The Death: The Complete Trilogy

by John W. Vance

  “Bill, Tom, thoughts? You were there,” Travis asked.

  Bill spoke up first. “Well, he’s right they do have a functioning system, but it’s a bit more rugged than what we had in Pine Bluffs.”

  “Rugged is the nice way to put it, kind of reminded me of Mad Max.”

  “That settles it. We’re not going in,” Travis said, putting his foot down.

  “No, c’mon,” Josh protested.

  “Too risky.”

  “Cass, what do you think?” Josh asked.

  “I’m with Travis on this one.”

  “Listen, if we don’t stay, can we at least take my cousin with us. He wants to travel, he’s strong, smart, and he’ll be an asset.”

  All of this went against Travis’ instincts, but how could he say no. He looked at Cassidy and raised his eyebrows.

  “Fine, but go get him now. He needs to leave ASAP, no long goodbyes. Grab him and go. I want out of the city in an hour. We can’t risk being in here at dark,” Travis warned Josh.

  “Oh, thank you so much. You’ll love him, I swear,” Josh exclaimed with excitement. He ran for his SUV and jumped in.

  “Take Bill with you,” Travis ordered.

  Begrudgingly, Bill sauntered off and got in with Josh.

  Josh hooted and hollered as he sped off back into the bowels of City Heights.

  “Rover One, this is Rover Two. Come in. Over,” Josh radioed.

  “I knew it. He’s already running late and now he’s asking for more time,” Travis complained.

  “Go ahead, Josh,” Cassidy replied.

  “I have a flat tire and the spare is missing in the rig. Over.”

  “Damn it!” Travis yelled and slammed his closed hand into the steering wheel.

  “Stop complaining. It is what it is. Let’s go help him,” Cassidy said.

  Travis grunted, put their SUV into gear and punched the accelerator. He swerved and veered around the debris and abandoned cars. As they went deeper into the area, a chill ran up his spine. He had a bad feeling about this.

  “Tom, keep your eyes peeled. Lower the window and stick your rifle out,” Travis ordered.

  Travis followed the directions and, after making the last turn, saw Josh, Bill and the SUV. Around them were a dozen young men, some with weapons.

  “What does that scene look like to you?” Travis asked.

  Cassidy leaned forward and said, “Josh is still smiling, must be fine.”

  Travis pulled up close, spun the SUV with the trailer around and backed up towards Josh’s.

  “Whoa, look, homey has a trailer and shit,” a young Hispanic man said. He walked up to the side of Travis’ SUV and nodded. His shirtless chest was adorned with tattoos, many Travis recognized as gang related.

  “Guys, this is not a fucking good scene. Tom, I need you to go get the spare. Cassidy, get behind the wheel and keep the engine running."

  She did as he asked and climbed over. Her fear rendered her speechless. She didn’t need Travis to tell her this was bad; she felt it now.

  Travis got out and hollered to Josh, “How did that happen?”

  “Not sure, Bill and I came out with my cousin and bam, it was flat.”

  “What a coincidence.”

  “That’s a nice rig and a nice piece of ass in there,” the Hispanic man said to Travis.

  “Hey, Josh, why don’t you hurry up and why haven’t you pulled the other fucking tire off yet?”

  “Chill, man,” Josh replied.

  “Yeah, chill, man,” the Hispanic man snarled. “In fact, why don’t you chill and give me the fucking keys to your car, man!” he barked as he pulled a pistol from his waistband and pointed it at Travis.

  “Easy, now!” Travis said.

  “What are you doing, Jose?” Josh asked, confused.

  “Listen, white boy, you ain’t my homey. You think you can come into my area acting all official and tough? Huh?” Jose asked Josh.

  “Pete, what the fuck is going on?” Josh asked his cousin.

  “His motherfucking name is Pedro.”

  “Pete, what the hell, man?” Josh yelled.

  While Jose held a gun to Travis, the other young men in Jose’s gang pulled guns on Bill, Tom and Josh.

