Salvation: Secret Apocalypse Book 5 (A Secret Apocalypse Story)

by James Harden

“That is the handy work of the man in the gas mask,” he says, pointing to more dead soldiers scattered under the hanging corpses.

  “Who is he?” I ask. “The man in the gas mask. Who the hell is he?”

  Doctor Hunter bites his lip, like he is nervous. He lowers his head like he is ashamed.

  “Tell me!”

  He brushes Kim’s hair out of her face and looks at her with a kind of loving admiration. “He is a doctor. He was one of us. Together, we could’ve performed miracles. Together, we did perform miracles. But he had other plans.”

  “Wait, he helped create the Oz virus?”

  “Yes.”

  “He was part of your group? He was part of the ‘holy trinity’?”

  “Yes. He was the mastermind. He orchestrated everything. And then he sabotaged everything. We didn’t know at the time. No one did. No one could’ve known it was him. But it was him. All along. It was him. Every containment failure. Every single one. The outbreak. It was him. He wanted to set the virus loose. He wanted the plague. He made the Oz virus into what it is today. He caused the virus to mutate uncontrollably, to bring the dead back.”

  “Who is he? I want a name.”

  I don’t know why his name matters so much. But it does. I want a name.

  Doctor Hunter shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. I doubt he has ever told us his real name. We should never have trusted him.”

  “I want a goddamn name!”

  “Which one?”

  “What?”

  “Doctor Kumar Singh. Doctor Tariq Sayid. Other names that I can’t remember. Take your pick. He has so many aliases. So many tricks. So much deception.”

  “Why did you trust him?”

  “Because he was brilliant. Because he is a genius. An unbelievable genius. We would’ve followed him anywhere. We would’ve done whatever he wanted us to do. The military, the company would’ve done anything. We were all under his spell. All of us. He was the puppet master, pulling our strings. We were powerless to stop him.”

  And I think to myself, I could’ve stopped him. We had him locked up in that medical supply closet at the outpost.

  I shot him with a shotgun.

  I had two chances to stop this mass-murdering, genocidal maniac. And I failed both times.

  “I could’ve stopped him,” I whisper to myself.

  “No,” Doctor Hunter says. “No one can stop him. He outsmarted and deceived everyone. All the research staff. The company. The military. Five star Generals. He deceived entire governments and regimes. Do not beat yourself up. It was not your fault. None of this was your fault.”

  Together, Doctor Hunter and I carry an unconscious Kim out of the slaughterhouse. We stick to the center aisle. We keep our distance from all the hanging bodies.

  We enter another long dark corridor. The lights are flickering on and off.

  “Something is draining the power,” Doctor Hunter says.

  “What is it?”

  “Don’t know.”

  Doctor Hunter points to an electronic door. “In there.”

  Next to the electronic door is a palm reader. Doctor Hunter is about to place his hand on the scanner so the door can be opened, but he does not need to.

  The door opens. Magically.

  And I know that somewhere the puppet master is watching us and pulling our strings.

  We enter a room that appears to be some kind of research lab. It is full of computers and expensive looking technical equipment.

  “We’ll be safe in here,” Doctor Hunter says.

  “No we won’t. Not as long as he is still alive. I need to get Maria. I need to end this.”

  Doctor Hunter moves behind a desk. He types a few commands into a computer and then shows me the monitor. “You need to see this.”

  “What is it?”

  “Just look.”

  On the computer screen is a picture of Maria. A current photo. She looks tired. Extremely malnourished.

  Below her photo is a whole bunch of notes.

  Test Subject: Maria Marsh.

  Female.

  Sixteen years of age.

  Height: N/A.

  Eye color: Blue.

  Weight: N/A.

  Blood: Type A.

  Results:

  No resistance to current strain of the Oz virus.

  Blood contains no effective anti-bodies.

  Not resistant to the Tokyo Strain.

  Conclusion:

  Test Subject Maria Marsh is not immune to the Oz virus.

  “What the hell does this mean?” I ask. “Did he infect her? Did he turn her into a goddamn zombie?”

  “No,” Doctor Hunter says. “He took blood samples.”

  And I think to myself, he wouldn’t kill Maria in a lab. It’s not public enough.

  “So she’s not immune?” I ask. “She’s not immune to the current strain? What the hell does that mean?”

  “The virus mutates quickly,” Doctor Hunter says. “Sometimes on a daily basis. In terms of evolution, this rate of mutation is simply unheard of. The fact that Maria is no longer immune does not surprise me.”

  Doctor Hunter doesn’t seem to care. And he is not surprised. He has given up.

  “It’s over,” I say. “We’re done. There’s no stopping it.”

  “Wake up, Rebecca. You were never going to stop it. You were never going to save people. Maria was never going to cure people or vaccinate people. Not as long as he is alive. The virus has already spread. It is too late. It is over. It was over before it began. We never stood a chance.”

  “The virus has already spread?” I ask. “How do you know that?”

  “Think about it,” he says. “Think. How long did it take for Australia to become overrun? A week? Two weeks? It moves fast. No one can stop this thing. No one. It is inevitable. It has already happened.”

