The Dying of the Light (Book 1): End

by Jason Kristopher

  More beeps, and Mary smiled down at her. “Keep going.”

  Morena came back over, putting a hand on Kim’s shoulder as Michael added his voice as well. “Please wake up, mister,” he said.

  “David, we need you with us,” said Morena.

  Even Adamsdóttir joined in. “Come on, David, you can do it. Fight it. We’re all here for you.”

  Kim was voiceless now, her forehead pressed to David’s, her tears running over both their faces. She kissed him over and over again, murmuring words so low no one could hear them.

  “K… Kim?” His voice was a barely audible rasp. Mary grabbed a cup of water and handed it to Kim.

  “I’m here, David. I’m here,” Kim said, holding a straw to his dry, chapped lips. “Drink some of this.” He managed a few difficult swallows of the water. “Kim,” he said again, forcing his eyes open and blinking against the light. He raised his free hand to touch her hair. “You’re here.” He managed a lopsided grin.

  “Of course I am. Where else would I be?”

  David Blake looked around the room at those who had cheered him on. He flinched when his eyes rested on Morena, but Kim was ready for that and squeezed his hand. He smiled up at her. “Don’t worry. I’m still here. And I’m not going anywhere again.”

  “Hey, little man,” he said, looking over at Michael. “I heard you, you know.”

  Michael’s eyes got big as he looked at David. “Really?”

  “Yep.” David coughed, his voice still straining. “I heard you, and Morena, and Mary… thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, sir!” said the boy, drawing himself to a passable imitation of attention, and saluting. David saluted back, and winked at Kim, who looked over at Mary.

  Mary smiled and nodded, taking little Michael and Morena with her and giving the two some privacy.

  Kim looked down at David. “You’re not going anywhere?”

  David shook his head. “Never. I love you, Kimberly Barnes.”

  She smiled again, tears shining in her eyes. “Good. Cause I’ll kill you if you put me through that again.”

  David laughed weakly. “Noted, major,” he said, running a hand down her face. With the last of his strength, he drew her in for a kiss. “Never again.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Fort Carson, Colorado

  The next two weeks were difficult, as I came back to the land of the living. I didn’t have to learn how to walk again or anything that dramatic, but I had been asleep for nearly a month, and that takes it out of you. Still, I was running each morning, a little further every day, and working out in the gym, gaining back my strength and catching up on what had happened in the meantime. I spent a lot of time with Kim, and we were both glad when Maxwell ordered her, with a wink, to take some time off.

  Towards the end of my recovery, we went along on several missions with Alpha and Bravo teams, strictly as an observer in my case, as command in Kim’s. She was learning fast, and I could tell that Maxwell had chosen the right person for the job. She would make an excellent general some day, provided we still needed those in a few years.

  Maxwell ordered us to his office one afternoon, along with Commander Anderson. As they explained it, Gardner had kept everything about his ultimate plans as close to the vest as he could. None of his lackeys knew the whole truth, not even the Secretary of Defense. He had told them just enough to get what he needed from them, and no more. After weeks of thorough interrogation, the general had ordered most of them released, excepting only those who were guilty of heinous crimes; even without knowing the ultimate goal, some things were just too awful to let slide.

  Attacks were getting worse the world over; I was glued to HealthWatch every time it aired, as it became the de facto news source for the public on the outbreaks world-wide. Practically everyone on base watched, although most of us were wondering how much longer the cover story would hold up to such continued scrutiny.

  “Hello, and welcome to HealthWatch. I’m Tabitha Greene. Grim news tonight: The global death toll from the ‘new flu’ is now estimated in the tens of thousands, with hundreds more being infected every day. Nearly a thousand are confirmed dead here in the US, with many more infected. The CDC and USAMRIID are working to combat this outbreak as well as they can, and have set up additional patient treatment centers in many areas across the country.

  “In Southeast Asia, the news is much, much worse: the quarantine attempts in Thailand, Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia have all failed completely. Under siege from refugees fleeing infection, both Myanmar and China have mobilized their armed forces to protect and defend their borders, which were closed weeks ago. No one is being let in or out, infected or not. Government services in those countries are virtually non-existent at this point. According to our latest reports, all uninfected American citizens have been evacuated by heavily-armed military forces. Reports of mass executions and the slaughter of refugees attempting to cross the borders of both Myanmar and China are rampant, with thousands more dead.”

  Tabitha turned to face another camera, and a map of the region appeared next to her. “We have reports from the White House and State Department that China has issued a warning to the United Nations: If the situation worsens, China will use tactical nuclear weapons to defend themselves and their country. If this happens, it will be the first nuclear detonation outside of experimental testing since the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombs were dropped more than 70 years ago.” Another turn and she looked back at the camera.

