The Dying of the Light (Book 1): End

by Jason Kristopher

  “It’s time, Frank. Send the activation. Make it 1000 hours tomorrow.” Maxwell’s voice was cold and hard, as hard as Anderson had ever heard it. “All of them, Frank. No mistakes. And don’t miss your flight.”

  “Yes, sir. No, sir.” Anderson stood, saluted, and left, leaving the door open.

  “Nancy, get me Barnes,” Maxwell yelled. “And then the president.”

  “The tests exceeded even our wildest expectations, sir. The subject turned in less than one minute, with only being exposed to one bite.” The technician sat with a clipboard on his lap, his face devoid of expression. “Unfortunately, the delivery specimen was destroyed during the experiment, but I am confident that we can replicate it if needed.”

  “Good work, Hodges,” said Gardner, leaning back in his chair. “Good work, indeed. I’d like to see if we can…”

  He was interrupted by the thick wooden door of his well-furnished office slamming open, cracking back against the wall and leaving deep holes in the plaster as Maxwell stormed in and stood glaring at the technician.

  Gardner sighed, and waved one hand at the poor lab tech. “You may go, Hodges.”

  Hodges stood and bolted from the room, his expressionless demeanor now replaced by one of fear.

  Hardly unexpected, thought Gardner. Not with a Neanderthal like Maxwell looming over him.

  “Have a seat, general,” he said, putting as much loathing into that single word as he could. “I’ll make sure and have my secretary invoice you for the repairs to the door and the wall.”

  Maxwell sat down, a cold, almost predatory smile on his face as he looked at Gardner.

  “Henry, that’s not something you’re ever going to have to worry about again.”

  It wasn’t so much what Maxwell said, as the cold, toneless way in which he said it, that gave Gardner the chill that went up his back. Something’s up… but what?

  “You fucked up, Henry. But good, this time. Really put your ass in a sling with this one, boy.”

  Gardner was seething, but it wouldn’t do to let Maxwell know that. “Why, whatever do you mean, general?”

  “I’m talking about your little unauthorized experiment with my team yesterday, Henry.”

  “I’m still not following you.”

  “That acclimatization exercise that you set up? The one where I lost two of my men? The one that ended with three walkers dead and a helluva mess for the cleanup crews. That one.”

  “Ah, yes. I did hear about an accident in one of the testing areas yesterday. I haven’t had time to look at the full report yet, but from what I understand, one of our technicians got a little careless. He’s been disciplined by his supervisor and is no longer employed here.”

  “Carelessness? That’s really what you’re going with?” Maxwell shook his head. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “I will, of course, order my people to investigate the matter more fully, and we will work with your team more closely in the future to see that this sort of thing doesn’t happen again.”

  “Of course you will, of course. I’m not sure that will be necessary anymore, though.” He smiled that cold, calculating smile once more. “’Cause I wanted to let you in on a secret of my own.”

  Maxwell stood up, leaning over the desk, his face inches from Gardner’s. Henry couldn’t help but flinch back, and hated himself for it. He stood — or rather, sat — his ground, meeting the general’s glare.

  “Oh? And what’s that, exactly?”

  “I. Know. Everything,” Maxwell said, punctuating each word with a thump of his finger on the desk.

  Gardner went cold and dead calm. Careful now, Hank, old buddy. He can’t possibly know everything. Keep him talking to find out, so you can plug the leaks later.

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re referring to, general.”

  “Maybe,” said Maxwell, taking a seat again in the chair, but not before pulling a sheaf of paperwork from a pocket. “And maybe not.”

  Maxwell threw the packet of paper at Gardner, striking him square in the face as the papers fluttered to the top of the desk.

  Invoices for shipments, contents marked “Biohazard — Do not open.” Photos of walker samples being loaded onto trucks and even a train, in one case, marked ”Destination: unknown.” A series of recent photos from one of the “patient care centers” Gardner had set up, showing a technician deliberately gassing a patient who was still conscious, then restraining him against the inevitable turning. Transcripts of his calls to North Korea.

  Maxwell stood and snapped his fingers, and Masters entered the room, a portable DVD player in one hand. He stood at attention.

  “I even know about those two you abducted because they got too close. The reporter and the kid.” Maxwell looked over at Masters. “What were their names?”

  “Doris Poole and Jason Horner, sir.”

  “That’s them. Granted, that reporter was a pain in the ass, but she didn’t deserve what you did to her. No one deserves to be experimented on like that, Henry. Not even you.” He paused, and tapped the desktop again. “But that’s not all. I told you, I know everything. Go ahead, Masters. Show him,” Maxwell said.

  The soldier opened the DVD player, spinning it around on the desk to face Gardner as it started playing. On the screen, an hallway appeared, a door at one end with a lone guard outside.

  “Thank you, Masters. Wait here.”

