Forgotten Origins Trilogy - Box Set: Infected, Heritage, Descent

by Tara Ellis

  “How should we do this?” I ask Chris, turning around in the seat.

  I can see the surprise register on his face when confronted with my shining eyes again, but he quickly recovers. “Um, I didn’t have a chance to tell you, Alex. The guys and I came out here two days after you were taken. We spent the first day looking for the thumb drive. Good job hiding it by the way. Hope you have it?” When I nod, he continues. “Well, we figured the professor was our only chance to try and get another copy. We knew that’s what you would want us to do.”

  “Of course I would,” I confirm.

  “Alex, they’re gone.” He tells me bluntly.

  “What do you mean, gone?” Dread claws at me. I know what he means.

  “The house was ransacked and they weren’t here. The lab is destroyed. You didn’t see him at the mill?”

  “No,” I answer, tears threatening. “I don’t think they would take him there. They kept talking about taking me to ‘command’, and that they were following orders and would be in trouble if I died. Oh! I was really sick for a while. I don’t even know how long it’s been?”

  “It’s been eight days, Alex,” Mom answers, taking my hand. I squeeze it, thankful to have my loved ones with me again.

  “I figured it was around a week. I was out of it for about four days, then. Anyway, I got the impression that there were definitely more important places and people than here. I think this is just a convenient location because of the pyramids, the professor, and for whatever reason, me. They acted like it was critical to change me. If they took the professor somewhere, it would be to this Command place.

  “They’re getting ready to test the airborne version of it,” I continue, turning back to Chris and Lisa. “Somewhere at a Bio-lab in Montana. This virus is worse. It’s called Nephi2 and it kills more people and makes them stronger and stuff. I’ll tell you more about it later, though. We have to get the gas cans filled.”

  “We already filled the cans,” Chris states. “We went ahead and did it when we were out here. Four of them. They’re hidden out in the woods near the trail.”

  Smiling, I turn back around in the seat and head down the driveway. “Great! We can hide this in their garage. I’m just afraid that our luck is going to run out soon. I can’t believe they aren’t here already. It must be because they’re running on a skeleton crew. They’ve moved most of their people over to that other lab. I don’t think they considered me or any of the other Shiners there a possible threat. I was supposed to be sent to Command tomorrow morning.”

  “Other Shiners?” Lisa asks, alarmed.

  “Oh. Yeah, there were probably close to fifty of them. All in one room. It was a bit freaky, but I walked right through them.”

  Silence. I’ve pulled up to the closed garage, and putting the truck in park, look at them all. I can see the horror on their faces and wish I could take that last comment back. “Don’t worry you guys. I’ve thought about this. They can’t risk sending the Shiners after us. In fact, I think they’re scared of them. They know that the control they hold over them is very thin. Plus, the reaction of the public and even the military if they saw a Shiner would be immediate and violent. Could you imagine? After what everyone just went through, even seeing one Shiner would send the whole Country into a panic. No. They’ll wait until they have tested and proven the airborne virus version and are ready to release it before letting any Shiners out.”

  “I hope you’re right, Alex,” Chris finally says. The dark woods around us seem to have taken on a new, threatening atmosphere. If I’m wrong, then we’re in big trouble.

  THIRTEEN

  The guys work on getting the truck put away while I dash inside the house. It’ll only take me a couple of minutes to see the destruction for myself. It’s something that I feel I have to do.

  Sprinting for the hallway, I see old, withered carrots scattered on the kitchen floor next to an overturned basket. Shattered tea cups litter the counter, and a burned up kettle is still on the stove. These simple items cause my step to falter and I almost fall. Catching myself against the wall, I turn the corner and see that the heavy wooden store is standing open at the end of the corridor.

  With my sensitive sense of smell, I noticed the charred, acrid odor as soon as I got out of the truck. Inside, it’s almost overwhelming. It isn’t the pleasant scent of burning oak, but plastics and electronics. I don’t bother to try the lights. I don’t need them anyway.

