The Dying of the Light (Book 1): End

by Jason Kristopher

  This time there were shots of Eric and Michael being compared. Once again, they were almost identical.

  “This one was only an 89% match, but you can take it from there.”

  “No wonder. No fucking wonder,” Kim said. “His fiancée and son — both dead — might as well have come back to life. That would be enough to send anyone over the edge.”

  “Normally, I would agree with you. But given his psych eval and his interviews, I believe David has a much stronger psyche than the average person. I don’t think that was all it took. I believe he is, or at least was, practical and level-headed enough to deal with even that.”

  “If that’s the case, then why…”

  Mary shook her head. “I don’t know. Something must’ve happened to add to his existing trauma, something we don’t know about. Judging from the overall strength of his psyche, I’d have to say it happened fairly recently and was pretty major. Otherwise he would’ve had time to fully assimilate whatever it was.”

  Kim sighed. “We need him, Mary. I need him.”

  Mary laid her hand on Kim’s arm. “I know you do. I think he can come back from this, but until we know he’s okay — or going to be — I think we should keep him sedated and resting here.”

  Kim wiped a nascent tear from her eye and smiled at Mary. “I think that’s a good idea,” she said, looking over at him. She sighed and closed her eyes. “I have to brief the colonel.”

  Mary shook her head. “I don’t think…”

  “No, I have to, Mary. Maybe not everything, but he needs to know what’s going on, at least generally. He may even know what it was that sent David over the edge like this.”

  Mary nodded slowly. “Alright. I’ll let you know of any changes in his condition, and I would suggest that you keep visiting him. It seems to help a great deal in these kinds of cases.” She paused as Kim stood to leave. “And Kim… you know I’m always here to talk if you need me, right?”

  Kim smiled again and gave the doctor a hug. “I know. Thanks, Mary.”

  Mary looked over at David as Kim walked out the door. What’s going on in there? she wondered. Come back to us, my friend. He remained silent and still, and Mary sighed, tending to her other duties.

  “So that’s it, sir. Neither of us knows what the proverbial final straw was, but it must’ve been big.” Kim sat in Maxwell’s office, a large cup of coffee in her hand as she looked across the desk at the man who was, for all intents and purposes, her father.

  “Holy shit,” said Anderson, perched on the edge of the colonel’s desk. “No wonder he reacted like that. Hell George, even you or I would’ve had a similar reaction.”

  Maxwell grunted and continued looking out his office window. Barnes and Anderson glanced at each other when no other comment seemed to be forthcoming. Just as Anderson was about to break the awkward silence, the colonel spoke.

  “How long?”

  “Sir?” asked Kim, setting down her coffee.

  The colonel turned away from his view of the Rockies out the window and fixed the major with a questioning look. “How long has he been acting out-of-character, major?”

  Kim thought. “It was before Laramie, sir. Not long, though… maybe a few days. Whatever it was it happened before the briefing, sir.”

  Maxwell grunted, remembering Blake’s antics during the uproar. “Frank, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  Kim looked to the commander, who grimaced.

  “I hope not, sir. I hope not,” he said. “We’re not really ready to deal with all that, yet.”

  “Ready or not… we may not have much choice. Start making the calls, Frank. Get them prepared.”

  Anderson stood to attention next to the colonel’s desk and saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  As he left, Kim looked back at Maxwell in confusion. “Calls, sir?”

  Maxwell sighed as he rubbed a hand across the stubble on his scalp. “Too many years, major. Too many memories.” His expression hardened, and Kim forced herself not to sit back in her chair and straighten out of sheer reflex. “Too many friends and comrades left on the field. It has to end.” Kim sat still, not wanting to draw out the anger she saw on her adopted father’s face. “Dismissed, major.”

  Kim stood, saluted and turned to leave. As the door opened, Maxwell spoke, and she turned to see him looking at her in a way she would call kindly if it were any other man.

  “We’ll figure it out, Kim. I’ll get him back to you. I promise.”

  She nodded and strode out the door. I believe him; God help the poor fool who gets in his way.

  Cheyenne, Wyoming

  Jason swore and threw the wireless keyboard down on his desk, spinning out of his chair to pace the well-worn carpet. Given his basement apartment’s dimensions, he was barely able to get in three strides before having to turn again, but it served to calm his nerves… usually.

  Nothing! I can’t believe there’s nothing about these assholes anywhere! It’s like they don’t exist. Though that shouldn’t really surprise me.

  He sighed and flopped down in the chair once more. More than thirty-six hours he’d spent sitting there, searching for some sign of this mystery military unit that had showed up out of nowhere in Wyoming. Twice. Thirty-six hours, and he had nothing to show for it, except some vague pictures of guys in camouflage taking bodies out of a hospital, and no more idea who they were than before. He’d used every bit of his illicit skill in computers to try and track down even the smallest shred of information, and ended up with nothing.

