“But the more I justified it in my head, the more wrong it felt. Sending Ashby’s heir out into the wilderness without any training at all. Did you know every hundred years or so, a scout was trained to go to the mainland? They’d spend their whole lives training on survival, how to maneuver a canoe, and how to navigate.
“But Ashley—the heir to this island’s creator—we just cast her to the wind. It seemed like a tremendous injustice.”
He chanced a glance at Mason. His mouth was clamped tightly shut, his lips making a fine line.
“But I knew it was for the good of the island. If you came back with news, it would be the end of our way of life as we knew it. That’s all Ashley ever wanted anyway.”
They walked in silence for a few more paces until Mattli stopped and turned toward Mason. “This pursuit of the mainland is what she would’ve wanted. And although she would be saddened by our most recent sacrifice, she would carry on.”
Mason frowned, but he eventually nodded. “You’re right. I know you’re right. I just, I didn’t think if someone died, it would be one of the fishermen.”
“I know.” Mattli nodded fervently. “I thought it would be one of yours to be honest.”
“Thanks a lot, man.”
“Working with electricity is a lot more risky than building boats, Mason. You must admit.”
“We don’t have electricity yet,” Mason pointed out.
“You will. Soon.”
20.
May, 2025
Once they were in Hollywood, they quickly went to the site. But Ashby didn’t have his laptop or anything to help him understand the code. So Mendi went and got one from a nurse’s station, and they set to work.
They toiled for hours in the containment room, which was absolute torture. It was a small space, barely big enough for two men. It had no windows and was lined with dark black metal, making the room feel smaller and darker. A single recessed light illuminated the space, and a vent in the ceiling kept the air fresh. That was it. There was nowhere to put the computer as they worked, so Ashby sat on the floor Indian-style while he directed Mendi what to do, which wire to secure next, and what connection to check and double-check.
But nothing seemed amiss. There was no sign of the mystery code he’d found at the meltdown sites. As if whoever had put it there hadn’t made their way to that particular site, yet. After six hours of searching, they sat back facing each other, leaning against the black walls, their knees overlapping in the small space.
Ashby rested his head against the material that was supposed to protect the human race from his creation.
“Maybe it’s an anomaly,” Mendi said.
“After three instances?”
“It’s a stretch.”
“Maybe this site is the anomaly,” Ashby said, fearing the worst.
“Was there anything left of the containment sites at the other hospitals? Can we go there and see what the issue was?”
Ashby looked at Mendi, trying to think. “I think there was. I haven’t been over there to be honest. That PR woman recommended I stay away.” Jen had been calling and texting all day, but he was busy trying to save the damned world. He couldn’t deal with a PR problem at that point.
“I think it would be good to take a look,” Mendi said.
“Agreed.” Ashby typed in a quick search to Google, and then plotted their course. “It’s around sixteen hours to CSMC from here. If we leave now and stop tonight for a few hours, we could be there by tomorrow night. Get to work straight away on Wednesday.”
“Let’s go,” Mendi said.
Ashby texted Ashley quickly, to make sure she’d gone to the island as instructed, and then followed up with Hope, who put him off. He hoped she wouldn’t keep doing that for long. Ashley assured him she was safe and enjoying the sun. She asked when he would be there.
Soon, was all he could say at that moment. He hoped he would get there at all.
The drive to CSMC was quiet. They couldn’t talk about their personal lives anymore. Ashby didn’t want to know, nor did he have much to tell.
About four hours outside of their destination, a rather disturbing report came over the radio.
“An incident similar to those at CSMC and Shands is playing out at Northwestern in Chicago as we speak. Authorities are struggling to gain control of the situation, as the first electromagnetic pulse didn’t prove to be one-hundred-percent effective,” the male reporter stated.
“How can that be?” Mendi asked.
“I have no idea. Maybe too many of the bots got out of range? Or the EMP wasn’t strong enough? Northwestern had a lot of bots. Not as many as Shands, but still. A lot.”
Ashby pulled the car over. “What should we do?”
Mendi stared at his friend. “What do you mean? Chicago is a long way away. Days. By the time we could get there, it will be settled. I think we should stay the course. We’re hours from CSMC. Let’s get there and get to work. If we can find an anomaly, maybe we can prevent the next one.”
But, as the hours went by, they remained glued to the radio as the situation escalated. For some reason, the authorities couldn’t get ahead of the bots this time. People were dying left, right, and center, but not only that, the power had gone out at the hospital. Once the bodies were consumed, the bots moved on. It wasn’t a good sign.
“They need to get the bots under control before it escalates further,” Ashby said.
“You don’t have to tell me. Is there someone you can call?”
“No. But the right people know what to do, and it’s probably already done. If you ask me, they should start deploying the airships, if they’re even done building them by now.”
“How long ago was your meeting?” Mendi asked.
“A few months, I guess.” It seemed like a lifetime ago. A lifetime since the shit hit the fan, and even longer since things were normal, and he was nothing but a poor scientist trying to make a miraculous discovery. Now, the discovery seemed more like a curse than a miracle.
