by Seiple, Paul
"I should have never given the OK to infect those men. It wasn't ready to be tested."
"You intentionally infected this town?" Fisher asked, stepping into the tent.
"How much did you hear?" Hendricks asked.
"Enough." Fisher turned to Salk. "When did you become a murderer?"
"It was supposed to be contained to the test subjects. They were brothers…"
"I get the name Judas now," Fisher said.
"I had everything in place to control this. Byrd was going to monitor the infected. It progressed faster than I thought. It's beyond containment."
"Carrie was in on this?" Fisher asked.
"No. She was just doing her job," Salk said.
"I should just walk away now. You all deserve to die here, but those people in that town don't. Once this is over, you're going to pay for this."
Hendricks received another text. More fires spotted. He stepped away from the conversation and sent a reply. Eliminate Fisher.
* * *
"He's just going to set more fires," Melanie said.
"Maybe Neal's doing us a favor," Winston said, walking a few steps in front of Melanie.
"How so?"
"He's taking out the enemy."
"You mean the government."
Winston smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Black Dog is like Hotel California; once you check in, you're never leaving. For some reason, they want the fires out. It sure as hell isn't to save us, but I'm sure every helicopter they send in here is going to meet the same end as that one. And I bet once the pilots figure that out, there will be a mutiny." Winston stopped and faced Melanie. "OK, they're probably going to draw guns when we get close, so stay back a bit." He paused and smiled again. "And try not to call them assholes."
Two black tanks blocked the south exit of Black Dog. Melanie hesitated, but Winston kept toward them. A man dressed in a black biohazard suit emerged from behind the tanks.
"You are not allowed to leave Black Dog. Turn around or face deadly force."
Winston froze and locked his hands behind his head as if he were being arrested. "Why would I want to leave this paradise? I need to speak with Dr. Robert Salk. I have information from Dr. Byrd."
* * *
"You'll both burn in hell for this."
"Believe me, Mark, I never wanted this to happen."
Fisher laughed and looked at Hendricks. "Did you brainwash him? Bob used to be one of the smartest men I knew. Now he's just a dumb son-of-a-bitch." He turned back to Salk. "You didn't want this to happen? Tell me, Bob, what exactly did you think would happen when you infected a town with a man-made biological weapon that you have no control over?"
"We have control over it. It's contained," Hendricks said.
"Great. Then you don't need me anymore. I guess I'll be going home."
"We need a cure," Salk said.
"Yeah, you do. That's something you should have thought about before you made those people guinea pigs."
"We need the cure to continue the project," Hendricks said.
"Are you shitting me? The only correct answer is you need the cure to save the innocent people you infected," Fisher said.
"Excuse me, General."
All eyes moved to the soldier who interrupted the conversation.
"There is a man who is asking for Dr. Salk. He claims to have spoken with Dr. Byrd before her death."
Salk started to leave the tent. Hendricks grabbed his arm.
"I need to talk to him first. Stay here with him." Hendricks pointed at Fisher.
* * *
"So, either one of you ever killed a man?"
Neither soldier acknowledged the question. They stood still between the tanks, clutching machine guns.
"You're wanting to shoot me right now, aren't you?" Winston pointed to Melanie. "Maybe her too? You got itchy finger syndrome, don't you?"
The men didn't move.
"Hey, either one of you launch that rocket at the helicopter?"
"That's enough." Hendricks split the soldiers.
"Ah, you must be the badass. No body condom for you, huh?"
"I'm General Hendricks and I don't need a hazmat suit. You're not going to get close enough to infect me."
Winston laughed. "Guess I was wrong about the badass thing. Where's Salk?"
"You can speak with him, but I have a few questions first."
"OK, the answer to your first question is, no, I am not sick. And your second question, I have no idea why I am not sick."
"Are you the one starting fires?" Hendricks asked.
"Really? I thought you guys were here about a virus, not to prevent forest fires."
"Are you the one starting fires?"
