Surviving Rage | Book 5

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Surviving Rage | Book 5 Page 32

by Arellano, J. D.


  He shook his head. “That’s right. I did,” he said, jabbing his chest with his thumb. “It was bullshit. I worked my ass off to get command. I did everything right. I got every qual they said I needed to get. I took every shitty assignment they asked me to take. I intentionally stayed single because I didn’t want any distractions. Shit, I missed my mother’s eightieth birthday because we had an inspection that day! I didn’t want anything to interfere with my career, you see? Nothing mattered more to me than having command.”

  Shaking his head again, he continued. “And then, it was taken away from me just like that,” he said, snapping his fingers. “No second chance, no opportunity to redeem myself, just, ‘thanks for trying, but we don’t want you anymore,’ as if I was a dog being dropped off at the shelter. Such bullshit.

  “I learned my lesson, though. The Army has lost its way. Too touchy-feely these days. Too much concern over how the public views it, instead of embracing the proper image it should have. The Army doesn’t need to be viewed as a friend of the people. It should be feared, not considered a buddy.

  “So I’m taking over this...whole thing. Two of the doctors are here, under my control, and by the end of the day I’ll have the other doctor and the girl. They’ll be working for me, day and night until they produce a vaccine.

  “Once that’s done, I’ll get the recognition I deserve. Everyone will have to show me the respect I deserve, from the Generals, and that -” pausing, he clenched his fist, closed his eyes, and gritted his teeth as he spit out, “ - fucking Admiral Tyll in charge of the other Protective Zones to the SecDef, all the way to the President.”

  “All of this just because you want some recognition?” Ferrell asked, as he was being pulled away.

  Walters laughed. “That’s funny, Sergeant. By the time I’m done, I’ll have more than just recognition. I’m gonna run this whole goddamn country. Do you think I’d just give it all up after what I’ve accomplished?” He shrugged. “First of all, they’d hang me for ‘treason,’” he said, using air quotes for the last word. “Second, I kind of like the sound of President Walters.”

  Sergeant Ferrell’s shock at his statement brought a smile to his face.

  “What? You don’t think I can become President? After I introduce the vaccine? Thanks to the lack of television and radio, the people largely view President Martinez as absent, hiding in her bunker or some other safe place while the virus ravages the country. I’ll introduce the vaccine and become their savior. I’ll run the distribution of it, all the while making sure only the common, every day civilians receive it, and make sure people know that their newfound safety is all thanks to me. Anyone in a position of authority who hasn’t already submitted to my new role will be denied the vaccine.

  He shrugged. “Follow me or die.”

  “The people will flock to me, knowing that I can offer safety and security, and, more importantly, recognizing me as the one who gave them hope for the future.

  “Why wouldn’t they want me as President?”

  Sergeant Ferrell said nothing in response, choosing instead to simply shake his head. Based on what Walters had said about following him, Ferrell knew even that was a risk, but he couldn’t help himself.

  For his part, Walters was unfazed by the response. Undeterred, he smiled as he watched the man get removed from the room.

  This is definitely going to be a great day.

  Once the others had left, Walters rose from his chair, walked over to the door, and closed it. Returning to his desk, he opened the bottom drawer, revealing a lock box. Pulling a set of keys from his pocket, he selected a key from the ring and used it to unlock the box. After opening it, he withdrew a laptop computer and set it on his desk. After booting the computer, he connected to the personal wifi router that he’d set up in his office, then logged on to his virtual private network. When the connection was established, he brought up his secure email server and began writing a new message, utilizing the computer’s sophisticated encryption algorithm.

  Judas,

  Doctors in house, being moved to the laboratory for full-time work. Just need girl and other doctor ASAP. Request you pass on rapid execution of extraction and delivery.

  Once your work there is done, get here ASAP. You deserve to be part of this.

  Safe travels.

  Your friend,

  S.W.

  He waited for the message to send, verified it left his personal server, then closed the laptop and returned it to the lock box. Leaning back in his chair, he brought his boots up, set one leg on the desk, then rested the other leg across it. Folding his hands in his lap, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

  Things were going well.

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  Oklahoma City Protective Zone, Oklahoma

  Day 5

  “Wow,” Andrew remarked, stepping back from the working area inside the large, brightly lit space. “This is not bad,” he said, nodding.

  Next to him, Lisa nodded in agreement. “Not bad at all.”

  The laboratory inside the main research area of the Oklahoma Medical Research Facility was impressive, both in sheer size and even more so in terms of the equipment contained within. As expected, there were the common items used for research and analysis, such as test tubes, beakers, burettes, petri dishes, micropipettes, microscopes, and centrifuges. But more importantly, there were the specialized pieces of equipment. First, there was a gel Electrophoresis apparatus, which would be used to analyze the motion of dispersed particles in a fluid (which would be used for DNA, RNA, and protein analysis. Next, there was a hematology analyzer, which they’d use to identify and count blood cells, along with everything needed for the doctors to conduct chromatography (the separation of constituents in mixtures, in this case, blood). Finally, it had everything they needed for performing enzyme-linked immunosorbent assay, commonly referred to as ELISA, in which antigens from a sample to be tested are attached to a surface and overlaid with a matching antibody so binding can occur. Once the binding occurred, unbound antibodies would be removed, then the enzyme’s substrate would be added in an effort to find a reaction between the substances.

