by Nick Thacker
“Who are you?” Adam shouted.
“Just leave!” the man said, raising the axe as if he was about to strike.
Carl was between Adam and this man, and there was every possibility that the axe blade might come down on Carl’s head. Adam had to stop that.
The .45 was too far away to reach in time, and Adam had no other weapons. His only choice was to rush the guy—and without another thought he did just that.
The man might have cried out, but Adam could only hear the drone of the generator. He slammed into the man’s chest at full speed, and the two of them toppled to the gravel of the courtyard. Adam reached for the axe, which the man still clung to in a desperate grip. They fought then, Adam trying to wrench the axe away, and the man struggling to hold on to it, never once trying to strike Adam or harm him. It was as if the man just wanted to get away.
Adam gripped the axe hard with his left hand. His right hand still throbbed, but the feeling was coming back in earnest. It ached, but he could move the fingers. He made a fist, took a deep breath, and punched the man hard in the solar plexus.
The man gasped, loud enough that Adam could hear it even over the generator, and his grip on the axe released.
Adam got to his feet, the axe dangling at his left side, and huffed. He took several deep, ragged breaths before the adrenaline started to wear off and his heart rate started to slow. Unfortunately, his hand also started to throb and ache again.
“Who are you?” Adam shouted.
The man was rubbing his solar plexus with both hands, and said nothing.
Adam looked around, spotted the .45, and picked it up. He aimed it at the man. ”Who are you?” he asked again, with greater intensity. The gun punctuated his question, and the man seemed to actually slump inward, right there on the ground.
“Go ahead,” he said. “Do it. I’ve survived longer than I thought I would anyway. The world is doomed. I might as well go now.”
Adam shook his head. He lowered the .45, then raised it again as he used the back of his throbbing hand to wipe at his forehead. “Look, I don’t want to shoot you. We were just checking the generator. You attacked us. Now who are you?”
The man shook his head, then said, “I’m Professor Jessup Milton,” he said. “I used to work here.”
Chapter Eight
Professor Milton slumped into a cafeteria chair. The cafeteria itself had been well raided, but there was still a Keurig and a couple of stray cups. Adam hadn’t had coffee for a while now, so he made a cup for both the Professor and himself, and settled in.
Carl was nursing a lump on the back of his skull, and turned down the offer of coffee.
“We actually came here looking for you,” Adam said. “I thought you’d be long gone by now, though.”
Milton sipped his coffee and nodded. “How do you know me?” he asked.
Adam shook his head. “I don’t. Ethan Greer was trying to connect us.”
“Ethan Greer?” Milton asked. Then his eyes widened. “You’re Adam Bolland?”
Adam nodded.
“Is Ethan Greer with you?”
Adam lowered his head. He hadn’t thought of Ethan much since leaving the mountain. There had been too many threats, too many events since then. Now he thought of his friend’s body, splayed on the mountainside. He looked up and met Milton’s eyes, and his expression said everything.
Milton got the message. “Were you able to bring the vials?” he asked, quietly.
Adam shook his head. “They were worthless anyway, Professor. None of this is what I thought it was.”
Now it was Milton’s turn to shake his head. “No, I suppose it isn’t. I was certain that if I could get my hands on that chemical I might be able to synthesize some sort of antidote for this.” He waved his hand vaguely toward some unseen distance. “But it isn’t chemically induced. Not the way we assumed. It’s something else.”
“Heavy metal poisoning,” Adam said.
Milton looked at him. “How do you know?” he asked.
“We have a researcher with us. She figured it out. She’s testing …” Adam hesitated, unprepared for the strong emotions that overtook him. “She’s testing my daughter’s blood right now, in your lab.”
Milton struggled to rise, and the armed guard at the door raised his weapon. Adam waved a hand, telling him it was ok, and then stood and helped Professor Milton to his feet. “I need to see her,” Milton said.
Adam nodded, and looked at Carl. “You ok?”
Carl glared at Milton, then at Adam. “No,” he said.
“Will you live?” Adam asked.
Carl scoffed and sneered, but said, “Yes.”
Adam led Milton out of the cafeteria, stopping briefly to pocket a couple of candy bars he’d found while scavenging the room. It was just about the only food left here, and Milton had explained that it was he who had raided the place.
They stepped out into the corridor with the guard tagging along behind them. “You’ve been living here?” Adam asked as they walked.
“For the past couple of weeks,” Milton said, nodding. “It was easier to sleep in my office than to trek home each day. I live on the outskirts of Denver. The UVFs hassle em each time they find me on the road, so I packed a bag and bunked here.”
“And you’re still researching this? How? Have you found anything?”
“Hints. I had no idea it was heavy metal poisoning, so clearly my research has been moving in the wrong direction. I thought it was viral at first, but quickly eliminated that. I was investigating the idea that it was a contaminate in the water supply, but hadn’t quite made it to the heavy metal range.”
They came to the Phlebotomy lab and Adam nodded to Lisa Danvers as he led Milton through the door. The other guard, whom Adam hadn’t yet managed to meet officially, followed them inside.