"No. I'm afraid I forgot to pick up marshmallows before you closed our town down."
"Do you know who is starting fires?"
"Maybe. That's a few questions. It's not my fault you asked the same thing. Where's Salk?"
"I need you to stop the person who is setting fires."
"And I need to speak to Salk."
"You can talk to Salk after you do what I ask."
"If I don't?"
Hendricks smiled. "If you don't, then I have no use for you, and I'll order my men to kill you."
Winston didn't have a response. He stood in silence, trying to muster a comeback.
"Douse the fire starter and then I'll let you speak with Salk." Hendricks turned to walk away.
"You want me to kill him?" Winston asked.
Hendricks didn't bother facing Winston when he replied. "I want the fires to stop. I do not care how that happens. Just make it happen."
* * *
"If you don't tell Richie and James what you told me, I will tell them," Fisher said.
"No one is telling anyone anything," Hendricks said, walking back into the tent. "Nothing said in this tent leaves."
"They have the right to know, Tom," Salk said.
"Bob's right. They really should know how big of assholes you two are," Fisher said.
"Nothing leaves this tent."
"Can I go meet with the guy now?" Salk asked.
"Later. He's running an errand for me."
"I don't think they would even believe me if I told them how big of an asshole you are, Tom," Fisher said.
* * *
Winston walked by Melanie with purpose, with rage. Not rage from the sickness, but inside, he was boiling. Winston held valuable evidence toward a cure for the infection and the only thing that pompous asshole cared about was putting out fires.
"Wait. What happened?" Melanie ran to catch up to Winston.
"That guy was the biggest dick I've ever met, and that is saying a lot, given what's going on."
"Salk?"
Winston stopped to take a few deep breaths. "I didn't see Salk. Apparently, I have to do the military's dirty work before they let me talk to him."
"Dirty work? What the hell is going on?"
Winston pointed to a plume of smoke rising just below Luther's Diner. "They want me to stop that."
"Neal?"
Winston nodded and started toward the smoke.
* * *
Neal Harvey was born in Black Dog. He never left. After high school, he worked full time at his family's grocery store, The Corner Market. It was the same path most people took who were born in the small town. Black Dog held a warmth that made everyone feel like extended family. When his father passed away ten years ago, Neal took over the store. He knew every face, every name, and yet he felt no remorse torching the bodies of people he once called friends. Singeing heat replaced the warmth he felt for his neighbors. Unlike Winston, there was never a moral tug-of-war with Neal. His actions were bestowed upon him by a higher being. Neal was never much of a religious man. He went to church on Sundays because that's what people did in Black Dog, but sitting at home getting ready for an afternoon of football appealed more to Neal. His wife, Nancy, made sure he never missed church. Another thing about small-town life is gossip and Nancy wan
ted no part of it.
Nancy was the first to get sick. Neal's daughter, Sally, didn't get sick. Her fate was much worse than becoming infected. Neal watched his peaceful family turn into harbingers of violence. He had no choice but to kill Nancy after he caught her tearing at Sally's flesh with her teeth. Neal shot Nancy in the head, but it was too late. His daughter's screams stuck with Neal like tinnitus. A constant ringing, reminding him of the horror. The image of his daughter coming back to life after her mother ripped her throat out was scorched his mind, laying waste to happy memories. Several times, Neal tasted the metal from the barrel of his gun, but he couldn't pull the trigger. Every time he applied slight pressure to the trigger, the words of Reverend Garland Ashley wouldn't let Neal kill himself. "I have not denied the words of the Holy One."
Neal related what was happening in Black Dog to Reverend Ashley's sermon on the suffering of Job. He tried to rationalize watching his daughter rise from death to try to attack him. It was not earthly possible. Only a higher being could resurrect the dead. The only explanation Neal could muster was God was punishing him for shallow faith. Unlike Job whose faith never wavered, Neal pretended to believe, but God saw through the deceit. The sacrilege of going to church on Sunday without putting your heart into it. God punished him by taking Nancy and Sally and now Neal had to make things right. To the rational mind, the thought of God murdering a man's family because he was just a warm seat in church was insane, but then again, so was the thought of the dead not dying.