  “Sir!” Masters saluted and stood to one side. Gardner didn’t notice, his gaze fixed on the screen, where he was walking down a hallway with the now-dead Brett Williams, clearly and unmistakably throwing him into the Test Subject Pen with his own hands.

  You could just make out the claws reaching out before the door slammed shut, and the video ended.

  Gardner took an instant to compose himself, and then looked up at Maxwell.

  “What is this? Some sort of hoax? Clearly, that video has been edited.”

  “Oh, come off it, Gardner. You know exactly what that is. Two of your own guards saw you in that hallway with Williams. One of them saw you just before he went off-shift.” Maxwell grinned again. “Except that guard wasn’t yours at all, Henry. He was mine.”

  “He’s lying. They both are.”

  He really does know everything, except…

  It was Maxwell’s turn to blink as Gardner stood suddenly, buttoning his suit jacket and smiling an even grimmer smile. “I think you’ll find that none of this matters, general. Even if you did somehow have the balls to arrest me, you couldn’t make it stick. You see, my orders come from the Secretary of Defense himself, who takes his orders from the president, who is fully aware of what goes on here.” Gardner motioned to the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting.”

  “Not anymore, you don’t. That’s what I’ve really come to tell you, Henry.” Maxwell grinned. “You’re fired.”

  Gardner smiled back. “You can’t fire me, you ridiculous old goat.”

  “Sam?” Maxwell raised his voice as he looked at his watch. “I think it’s about time. Put through SecDef’s office, will you? They should be calling any…” Gardner’s desk phone rang, and when he made no move to answer it, Maxwell leaned over and punched the Speaker button. “Gardner’s office,” he said.

  “Good to hear your voice, sir,” answered Anderson.

  “Yours, too, Frank.” Maxwell turned to Gardner. “In case you were wondering, that’s Commander Frank Anderson, my XO. He’s got something to tell you, Henry. Go ahead, Frank.”

  “Yes, sir. Mr. Gardner, under Homeland Security Presidential Directive 118, you, the Secretary of Defense, and any others found to be in collusion with yourselves are hereby placed under arrest on the charges of high treason, murder, conspiracy to commit murder, and assorted other crimes. You are hereby remanded to the custody of the Military Police Corps until such time as a fair and impartial jury can be summoned to judge you for your crimes against the people of this nation and this world.”

  Gardner had only listened with half a
n ear to the voice on the phone, knowing full well what was happening. He had no intention of sticking around to find out how it ended, and made a break toward the door.

  “Barnes,” said Maxwell.

  Suddenly, Gardner’s escape was blocked by the imposing figure of Major Kimberly Barnes, and the even more imposing figures at her back of Tom Reynolds and Dalton Gaines, both armed, their rifles aimed at Gardner. He could almost feel the red dots of their laser scopes on his forehead.

  “Get out of my way,” he said, just managing to keep his voice from breaking at the end.

  “Fuck you,” said Kimberly, and her fist flew. Gardner took the punch on his jaw, the power of it flipping him around and making him rebound off the desk and the wall before he came to rest on the concrete floor. Fortunately for him, he was out cold before he got that far.

  “That’ll be all, Barnes,” said Maxwell. “Frank, we’re done here.”

  “Here, too, sir,” replied Anderson. George could hear yelling in the background, presumably from the former Secretary of Defense. “He was NOT happy.”

  “I expect not. One second, Frank.” Maxwell stepped aside as two very large MPs picked up the unconscious Gardner and cuffed him. “He goes in the Hole, boys. No visitors, for any reason, my order.” He turned back to the phone as Barnes and the rest of 1st Team’s Alpha squad entered the room.

  “How’d the rest go, Frank?” asked Maxwell.

  “Spot-on, sir. I don’t think any of them had even an inkling that we knew anything, sir.”

  “Good. How many of Gardner’s people did we get?”

  “All told, nearly 200, sir.”

  “Holy shit,” said Barnes. “Sorry, sir.”

  “No problem, major. I said the same thing when the commander gave me his final report.”

  “We believe that’s all of them, sir. There could be more, but with most of them gone…”

  “Right. Get everything rounded up there, and then get your ass back here.”

  “Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”

  “He’s right in here, Morena.” Mary Adamsdóttir led the raven-haired former nurse into the lab, directing her toward a bed surrounded by blinking, beeping machines. On the bed, David Blake lay in quiet repose.

  Morena Forrest was a study of mixed emotions as she approached the bed of this man she had met so briefly. Michael, her adopted son, stood next to her, holding her hand and looking around.

  “I only met him once, you know,” she said, her voice sounding hollow.

  “It was in Laramie, wasn’t it?” asked Mary, one hand on Morena’s shoulder.

  “Yeah. He had just helped us realize that we had a bunch more walkers in the hospital. He was… nice. But when he saw Michael, he just lost it. Started babbling.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” she asked, turning to Mary. “How can I… how can we help him?”