  “We have scattered and unconfirmed reports from South Africa, Angola, the Sudan, Nigeria, Cameroon and as far north as the Sahara of outbreaks on that continent as well. Added to that, still more unconfirmed reports have come in from Brazil and Venezuela, and even from some Eastern European countries, though the outbreaks are smaller there. This is truly a global crisis, and medical and bioscience teams the world over are pooling their resources to fight this plague.

  “Last week, there was a demonstration outside of the CDC headquarters in Atlanta, and several protestors were arrested for vandalism. Additional protests have been held near the USAMRIID main base at Fort Detrick, Maryland, although these have been somewhat smaller due to the restricted access at that location. Most of the protestors are calling for more work on this outbreak, saying that no progress has yet been made. A small number of protestors have been calling for the government to stop all work on a cure for the virus, saying that ‘to attempt to cure that which God has wrought is a sin.’

  “This small yet vocal group appears to be led by this man, Reverend Sebastian Wright, from Boston.” A calm, well-groomed man sporting a clerical collar and clutching a crucifix appeared on screen, speaking to a group of men and women outside a church.

  “’Brothers and sisters! This is not a plague of the end times! This is not Armageddon! This is justice! God has sent us this divine retribution to test us, to show us that our evilness and wicked ways will no longer be tolerated! This cleansing of the sinners among us must be allowed to continue, or we will have sinned ourselves in the very light of our salvation!’

  “This was the scene yesterday outside the First Church of the Divine Judgment in Boston, newly created by Reverend Wright in the last month,” said Tabitha, as the feed returned to the live studio. “He has called for the governments of the world to cease all research into a cure, believing that only those who are worthy will be spared.

  “Work continues unabated behind the doors of the CDC and USAMRIID. We remind all our viewers to take precautions for your own safety. If you are near a Red Cross Patient Care Facility, you may bring the infected person or persons to those locations if you can do so safely. Red Cross Patient Care Facilities also offer free screenings. If you cannot bring the person to a PCF, you must isolate the infected if at all possible and call the 800 number on your screen. You will be given further instructions and assistance at that time.

  “Stay tuned for the latest news on the ‘new flu,’ and good luck to us all. This has been a Healt
hWatch Special Report. I’m Tabitha Greene.”

  “Stop that!” Rachel giggled and swatted at Dalton’s hand as he tried to tickle her. Dalton smiled and picked his fiancée up, swinging her around and trapping her arms at her sides, then throwing her onto their bed. “Make me.”

  “Oh, I will, you can count on that.” She sprang off the bed at him, but he easily caught her, folding her over his shoulder like nothing more than a sack of potatoes.

  A sack of potatoes with a great ass that just happens to be in swatting range, he thought.

  Suiting thought to deed, he gave her a good smack as she struggled, eliciting a startled yelp and more pounding on his back. She twisted and squirmed, but couldn’t break free.

  “Alright, fine. You win.” She relaxed her body, and he nodded in triumph as he set her back down on the bed, where she kneeled and glowered at him, still just shy of his height.

  He smiled down at her. She smiled sweetly back and he had just enough time to worry before she socked him in the gut, hard.

  Breathing hard, he reached for her, but she stuck her tongue out and scooted backwards on the bed, then gave him the look. He smiled and moved towards her, one knee on the end of the bed.

  This was, of course, when the alert sounded.

  “Goddamn you, Maxwell,” he grumbled, buckling back on his uniform. Rachel was already holding the door for him, and they ran for the briefing room, pulling on their jackets as they went. She shot a look at Gaines as they rounded the corner. “We’ll finish our discussion later.” It was not a question.

  Dalton grunted, and reached out a hand to swat her on the ass again, but she dodged and made it into the briefing room just ahead of him. He smiled as they took their seats. Even with all this shit, there are still a few good things happening.

  Maxwell walked in, Commander Anderson at his side. Though they were deep in discussion, Dalton could see that the commander was keeping an eye on the soldiers filing into the room. He noticed that the room was filling up fast; there must be a big mission on, as he recognized members from 2nd and 5th Teams as well as the rest of his own 1st Team. He glanced at Rachel, who shrugged and nodded towards the front of the room just as Anderson yelled.

  “Ten-hut!”

  The soldiers stood at attention.

  “At ease, men. Take your seats, if you can. Lights!” The lights were turned off, and a projector map of what looked to Dalton like a seaport somewhere was shown on the large screen at the front of the room.

  “Gentlemen and ladies, this is the Port of San Diego.” Maxwell turned and used his laser pointer to indicate a section of the map. “This area is the Tenth Avenue Marine Terminal. As you can see, it’s less than half a mile from downtown San Diego.

  “San Diego is home to 1.3 million people. This port ships nearly 3 million metric tons of cargo each year, from all over the world. Two days ago, a cargo ship arrived at the port and began unloading.” The map disappeared as Maxwell nodded at Anderson, who was controlling the presentation from the briefing table. A photo of a container ship appeared, the name VTC Dragon on its prow.

