by Tara Ellis
“Correct,” Jim answers curtly. “But that was at a steady walk, meant for traveling long distances. These horses are top notch. They can gallop at over thirty miles per hour. Granted, we’ve already been pushing them hard for half the day, but they can do it if we make some changes.”
“What kind of changes?” Benuk’s deep voice coming from the inky blackness behind us makes me jump. Turning, I can see he’s gotten off his horse and walked a few feet in our direction.
“Well, for starters, we can’t all make it,” he explains, squinting in Benuk’s direction. “Chris is already on the best mount. The senator’s own horse. I suggest that Alex and Seth push ahead with him as fast as the horses can go. We can remove most of their gear and add to our own to help lighten the loads. You’re just too dang big, Benuk,” he continues, “to drive your horse any harder. And the rest of us don’t have to get there that fast, so it makes more sense for us to go slower with the pack horse and all the supplies.”
“And Baxter,” I add. I look down at my friend when he whimpers in response. “You know you’ve been struggling all day to keep up with us,” I whisper to him. “I’d feel much better if I knew you were safe, with them.” Hanging his head in resignation, he walks over next to Missy’s horse.
“Sometimes I’d swear that dog knows exactly what you’re saying to him,” Kyle observes. I let it go. That’s a conversation for another time.
“Here, take the map,” Jim says, holding it out. “You’ll need it more than I will. I have another one anyways. It’s topographical, but I can still figure it out.”
“Thank you. Really, Jim. I don’t think we would have found our way without your knowledge and help.”
“Just get there in time,” he replies and I understand how much he’s come to care for us.
“Let’s get going then!” Seth calls out to us, and I see that Benuk has gone back and already removed the bedrolls and extra packs from his and Chris’s horses. Even though the first time Seth had been on a horse was five days ago, he quickly learned. Now he rides just as good as I can. I see the sense in having him ride with Chris and I, since he’s immune, but I wish that it could be Kyle or Nate instead. Chris needs his friends with him right now.
Calling out our goodbyes to each other, our two new groups break apart just as the moon finally decides to make an appearance.
“Thank God,” Chris says, watching as the much-appreciated light creeps across the road. Wiping at his nose, he turns to me and I try my best not to react to his appearance. His eyes are red-rimmed, with bags beginning to form, and his nose is raw. I can already see the enlarging glands in his neck and it reminds me so much of when my mom was sick, that it’s all I can do not to panic. We have to get to the base before time runs out.
“Ready for this?” he asks me, trying to smile.
Reaching out, I gently touch the sharp lines of his jaw, tracing it down to the swollen edges of his neck. Turning into my caress, he kisses my palm before removing it. “I’ll be okay,” he says firmly.
“I know. We’ll get there in time, Chris. They’ll have the antivirus.”
“This is sweet and all,” Seth interrupts. “But if you really want to save your boyfriends life, we should probably actually start moving now.”
Hoping that my glowing eyes freak him out just a little, I direct my cat-like gaze at Seth, full of contempt, before spurring my horse into a gallop. With the wind hitting my face, and the feel of the muscled creature moving under me as we race into the dark, I feel like an animal of the night. A dangerous one, if pushed too hard.
I make a promise to myself, to seek revenge for all of the loss and the death, including the ones this afternoon. I’ll find RA, and then I’ll make him pay.
SEVEN
It’s been nearly six hours and the sun finally came up about an hour ago. We’re getting so close now, but it might not matter. It’s been around eighteen hours since Chris was infected and he’s been steadily getting worse. Our horses are spent, and they can’t go much further before they’ll collapse.
We’re currently running through a field south of the freeway, staying parallel to it. We’ve seen several people out and about once we started getting near Great Falls, but we never slowed down enough to find out if they were Shiners or not. I saw a sign awhile back for the base that said ten miles, but I’ve lost all perception of time and distance at this point. None of us has slept for over twenty-four hours and we’re on autopilot.