“That’s not enough time.”
“Maybe. You don’t know the military. They’ll get it done. The rest of the world, I’m not so sure about.” It was just a general feeling he had after his meeting, and nothing more, but it gave Ashby hope.
They tried to ignore the declining news as they pulled into CSMC, but it was no use. The containment room was marked off with yellow DO NOT CROSS tape. But, once they’d shown who they were, they were given full access to the room.
All doors were opened, and no bots remained inside.
“If I could just get a history on the programming and see what happened, maybe I could see the mystery code in action.” Ashby mumbled as he tried to get to work.
But he kept one ear on the radio, making it difficult to concentrate.
There hadn’t been any record of any kind of code in months, not since the initial incident, of course. The program had been eliminated after that, and the hospital had been on a skeleton crew for weeks afterwards, while they tried to make sure the area was indeed secure. Ashby tried to tell them it was, particularly after deploying the EMP. He had no idea where the bots were, but they would be useless, so it didn’t much matter. People were scared though. They’d been attacked rather suddenly, so they took a cautious approach, and Ashby supposed he couldn’t blame them for that. Frankly, he was surprised the containment room hadn’t been disassembled completely. He hadn’t had time to ask about it, and he imagined they hadn’t had time to deal with it.
After over an hour of searching, he finally found some data that he could work with. A log of the last day. Just as he was opening it, the announcer on the radio said something that made his heart stop.
“Chicago has gone dark. Citizens are being told to go. No specifics are being given—just for everyone to get out. Go anywhere but there if you want to survive. It’s a bad situation down there.”
“Oh my God,” Mendi said.
Ashby didn’t respond. He swallowed hard and called Ashl
ey.
“Hey, Dad. What’s up?” she said cheerfully.
“Are you watching the news?”
“No, why?”
“Chicago has gone dark, because of the bots. They’re eating the city alive.”
“What?” she asked, a little bewildered. Ashby didn’t know how much she’d kept up with the news, and even if she had, they’d blamed everything but the bots, so he knew she wouldn’t make the connection.
“Ashley, listen carefully. Stay on the island. You will be safe there.”
“Mom. What about Mom?” she said, slightly panicked.
He hesitated. She’d betrayed him. But did that mean she deserved to die? No. “Call your mom. Tell her to join you. Bring what she can. You might be there for a while.”
“Okay, Dad. Thanks. When are you coming?”
“I don’t know. Soon, I hope. I’m trying to stop this before it can go any further. Then you girls can go home and move on.” He felt like the more times he said it out loud, the more it had to come true.
“Okay, Dad. Call me soon.” She sounded clearly concerned about him. He imagined her clinging to the phone, standing on their porch with the sound of the crashing waves in the background. He let out a breath. No matter what, she would be safe.
When he hung up, he called Hope next.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“At CSMC. Where are you?”
“Going to get my family. Then we’re heading to the island,” she answered, much to Ashby’s relief.
“Okay, you have the address, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll send you Ashley’s contact information. She’s already there. I don’t want you to surprise her.”
“Mr. Ashby, did you know this would happen?” He could hear the fear in every tiny quiver of her voice.
“I hoped it wouldn’t.”
“I mean to this extreme? Did you know a city could go dark because of the C-bots?” she persisted, like saying no would put her completely at ease. Somehow, him not knowing this could happen would make it an impossibility. Something that wouldn’t spread. That couldn’t spread.
“It wasn’t a realistic concern, or at least I hoped it wasn’t,” he said, and she remained silent.
“Just get to the island,” he said, and she hung up. He hoped she could get there in time.
Henry Ford hospital was next. They didn’t make any progress on discovering the error. They were glued to the radio, listening to the chaos as it unfolded. But, just as suddenly as the first, the scenario started playing out just a few hundred miles away.
It was as if the bots were communicating with each other. It seemed the bots from Chicago joined those in Detroit and leveled that city to nothing in a matter of days.
“This isn’t right. There shouldn’t be enough of them to accomplish this much damage,” Mendi said.
Ashby glanced at his laptop, still open and untouched. And he noticed a code he hadn’t seen before. He had no idea if it was new, or if he just hadn’t seen it. It followed after some instruction about consuming metals. It was supposed to be turned off in bots the hospitals had, but it appeared to have been activated.
Ashby’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the screen. “Copy?” The code defiantly sat in the middle of his beautiful program.
{Copied.execCommand(“Copy”)}
“What the…” Ashby’s heart raced as he realized what was happening, and he glanced up at the screen.
Arial footage of Detroit was devastating. Nothing but a grey wasteland starting at the hospital and working out in a circle toward civilization. But the outskirts of the circle had already been evacuated, and Ashby knew the homes and buildings would be destroyed soon.
“They’re self-replicating. It’s only a matter of time,” Ashby breathed as they watched the television in the waiting room of the hospital. They’d forgotten all about finding the clue that might help them stop it. They were like deer in the headlights as the horrors playing out blinded them to their salvation.