  I feel like my whole world is falling apart. I feel like I have just learnt that Santa Clause and the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny are not real.

  Maria is not immune.

  “How did she survive a bite?” I ask. “I saw it. I saw the whole thing. I saw the bite mark. The blood. I’ve seen the scar. She was dying. She was turning…”

  But she lived. She survived.

  “Like I said, the virus mutates. In the lab, it would change and mutate faster than we could keep track. We could barely keep up with it. Once we lost control, we had no hope of ever containing it. Who knows how fast it mutates in the real world? Once we could no longer contain it, once he released it into the wild and freed it from the lab, we were all doomed.”

  “Who knows about this?”

  “No one. Me. You. Him. Maybe Maria. No one. Not another living soul.”

  “The whole world is looking for Maria Marsh,” I whisper. “The rest of the world still thinks she is immune.”

  “Probably.”

  “He is still going to execute her.”

  “Yes.”

  “I have to stop him.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Are you kidding me? She’s my friend.”

  And my friends are all that I have left in this world. And I have thirty minutes to live. And I have thirty minutes to die. And I will not lose myself. I will not lose my soul. I will not turn into a monster. I will not turn into a snake. I am going to help my friend. I am going to help Maria. I am going to save her from a psychopath. I am going to save her from a public execution.

  I am going to kill the man in the gas mask.

  And that’s all there is to it.

  “Do you know where he is now?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  “Where?”

  Doctor Hunter motions up with his eyes, points to the ceiling. “The nerve center. The communications room. The Control Center. It is closer to the surface. High above us.”

  “He has Maria,” I say. “Do you know what he is going to do?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have to stop him.”

  “I don’t think you have time. Yo
u should stay.”

  “Not an option.”

  “Through those doors there are machines that could fix you,” he says, looking at my watch. “There are machines that could stop that nano-virus from ever activating.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Come on, you’re a smart girl. You should be able to figure this out.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? You can’t kill a nano-swarm.”

  Once it is activated, it will kill you. There is no stopping it.

  “You disappoint me,” he says.

  “The only thing that can stop a nano-swarm is an electromagnetic pulse,” I answer.

  “Ah, so you have been paying attention.”

  “Stop messing around. Tell me. Will an EMP kill the nano-swarm inside me?”

  “Yes. A strong EMP.”

  “But I don’t have any EMP weapons.”

  “Not a weapon. It is an MRI machine.”

  “A what?”

  “It is a machine that uses powerful electro magnets. It is used for scanning and diagnostics. It comes in very handy when scanning brains. That is why we have one here.”

  “Well, where the hell is it?”

  He looks over his shoulder. “Back there, through those doors. It is the big machine with a circular tube in the middle.”

  “How does it work?” I ask.

  How do I cure myself? How do I save myself?

  “It doesn’t matter. You do not have time. Not to do both. To save Maria or save yourself. I already know which one you will choose. So there is no point in telling you how to operate an MRI machine.”

  I look at my watch, at the countdown, and I know he is right.

  “In twenty minutes, you will be dead,” Doctor Hunter says. “But maybe, just maybe, Maria will be alive.”

  I am about to leave, I am about to make my way to the Control Center when Kim grabs me by the wrist. She is awake. Barely. “Go,” she whispers. “Get Maria. You have to stop him.”

  Chapter 41

  I move out of the lab and back into the long dark corridor with the flickering lights. I find the blood trail and I follow it.

  It eventually leads to the end of the corridor. It eventually leads to an elevator.

  I step inside.

  The buttons are not labeled with numbers. They are labeled with the names of each floor.

  Research sub-basement.

  Morgue.

  Storage.

  Research Level One.

  Research Level Two.

  Research Level Three.

  Control Center.

  The button for the Control Center has a keyhole next to it.

  I do not have a key.

  And nothing happens when I press the button labeled, ‘Control Center’.

  I am stuck.

  But I’m not.

  The doors close and the elevator starts rising because I am being watched and my strings are being pulled by the puppet master. At my feet is a small pool of blood. And I follow this blood trail all the way to Maria. I follow it out of the elevator and down another long corridor. I follow it to a solid steel door labeled ‘Control Center’. I approach the door and it magically opens. I step through. And the thick electronic doors close behind me with a hiss and a thud.

  I am standing on the top level of the Control Center. And I can’t help but think that this room looks a whole lot like the NASA mission control room. It is absolutely full of computers, but the first thing I see is the massive cinematic screen. It is directly opposite from where I am standing. And at the moment the only thing the screen shows is a countdown.

  Eighteen minutes. Thirty-three seconds.

  Thirty-two.

  Thirty-one.

  Thirty.

  The countdown is synchronized with my watch.

  Underneath the countdown the screen reads, ‘Codes have been confirmed. Ignition sequence activated’.

  The room is bright. Every single light is on and all the computers are on. And the computers all show the countdown.

  Eighteen minutes and twenty seconds.

  The rest of the room consists of descending rows of computers and work stations. A stairway, a center aisle leads down to the main floor. So I guess the room is like a movie theater. But instead of big comfy chairs with drink holders, there are computers and work stations.

