“I don’t need to talk, David. I had to kill my fiancée. I had to shoot her so she wouldn’t become one of them. What could you possibly say that would help with that?” He turned away, dismissing me as though I didn’t exist.
I’ll admit that his casual dismissal of my own pain pissed me off. Until I realized a simple fact: He didn’t know about Rebecca or Eric.
“I may be the only person here who can truly understand what you’re going through.”
I didn’t expect what happened next; how could I? One minute, we’re sitting on the picnic table, watching the sun come up. The next, he had me in a choke hold — with one hand, no less — against the wall of the barracks, my feet drumming on the wall six inches off the ground.
“You. Don’t. Know. Anything,” he said, his face a mask of rage and pain.
I don’t know how, but I managed to choke out a few words. “I killed Rebecca.”
He didn’t let me go, but his iron grip on my throat relaxed a minute fraction, enough for me to get in a gasp of air.
“Who?”
“Rebecca. My fiancée.”
I caught myself just in time as he let me go, turning back to the sunrise, as though nothing had happened, climbing once more up onto the table. I shook my head and coughed a little to make sure everything was still attached and working, then joined him again, sheer stubbornness keeping me at it.
“We had been living together for over a year, and were gonna get married in about six months,” I said, my voice rasping out of my bruised throat. To say nothing of my ego, I thought. “She was bitten, and I had to shoot her. She had already turned, but I couldn’t leave her like that.”
I thought Dalton may have sighed a bit, but couldn’t be sure.
“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, or will ever do, pulling that trigger. I’d seen her less than a day before, bright and beautiful, but to see her like that… to leave her like that… that was more than I could bear. So I did what had to be done.”
I put my hand on the big man’s shoulder, and he didn’t flinch or draw away. “You did the same thing for Rachel, D. What she asked. She knew the score; she knew what was going to happen. You saved her from that.”
“How do you live with it?” he asked, so quietly that I barely heard it.
“I take it a day at a time, same as anyone else. Some days are harder than others.” I sighed. “It’s a bit worse for me, though.”
He turned to me, anger clouding his features, and I held up a hand.
“Just listen,” I said, taking a deep breath, and then another. “You were there when Gardner was arrested, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah, that bastard got the surprise of his life when Kim decked him,” he said.
“Well, did Kim tell you anything about why he was being arrested?”
“Not really, just that they had evidence he’d done some pretty awful stuff.”
“That’s putting it mildly. One of the awful things he did was to take a little boy and keep him locked up in a cell.” I looked at the rising sun, unable to hide the tears in my eyes as I remembered. “That little boy was soon to be my stepson. His name was Eric Campbell. Gardner kept him to experiment on; he had been turned as well, back in Fall Creek.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah.”
“No wonder you…” He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. I didn’t blame him.
“Went wacko? Three fries short of a Happy Meal? Yeah. That combined with seeing Michael and Morena…”
“Morena? The new chick? What about her?”
“Kim didn’t tell you? I’m not surprised, really,” I said, pausing as I remembered the day I’d lost it. “Morena and Michael are dead ringers for Rebecca and Eric.” I snorted. “Poor turn of phrase, but you know what I mean. Put a blonde wig on Morena and she’d be Rebecca.”
Gaines had no response this time.
“So you can see, when I say that I know what you’re going through, I mean it.” I put a hand on his shoulder once more. “Any time you need to talk, I’m here. And so are the others.”
I stood up, dusting off my ACU, then turned back to him once more as he stared toward the rising sun. “Just remember this one thing, D. You’re not alone.”
I didn’t say anything more as I left, but I did notice a tear fall, and I was glad. At least he was grieving properly, and not going batshit insane for a month and a half like me.
Now if we can all just keep it together, we might just make it out of this mess.
Washington, D.C.
“What’d you do, Keith? Straight-up copy this from Deep Impact?” The president’s chief of staff was incensed, yelling at the younger man with a wadded up copy of the speech in his hand. “What happened to the version I reviewed yesterday?”
“Look, Jack,” said the speechwriter. “There’s only so many ways you can write an end-of-the-world speech, ok? Anything I write is going to sound like it came from Deep Impact, or Armageddon, or something! And the one yesterday was crap. You and I both know it.”
Jack took a deep breath, then let it out.
“Well, this one is a damned good speech, and better than yesterday’s. And it is the end of the world. Let’s just hope he doesn’t start ad-libbing. Again.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States.”
The podium was cleared, and for a brief moment, the seal of the White House was visible behind it, before it was washed out in a blaze of flashbulbs. The president stepped up and bowed his head, as if praying.