  “This is bullshit, Jose!” Josh yelled.

  “Shut up, Josh,” Travis yelled.

  “Yeah, shut the fuck up, Josh!” Jose laughed.

  “Just take the vehicles and let us go,” Travis calmly said.

  Cassidy was frozen; her hands gripped the steering wheel in white-knuckle fear.

  “Where’s my aunt and uncle? They’ll stop this bullshit. Pete, what the hell, man? You said we were cool.”

  Pete didn’t look at Josh, but kept his eyes on Bill.

  “Look at me!” Josh demanded.

  “Shut up!” Jose ordered.

  “I’d shut up, Josh,” Travis said.

  “No, this is bullshit. We came here in peace; we meant no harm.”

  Jose was fidgety and also appeared nervous.

  For Travis, time had slowed down and he was just waiting for the right moment to strike.

  “Aunt Elise!” Josh hollered.

  “Enough, white boy, I told you to shut up!” Jose screamed as he broke away from Travis, marched over to Josh and shot him in the head.

  That was Travis’ cue. He pulled his pistol, took aim on Jose and shot him.

  Tom dropped the tire and went for his pistol, but several bullets rained down on him from behind. He dropped to the ground dead.

  Travis was moving fluidly, taking aim at one gang member after another and pulling the trigger.

  Bill managed to clear his holster but never got a round off before Pete shot him.

  Seeing this, Travis took aim on Pete and hit him with two well-placed rounds in the chest.

  Pete groaned and dropped to the ground.

  Travis spun around and began to run for his SUV. “Go, Cass, go!”

  She didn’t question a word; she slammed on the accelerator and lurched forward.

  Bullets from a half dozen other gang members rained down on Travis, hitting him in several places. Travis leapt into the open rear hatch and lay there returning fire as best he could. The large trailer provided cover for him.

  Bullets continued to hit the SUV. Each pang from a bullet made her jump, but it didn’t stop her. She kept the pedal down and sped south out of town.

  Five Miles North of Momence, Illinois

  Cassidy kept the SUV floored and wouldn’t stop until she felt they were clear of the city and any potential threat.

  Travis hadn’t moved from his spot in the back. They had been talking until he went quiet several minutes ago.

  “Travis, are you awake? Travis!” Cassidy cried.

  No reply.

  She pulled the vehicle over and jumped out. The rear hatch was still open and there she found him lying atop packs, boxes and gear.

  “Travis!” she cried again.

  No reply.

  Not until she climbed into the back with him did she notice all the blood. She lifted her hand and it was coated with a thick layer of it. She leaned over him and listened for his breath. She felt it ever so faint against her cheek.

  “Oh, thank God you’re still alive.”

  He suddenly opened his eyes and with his right hand tugged at her sleeve.

  “There you are. I thought you were dead.”

  “I am.”

  “Stop that talk.”

  He took a deep breath and when he exhaled a wheezing sound came from his chest.

  “What was that noise?” she asked.

  “Air escaping my lungs,” he said with a labored voice.

  “We’re going to get you better, I promise,” she said frantically.

  “No, not going to happen, I’ve lost too much blood.”

  “Shut up, would you.”

  “Do you have the letter?”

  “Please don’t, please don’t die. I don’t want to be out here alone.”

 
; “Do you have the letter?”

  Tears streamed down her face. “Yes, of course I do.”

  “Promise me you’ll take it to Tess. Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  He coughed and a large volume of blood flowed from his mouth.

  “You stay here and I’ll go find someone. There has to be something, someone.”

  “Lie with me, please. I’m getting cold. Just lie with me.”

  She wiped her face clear of tears but smeared blood across it in the process. Knowing he was right, she lay alongside him.

  “I hope you find Devin,” he said.

  She put her head against his chest and listened to each breath until he took his last.

  Day 240

  May 30, 2015

  Dulce, New Mexico

  Mueller sat sobbing on the bed. His face, arms and chest were bruised heavily from the blast. The ringing in his ear wouldn’t go away and he had lost some motor function in his left hand. But his tears weren’t self-pity, his tears were for Lisa.