  Down below, on the floor between the workstations and the cinematic screen is Maria.

  She is tied to a chair with electrical tape.

  For a few seconds I am hypnotized by the countdown on the massive screen.

  Eighteen minutes.

  This is all the time I have left in the world.

  I snap out of my hypnotic state and I run down the stairs to Maria.

  She appears to be asleep or unconscious. I know she has been drugged. It is the preferred method for keeping control of hostages down here in this Fortress. She is tied to the chair with roll after roll of electrical tape. She is also shackled like a prisoner from a maximum security prison. Her hands are cuffed behind her back. And the hand cuffs are attached to a chain that has shackled her feet together.

  There is absolutely no way I can free her.

  Her head is drooped forward so that her chin is resting against her chest.

  I can’t see the man in the gas mask anywhere. But again, I know he is near.

  I shake her gently by the shoulders. “Maria.”

  No response.

  “Maria, wake up!”

  She slowly opens her eyes. She smiles. “Heeeey buddy.”

  She looks and sounds drunk.

  “Are you OK?” I ask. “Did he hurt you?”

  “Hurt me? No. He’s been an absolute gentleman. He’s fed me. Given me plenty of water. I even had ice cream. Can you believe that? Ice cream!”

  “Maria, keep your voice down. He’s somewhere down here. I know he is.”

  She tries to lift her arms but she can’t. “It doesn’t matter. He’s got the keys. I’m not going anywhere.”

  I slice through the duct tape so she can at least stand up and move away from the chair.

  “I need to get you somewhere safe,” I whisper.

  Maria stays seated in the chair. “Safe? Where? There’s nowhere. We’re so dead.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “Shh. It’s OK. I understand now. I know what he’s done. I know what he did to you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know about the nano-virus inside you. I know.” She lowers her head. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “I know. But I don’t want you to die. And I don’t want to die. I didn’t want any of us to die.”

  “You’re not going to die. I’m going to get you out of here.”

  Again she shakes her head. “Stop. Just stop. We’re trapped in here. The doors are locked. We’re not going anywhere. You might as well be shackled with me.”

  I quickly scan the room. Maria is right. The main entrance is sealed shut. I can’t see any other exits. We are trapped. In a tomb.

  Sixteen minutes.

  “I’m sorry,” Maria says. “This was part of his plan. Me. You. The nano-virus. The cameras. I’m not even immune anymore. But it doesn’t matter. Not to him. He’s still going to kill me. Us. He keeps saying that people will remember us.”

  “He’s crazy,” I say. “You can’t listen to him. You can’t.”

  “I know. I tried not to listen to him. But I was all alone. All alone in the world. Just him. I couldn’t help but listen. And I know this sounds selfish, but I’m glad you’re here. I’m so glad. I didn’t want to die alone.”

  Again her head drops forward.

  “Maria?”

  Her eyes are closed.

  “Maria, wake up.”

  She’s out cold.

  I pick her up and drag her over to the first row of computers. I hide her under one of the work stations. I realize this is pathetic
. I realize that he is probably watching us. And that maybe the whole world is watching us. But this is how I’m going out. This is how I’m going to be remembered.

  I am going to save Maria.

  I am going to kill the man in the gas mask.

  I try and convince myself that I can do this. That I am strong. That I am a survivor. That I am a fighter. But suddenly the lights go out and the Control Room goes completely dark.

  The darkness presses against me and I am not strong enough. I am not ready for this. I am absolutely terrified.

  The red emergency lights come on a few seconds later.

  The cinematic screen comes back to life.

  The countdown has not missed a beat.

  Thirteen minutes.

  And sitting on the ground floor, kneeling in front of the huge cinematic screen, silhouetted by the glow of the screen, is the man in the gas mask.

  He just appeared. Like a ghost.

  The man in the gas mask.

  Doctor Tariq Sayid.

  Doctor Kumar Singh.

  Lucifer.

  The third member of the ‘holy trinity’.

  The puppet master.

  The creator of the Oz virus.

  The architect of the outbreak.

  He is kneeling in front of the massive cinematic screen with his back to me. He waves his hand at the screen and suddenly the screen is divided up into a thousand smaller screens. He waves his hand again, and these screens, these images, begin to slowly scroll through.

  He is controlling the images. He is controlling everything.

  Each screen is showing a different television channel from a different country.

  And they all show the same thing.

  The outbreak.

  The plague.

  The Oz virus spreading.

  The death toll rising.

  The infected.

  The images show terrified, innocent people.

  They show smoke plumes over major cities.

  Mass evacuations.

  The images show an extinction level event.

  An apocalypse.

  “Beautiful,” he whispers. “Is it not?”

  I grip the knife tight in my right hand. “No.”

  I walk up beside the man in the gas mask and he remains kneeling, looking up at the images of the apocalypse. Dark blood is pouring from where I stabbed him with the knife.

  “Allah Akbar,” he says. “God is great. But God is not listening. He has not been listening for a long time. We are on our own. Like the astronaut who flies off into space. He looks around but he does not see God. He sees a planet. A blue planet that is all alone. A planet that we all share. And he realizes that we are all in this together.”