  “Looks like Oklahoma City was the right choice,” Andrew said, smiling.

  Behind him, Major Cotton spoke up. “We’re glad you’re here, Doctor.”

  “Thanks…” Chang replied, as he wandered into the main part of the laboratory. Moving to one side, he noticed there were three racks of lab coats, each holding different sizes, which he assumed were for himself, Doctor Bowman, and Doctor Reed. The front wall of the room had a pair of large whiteboards mounted on the wall to either side of a glass door that led to a walk-in refrigeration unit for substances that required chilling, such as blood samples, samples of existing vaccines, cultures collected, etc.

  Four desks were centered in the room, each with a pair of massive 40-inch monitors atop and thick, tall CPU towers, which indicated the presence of significant processing capacity, visible underneath. In the far corner of the room a full size refrigerator stood next to a counter with a sink in the middle. On top of the counter a coffee maker and corresponding tray of creamers and sweeteners sat next to a basket of snacks. Across from it was a round table with four chairs. Overall, it was similar to the space they’d been using at Mount Weather, but larger.

  “Alright,” he said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them back and forth. “Let’s get set up.” Pulling off his backpack, he moved to the closest desk, then looked back at Lisa. “Any preference?” he asked.

  Lisa shook her head in response, staring toward a door in the middle of the wall to her left. “Where does that go?”

  “It’s just a bunk room,” Major Cotton replied, “in case you get tired and need a bit of rest.”

  “Oh…” Lisa said, nodding. Though she couldn’t put her finger on it, something felt ‘off.’ As she moved towards the desk across from the one Andrew chose, she told herself, ‘probably just still wound up from the trip.’ Shaking her
head, she sat down behind the desk and began taking her things out of her backpack.

  “Okay,” Cotton said, smiling, “I’ll let you all get settled in.” The men with him filed out of the laboratory. He turned to leave, then paused in the doorway and looked back. Pointing at a phone next to the door, he said, “If you need anything, just pick up the phone.”

  “Thanks,” Andrew replied, as he reached down to turn on his computer.

  At the desk next to him, Lisa was in the process of doing the same when she heard the door to the lab close behind Major Cotton with a heavy clunk. The sound made her stop. ‘What the?’ she asked herself. Not bothering to turn on her computer, she pushed back from her desk and stood up from her chair.

  “What’s wrong?” Andrew asked as he watched his computer boot up.

  “Just checking something,” she replied, as she moved around the edge of her desk. Walking over to the door, she reached out and tried the handle.

  It was locked.

  “What the hell?” she asked aloud.

  Hearing the urgency in the woman’s voice, Andrew stopped what he was doing and looked up. “What is it?”

  “The door’s locked.”

  “What?”

  “The door is locked,” she repeated, this time pronouncing each word emphatically. Grabbing the handle, she tugged on it as she looked through the wire mesh security glass of the door’s window. The door barely moved. Looking over to the windows that lined the length of the window that looked onto the hallway, she noticed that they also contained wire mesh.

  “It must be a mistake,” Andrew said, walking over. “Maybe we should call them and let them know they accidentally locked the door,” he suggested, pointing towards the phone.

  “Yeah, maybe…” she replied, her voice trailing off as she stepped away. “Why don’t you do that. I’m gonna check out this other door.”

  She heard him pick up the phone as she walked away, heading for the door in the wall.

  “Hello?” Andrew asked. “Yes, this is Doctor Chang. You accidentally locked the door when you left.”

  He paused, then added. “You’ll be back in a bit? Okay, great, thank you.”

  Another pause.

  “What’s that? Colonel Walters wants to talk with us? Alright, well, we’re here… Okay, thanks,” he finished, before hanging up the phone.

  Pausing with her hand on the doorknob, Lisa looked back at him.

  When their eyes met, he shook his head. “Something is not right.”

  Lisa turned the knob and opened the door. What she saw made her freeze.

  “Oh my God…” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she pushed the door all the way open.

  Two small twin beds sat across from each other, each against the walls on either side of the room. Beyond them, open curtains revealed another pair of twin beds. To her right, on the near side of the curtain, an open door revealed a small bathroom. Farther into the room, on the other side of the curtain, another open door led to a second bathroom.

  ‘The room is separated for men and women,’ she realized, as she slowly stepped into the room.

  Next to each bed was a small nightstand with a lamp, and against the wall that held the door she’d entered through, dressers stood to either side. Similarly, there were a pair or dressers against the far wall, bracketing a security glass window that looked out onto the parking lot.

  “What is this?” Andrew asked from beside her. She’d been so distracted, she hadn’t heard him approach.

  Lisa swallowed nervously before she spoke. Her mouth suddenly felt dry. “Nothing good,” she replied.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, turning his head to look at her.

  Turning her head towards him, her eyes met his. “It means that I don’t think that door being locked was an accident.