“It’s ok,” Adam said to the guard. “He’s fine.”
“Carl said to watch him,” the guard said.
Adam considered this. “What’s your name? We haven’t really met yet.”
“Taylor,” the man said.
“Taylor,” Adam repeated. “Ok, just hang out. I get it. But I think Professor Milton was just being cautious. He didn’t kill anyone.”
Taylor nodded over this, and then stepped back, leaning against the wall close to the door. He kept his rifle ready, though thankfully he was no longer pointing it at anyone.
Adam and Milton moved away, and Milton leaned in a bit to whisper, “Thank you. I’ve never been comfortable around guns.”
“You might have to get comfortable,” Adam said. “Things are … well, they’re different now.”
Milton said nothing to that.
Jocelyn Wu looked up from her work as Adam and Milton approached. “Who is this?” she asked, almost as if Adam had brought a day visitor to her place of work. She even smiled a little.
It had an effect that Adam had not expected. It made things seem lighter somehow, as if everything would eventually turn out alright. Adam wasn’t sure that was ever going to be the case, but something inside of him yearned to see a smile again, it seemed. Something within him felt comforted by the open friendliness of Jocelyn Wu.
“Dr. Jocelyn Wu, meet Professor Jessup Milton.”
Jocelyn blinked. “The Professor Milton? You’re … forgive me, but you’re alive? And Lucid?”
“Last I checked on both counts,” Milton smiled, extending a hand. “Though that second one could be debatable.”
“Lucid is what we’re calling people who are immune to the heavy metal poisoning,” Adam said. “The affected we’re calling ‘Suppressed.’”
“Dear Lord,” Milton said, looking appalled. “Who came up with those?”
“The WHO, actually,” Jocelyn said.
Milton considered. “Apt enough,” he shrugged. “So what have you discovered? And how can I help?”
Again Jocelyn smiled. “It would help tremendously to have a second set of eyes on these tests and results, Professor. Since t
his is your lab, I assume you’re familiar with everything?”
Milton rolled his eyes. “Of course. Who do you think put this this lab together? My name is practically engraved on every brick of this facility.”
They continued talking, discussing results and theories. Jocelyn filled him in on everything she knew, and he did likewise. Together they were able to eliminate a few dead ends, and start collecting a few possibilities that neither had considered before.
Adam listen for a bit, then quietly slipped away.
He came to Taylor, who was leaning against the wall but watching Milton intently.
“I don’t think he’s any danger,” Adam said. “Maybe just overzealous in a tense situation.”
Taylor looked at Adam, and his expression was hard and even a bit angry. “I have my orders,” he said.
Adam watched the younger man’s face for a moment, then nodded. He walked out through the door and left the situation as it was. He hoped that Milton didn’t do anything to get himself shot—it seemed that there were trust issues to overcome.
Something else became apparent as well. Despite Anna Tyler’s invitation to help Adam reach Denver, and despite the fact that they were here as a team of sorts, Adam was still an outsider to this group. So was Jocelyn. And so, definitely, was Professor Milton.
There was a line between them and the people from Garden of the Gods, despite sharing the same mission.
That was dangerous. And it could lead to trouble. Adam would have to find a way to smooth things out, to build trust, and to bring them all together.
He started toward the cafeteria. If he could find Carl, maybe he could get the man to let go of whatever grudge he might hold against Milton. That would go a long way toward smoothing things within the group.
Assuming Taylor didn’t shoot Milton first.
Chapter Nine
Adam joined the patrols after awhile, spotting Taylor and Lisa at first, and then joining up with the other guard—Tony—and watching the approaches to the building from the second floor. The rear of the building was fairly well blocked off, thanks to a combination of campus design, security fences, and an overturned semi near the gate. The front of the building faced large, mostly empty parking lots, and it was these that Adam and Tony watched.
Tony was armed with a semi-automatic rifle—the type that caused a lot of controversy among gun control proponents, prior to the apocalypse. Adam guessed they might not be as keen to ban them these days, faced with government-driven oppression of this magnitude.
Adam, on the other hand, had only the .45 he’d carried in with him. There were no spare rifles. But he got the impression that he wouldn’t be given one anyway. There was something a little off about the dynamic at play here.
He had started noticing it with Taylor. The young ex-soldier was a bit too hot under the collar, and a bit too willing to take aim. Adam had managed to talk him down a bit, but the resentment was plain on Taylor’s face. He was more or less following whatever directives Adam gave, but his body language and attitude spoke loudly that Adam was not in charge.
Which was fine. Adam didn’t need to be the leader here. He just wanted what he thought everyone wanted—answers. And survival.
But what if that wasn’t quite everything that the others wanted?
Carl seemed like an amicable enough guy, but he had lost a lot of his charm when he was clocked by Milton. He was nursing a pretty big welt on the back of his head, and he tensed whenever Milton was nearby.
Adam had tried to smooth things over a bit, to explain that Milton was just doing what they were doing—getting by the best he could, protecting himself from threats. But Carl wouldn’t hear any of it. He was snappish and surly, and tended to overreact to petty annoyances.