21.
Approximate year, 2346
It only took another week for Mattli’s team to get the windmill together. Their breakthrough came just at the right time. Mason’s team was chomping at the bit to get started. They were tired of working on prototypes and wanted to get to work actually applying their hypothesis.
Mattli couldn’t get over how ingenious their development was, and it all boiled down to hinges—hinges that didn’t all face the same direction. They’d tried that, and as soon as a stiff wind came along, the thing collapsed in on itself.
One last problem remained. It was too large to fit in the dead room.
“Are you sure we can’t test it above ground?” Mattli asked for the umpteenth time.
“No. It needs to be in the dead room.”
“Why?” Mattli persisted, although he already knew the answer.
“Because we need to test it down there. In case something goes wrong. That way, the bots will be contained.”
“I…” Mattli clearly hadn’t thought that far ahead. “How exactly do you intend to test the device, Mason?” he asked, completely skeptical of the suggestion.
“Well, I guess I haven’t thought too much about it, but I’ll probably do something like I did when we opened the journal—just go in there, have them open the box, and turn on the EMP. Or maybe in a different order, but you get the gist.”
“I don’t think that’s your best idea.”
“Maybe not,” Mason agreed. “But I won’t send someone else in to do the most dangerous part.”
Mattli nodded, as if he knew he wouldn’t win the argument. Mason hoped he’d let it go.
But he didn’t. “Mason. It can’t be you. You’re the future of this island. Going to the mainland is your baby. Let someone else do it, if that’s how you feel it needs to be.”
“No. I won’t send someone else to the slaughter. The future of this island doesn’t rest solely on my shoulders. At least, it better not. If something catastrophic happens, you and Lehman can carry on.”
“I’m an old man, Mason.”
“True enough. But Lehman isn’t. Everything will be okay. This island has taught us nothing, if not the fact that life goes on, with or without us.”
Mattli was silent, his mouth a thin line.
Mason shrugged. “We’re still a good bit away from testing it anyway.” He clapped a hand on the old man’s shoulder. “These are worries for another day.”
First, they had to get the power into the dead room.
Because the dead room was in the middle of the woods, where a strong wind would be hard to catch, they charged up their makeshift battery in the field before disconnecting it and carrying it down. The battery was small and wouldn’t hold much energy, but Mason was hopeful that, if it worked, they could make more of them before they left.
Now, the hard part—actually connecting their prototype to the power source and seeing if it would work.
They ran into more than a few problems at first. The connections weren’t exactly what they expected, and they had to rework the prototype to accept power from the makeshift battery. By the time they did that, they’d drained the damned thing and had to carry it back up to charge. Mason could only hope the EMP wouldn’t drain that much energy, and they’d get to definitively see if it worked or not before the damned battery died.
After over a week of fiddling, and trial and error, it was time for the first test—seeing if the device would at least turn on. If that worked, Mason would have to worry about testing it out on the bots. But that was a problem for another day. Today, they just wanted to see their EMP accept power from Mattli’s battery.
“Are you ready?” Gabe asked.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Gabe held two wires out, ready to make the last connection to the device. “Dear Ashby, let this work.”
“I didn’t think you were much of a religious man, Gabe,” Mason said, half smiling.
“I’m no
t. I just thought a little extra—” But his words cut off abruptly. His body shook violently as he held the two connections to the device.
“What’s happening?” Mason asked, jumping up and going to Gabe.
“Don’t touch him,” Mattli shouted, grabbing a long piece of wood left propped against a wall from their deconstruction, and construction.
Carefully, he pried Gabe away from the EMP. Smoke was rising from the device by that point, and the dead room filled with the scent of burned flesh.
Once Gabe was lying flat, Mason fell to his knees near his head. Gabe’s eyes were open. His skin was red and warm to the touch, but he wasn’t breathing.
“He’s not breathing,” Mason cried. He started CPR on him, but the others just stood by watching.
“Someone, help me.”
“Mason,” Mattli said quietly.
“What? Why are you just standing there?”
“He’s gone.”
“How can that be? What happened?”
“He was electrocuted. A surge of energy passed from the battery through him and into the EMP. It must have passed over his heart,” Mattli said.
“How do you know that? He could be just fine. You’re not a doctor,” Mason accused as he pounded Gabe’s chest. “He has a family.”
“Yes. So did the man who drowned a couple of weeks ago.”
Mason winced. Now two men had been lost to their cause. Two families shattered by his dreams.
“I can’t,” Mason said simply and walked out.
He didn’t know if Mattli followed him. He didn’t look back. He walked the other way down the path, away from the town and deeper into the woods. He walked into the formerly restricted area, where Ashley had found the canoes so long ago, and then kept walking. The cold bit at his fingers and nose, but he kept going. Beyond the restricted area, the woods closed in, making his walk harder. He ignored the pain in his side as he stomped through the brush until he finally made it to the end of the island.
The Dead World (The Dead Room Trilogy Book 2) Page 14