Neal put a flame to the body of Edna Jones. She loved the homemade chicken salad from The Corner Market and joked with Neal every week about killing him and stealing the recipe. As he watched Edna burn, Neal quoted from the Book of Job. "The fire from God fell from heaven and burned up the sheep and servants, and consumed them."
"Neal, you have to stop burning the dead." Winston bent over and tried to catch his breath from running. Daylight started to tease its exit. Winston had to act fast.
"Go away, Winston. I have to make things right with God. Maybe he will bring Nancy and Sally back to me."
Winston didn't respond. Neal's desperation cut deep. Winston wasn't burning bodies, but he wasn't much different than Neal. He held on to hope that he could save Marianna. Bring her back from the dead. Reality cut deeper. Marianna was dead, just as Nancy and Sally Harvey. Nothing was going to bring them back.
"God didn't kill your family," Melanie said. "This virus did and, for all we know, you're spreading it burning these bodies."
"Fire purifies." Neal turned to Winston and Melanie and pointed the torch. "Don't try to stop me from doing God's work."
Melanie nudged Winston and whispered, "Say something or shoot him."
Winston cleared his thoughts. "You've got the military pretty pissed at you, Neal. You have to cut it out with the fires."
"Or what, Winston? Are you going to shoot me?"
"I don't want to." Winston placed his hand on the Colt still nestled in its holster.
"Why do you think this happened to us?" Neal asked.
"I don't know," Winston said.
"We weren't living right by God." A sudden cough interrupted Neal. Blood trickled from his nostrils. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket, smearing blood. "I despise myself and repent in ashes and dust."
"What the hell is he talking about?" Melanie whispered.
"He's quoting the Book of Job, but he's losing his mind. He's infected." Winston spoke to Neal. "How long have you been sick?"
"It's part of the test. Loathsome sores from head to toe." Neal coughed again and spit blood. "I will not curse my Lord. These burnt offerings will bring Nancy and Sally back to me."
"Shoot him," Melanie said. "You saw what they did to that helicopter. We are sitting ducks here. I didn't escape Dean to just die by a military strike."
"Just like Job, Winston. God will restore things."
Neal coughed, this time violently. He fell to his knees, dropping the torch. Fire raced up the sleeve of his jacket. Neal screamed and sprang to his feet. He charged Winston like a human torch. Winston freed the Colt from the holster and fired one shot into Neal's head. He keeled over just as the flames engulfed him. Smoke rose from the fire that consumed Neal's body. It danced in the autumn wind like a soul ascending to the heavens.
"Rest well, my friend. Give Nancy and Sally a hug for me." A hug. At that moment, Winston wanted nothing more than to hug his wife. Saving her wasn't possible, but he could end her suffering and join her. He eyed the Colt.
"What are you doing?" Melanie asked, grabbing at Winston's wrist. For the first time, she saw hopelessness in Winston's eyes. "Don't you dare think about giving up. We have to show these assholes we're survivors."
Winston smiled and put the Colt back in the holster. "Once we get out of this mess, you should think about becoming an inspirational speaker."
Melanie smiled back. "A regular Tony freaking Robbins."
* * *
"You're clinging to me like a stubborn turd, Tom. Afraid I'll spill your dirty little secrets?"
"It's imperative that what you heard is not repeated."
"Yeah, I can see how it would be bad press if the word got out you intentionally infected Americans with your war drug."
Fisher moved to the entrance of the tent. Hendricks grabbed his arm and pulled the large man toward him without much effort.
"I wanted you for the initial project, but that was before I knew you. I sure as hell don't want you now. You need to keep this secret." Hendricks pushed Fisher away from him. "Are we clear?"
"You don't want me, but you sure as hell need me." Fisher smiled. "Once this is over, I'll sing at the top of my lungs how much of an asshole you are, if I choose to. Are we clear?"