Because of this, I’m startled when a tall cyclone fence topped with barbed wire suddenly looms up in front of us. My horse sees it before I do and comes up short, nearly throwing me off. I recover quickly though and follow the fence to the left where in the distance I can see a red-and-white sign attached to the wires.
“Restricted access, US Military property,” I read aloud once I reach it, as Seth and Chris come up behind me. “We made it!”
“Maybe,” Seth replies, always the pessimist. “We still have to get inside.”
Several gunshots ring out near my head, and instinct takes over as I throw myself to the ground. Looking up, I start giggling a bit crazily when I see that it was just Chris firing into the air.
“What the hell!” Seth shouts at him. He didn’t have quite as an extreme reaction as I did, but it’s obvious that he was startled.
“We want to get the attention of the authorities at the base as fast as possible,” Chris says with some difficulty, a wet cough interrupting his explanation. “I figure this ought to do it.”
The laughter dies on my lips as another coughing fit grips him, and I push myself up from the ground. I grab Chris’s arms to steady him when he slides off his horse and struggles to breathe. I can’t believe how bad it’s gotten already. His skin feels like it’s on fire under my hands and I know that we’re rapidly running out of time.
The sound of approaching hoof beats draws our attention, and all of us watch with anticipation as a group of soldiers comes into view. “It worked,” I whisper.
Chris steps away from me, his breathing now under control. “Warn them,” he says hoarsely and walks further away from the fence.
The first of the men reach us and I see that Chris’s concern over exposing them was unnecessary. They’re wearing real respirators with filters, clearly prepared to deal with the new Shiners. “Lower your weapons immediately and identify yourselves!” He orders.
Chris and Seth are smart enough to drop their rifles before ordered to, but I haven’t even thought about the gun slung across my back. Slowly and cautiously, I slip the strap off my shoulder and follow their commands, keeping my hands in view.
“My name is Alex Mubarak,” I state loudly and confidently. “Senator Zane is expecting us. Please radio him and tell him we’re here. My friend needs medical care right away.”
The six men have all dismounted their horses and they take several steps back as they realize that Chris is sick. But my name seems to have an effect. The guy in charge raises a hand, directing the others to stand at ease. One of them steps forward and removes a square backpack that I recognize as an old-school radio.
Thank you God.
It takes several minutes of garbled transmissions, but we finally get permission to enter the base. About a hundred meters away is a small, gated entrance and they lead us through it.
“You will stay close to us, speak to no one else, and put these on,” the leader barks as he tosses respirators and gloves at us, his voice muffled through his own mask. We follow his instructions without question, and then push our tired horses to keep up with the men as they take off at a full gallop across the vast space between the outer and inner fences.
My vision becomes distorted when the mask gets all steamed up, but I can still see well enough to be impressed. There are watchtowers spaced about every one-hundred feet throughout the ‘dead zone’, with one or two soldiers in the lookouts. In addition, there are mounted guards near the interior fence as well as armed foot soldiers stationed at every entrance
. No one’s going to get through here without being seen. That’s good.
It’s nearly twenty minutes before we get close to any buildings. Jim was right. The base is huge. It’s basically a small town, with everything you’d expect one to have. Where we entered was a remote location, but there are neighborhoods in the distance and what looks like a vacant shopping mall and several streets of other various shops. Nearest to us is a more standard military complex, with plenty of cement and dull colors.
While the base appears to be capable of housing thousands, we’ve only seen a few dozen civilians, kept at a distance. The numerous military personal we’ve encountered are all intent on some task and although this is an Air Force organization, there’s a mix of branches here, including Army and National Guard. There’s an air of extreme order and precision in what’s happening, and I find this even more reassuring than the security efforts.
As we get closer to a three-story, massive structure, a set of double doors near us burst open and several men and women in different attire rush out. “Dismount!” Our escort shouts and we again do as he says.