  At the bottom of the stairs, I discover that the lab has been completely destroyed. It looks like they set it on fire and then closed the airtight doors. Fortunately, while the surrounding support beams of the basement are flame-licked, the fire was mostly contained within the lab.

  The door in front of me is melted and twisted away from its frame, so I only have to push it aside to gain access. There is nothing left. For a moment, I wonder if the bodies of the professor and his wife could be in here, charred beyond recognition. But what is in his mind is way too valuable to the Mudameere to waste. Plus, the misshapen machinery is destroyed in place, so I think I would be able to tell the difference between that and their bodies.

  Not wasting any time, I head for my destination: his office. I find the other door still intact and it opens easily. Nothing was left untouched, and all of the files are overturned and dumped out. The couch is littered with items swept from his desks, making the disorganized state it was in a week ago look clean and neat.

  Not sure why I’m down here, I simply stare at the mess and hope that someone is taking care of Susan’s headaches. Turning to go, something about one of the open files catches the attention of my math-oriented vision. I’m getting better by the hour at ignoring it, but this is different. It isn’t a normal flow of numbers and angles. It’s wrong. Pausing, I crouch down and examine the wooden interior of the space more closely. It seems perfectly normal, except for a small, almost indistinguishable carving on the bottom. It’s somehow familiar to me.

  Gasping, I quickly pull off the dainty copper bracelet that I’m still wearing. Holding it against the design in the wood, I discover that it does, in fact, match. Not sure what to do, I follow my instinct and push it into the depression. I’m rewarded with a small click, imperceptible to anyone with normal hearing.

  The thin slab pops up slightly, just enough so I can hook my nail under the edge and pull the false bottom away. Underneath is a regular manila folder. I experience a brief flash of disappointment at the professor. How could he be so careless as to leave any valuable information where someone else might find it?

  My concerns are quickly extinguished though when I see the scrawled handwriting on the tab: Baxter. Of course. He would have never risked his viral formula. This is something personal, that won’t hold much interest for anyone else.

  “Alex!”

  I turn towards Chris’s voice and my curiosity melts back to apprehension. Leaping over the ruins with catlike agility, I’m at his side in seconds. He is staring at me open-mouthed, the flashlight in his hand forgotten.

  “Umm, yeah. We need to go. Everyone else is heading out already.” I can tell he is trying very hard not to make an issue over my changes. I need to try and remember how weird this is for all of them.

  Nodding, I hold up the file as we make our way back outside. “Found something. We’ll have to look at it later though.” Chris is about to ask what it is when we step out onto the porch. I place a hand on his chest to stop him. “Wait! Do you hear that?” He looks at me quizzically.

  “No. What is it?”

  Tilting my head to one side, I concentrate on the sound. Realizing that this is an identical gesture of the Shiners, I force it back into a natural position. Too late. I can see the unease on Chris’s face. Dang it! It doesn’t matter right now. I’ll work on trust later, because I realize what that odd whooping is.

  Grabbing his hand, I pull Chris after me. “It’s a helicopter! Come on!” I can see Baxter standing at the edge of the woods on the far side of the front yard, a couple
hundred feet away. He is whining anxiously and I can only assume that he also hears the approaching danger.

  We reach the cover of the trees just as the lights of the aircraft come into view. It’s swooping in fast and low. Everybody is huddled in the darkness, having gathered some additional bags and the gas cans they’d stored out here a few days before. I grab my own backpack, stuff the file inside and then take the gas that Mom is holding.

  “Run.” Is all that I need to say.

  We take off into the night, with me in the lead. They have flashlights, but obviously don’t want to turn them on unless absolutely necessary. We had mapped out a path on Google one day when the computers were working at the Library. The professor’s property butts up against a national park, so there are all sorts of maintained trails. My truck is parked at one of the many trailheads roughly five miles east of here. If we read the map right, we should meet up with the one that leads there after crossing over roughly three miles of open forest.

