by Steve Kuhn
Listen, we’re going to hold here for five days and not a second more. Col. Lang will be expecting some sort of communication from us ASAP, and I fear I can’t hold him off much longer than that.
Please respond. We need you to take command of all known forces immediately and ensure that the only people taking orders from Col. Lang are his innermost circle. We need you to ensure the safety of Kylee Peel and Dr. Morofsky, because there is a chance they can stop this thing.
I also need you to back me up when I make it to Fort Bragg. I’m going to get my family before he can make it to them.
Mr. Baxter has been invaluable in documenting the current state of things, and I will encourage him to continue to do so. All new communications from Mr. Baxter’s diary will be transcribed and rerouted to you. It is my hopes that by doing so we can give you a clear picture of our situation, upon which you can make intelligent, informed decisions.
I understand that this is a huge responsibility that is being thrust upon you by a virtual stranger. I assure you, I’m already in deep shit on this thing as it is, but I don’t need to tell you how high the stakes are here. This is real. My family’s lives, and possibly the lives of everyone left, are on your shoulders. I’ve always heard about how tough you marines are. It’s time to prove it.
I’ll be waiting. You have five days.
Sincerely and with Respect,
SSG Daniel M. Chalmers
United States Army
Entry 126
Still haven’t seen Kylee yet. Murphy said she was all right, though, and she’d been put up in another part of the facility. He told us that we’d be able to see her in another day or so. Normally, I’d be skeptical, but I’ve learned to trust Murphy. If he said she was good, then she was good—period.
More important was the matter of Alyse. Clint dropped some heavy shit on us back there about Kylee and her old man that still hasn’t had time to sink in, but Hook needed to see Alyse ASAP. I told Clint we’d have time to talk about all the other shit later, and he agreed. He laid out some ground rules and said we’d be allowed to move around the facility as long as Murphy or he was with us. Clint left us just as swiftly as he came.
It took a few hours for Murphy to return to the room and take us out into the hallway. The men that were posted to block our exits were no longer there, and a janitorial crew immediately entered the room and began cleaning up the mess inside. Murphy was holding a duffle bag over his shoulder when he arrived, and as we hit the stairway, he dropped it and knelt to rummage through it.
He asked no one in particular, “You believe this shit?”
Cutty answered with, “Nope. Sho’ don’t.”
Lilly said flatly, “Kylee’s daddy is a bad guy.”
Snorting a laugh, Hook added, “Yeah, he’s a real asshole. You met this other doctor that Clint was talkin’ about?”
Murphy stood up and passed Hook and me a pistol each, saying, “You don’t know the half of it. Guy’s name’s Morofsky. He’s about as social as a brick wall, but he’s no dummy. Says he’s been here for a few days working on a fix for this thing. Claims he has a man here who is just like Kylee, and says that if he gets what he needs from Kylee, they may be able to put a stop to the entire spread.”
Lilly said, “Someone special like Kylee? You mean, he won’t turn into a monster like everyone else?”
Murphy nodded to her and said, “Seems so.” He reached down into the bag once more and passed Cutty his machetes, adding, “Keep these things visible but stowed safely. I had to argue with that asshole Chavez for twenty minutes just to get pistols and blades. Don’t expect any rifles. That being said, pass me the ones you took off the guards. Part of the deal was returning them.”
Lilly offered up the boot knife she lifted from mush mouth disappointedly, but Murphy winked at her and told her to keep it, saying, “Nah, that’s yours now, little one. I was talkin’ to Sally.”
Lilly giggled at me.
I didn’t like the idea of handing over the rifles, but if it meant we would be allowed to stay armed, it seemed worth it. I complied and nudged Cutty to do the same.
Hook cut the conversation off and said, “Alyse.”
With a nod Murphy hefted the duffle bag back up on his shoulder and led us down the stairs and outside. The light of the sun had us all squinting for a moment, but once our eyes adjusted, Murphy led us into the building said to hold Alyse.