  The chancellor had returned her body to him early that morning. When the guards brought her back, they joked amongst each other and openly mocked him. Like a piece of garbage, they tossed her lifeless body on a gurney and gave Mueller a handwritten note from Horton.

  The note read, ‘Don’t ever defy me again. Her blood is on your hands, not mine.’ After reading it, he angrily crumpled it up and tossed it across the room.

  So many times he had been given warnings or suggestions on how to act or had felt the sharp edge of ridicule.

  He cleaned her body and wrapped it in a sheet. Only after he completed taking care of her did he allow himself to mourn. As he sobbed, his pain turned to outrage and hatred.

  “No more. You will not treat me like fucking trash. I am someone; I am not a nobody. I created the Death, I did!” he screamed and pounded his fist. “I will not be treated this way by…” He paused and took a deep breath. “By a bureaucrat. He would not be where he is without me. He owes this all to me, me!” He pounded his fists repeatedly.

  In a fit of rage he began to destroy the lab. Taking a stool, he began swinging it across the tabletops, smashing the glass beakers, tubes, vials and delicate equipment. When he saw something untouched, he’d fly over in a rage and smash it, all the while screaming.

  When he was done, the lab was completely destroyed. Not a vessel, device, or instrument was left; he had completely destroyed it all.

  His heart was pounding and he sweat like a man who had just run a marathon. The pains from his injuries began to surface. He took the stool he had used to destroy the place and sat on it.

  Thoughts came of what he’d do now. It was unexplainable to him why he was still alive. He thought his value was gone, but for some reason Horton must still need him. That day would end, there was absolutely no doubt now. It must be because he wanted him around until after the new virus was dispersed; that’s what it had to be, he thought.

  What that meant was he had time and he was going to use that time to finally exact revenge. He was going to change the world, not Horton. He was tired and emotionally devastated. He was no longer going to be the butt of jokes, he was no longer going to be mocked, he was going to exact his revenge on everyone, on the whole world.

  With a clear purpose he rose and went to the refrigerator. He grabbed all the vaccine and headed for a sink; he smashed each vial and washed it down the drain. He then went back to the refrigerator and pulled out the test vials of the virus and took them to his desk. With a pen he relabeled them all to say vaccine.

  When he was done, he smiled broadly. Carefully he walked them back and placed them in the refrigerator.

  A complete sense of payback filled him. He would have his ultimate retribution. He had described the new virus as a beautiful killer. It was truly amazing, he had perfected it, and no one was naturally immune. So without a vaccine it would kill every single individual who came into contact with it.

  “Doctor?” asked one of the former lab assistants.

  Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t heard him enter.

  “What the hell happened?” the assistant asked.

  “Why are you here?” Mueller asked.

  “I was sent down here. The chancellor is requesting that the vaccine be administered. Looks like we’re a day and a wake up before the operation begins.”

  Mueller didn’t say a word, he only gave the young man a wide and toothy grin.

  “Doctor, are you okay?”

  “Your timing is perfect. Who is getting the first vaccine shot?” Mueller asked.

  “I believe the chancellor is.”

  “As it should be. Go ahead, it’s in the fridge,” Mueller said and stepped out of the way.

  “Sure,” the assistant said and apprehensively walked past him. A moment later he reemerged with the vials and a large bag full of syringes in his arms. “I was also supposed to ask you if you’ll personally escort the pallets of virus topside.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Looking over his shoulder several times, the assistant rushed out of the lab. His gut told him something was wrong with Mueller.

  Mueller watched the pallets of virus get loaded onto a cargo plane. Each pallet had four fifty-five-gallon drums of virus. Those drums would be loaded onto aircraft that had vaporizers; the liquid would be chilled, condensed then sprayed as a thick vapor over the entire world.

  Mueller had estimated the operation would take several weeks to complete once it was started, and by the sounds of it, that was soon.