Before we even have a chance to get any of our gear, the new entourage takes the reins from us, and starts to lead the horses away. I see now that their clothing, while not fatigues, is still military ordinance, but a bit more practical. They must be in charge of the animals.
“That’s the senator’s personal horse!” I call to their backs. “Be sure that he knows it’s here.”
I’m not sure if they heard me, because no one answers, and Chris takes my hand to pull me forward before I can say anything else. His skin feels hot, even through the latex gloves. Looking at him more closely, I quickly forget about the horses. I let go of his hand and wrap my arm around his waist to help him walk. The weight against my arm suddenly lightens and I’m surprised to discover that Seth has come along his other side to help. I’m sure Chris would resist if he weren’t too weak.
“Through here!”
I’m getting used to following orders already, and so I obediently help steer Chris through the open doors. It’s the same entrance the horse people came out of, and our tour guide is the only one that got off his horse to hold them open for us. The rest of his group stays behind as he takes us the remainder of the way solo.
The corridor is pitch black and the mask over my face makes it difficult for even me to see, despite my night vision. When a flashlight comes on, I can only imagine the relief Chris and Seth must feel.
“Power has been out since the EMP six days ago,” the solider explains. “While the lower levels are being powered by our shielded generators, all other unnecessary units are not.”
“Generators?” Seth asks, echoing my own thoughts. “So you do have power?”
“Yes. This base is designed to withstand a powerful pulse, and maintains both gas and solar powered generators, water pumps, air purifiers and an independent computer network. Of course, that doesn’t change the fact that there are no satellites, no internet, or any other form of outside communication. We’re totally self-contained.”
“Where are we going?” I press, both relieved to hear there’s power here but also depressed to have it confirmed that the rest of the world is in the dark.
“Infirmary. The senator will meet you there.”
After two dark stairwells that lead down, and what seems like an endless maze of halls, we finally emerge onto a third sub-level that’s illuminated. Squinting against the glare, I can immediately tell that we’ve entered a medical facility. The hall is full of health equipment and the people working here are dressed in the stereotypical white garb. Instead of respirators, they’re wearing the same type of flu masks Jim gave us.
A plump, balding man comes bustling towards us with a clipboard. “Are these the exposed incoming?” he squeaks, clearly excited. “Bring them this way … quickly,” he continues before anyone can even answer him. Spinning around, he scurries back the way he came and we hurry to keep up. He can move surprisingly fast.
Two others join us when we pass what looks like a nurse’s station, and our growing group heads for the end of the hall. An imposing sign over the only door reads ‘quarantine’ and there’s a list of precautions under it. Turning back to us, our new leader pulls nervously at his mask and appears to look at us for the first time.
“I’m Doctor Paul. I’ll be in charge of your care. Have all of you been exposed to the Nephi II virus? How long has it been and what are your symptoms?”
“I’m the only one exposed,” Chris gasps, holding his hand up weakly. “They’re immune.”
“Immune? Impossible! You will all remain in quarantine until symptom free for forty-eight hours.” Opening the door behind him, he turns to step through it but I grab his arm to stop him. Reeling from me as if I bit him, he stumbles backwards over the doorframe and nearly falls.
“Whoa!” I say, holding my hands up in a show of peace. “I’m not going to hurt you, Doc. I just need to know when we’re going to see Senator Zane Adel and our families. We’ve got several more friends still out there!”
Embarrassed now, the doctor straightens his jacket and picks up his dropped clipboard. “I’m sure the senator will be here as soon as he’s able. There’s a lot going on. I don’t know anything about your parents or friends. Not my department.” He tries again to direct us into the quarantine room.
“No, you don’t understand!” I press. “My friend here was infected over eighteen hours ago. He’s got to get a dose of the antiviral meds immediately!”
Shaking his head, more apologetic now than confrontational, the doctor looks from me to Chris. “I’m sorry child, but there isn’t anything the senator can do to help your friend. We haven’t heard from the lab since the EMP. We don’t have the antiviral meds.”