It was a more modern-looking structure than the shitty dorm we were in, and as we entered the doors, the unmistakably sterile hospital smell overtook us. The place was immaculate, with fully functional fluorescent lighting and bland tile floors. It reminded me of the hospital where it all began for me.
That day was crazy. Well, each one’s been crazier than the previous day since, but that was when it all happened for me. Those stories about people biting each other and getting sick had been playing on the news for a week or so, and I had been following it closely. No one really freaked out until they started closing off entire communities. When everyone started to see the military convoys roll into their areas, it got real.
It was like it always was. Everyone watched the shit unfold on television and the internet, on phones, and on social media. Reality had gotten so weird because of all that interconnectivity. It made life more of a dream than a reality.
I remember how people would be right there in front of something awesome, but they’d always miss the actual experience because they were too busy watching it through their phones. They had to have it on video, so it could be uploaded to their fucking blog or whatever. Friends barely even talked to one another anymore, because you could just shoot them a text. Families stopped having dinner together and sat around the tube. Husbands and wives stopped talking to each other regularly and, instead, sat on the couch and stared at their cell phones. That was what life had become.
But that all changed when everyone took a second to look up from their devices to see that it was their town with the tanks rolling through the streets. It was their children being escorted off the school bus and lined up on the sidewalk for decontamination. Shit got real.
I was one of those people, too. I can’t lie. I heard from my mom that one of my uncles had a run-in with one of the “nuts.” That’s what she called them. She said he was headed to the hospital and since it was close to where I worked, I should go check on him. I told her I’d head over after work.
About an hour later, the boss came over and said, “Look, they’re sayin’ that the power is about to be cut to conserve energy for the emergency sites and the Goddamn highway is packed. We’re lucky we still have internet access as it is. The more I hear about this thing, the more worried I’m gettin’.”
I’ve never been one to care about work beyond doing my usual. Hell, my buddies used to call me “Eight and Skate” because they knew I was outta there as soon as my hours were up. I looked the boss right in his bitch-ass eyes and said, “I suddenly don’t feel so well, cough-cough…”
He knew what was up. Told me not to worry about the sick time and that he was just gonna shut us down for the day. That was that. I left the office and hit the road headed to the hospital—well, sort of. I made it about a block before the traffic started. I sat there for about fifteen minutes, but people started getting out of their cars and shit, just milling around the streets. I decided it’d be better to just go back and park it in the lot at the office. The hospital was only a few blocks up, and I figured I could hang out there with my uncle until the streets cleared out a little.
By the time I walked back to where the traffic was jammed up, the fires had started. People were fighting with the police, and looters started smashing the windows in storefronts and all that. Then, shit got real for me.
I saw an officer tussling with a civilian who kept trying to bite him. It wasn’t much of a fight until another one approached. He was screaming at them, “Get back! Get back!” Seconds later, one of the pair took a huge bite out of the cop’s forearm. He shriek
ed before kicking his foot into its chest to knock it away. As it began to approach again, the officer drew his weapon and fired two shots into its chest. It just kept coming at him.
He spun around to the other attacker and shot two more times. The bullet passed through its body and whizzed by my head, causing me to flinch. I never expected to be able to hear a bullet fly past, but they do this hissing, whistle sound. I’ve become accustomed to it now. The officer never got off a fifth round as the two closed in on him. That was when I started running.
I ran as fast as I could with his screams fading behind me and didn’t stop until I made it to the hospital. They didn’t even let me in. I was met by more police officers blocking the entrances and a mob of people trying to break through the lines. I watched for a long moment, but turned away when they began firing into the crowd.
Damn.
Anyway…
Murphy led Hook into Alyse’s room and told the rest of us to wait. I was cool with that. I would’ve wanted it that way, too. I took the moment to ask Lilly what she thought about all of this, and her answer was beautiful in its simplicity. She told me and Cutty with a shrug, “Shit happens, guys.”
Cutty laughed and asked her, “You hear that one from JC, too?”