"Sir, the man is back."
Hendricks turned his attention away from Fisher. "Have Salk suit up. Get Fisher a suit too if you can find one big enough."
* * *
"I don't trust these people. Take this." Winston handed Melanie the Colt. "Go hide behind Betty's house. If anything happens to me, go back to my house…" Winston hesitated. "If anything happens to me, will you make sure that Marianna doesn't suffer?" He eyed the gun in Melanie's hand.
"Screw them. Don't tell them what Byrd told you. They caused this mess. Let them figure it out. They see we are alive. That's good enough. Dean said he could get out of Black Dog. We can too. We don't need them."
Winston took Melanie's hand. "They have every possible way out blocked. I'm not doing this for them. I'm doing it because I promised Dr. Byrd I would. Take a look around. They've taken just about everything from us. They can't take our word."
Melanie sighed. "If something happens to you, I'll take care of Marianna."
Winston let a brief smile escape.
"I take it you put out the fires." Hendricks stood beside a tank, flanked by two armed guards in biohazard suits. "Who's your friend?"
"Go," Winston said to Melanie. "She was just leaving, Hendricks."
"The fires?"
"Your people took care of that before you blew them out of the sky."
"If I didn't know better, I would think you were trying to paint me to be the bad guy here, Winston."
Hendricks moved closer, almost touching the caution tape that roped off Black Dog. Winston waited until Melanie was out of sight and then started toward Hendricks. Winston chuckled under his breath; the scene reminded him of a classic old western meeting of good guy versus bad guy. With everything he had done over the last few days, Winston wasn't sure if there was a good guy in this plot.
"Stop right there," Hendricks said. "That's close enough."
The soldiers aimed their assault rifles at Winston. He stopped about twenty feet from Hendricks. Part of Winston wanted to rebel against the government that made him a prisoner in his own town, but he remembered what happened to Ticker Evans when he didn't obey.
"Is it safe to assume the fire threat has been eliminated?" Hendricks asked.
"I took care of it,"
Winston said.
Hendricks motioned to someone behind one of the tanks. "I'm a man of my word, Winston. This is Dr. Robert Salk and the fat one is Dr. Mark Fisher. I hope your words will lead to a resolution."
Salk and Fisher, both in hazmat suits, passed Hendricks on their way to the caution tape. The soldiers retreated behind tanks but still kept Winston in their sights.
"Can I move now?" Winston asked.
Salk waved Winston forward. Fisher watched the soldiers.
"Did Byrd become infected or was she...?" Salk asked.
"No hello. No thanks for stopping the pyromaniac. I have to be honest, he kinda stopped himself."
"There is no time for that. Did Byrd get sick?" Salk asked again.
"Yeah, she got sick. She wasn't murdered. What the hell is this?"
"I was hoping you could answer that question for me," Salk said.
"Well, let's see, you get sick, you kill people, and then you die." Winston paused. "That about sums it up."
"Are you presenting?" Fisher asked.
Winston hit him with a befuddled look.
"Are you sick?"
"No."
"We need his blood, Bob. If this is as infectious as you say, he may carry an antibody."
"How many people are left in Black Dog?" Salk asked.
"I'm not sure. Can we get this over with? It's going to be dark soon. You don't want to be out after dark. Not to mention, guns aimed at my head tend to make me nervous." Winston pointed to the soldiers.
"Can you guys fall back?" Fisher asked.
"No, sir. General's orders to stay right here."
"What about the woman with you? Is she infected?" Salk asked.
Winston looked over his shoulder. "I don't see anyone with me."
"We are trying to help you," Salk said.
"You have a funny way of showing it. Beetle Bailey and Gomer Pyle want to shoot me. Your friend wants my blood, and my own country is holding me prisoner."
"Your blood could be the key to a cure," Fisher said.
"So, you do know what this is? Why am I not surprised you're lying to me?"
"You're right, it's getting dark. What did Byrd tell you?" Salk said.