That was what prompted Adam to start testing the waters a bit more.
Taylor was a hothead, and that much was obvious. Adam had him figured pretty quickly.
Lisa was a little more even tempered, but she was also playing dutiful solider right to the edge. She did anything Carl told her to do. and even though she was friendly, it was clear she had an alignment with Carl and the others that she didn’t share with Adam, or Jocelyn, or especially Professor Milton.
And now there was Tony.
He was a little worrisome to Adam. Tony was older, for starters, and clearly a war veteran. Maybe Afghanistan, or one of the Gulf Wars, at least. And he was very attached to his rifle. It was clearly a personal possession, not just something he’d been issued by the people back at Anna’s camp.
Adam considered the attitudes of all of these would-be soldiers, and then thought about the encounter he and Ethan Greer had with the Lucid, back on the mountainside in Colorado Springs.
That encounter had put Adam in the hands of David Priseman, and had gotten Ethan killed. Details that may have been glossed over a bit in all the chaos, but were not forgotten.
It occurred to Adam, for the first time, that the group responsible for Ethan’s death may have been part of Anna Tyler’s group in Garden of the Gods.
Adam glanced at Tony, who was holding his rifle erect and peering out of the window as if daring anyone to approach. He was capable—Adam had seen him in action on the way in. He was dangerous.
So was Taylor.
So was Carl.
What about Lisa Danvers?
She was dangerous, too, but she might be persuaded to help if things went sideways.
And that was the question Adam had to settle. If things did go sideways, what would he do?
For now, he patrolled, and watched the approach to the building while also watching Tony. He made mental notes. He took notice of exits and supplies and vehicles that might run.
He planned.
Depending on what Jocelyn Wu and Jessup Milton found in his daughter’s blood, and what it meant to everyone, he might have to make an escape, and quickly. The only question was, who would go with him?
Chapter Ten
David had taken the leap sixteen times now, with sixteen different subjects. Every one had been the same. He could initiate transfers right from the MCU, and be wholly in the body of a Suppressed, in complete control of their actions, thinking and seeing from within their heads.
A week ago he’d had only one useless and broken body, and now he had sixteen perfectly fit bodies at his beck and call.
He ranged out.
The heavy metal in everyone’s bloodstream could do more than just produce the Suppression effect. It acted as a receiver for the signal that was continuously broadcast by millions of repeaters. Every UVF, every security camera, every transmitter tower—David’s reach was total. If he had remote access to a Suppressed, he could inhabit them, without ever moving from his current position.
The MCU served as his life support and protection. It filtered water and provided sustenance. It kept him safe and alive while he did his work. The combat sphere might have given him some mobility, but it was clunky and awkward. This, though … this was elegant.
He could be whole again.
No—he could be better.
He’d made the leap sixteen times so far, and each had been a different set of test conditions. He’d tested various ages, both male and female, various races, and even a bit of distance. The range didn’t seem to matter—at least not within the confines of the facility. His latest test subject was almost a quarter mile away, and sensors in that part of the facility were limited primarily to monitoring. Despite this, however, David had been able to take control of the subject’s body with no perceivable delay or lag. He could feel what the body felt, taste what it tasted, and move with its legs. He was alive and in control!
How far could he range out?
Theoretically, there was no limit. The system he’d devised was ubiquitous—there were transmitters and receivers all over the planet. Even limitations of poverty had been no barrier—governments of third-world countries had gotten an assist from the first world nations, and they’d been all too eager to install a rovi
ng, automated police force to help keep the peace in their tiny nations. It cut the costs of manpower, and provided a sense of security to the citizenry. It also provided a sense of totalitarian strength to some of the less altruistic government officials.
But for David, it could provide the means to be anywhere on the planet, instantly, in command of a body that was fit and healthy and unfettered by spinal injuries.
Assuming, of course, that the Suppressed were protected and cared for.
That thought hadn’t occurred to David until just now, and it was alarming. This process—his new ability to inhabit the Suppressed—was only useful to him if the Suppressed remained uninjured. It would do him little good to transfer into a body that was incapacitated or in great pain—he’d only suffer himself.
Unfortunately, the Suppressed had a tendency to wander into imminent danger on a regular basis, with no idea they could die or be horribly injured.
That presented a problem.
For the moment, David had the run of an entire network of healthy bodies with checked-out minds. But over time, those would deteriorate. Attrition would start to take hold. The Suppressed were their own biggest danger, and that meant a dramatic reduction in the pool of resources David could access.
Something would have to be done.
But first, he had to see if he was right.
He used the MCU’s interface to connect to the satellite network, and then to a UVF network in China. He’d been monitoring news stories from there all this time, until the infrastructure collapsed to the point that news broadcasts were becoming rare. Still, he could see reports—including video—from the UVFs there. The Suppressed were moving in much greater masses in the over-crowded environment.
David selected someone who was isolated and in good shape. A man dressed in a business suit, and wandering the halls of a large office building. David used local transmitters and receivers, creating an ad hoc network of UVFs that were in sync with the building’s own cameras and systems. And then, as he had done sixteen times already, he took over.