She pursed her lips and answered him with, “Nah. Daddy used to say it all the time. Now I know what he meant.”
I raised an eyebrow at her and asked her to clarify.
She said, “Shit’s a bad word—like, a big person’s way of saying ‘stuff.’ So, it’s like, bad stuff. And, well, bad stuff happens sometimes, even to good people like us.”
I looked at Cutty, and he just looked back at me, nodding like, ‘Pretty much.’
I smiled at Lilly and said, “Yeah, sometimes. Seems like it happens to us more often than not.”
She giggled her little, girlish giggle and told us both, “It’s a good thing you have me around to keep you safe, huh?”
Cutty frowned a bit and said, “We keep each otha safe da best we can, yeah. Sometime dat ain’t enough, though, like wit’ Alyse in there. We couldn’t keep her safe…”
Lilly scowled at Cutty and said, “Oh hush it, Cutty! She is safe. Now she is, ’cause JC, Mommy, and Daddy are up in heaven watching out for her—for all of us. She just needed a rest. So, some shit happened. And it’ll happen again, too.”
Cutty sat down on the floor with his back against the wall, and I did the same. Lilly stood there looking at us with her hand on her hip. God, she looked just like Kylee, standing there. She took her knife out of its little sheath on her hip. Then she set it down on the ground next to Cutty before curling up on his lap and laying her head on his chest.
I think we’re just gonna rest here until Hook is ready.
Letter to SSG Chalmbers
Emergency Wire Connection Established
Signal Source: Classified
Signal Destination: Albuquerque, NM
Date: Classified
Re: Classified
Active Settings:
- Radial Jamming Sequences
- Encryption (Level 4)
- Hide Channel
- IP Spoof
- False Packets (Outgoing)
SSG Chalmers,
I’ve reviewed the documents, as you requested, and I have to say, this is one helluva mess you people made. I knew as soon as I found out that this wasn’t a DOD project, it was going to turn to shit. I can’t say I’m excited that you chose to come to me of all people, but it is what it is.
Listen and listen good, son. You want me to take this thing on, and that’s all fine and well, but there are some conditions to be met. I’ll lay them out here in an attempt to be as clear and transparent as possible.
First, you do what I tell you to do without question. That’s non-negotiable. I’m in a good area with the best communications in the country, probably the world. I have eyes and ears where I need them, and my men would walk into a wood chipper if I ordered them to do so. You’re going to have to just trust me and do what you’re told. You are now under my command—no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
Second, don’t even think for a minute that you’re going to come out of this shit squeaky clean just because you ‘fessed up, son. I expect to meet you face to face one day, and when that day comes, you’ll have to answer for your part in this. That being said, this is your chance to start making amends. I’m sure that if you perform up to my standard, we can work something out—something that doesn’t involve me feeding your traitorous ass to the bernies, or the Zs, or whatever you hooahs call them.
Third, I don’t trust you. Let me say that again. I don’t trust you. That’s a problem, son. You’re clearly a good liar and an even better backstabber. The only way you’re going to earn that trust is through actions. Now, you have a family, and they don’t even know what kind of danger they’re in, so I’m going to make an educated guess that they are your main motivation right now. Luckily for you, that motivation falls directly in line with my current course of action. That is to say that I have men en route to Fort Bragg as it stands, and that’s where your people are. You will need to rendezvous with them as soon as possible. I will send word that they should expect you, but not until you follow through with your orders detailed below.
My final condition is this: Don’t you ever, ever in your life, tell me it’s time to prove anything. I was chasing Viet Cong through dirt tunnels when you were a nut stain in your mommy’s panties, son.
I don’t need a reply from you answering to these conditions, by the way. This is just how it’s going to be.
Here are your orders:
I have a man coming to you by the name of Hicks. He will bring with him a detachment from Kilo Company. These men are the best there are. Their orders are to take over command of the facility and maintain its security. You will tell all armed forces on the premises to stand down and cooperate to the fullest. Hicks will delegate control from that point on.