  We sat and studied that topographical map for hours. As far as we could tell, there isn’t any steep terrain or rivers in between us and our destination. Now that we’re here though, faced with blindly following nothing more than a compass, it’s a bit scary. The trail we are looking for runs north-south and in theory we will walk right into it unless we veer way off track.

  Lost in thought and concentrating on the compass that’s clipped to my bag, I don’t notice Baxter jogging at my side. I stop to get my bearing, and he sits at my feet, looking back at the others trying to catch up. Unable to stop myself but fearing rejection, I reach out and rest my hand on his shoulders. It’s a gesture I’ve done a thousand times but when he stiffens under my touch, my breath catches. Kneeling down next to him, I take his face in my hands and force him to look at me. I know that he sees a predator now, but I’ve got to convince him.

  Closing my eyes, blocking out the animal within me, I rest my forehead against his. “Baxter,” I whisper. “It’s me buddy. I’m here. They didn’t take me away. I know you’re special and that you can sense things. Listen to your instincts.” Whimpering, he starts to quiver but doesn’t pull away.

  Opening my eyes again, I touch my nose to his. It’s been a form of communication we’ve shared just between the two of us, but normally he is the one to do it. This seems to get through to him, and finally he relaxes, giving in to me. Audibly sighing, he licks my face as the rest of our group reaches us.

  Smiling, Jake hugs Baxter. “Hey! He likes you again.” I love my brother’s frankness.

  Well aware of the dangerous situation we’re in, I can’t fully appreciate the moment. I pat Baxter’s head as I stand and face my friends. It sounds like the helicopter is landing in the yard we just left. We haven’t even gone a quarter mile and it’s obvious I was going too fast for them to keep up.

  It won’t take more than a few minutes for them to clear the house. They may or may not figure out that the truck doesn’t belong there. If they do, then they’ll concentrate their search on the surrounding woods. We have to keep moving.

  “Jacob, grab onto the strap hanging off my backpack.” He complies without asking any questions. “Mom, you take his hand and Lisa you hold hers. Kyle, you take Lisa’s hand.”

  “Then I’ll grab Kyle’s strap and Chris can take mine,” Nate finishes, catching on. The three guys are carrying the other gas cans so only have one free hand.

  “Good idea, Alex,” Chris says as he takes up the rear in our small train. He and Nate are also armed with our two rifles, so I prefer to have them in the back.

  Sometimes jogging, but mostly walking, we make steady progress through the nearly flat landscape. The helicopter takes off in less than ten minutes and slowly moves in widening circles.

  After another twenty minutes, I estimate we’re over a mile away and the lights of our search party are moving in the opposite direction. Luckily for us, they must think we are still in town somewhere. We can’t take it for granted though. Eventually they’ll realize we had a way out and will widen their search.

  I know that everyone is getting tired, especially the guys carrying the other gas cans, but we can’t stop yet. Just because they aren’t looking for us by air, doesn’t mean there isn’t anyone on the ground.

  No one complains as I forge ahead, picking up the pace a little. The ground is starting to gently slope up, making it a bit more challenging. We continue on in silence, pushing forward through the night. Just as I begin to hear some grunting and know that we’ll have to stop soon, the forest floor levels back out. Twenty more feet and we stumble onto the wide, groomed surface that can only be the trail we’re so desperately seeking.

  From here, we just need to turn to the south and follow it the couple of miles to where my truck is waiting. Setting down the gas can, I watch Mom as she takes off her pack and hands water to Jacob and Lisa. Nate and Kyle are already sprawled in the dirt, guzzling from water bottles and high fiving each other.

  Smiling, I turn to find Chris watching me. He doesn’t flinch this time when my glowing eyes meet his. Closing the space between us, he takes my hand, and for the first time since this all began, I really think that we might make it.

  FOURTEEN

  Thank God my truck is still there. Not only that, but it seems undisturbed. Of course, it is outside the quarantine zone and I doubt that there have been many hikers out for nature walks lately. I’m sure that federal employees able to return to work have more pressing matters than checking parking lots for abandoned vehicles.