  She looked back towards the bunk room.

  “I think we’re prisoners.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  Oklahoma City Protective Zone, Oklahoma

  Day 5

  A dull thud came from the other room, distracting Lauren Cooper from the book she was reading on the couch of her residence hall room. Though she normally hated being bothered when she was reading, the distraction wasn’t all bad. Though she was positively loving the book she was reading (The Good Samaritan by John Marrs), sitting in the warmth of the mid-morning sun that streamed through the window had put her dangerously close to dozing off, which would have been bad, considering the fact that she needed to leave soon to take her daughter to wait in the food distribution line for their rations.

  “Ollie? You okay?” she called out absently, turning the page of her book and checking her watch.

  It was 10:53, and they needed to leave at 11:00 if they wanted to avoid being towards the back of the huge line that formed each day. Fortunately, the rations they received weren’t limited to lunch and dinner for that day; breakfast for the following day was included, which allowed people to avoid waking up at the crack of dawn to wait in line in the cold.

  And that was why she’d slept in, lazily waking up at eight forty-five, a dramatic difference from how she’d spent the last five years: waking up at six to have breakfast and coffee with Randall before he went off to work and she began getting ready to drive Olivia to school. Then it was back home to log onto the computer before eight so that she could provide logistics support remotely for a large DoD contractor. At 3 pm she’d put her laptop in its bag, then head back to the school to pick Olivia up and take her to soccer practice, where she’d log back on and continue working from the back (admittedly very comfortable) seat in her minivan, using the company-provided mobile hotspot for connectivity. From there it was back home, where she’d either pause work while she prepared dinner or listen to meetings as she did, depending on her schedule.

  By mid-week, she’d be exhausted, but it was okay. Though Randall made more than enough money for her to be a full-time, stay-at-home Mom, she wanted to work. She’d worked hard to earn her degree from Texas A&M and wasn’t about to let it go to waste. Working gave her a sense of pride, and she certainly didn’t mind the recognition from the others mothers who were quick to say ‘I don’t know how you do it,’ or ‘I couldn’t possibly do what you do.’

  Plus, her mother had always said, ‘Never be completely dependent on anyone. You don’t know when or if they’ll leave you.’

  For her mother, that meant Lauren’s father, who’d run off with ‘some floozy’ when Lauren was only nine.

  For Lauren, it meant Randall, who was killed in the early days of the outbreak, taken out by their landscaper, who’d slammed a pair of garden shears all the way through Randall’s chest on the front lawn of their home.

  Fortunately, Randall had insisted on keeping a shotgun near the front door of their home, and though Lauren had always been worried about Olivia’s curiosity, she’d been grateful it was there that day. One blast to the crazed landscaper’s chest, and he was thrown halfway down the front sidewalk, leaving a long red streak of blood along the way.

  “Olivia!” she called once more.

  Nothing.

  A slight shuffle came from the room, barely audible through the closed door.

  “Olivia, answer me, please,” Lauren said, exasperated. Was the girl really gonna make her get up and go in there? Maybe she broke something and was trying to hide it. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it most certainly wouldn’t be the last.

  But breaking something here, in what was essentially government housing, could be problematic. How would they replace something that had been damaged? Would they have to pay for it? If so, how?

  Sighing, she folded the top of the page in the book (something Randall hated; he’d always insisted they use bookmarks so that the books could be donated to the local library when they were done with them), and set it on the couch next to her. Swinging her legs around, she placed her feet on the floor, stood up, and enjoyed a long stretch.

  Maybe an afternoon nap would be in order�


  Walking across the small living area, she called out for her daughter once more.

  “Ollie! Come on, stop playing and answer me.”

  Opening the door to the girl’s room, she stepped inside the room and looked around. She didn’t see Olivia, but sure enough, there was a lamp on the floor, its base cracked. Glancing towards the sliding closet doors, she noticed one was partially open. ‘She’s probably hiding, and for good reason,” she thought.

  “Dang it, Ollie! This stuff isn’t ours,” she said, shaking her head. Feeling a slight draft, she looked towards the window. It was wide open, the drapes flapping inside.

  “And why is your window open so wide?” she asked, crossing the room. The rule was, if she got warm, she could open the window only as wide as possible with the piece of wood sitting in the track to keep it from being opened more. Being on the first floor, Lauren had been worried about security, so she insisted on keeping a wooden rod in the track of each window.

  The piece of wood was on the floor by the window.

  Shaking her head, she bent down and picked up the rod. A bent metal coat hanger was near it on the floor.

  What the heck?

  “Ollie? What have you been doing?”

  Still nothing from the girl.

  “That’s it!” Lauren said, raising her voice. “No more messing around!” she demanded, as she strode towards the closet. “Now get out of there right this instant!” she ordered, sliding the door open wide.

  A tall, wide-shouldered, muscular figure stood inside the closet, holding her daughter in his arms, covering her mouth with one of his hands. Dark, angry eyes stared back at Lauren through the openings on the ski mask.

  Before she could react, a fist lashed out, catching her between the eyes. Her eyes fluttered as her head rocked backward as dizziness flooded her senses.

 

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