Morofsky seems to be getting on with that Murphy guy, and it says in the journal that he knows some stuff about the earlier work with this Spark situation. See to it that Murphy keeps his people in check until Hicks arrives. I don’t want any more bullshit like what went on in that dorm. Make sure that the girl who was shot stays attended to as well. I have a feeling that this Alex guy will go off the deep end if she falls through.
Baxter and the black one, Cutty, along with the little girl, seem to be all right. Make sure Baxter doesn’t come across Chavez, though. He’s made it clear that if he sees Chavez again there’s going to be trouble. I don’t need any more trouble. You’ve given us all enough of that as it is.
The last order of business is Kylee and the man known as Subject 17. They need to get out of that facility. If they are the key to this thing, I have no doubt Col. Lang will be sending whatever men he can gather to come take them. You have to take them with you, and you have to keep them safe. Your goal is to meet me at Fort Bragg.
While I’m on the subject, have you even told her that her husband is alive? Do they even know they’re within a hundred yards of one another right now? If not, I suggest you sort that out ASAP. The colonel’s daughter doesn’t seem to be one to trifle with, and I’m not sure how she’ll react to what you people have done.
Hicks will see to it that the colonel’s men are met head-on and stalled, but I want you and those two gone long before that happens. If they end up sniffing around the facility for a while, it could buy us the time you need to get to Bragg.
Don’t bother taking the time to respond. Just get moving, son.
May God help us all.
LtCol Thigpen
United States Marine Corps
Entry 127
I guess Hook was finished visiting alone with Alyse after about a half hour. Murphy invited us into the room quietly, and we took a moment to sit with her. She was full of tubes and wires. Her breathing was short, but luckily not labored in any way. Her wound was covered by the typical hospital gown she was wearing,
but the bandages were visible where they were wrapped around her shoulder.
Cutty sat down next to her bed and quietly began reading a passage from the small Bible. “An’ He has said ta me, ‘Ma grace is sufficient fo’ you, fo’ power is perfected in weakness.’ Most gladly, therefo’, I will rather boast ’bout ma weaknesses, dat da power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefo’ I am well content wit’ weaknesses, wit’ insults, wit’ distresses, wit’ persecutions, wit’ difficulties, fo’ Christ’s sake; fo’ when I am weak, den I am strong… Corinthians 12:9-10.”
Hook scoffed in a skeptical manner. “Corinthians, huh? Only thing I know about Corinthians is they make some fine-ass leather.” He chuckled sarcastically at his own lame joke.
Lilly asked Cutty, “What did that mean? It sounded fancy.”
Cutty beckoned her over to him and explained, “It’s kinda like what you said out there in da hall, Lilly. It’s ’bout findin’ strength and trustin’ in God when bad stuff happens. It’s ’bout not bein’ afraid of those bad things, ’cause God is watchin’ out for you and it’ll be okay no matta what happens.”
Lilly wrinkled her nose, giving it some serious thought. “So, like, you’ll be okay no matter what? And even if you die, you get to go to heaven, and it’ll still be okay?”
Cutty nodded and told her, “Somethin’ like that, yeah.” He smiled at her encouragingly.
She frowned slightly as she asked him, “Why don’t we just kill ourselves then? I’d much rather be in heaven. I could see JC and Mommy and Daddy, and everything would be fun again.”
Cutty scooped her up and plopped her on his lap, saying, “It don’t work like that, baby girl. And I’ma call you baby girl ’cause I like to call you dat, not because it means you a baby.” He gave her a wink to show it was in good spirit. “You gotta try. You can’t just kill yo’self an’ expect to get into heaven. Dat’s da coward’s way out. You gotta live yo’ life and do e’rrything you can to be a good person. Gotta keep yo’ heart pure. Gotta say you’re sorry when you mess dat up—earn yo’ place in heaven. Dat’s why Alyse is fightin’ so hard right now, baby girl. She strong ’cause she got God on her side.”