  “The VTC Dragon‘s last port of call was Ho Chi Minh City, in Vietnam.” Maxwell nodded as the news sank home. “Exactly. We only received the reports from the Coast Guard on the ship’s inspection one hour ago. Prominently featured in these reports was the severe illness of several of her crew members. The inspectors didn’t know what to look for, but we did. Doctor?”

  Mary Adamsdóttir walked forward, nodding to Anderson who changed slides again. This time, the soldiers were rewarded with views of the wounded Vietnamese sailors, several of whom had obvious bite marks. “We can determine from the report that at least three of the sailors are infected, with the possibility of at least 4 or 5 more that came in contact with the virus. All wounded crew were transferred to a local hospital for treatment.”

  There was a general murmur in the room that broke off when the doctor continued.

  “The whereabouts of all of these potentially infected are not currently known. We know where the three original sailors are — locked in a hospital ward at the moment. The others are at large.

  “As soon as we received the report, I ordered an immediate lockdown of the port, through the CO of the naval base that’s practically next door. That has been our one saving grace in this; the squids were able to close it up tight. So far, the only people we know have been in contact with the infected are all accounted for, except those 4 or 5 that the good doctor mentioned.”

  Another click, and another slide, this one of row after row of warehouses. “This is the problem. There’s over a million square feet of warehouses, sheds, and other storage areas at the terminal alone. The Navy boys managed to lock it down so no one’s getting in or out, but that still leaves a lot of ground to cover. Commander?”

  Anderson stood up as another slide appeared, showing the overall strategic action map. “We’ll be using four teams for this op: 1st, 2nd, 5th and 8th. I’d like it if we had more, but the other teams are at other incursion sites. We’ll go in small — by twos or squads, working fast. That doesn’t mean we take chances, but we’re going to be light on boots with this one, and we need to make every minute count.

  “Eighth Team will be assisting the on-site Naval personnel with securing the perimeter, as well as helping with the screening. We’ve got a med team en route already to help with that, but they’ll need backup, and 8th has gone with them. They’ll also pick up the walkers at the hospital and make sure no one there has been infected. Hopefully, by the time we touch down, most of the civilians in the port will have been screened and we can get them out of there. Lights!

  “All yours, sir,” he said to the general, resuming his seat at the briefing table.

  Maxwell looked out at the soldiers in the room. Thirty-five men and women to search a million square feet of warehouses. This is insane.

  “Alright, men, you know your jobs. You’ve trained for this. You’re ready. All the same, this is deep shit. I want your heads right, your game faces on. No fuck-ups, or the last thing you’ll need to worry about is a walker getting to you. Clear?”

  “Clear, sir!”

  “Good. Now grab your gear and report to the airfield on the double. Dismissed.”

  Warehouse District, San Diego, California

  It felt good to be back in action, on the ground against my old foe once more. I knew that was crazy, but I’d been asleep for more than a month. Anyone was liable to be antsy after that.

  “Will you calm down?” asked Kimberly. “You’re making me nervous.”

  We were huddled against the wall of the warehouse, our backs resting against the cool metal. Fluorescent light glared down from the fixtures overhead, but it never seemed to penetrate everywhere, leaving small pools of shadow here and there.

  I chuckled and took a few deep breaths, slowing my heart rate. I felt like I’d had a whole pot of coffee, without the pleasure of actually drinking it. I turned to take up guard position as Kim shook her head and called in.

  “Alpha Six, east section clear.”

  “Roger, Alpha Six.” Commander Anderson was controlling the op, and his voice sounded tinny and strained. Probably needs to get some sleep, I thought. “Proceed to checkpoint three.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Kim nodded and we moved to the north-eastern edge of the warehouse, clearing the door there and proceeding to the next warehouse over, where we began another sweep. Other duos were clearing other buildings, so we didn’t worry that we’d left something behind us. Anderson knew the search grid, so we left it in his hands.

  “Eaton, Gaines, status?” asked Kim as we moved down the rows of stacked merchandise. Dalton and Rachel were both supposed to be in this building as well, clearing it from the other side, working both ends against the middle.

  “On site, sir. Beginning sweep now.”

  “Roger. Reynolds?”

  “Angelo and I are about halfway done with our sweep, sir. Ames and Turner are on the
east side.”

  “Roger. Six out.”

  I stopped and crouched at the end of the current row of whatever it was in these boxes, and looked at Kim. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “What, that Ames and Reynolds in the same building is a recipe for disaster?”

  “Yeah, that.”

  “They’re professionals. They can handle it.”

  I scowled. “Tom is. Ames isn’t.” I sighed. “I guess there’s nothing for it, though. Let’s get this finished.” I hefted the SCAR and cleared the left side as we continued on.

  Tom will just have to take care of himself on this one.

  “Contact left.” A soft whisper from Eaton. Dalton looked and didn’t see it right away, but remained still, and eventually spotted it. There was no way that guy was still alive, despite the fact that he was walking around. “Two tangos.”