EIGHT
I’m relieved to have the respirator off, but it’s still hard to breathe. Not because of something covering my face, but from the anxiety that’s squeezing at me, and threatening to drive me crazy. The four walls of this white, sterile room are pushing in and the fact that there’s no clock, makes it seem like the minutes are rapidly slipping away.
In reality, I know that it’s probably been less than half-an-hour, but Chris doesn’t have much time left. He’s lying on one of the two cots set up in the small room and Seth is reclining on the other one. How he can act so relaxed is beyond me and it’s really starting to tick me off.
“Stop pacing,” he has the nerve to say to me.
Turning on him, my eyes must reflect my fury because he actually flinches. “What is it that you would like me to do then, Seth?” I sneer. “Because it’s pretty much the only thing keeping me from tearing things apart in here!” Getting off the bed, he walks to the far end of the room and turns to stare out the large window facing the observation area. There are several workers at desks in there, all of them looking up every few minutes to study us: charting, recording and whispering.
“Zane will show up soon and we’ll get some answers,” he says with a confidence not appropriate for the situation.
Gnashing my teeth together, I drop to my knees next to Chris. He’s in and out of consciousness now, his fever raging. One of the nurses came in a few minutes ago and gave him some medicine for it, but so far, there isn’t any change. She kept a wide berth from Seth and me and insisted she didn’t know anything when we bombarded her with questions.
I’ve already decided that the next time someone comes in I’m going to overpower them and get out of here. I can easily escape. There’s no way in hell I’m going to just sit by and watch Chris turn into a Shiner. Where’s my Mom? Where’s Lisa, Chris’s Mom? Wouldn’t they come here immediately upon our arrival?
I’ve barely finished this thought when a crackling sound from overhead alerts us to the intercom being activated. “You have visitors. Please come over to the window. You will be able to see and speak with them there, but are not allowed any contact.”
My hopes surging, I hurry to where Seth is standing a
nd eagerly search the large room beyond. Where are they? My fingers pressed to the glass, I feel like a gerbil but don’t care. Let them all stare at me. Then a door opens near the nurse’s station opposite us, and a sight I have dreamed of seeing for the past six days is fulfilled. Mom, Jake, Lisa, Missy’s Mom Cindy, and little sister Natalie. All of them are here. Closing the door behind them is the imposing figure of Senator Zane, his tall and astute form noticeably changing the demeanor of those in the room. The boss is here.
Mom rushes forward, crying, and places her hands on the other side of the glass, matching them up with my own. “Oh, Alex!” she sobs, sliding down to the floor. Zane is immediately at her elbow, supporting her. Concerned, I squat down to stay at eye-level with her and look at the senator questioningly.
“She hasn’t hardly eaten or slept since we lost contact with you,” he explains, gently pulling her blonde hair away from her face. “She’s just exhausted, but she’ll be okay now.”
“Where’s Baxter?” Jacob demands, tears threatening to spill over. “And what’s happened to your eyes now? They changed again!”
“Where’s Missy?” Cindy yells at the same time, alarmed.
“Chris!” Lisa calls, straining to see him in the bed. “What’s wrong with him, Alex? Why isn’t he answering?”
It’s too much. Falling back from the glass, I land on my rear and cover my face with my hands. The incredible stress from the past six days threatens to overwhelm me. I don’t know if I can face all the questions, demands, and suspicion. Not now, not on my own.
“Whoa! Give the girl a break here, Okay? One thing at a time.” The voice of reason surprises me, and I’m further confused when Seth places a hand on my shoulder for emphasis. The contact is not normal. I associate it with struggle and fear, not caring or friendship. I start to instinctively pull away, but his hand clamps down, not letting me go without a fight. I don’t have it in me. Giving in, my shoulders slump and he moves behind me. Catching me under the arms, he easily lifts me up off the floor and then keeps an arm around my waist, literally taking the weight from me.