  During the last couple of miles, Chris filled me in a little on what happened while I was missing. After finding the professor gone, and unable to locate the thumb drive, they decided to wait a few more days. Mom was afraid to go to the military, especially when several more people disappeared each day after me. There was a rising panic among the townspeople and tempers were flaring. Control was being lost by the Army and word was that the soldiers on the street didn’t even know what was going on.

  I told Chris about the conversation I overheard between the nurses. It made more sense now why there wasn’t a larger search underway for us. The helicopter likely belongs to the Mudameere and is the only one they have here. The thin relationship they have with the Government is already strained, and it isn’t like they’re going to tell them that a Shiner escaped from their secret lab.

  While I’m feeling more confident about our situation, I’m also sure that it’s far from over. We might make it to Spokane, but I got the distinct impression that Nossor had some heavy personal investment in delivering me to his boss. He isn’t going to be happy that I fooled him, and while I don’t understand my role in it, it must be important. I just hope that the testing in Montana takes precedent.

  This brings up the next topic of discussion. I wait until our gear is stowed in the back and we are all inside the truck. I insist on the back slider being opened so that Baxter can stick his head through. I think he’ll want to hear it too.

  I continue to be the driver since I can do it without the headlights on. This gives us a huge advantage. Mom and Lisa share the front bench seat with me and the four guys cram into the back. At least it’s a full-sized cab. It won’t be for too long, and I want them all to be a part of the conversation. I honestly don’t want to have to tell my story twice.

  Our first stop is just twenty minutes away at Nate’s dad’s house. His parents are divorced, and he spent most of his time at his mom’s in Omak. Before The Shining, he would drive out to his dad’s place in the country on the weekends. Unfortunately, his Father had suffered from diabetes since he was a child and was insulin dependent. Nate isn’t sure if it was the virus that killed him, or that he ran out of insulin while he was sick and no one was there to help him. Either way, he didn’t survive.

  Nate hasn’t been there since the quarantine was implemented, but assuming it wasn’t stolen, there should be a nice big Tahoe in the garage. We thought that it would make traveling much easier in the larger vehicle. Plus, assuming the Mu
dameere has access to the DMV database, they might be looking for my truck. It could buy us more time switching them out.

  As they settle in and I pull off the dirt road and onto the freeway, I finally get to tell them what happened to me. I’m surprised how fast it goes and that no one interrupts me even once with questions. Although, I did get some chuckles when describing the exchange between me and Nossor, when I suggested he infect himself.

  I decide not to discuss the odd comments that I overheard while I was there. I don’t want to cause even more confusion or doubt about me and my allegiance. I plan on sharing it with Chris later when we can talk privately. I’m sure he’ll help me figure it out.

  The moon has fallen below the horizon, leaving the thick woods in total darkness. It wraps around us and gives a sense of isolation that is misleading. My family and friends sit in stunned silence when I finish describing my fight with Seth. I can feel the anger practically flowing out of Chris, and I’m pretty sure that’s his teeth I hear grinding. I hope that the two of them never meet.

  “Oh, Alex,” Mom sighs. “You’ve never been sick like that before. I can’t stand to think about you being close to death, all alone. I’m so sorry.” Switching roles, I take her hand reassuringly this time.

  “It’s okay, Mom. I’m okay. I really don’t even remember much of anything when I was sick. I feel great now.” I try and smile at her, but I don’t think she can see me. It’s odd when I examine their faces in the dark. It’s almost like I’m a peeping tom, observing their private expressions. It’s very telling. The torment on my mom’s face is painful. Lisa’s composure is a stark comparison, and it’s apparent to me that she is trying to display emotions she doesn’t feel, when she believes people are looking.

  I feel a pang of sorrow for Chris, and squeeze Mom’s hand a little tighter before putting my own back on the wheel. I think we’re almost to Nate’s dad’s.