  “Just talk to him. Even though he can’t respond, he’ll hear you. Many, many studies have shown that coma patients react well to people talking to them, spending time, holding their hand, whatever.”

  “He’s in a coma?”

  “Not exactly. He’s technically catatonic. That means he’s theoretically aware of everything going on around him, but just can’t or won’t respond, for reasons known only to him. That’s what we’re hoping you can help us with.”

  Morena stood a moment longer, looking at this man that she hadn’t really known. “So I really look like her? And he looks like Eric?”

  “It’s uncanny. Here, I can show you.” Mary grabbed her laptop off her desk and brought up the comparisons. “You can see why this might have happened.”

  It’s like looking in a mirror, Morena thought. Only I have blonde hair.

  “Creepy,” she said. “No wonder it messed him up.”

  “We have no way of knowing whether you sound anything like her, but I would caution against pretending to actually be her. That could only worsen the situation, and send him even further from us if he did wake up.”

  “Okay,” Morena said, taking a chair and bringing it over to David’s bedside. She pulled Michael onto her lap. “Michael, do you know why we’re here?”

  The little boy nodded. “To make the sick man feel better.”

  “Right. So we’re going to talk to him, and see if we can help. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Morena reached out and took David’s hand in hers. “Mr. Blake? David? My name is Morena Forrest. This is Michael.”

  “Hello,” piped up Michael.

  “We want to help you get better, David. I know that wherever you are, it’s a safe place, where nothing can hurt you. I know that you went there at least a little because of us, because we look like Rebecca and Eric.” She looked for some vague indication that David knew she was there, that she was making any impact on him, but found nothing. “I don’t know if you can even hear me, but I owe it to you, and to Kim, to try. You saved our lives, David.”

  Michael reached over and laid his hand on David’s. “Please, mister, please wake up.”

  Mary turned away, wiping a tear from her eye, and noticed Kimberly standing at the door to the medical bay, one hand over her mouth and tears running down her face. Mary walked over to her and let the taller woman lean on her shoulder as she sobbed. “It’s okay, Kim,” she said. “You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

  A few moments went by, and Kimberly slowly got herself back under control enough to be able to watch Morena and David again. Mary handed her a tissue from a box nearby.

  “Thanks,” Kim said. She looked intently at the pair still talking to David. “I’m glad they’re here. How long?”

  “Only a few moments before you arrived. I haven’t seen any response yet, and nothing on the monitors.”

  “Maybe I’ve got the answer. We just arrested Gardner.” She looked back at Mary. “He’s holding… was holding… Eric in a cell, Mary.”

  Mary’s shock was palpable. “Holy…”

  “Exactly. It gets worse, though. Much worse.” Kim laid out the details of everything they’d found on Gardner. “As soon as I found out about Eric, I knew that’s what sent him over the edge.”

  “No shit!” said Mary. She blushed bright red and covered her mouth. “Sorry.”

  “Oh, please,” Kim said. “Mary, George has known for a while. He didn’t tell you– ”

  “He didn’t tell me because he needed my help but wanted to protect me.” She rolled her eyes. “One of these days, that man will protect me to death.”

  “He doesn’t mean…”

  “Oh, I know. I’m just bitching to keep from thinking about how close I was to that much… well, evil is really the only word for it.”

  Kim looked over at the only occupied bed in the ward. “I’m just wondering if I should tell David.”

  “Yes!” Mary said, grabbing Kim by both arms. “Of course you should! That might be just the thing!”

  Mary dragged Kim over to David’s bed, where Morena was winding down, running out of things to talk about. Kim nodded to her, and ruffled Michael’s hair. He smiled and stuck his tongue out at her, causing her to grin.

  Suddenly, there was a louder beep from one of the monitors, and Mary bent to check it out. Straightening again, she looked at Kim.

  “Tell him, Kim.”

  “Tell him what?” Morena asked, standing up to let Kim sit down. Mary drew her a step away and explained the situation as Kim looked at the man she loved, lying unresponsive once more. Michael stood near her shoulder, as though standing watch.

  He’s seen enough soldiers do it, Kim thought. Maybe that’s exactly what he’s doing.

  She took a deep breath, then held David’s hand in both of hers, trying not to cry again.

  “David, it’s me. I hope you can hear me.” She glanced at the monitors, but there was no response. “We got him, David. Gardner. We arrested him, and the Secretary of Defense, and everyone involved. The president authorized it.”

  Still no change that she could se
e. Time for the big guns, she thought.

  “We know where Eric is, David. We found him. Once we got him in the cell, Gardner spilled his guts to keep us from executing him on the spot.”

  A beep from the machine, then two more. Adamsdóttir checked the machine, then motioned for Kim to continue.

  “We can get him back, David. We can put him out of his misery. No more pain, for either of you.”

  More beeps, and David groaned.

  “Please, David. Come back to me. I can’t do this without you. Please.” She was crying all-out now, squeezing his hand so hard she thought she’d break it.