Maybe that’s appropriate, given the content of this speech, he thought. Only a few people in the room knew the full nature of what he was going to say, while others “in the know” hadn’t made it this far. He’d already had several staffers quit to go be with their families.
Not that I blame them for that, he thought. That’s where I’d rather be, too. He looked up from the podium, square into the camera and into the eyes of most of the world.
“My fellow Americans, and citizens of the world: By now, it will have come to your attention that this broadcast is coming to you live, over every channel. Every satellite, every radio station, every TV and news outlet online is carrying this message, in the hope of reaching as many of you as possible.
“Our great nation has been beset by a horror the likes of which none of us have ever seen, and could only imagine in the worst of our nightmares. Our families and loved ones have fallen ill, and none of them have returned to us.
“We have told you that this is due to a new type of influenza. In truth, we have withheld certain information to protect as many of you as we could, and to give us time to work on a solution, including searching for a cure. While we have not, as yet, found a cure, we do have an alternative that is even now being activated.
“You have all seen the news reports from HealthWatch and other sources, noting the rising number of dead in our cities and from around the world, all attributed to the ‘new flu.’ You have been told to stay in your homes, to isolate the infected, and to avoid contact with anyone who may be infected at all costs.
“This is, quite simply, not enough. For what we are dealing with, there are no half-measures. The truth is stark, certain, and like nothing you have imagined. Or, more accurately, it’s exactly what you have imagined, but never thought possible.
“I know that what I’m about to tell you will sound like science fiction. When I was first informed, I thought the same. But there is evidence — as I will show you — and there can be no doubt as to its veracity. This is not a spoof, not a comedy skit, not an error. The threat is real, and very, very deadly.”
The president paused, leaning on the podium in a classic politician’s ‘I’m one of you guys’ pose. The speechwriter closed his eyes. I hate it when he improvises, he thought.
“Look, you folks know me by now. You know I don’t beat around the bush or pull any punches, much to the chagrin of my staff and administration. I don’t see any reason to change that now
. So I’m going to give it to you straight. They want me to call these things some sort of made-up scientific name, or use a politically-correct term, but that’s not what you need right now.
“What I think you all need is the truth, something you can understand without having a doctorate, something that actually tells you what we’re facing here. You deserve to know the truth, so that you can protect yourselves and your families as you see fit. So I’m trusting you with this information, knowing that you will live up to my faith in you. With that in mind, ladies and gentlemen, what we are dealing with is — and I say this with utmost sincerity — zombies.”
The president was interrupted by a wave of somewhat relieved laughter that swept the room, picked up by the video cameras and transmitted around the world. People in their living rooms and around their dinner tables relaxed, sure that despite his words, this was all an elaborate hoax.
It was only when the journalists and TV crews in the White House Press Room realized that none of the president’s staffers nor the president himself, were laughing, that they began to sober. The president held up a hand for quiet as the questions began to fly.
“Please hold all your questions until the end, although I know how difficult that must be. We have a lot to get through.” He faced the cameras once more, square-jawed and calm. “I realize that some of you may believe that this is the biggest hoax since the famous War of the Worlds radio broadcast by Orson Welles in 1938. Sadly, it is the truth.
“As you know, this illness is not contained to our corner of the globe. Other nations around the world are being notified at this moment by their leaders, who have been working closely with us since the beginning of this crisis. This disease is a global pandemic. Medical facilities, cities, towns and even whole countries are being overrun by the infected.
“Many of you are familiar with ‘Mad Cow Disease.’ The agent which causes this disease — a prion — is a natural protein that has become twisted from its normal form. In the case of this ‘new flu,’ however, the situation is much more dire. The prion will kill its host within 16 to 24 hours after initial infection. Once dead, the host will then re-animate, and seek out new hosts.
“There is no cure." The president paused for effect, letting the realization sink in for his listeners. "Once infected, the host will die and reanimate. This process may take more or less time, depending on where on their body the victim was bitten. And yes, the primary mode of transmission is through bites, although any contact with bodily fluids will also result in infection.
“I don’t have to tell any of you what a zombie is. You’ve seen the movies and TV shows and read the comic books. What we are dealing with here is nothing short of a horror movie come to life. The dead are walking, and they’re hungry.”
Medics were moving through the crowd now, attending to several who had fainted. That’s just the start, thought the president. Wait till they see the video.
“In case there are any who still disbelieve, I have ordered that video proof be made available online. I will not show it now, due to the graphic nature of the content. Please play it when my speech concludes, but do not allow your children to watch it.
“However, as bad as this may seem, all is not lost, and even now a long-planned series of actions are taking place to safeguard our way of life.”