  He cursed and opened a desk drawer, taking a cell phone out of its pristine packaging and turning it on. Keying in a number from memory, he waited a few seconds until he heard a click from the other end, and then silence.

  “It’s Jason. I need to see you. I’ll be there in an hour.” He waited for some response, but when the silence continued, he closed the phone and stood, grabbing his car keys on the way out of the apartment. He locked the front door and flipped the phone into the garbage truck that was collecting out front as he walked past. He heard the satisfying crunch of the phone’s destruction as he climbed into his beat-up Jeep Wrangler.

  Trace that, ya bastards, he thought as he pulled out into the street.

  The agents in the car across the street glanced at each other, and the driver started the car. “Watchdog to Base. Target is on the move.”

  “Roger, Watchdog. Apprehend the target and return to base. Quietly.”

  Fort Carson, Colorado

  “I’d suggest you leave right now, cabrón.”

  “Fuck you, Martinez. Stay out of this. I got no beef with you.”

  “You got a beef with mi hermano, you got a beef with me, pendejo.”

  “Then tell him to stop swaggering around here like some damned puffed-up, glory-hole wannabe.”

  “Angelo, let this go, he’s not worth it.”

  “Fuck that. This asshole thinks he can pull this shit and get away with it.”

  “He didn’t do anything; he’s all talk, man. Just let it go.”

  “Maybe I should give him a reminder?”

  “You think you can, you little wetback? Bring it!” There was the sound of a scuffle.

  And that’s my cue, thought Anderson. He walked around the corner and pretended not to notice as Ames and Martinez let go of each other’s ACU and backed away. Reynolds, as cool as ever, just leaned back against the barracks wall.

  “What the shit is this?” Anderson said, folding his arms and giving the men the evil eye he’d perfected in the SEALs. “Ten-hut!”

  All three snapped to attention, saluting.

  “Now which one of you ladies wants to tell me just what in the bloody blue fuck was going on here?” When this elicited no response from any of them, Anderson shook his head. “Just what I expected.”

  He stepped in front of Martinez, so close he could smell what the man had for lunch. Pizza would be my guess.

  “Captain? Nothing?”

  “Just a friendly discussion, sir.�
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  “Bullshit. You don’t think I know what bullshit smells like, soldier? I know exactly what it smells like, and I know when I’m being fed a line of it for dinner.” He glared at Ames.

  “And you! Petty Officer Second Class Ames himself. A Navy man. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “As the captain said, sir. Just a friendly discussion.”

  “Mr. Reynolds, I imagine you’ll give me the same bullshit line, won’t you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I thought so.” Anderson turned and paced away a step, then came back. “You know, I do believe the latrines in these barracks haven’t been cleaned properly in some time. You will now take care of that oversight. Requisition toothbrushes from the PX; you’ll need to make sure and get them spotless.”

  None of the men moved. “Did I stutter?” yelled Anderson. “Perhaps you’re hard of hearing! Clean those fucking latrines! Now!” As the men started to move off, Anderson grabbed Ames by one arm. “Not you.”

  Ames stopped where he was, watching Martinez and Reynolds run off.

  “I have just about had it with you, Ames.”

  “Sir?”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Enough with the bullshit; I’ve had my daily quota. I don’t know why you have such a problem with Reynolds, and I really don’t give a shit.” Anderson leaned forward, staring Ames straight in the eye. “If I could, I’d follow through on our discussion from the last time. You remember, right? Chauncey’s been looking a bit hungry.”

  Ames paled.

  “Except that we can’t spare your gun from the line now. So here’s what you’ll do. You will cease this crap immediately. If I hear even one more word, one more idea of a thought of a plan of a word, you will be off this base faster than I can spit. And it won’t be to some nice cushy post like Greenland. I will send you somewhere truly horrible. Or maybe you can stay on base, and I’ll have you reassigned to the Test Subject Pen over in Gardner’s section.”

  Anderson stepped back. “That’s if the others in your team don’t tear you apart first, of course. Because they will know exactly what you’ve done here, and I can’t imagine they’ll be pleased. Now off you go. That latrine isn’t gonna clean itself.” Walking off, Anderson soon disappeared, and Ames was left to make the walk to the PX for his toothbrush.

  He’s on the list now, Ames thought. That shithead and Reynolds will both get what’s coming to em. Shit, Anderson’s probably as gay as the day is long, too. Probably gay for each other, those two. Fuckers!

  Had anyone seen it, the smile on his face would’ve been reason alone to run for the hills.

  “The list is growing, colonel. We have confirmed cases in twenty-seven states now. Most of them are small outbreaks — Class 1 at best. Our field agents can take care of those without your teams getting involved. But we’re also seeing more and more Class Two situations, and this has the Pentagon and the president worried. Greatly worried.”

  Gardener sat relaxed in the chair across from Maxwell’s desk. A certain sense of superiority emanated from the man in waves, and from the way he looked around the room. The colonel guessed Gardner was sizing it up for its next occupant — himself.