  “Doctor, hello,” Horton said, walking up behind Mueller.

  “Chancellor, what a pleasure to see you.”

  Horton rubbed his upper arm and complained, “That fucking vaccine stung; was it supposed to do that?”

  “Yes, it stings when you take it. That’s what all the patients expressed during testing.”

  “How many received the vaccine?”

  “Enough to verify it works; I took it a while back.”

  “It really hurts.”

  “Sir, I was curious if you’ll be needing me anymore now that the operation is about to go underway?”

  “Listen, I apologize for my behavior. I shouldn’t do anything while I’m drunk, and that girl, I hope you didn’t take that personally. You can’t, you were going to dispose of her anyway once you were done with whatever testing you were doing. And yes, I still need you.”

  Mueller faced him and said, “I do take what you did to her personally. I also have taken it personally every time you’ve put me down or ridiculed me.”

  Shocked by his response, Horton said, “Well, lighten up, Doctor.”

  “I’m fine now. Everything is good.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Horton said. He patted Mueller on the back and slowly walked off, still rubbing his upper arm.

  Charleston, South Carolina

  A man stuck his head into Devin’s tent and announced, “Slaver’s here. Let’s go see if there’s any fresh meat.”

  Most of the pirates jumped up and ran out.

  Poppy poked his head in to see if everyone was informed about the slaver’s arrival and saw Devin sitting on his cot. “Aren’t you going to see if the slaver has any new women?”

  “No.”

  Poppy stepped into the tent and approached him. “Are you gay?”

  “No, I’m not gay. I just don’t want to see the fucking slaver; is that okay with you?” Devin snapped.

  “C’mon, get up. You don’t have to buy any women. It can be pure entertainment sometimes; you don’t want to miss it,” Poppy insisted.

  “I’m good right here.”

  “It’s a fucking order, c’mon.”

  Devin exhaled heavily and said, “Fine.”

  Outside the musty tent a large and rowdy crowd had gathered around the slaver’s pickup and horse trailer.

  Just when Devin walked up, the men began to boo and hiss.

  “What’s wrong?” Devin asked.

  “No women, this
slack jaw shows up empty. He’s here only to pick up if he can,” a pirate said and walked off, mumbling profanities.

  “Can I go back to the tent?” Devin asked.

  “Huh, I don’t recognize this slaver, must be new. Probably why he’s empty. Poor jackass is just starting out.”

  Devin turned around and began to head back when a familiar voice hit his ears. He stopped and turned. He heard the voice again, but couldn’t see the man through the sea of bodies between him and the slaver.

  He pushed his way through until he reached the front of the slaver’s truck.

  “No women today, but I’ll buy some, top dollar!”

  Devin cleared his throat loudly.

  The slaver turned and faced him.

  Devin couldn’t believe his eyes. Daryl from Reed, Illinois, was the slaver.

  “Do you have any women you want to sell?” Daryl asked Devin.

  “Can we talk in private?” Devin asked as he grabbed Daryl by his arm and pulled him away from the crowd.

  “Hi, Dev.”

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Devin asked.

  “Here to rescue you.”

  “Are you fucking crazy?”

  “Is that a trick question?”

  “How did you find me?”

  “I’ll give you the short version. Tess left me a note at my house. After much thought I decided to come and see if I could join your merry band of survivors; however, upon arriving, I find out Tess is missing, presumed dead, and you left to go confirm that. Brianna told me everything.”

  “And Hudson?” Devin asked.

  “Safe and sound.”

  “Finally a happy ending, I have the worst luck.”

  “Well, today is your lucky day. Hop in and let’s go.”

  “How the hell did you get in?”

  “Another long story I’ll shorten for obvious reasons. In order to rescue Hudson, I had to join the slavers who had him. It wasn’t easy, but I managed to get recruited, probably similar to your situation.”

  “I’m a prisoner.”

  “You don’t look like one.”

  “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. But we have a complication. Tess is alive and she is definitely a prisoner and they plan on executing her tomorrow.”