A screen came down beside the president, who pointed to the basic graphic. “What you see here is a drawing of a bunker, built into the side of a mountain. This bunker will hold thousands of people, including all the food, water, and other facilities necessary to shelter them for up to 20 years. We call this Project Phoenix.
“There are ten such bunkers spread across our nation. I can’t tell you exactly where, for security reasons. These bunkers are at this moment being stocked with supplies, as well as priceless historical and artistic treasures of our culture.
“Obviously, we cannot all take refuge there. Using information collected over the last five years from various source, a list has been compiled of the best of us, in all fields of human endeavor and from all walks of life, together with their families. A list of 100,000 people who will save our way of life. Those selected are receiving notification as we speak. Please understand that there is no possible way to steal a notification or to impersonate someone who has been chosen. Do not try.
“Let me be clear. We will survive. The human race has resisted every attempt in our long history to destroy us. We will survive this as well. These bunkers have been outfitted with the latest in scientific equipment, and those who are chosen will work night and day to find a cure, a way for us to return to the surface of our world, and to save those left behind.
“Until then, we will fight. We will not go gently into that good night. A special unit of our Army has been formed to help in the evacuation of those who have been selected, and to train those who must remain behind.”
The president leaned forward once more, his stare intense and direct. “As of now, martial law is declared in the United States of America. All borders are closed, all airports and seaports are locked down. No unauthorized travel is permitted by air, land or sea. Stay in your homes. Await your selection notification. Isolate the infected. Violence against military personnel or each other will be dealt with swiftly and harshly. Looting of any kind will be considered a capital crime.”
Standing tall again, the president looked at the cameras one last time. “We will survive. We will go on. Life will prevail. In this, our darkest hour, I pray that God is with us all. Thank you.”
A knock sounded on our barracks room door, and Kim looked over at me as I swam up from the brief nap I’d been taking over my paperwork. What could I say? Comparing equipment lists wasn’t exactly the most exciting thing in the world. I looked back at her and shrugged, then got up and cracked open the door.
I could not possibly have been more surprised than I was at that moment.
“Who is it, David?” Kimberly asked, and I fought hard to keep a smile from my face as I turned to answer her.
“Oh, no one important, I guess.”
“Says you, fella,” said the very large man on the other side of the door. “She might feel differently.”
“That can’t be…” Kim looked stunned. “Not…”
I stepped out of the way as Jonathan Michael Barnes, Jr. moved into the room, ducking his head to avoid the doorframe.
Yeah, he was that big.
Looking back, I’m fairly certain that it was words of some sort that came out of Kim’s mouth as she rocketed across the room to fly into her brother’s arms, but I’ve never been able to figure out what they were. Not like it mattered.
“Hey, ease up, sis. Those are my ribs, ya know.”
She laughed and smacked him on the arm as she let him go and stepped back. It was only then that she noticed what I had seen an instant before. Johnny was wearing an ACU with an AEGIS patch on it.
Kim ran her hand over it, then looked up as she realized that he would be putting his life on the line along with the rest of us. “No, Johnny…”
He took both her hands in his, sat her down at the table, and squatted beside her. As tall as he was, he was still at eye level. I took the other seat and waited.
“George called me,” Johnny said. “I don’t know how he found me, but it isn’t important anyway. He said he had a spot open on a team, and that he could use my help. That you could use my help, Kimmy.”
Kim looked overwhelmed, and I’m not sure she was really listening at that point. “Which team did he put you on?” I asked.
He glanced my way and gave me his own version of the Barnes’ trademark thousand-watt smile I’d seen from Kim so many times. “First, of course. I’m in Alpha squad.”
“Of course, you realize what this means, babe,” I said, smiling as well.
“What?”
“He’s going to be with us. In Bunker One.”
Kim sort of lost it then, happy and hugging her brother close. This was the most emotional I’d ever
seen her, and I can only imagine what that must’ve felt like. But I held out one hand as we all stood.
“Good to have you along, bro,” I said. He looked at me sideways for a moment and turned to Kim.
“Bro?”
She laughed, and patted him on the chest. “There’s a lot to tell you, Johnny.” I smiled as she pulled him toward the door. “But first, let me tell you about Rachel…”
Seattle, Washington
Tom Reynolds looked out over the city as his plane and 7th Team came in low and heavy into McChord Air Force Base. Loaded down with two Strykers, several cargo trucks, provisions and various personnel, the Globemaster was really pulling its weight this time.
I hate this part, he thought, wincing as the big plane touched down hard and then bounced once before rolling down the tarmac. Although that was as good as anyone could’ve done it, as overloaded as we are.
The Dying of the Light (Book 1): End Page 35