  Over my dead body, he thought. Of course, that may not be very far from the truth, given what’s coming. With a mental snort, he turned his attention back to the man across the desk.

  “What’s your point, Mr. Gardner?”

  “My point, colonel?”

  “Yes, your point. I’m not sure what more we can do. I’ve got four teams of men and women fighting to save every life they can, knowing that at any moment, they could be called on to kill one of their own from something as insignificant as a bit of saliva.” Gardner sat more upright at the steel in the colonel’s tone. “I’ve got another six teams working up right now, and who knows how many of them will be dead in a month. That’s 120 men and women, ready to fight and die for a losing cause, Mister Gardner.

  “These same men and women fly all over the country, fighting monsters straight out of every horror movie you’ve ever seen. Things that shouldn’t exist, but somehow do. And they don’t just do it once, they do it over and over and over again. To protect you. To protect me. To try and save as many of the rest of us as we can.” The colonel sat back in his chair, looking at Gardner. “Now, tell me just what more you think I can do.”

  “Ah, yes… well…” Gardner stammered under the full force of Maxwell’s glare. “I’m certain you’re doing all you can, but surely there are some ways to increase efficiency while at the same time providing greater research capabilities and…” He broke off when he saw the look on the colonel’s face.

  “I understand that the little fiasco with our last research orders caused some problems…”

  His voice was icy calm, collected and toneless as Maxwell spoke. “Some problems, Mr. Gardner?”

  “I have it on good authority that it was, in fact, Mr. Blake’s idea to curtail the specimen-capture order, and that he convinced Commander Anderson to issue the rescission order for the capture protocol.” Gardner felt he was on more solid ground here, so he decided to press the advantage. “Indeed, it seems now that Mr. Blake’s mental condition is highly erratic, and therefore I’ve been ordered to remove him and see that he gets the best… care… possible…” Gardner trailed off as he realized the colonel had gone completely silent. “Colonel?”

  Only more years of military discipline than he’d care to count kept Maxwell in his seat at the realization that had come with Gardner’s news. That’s what he’s been after all along, he thought. Gardner wants Blake for some reason. Who knows why, but I’ll be damned if I’ll sign him over to this… this… demon.

  “We’re done here, Mr. Gardner,” he said, standing.

  Gardner was far too practiced a bureaucrat to show any sign that he was flustered. He stood smoothly, buttoning his jacket. “I see. Well then, please have Mr. Blake available for transport to Washington as soon as possible.”

  “Mr. Blake is in no condition to travel at the moment, Mr. Gardner. I will see to it that you are informed the moment that changes.”

  Both the men knew exactly what was happening. Still, perception was everything.

  “Very well, colonel. Good evening.”

  “Good evening, Mr. Gardner.”

  The colonel’s assistant poked her head in the office. “Need me for anything more tonight, sir?”

  “Yes, Nancy. One more thing, on your way out. Tell Frank that I’d like him to join me for my run in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir. Good night, sir.”

  Maxwell sat back at his desk, gazing out the window at the Colorado sunset. Got you now, you bastard.

  “Hello, I’m Tabitha Greene, and this is a HealthWatch Special Report. We now have over 50 cases of a new flu outbreak confirmed in several states,” said the news anchor. “I’m joined today by Dr. Alicia Givens from the Emergency Operations Center at the CDC. Thank you for being with us today, Dr. Givens.”

  “Thank you for having me.”

  “So doctor, what can you tell us about this latest bug? And most importantly, should we be worried?”

  “Well, I can tell you this; it’s not the epidemic that some are calling it. 50 cases nation-wide is a concern, obviously, but at the same time, it’s still a vanishingly small percentage of the population. We don’t need to be running for the gas masks and bunkers just yet,” she said with a smile, earning one in return from the news anchor.

  “What people should take away from this is the same thing they should do whenever anyone is sick with a serious illness. In this case, however, there is a certain amount of special care that needs to be taken to ensure that the illness can be contained as quickly as possible. What we’re urging everyone to do if they believe they know someone who may have contracted this illness is to call the 800-number that’s on your screen now. We have been working closely with local health officials to make sure that correct procedures are followed.”

>   “So why should they call an 800-number instead of taking the infected straight to the hospital?”

  “We’ve been able to determine that this particular strain is extremely infectious, for one thing. Also, it can cause abnormal, and yes, sometimes violent behavior in those afflicted. We’ve got special teams set up in various areas of the country, ready to take on these cases, but we want to keep the rest of the person’s family or friends from coming down with it, too.” Dr. Givens looked straight at the camera.

  “I cannot stress this point enough: you must isolate the infected person immediately, and then call the 800-number. Someone from your area will collect them for transport to a local health facility that is equipped to handle such cases. Do not ignore these signs. This is a very serious illness and can quickly spread.“