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Beyond Armageddon: Book 01 - Disintegration

Page 37

by Anthony DeCosmo


  ---

  Trevor sat alone in the dark on the top floor of Hunter hall.

  Outside, the storm had stopped shortly after dusk leaving behind a tranquil, snow-covered campus with drifts pushed high against walls. A first-quarter moon glowed above and white grains of snowy powder gusted in and out of the moonbeams while the wind whispered amongst the dead buildings. The temperature had dropped dramatically with the setting sun. A cold, dry air hovered overhead.

  Several hours past since Danny Washburn and his men were dragged off into some other dimension. Yet despite the demolition team’s grisly fate, Stone’s surviving soldiers considered the mission a success.

  Of course, they were right. Certainly the Old Man would agree. A small price to pay for walking the path.

  Trevor closed his eyes.

  Help us for Christ’s sake! You can’t leave us!

  He pounded a fist into his forehead, leaned against the corner of the room, and slumped to the floor. He purposely ignored the blanket there, shunning the warmth it offered as if he did not deserve such comforts.

  He heard her footsteps in the hallway. He did not want to see her. He did not want to be seen by her.

  Nina entered the room with a flashlight in hand. She spotted him huddled in the corner exhaling short puffs of frosty breath.

  "Trevor? You okay?"

  He did not respond.

  She walked to him.

  They had not spoken since the end of the attack. She had been busy organizing everyone for the night. They would start the return trip in the morning.

  Nina knelt next to him. She saw him shiver.

  "You getting sick?"

  She placed a hand to his forehead. He felt cold.

  Nina realized she had seen him like this once before: the time he had cried next to the body of Sheila Evans.

  She turned off the flashlight, sat on the floor next to him, and whispered in the dark: "It’s not your fault."

  "Yes it is," he insisted in a monotone voice. "I should have known better. I should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy. I should have spent more time watching and waiting. Or maybe…maybe I should have sent Stonewall’s men to get Danny. Why didn’t I do that? I wasn’t thinking!"

  "Listen, the longer we would have waited the more chance it would have spotted us or that other hostiles would have stumbled on us. As for Stonewall, from what I heard his men couldn’t have done anything. They would have been killed, too. It was a tough call. That’s what leaders do. They make the tough calls."

  His voice wavered, "Leader? The same leader that had us raid the airport and pull all of our manpower off the estate. That went great, too. This leader just sent a bunch of people he knew to something worse than dying."

  He clenched his teeth. "I…could…hear him…on the radio…crying for help…. begging for me to do something…anything!"

  Nina searched for words.

  "You have to make those decisions. You can’t possibly know everything that’s going to happen. I’m just saying that you can’t be angry at yourself because of this."

  "Angry? You think I’m angry? Where’s your flashlight? Shine it on me! Look at the great leader! See who I am, Nina. See the fraud! See the man behind the curtain! See him curled up in a ball crying like a two year old and wishing he could go crawl under his pillow and wake up from this damn nightmare."

  He shivered again. She grabbed the blanket and tried to place it around his shoulders. He pushed it away.

  "I…am tired of this game! I don’t want to be the leader anymore. I don’t want to have peoples' lives depending on what I say. I don’t want to fight anymore. I want to go hide and cry myself to sleep. I don’t want to be strong and sure and none of that shit ANY-MORE!"

  Nina said nothing. What could she say?

  "There’s your great leader, Nina. I’m not the man you think I am. I’m Richard Stone. I sell Chevrolets. I live at home with my parents. I don’t know who this Trevor guy is. I don’t think I like him very much."

  Nina forced an arm around him. He tried to pull free but she would not let go. She tugged him close. He started to push free again but instead began to sob.

  "Let it out…you can…you can let it all out with me. You can try and chase me away but I’m not going away."

  He buried his face in her lap.

  Nina stroked his head and told her lover, "I know Trevor Stone. He’s got a tough job but he does the best he can; better than any one else could do. I know it used to be a lonely job but that’s not true anymore. Trevor Stone is never alone as long as I’m here. As for this Richard Stone guy, I’ve seen him from time to time. And you know what? I love him, too. So I don’t care who is here next to me, Trevor or Richard. You don’t have to hide from me. But when you need me to, I’ll hide with you…in the dark."

  Without thought, without planning, Nina found that, yes, she could give comfort to another human being. She could do more than kill; she could deliver mercy, too.

  She felt complete.

  Richard Stone cried for the loss of his life. He cried for the horrors he had seen over the months. He cried for the soul of Danny Washburn.

  And he cried most of all because he knew when sunrise came, Trevor would be back.

  Outside the windows, lazy flakes of snow rode the cold December wind.

  28. Sweet Dreams

  The return trip from Binghamton should have lasted a few hours but the knee-deep blanket of white covering the landscape turned the trip into a journey of three days.

  Snowdrifts devoured the roads, eliminating the difference between lane and shoulder, sidewalk and front yard. Road signs pointed to nothingness. With every tree, wrecked car, road, and parking lot covered in snow, navigation became an exercise in frustration. Travel at night in such conditions was impossible.

  The convoy inched along during the day. Drainage ditches swallowed vehicles; ice patches sent others careening into trees and guardrails. One rolled Humvee resulted in Rhodes breaking his collarbone.

  However, several survivors joined their ranks during the trip, including a family of four living in a camper at a highway rest stop.

  In the end, the convoy found its way home, arriving at the estate exhausted, hungry, suffering from all manner of wounds and sickness, and generally resembling more a defeated army than victorious heroes.

  Trevor Stone labeled the mission a success and proclaimed that those lost would never be forgotten. This held particularly true for him; Danny's screams became a part of his soul.

  Even as they grieved for missing friends, the survivors realized the "Holiday Season" loomed. Evan Godfrey proposed a gala New Year’s Eve Ball. Preparations for the party became the talk of the estate.

  The Rheimmers trucked in a seven-foot blue spruce for the mansion’s Christmas tree.

  Everyone either found or made an ornament including paper stars cut by children and sparkling jewelry. However, Shep set the new standard for ornaments when he placed Sal Corso’s cap on the tree.

  Jon Brewer searched Washburn’s place and found his ATF badge left in a drawer: it made a nice silver ornament.

  Bear Ross scavenged on a Maryland Terrapins beverage coaster. He punched a hole in it and placed it on the tree in memory of Frank Dorrance.

  A porcelain bald eagle from Cassy Simms in memory of Bird; a simple placard with the word "Pop"; still more trinkets for Gruder and Tucker, Sanchez and Jennie.

  Trevor placed a tiara at the top of the tree for Sheila Evans: the first refugee he brought to the estate and one of the first lost.

  On Christmas Eve, the Brewers gathered their closest friends and, standing in front of the sparkling tree, announced Lori was pregnant.

  Temperatures dropped and stayed in single digits calling for firewood gathering parties and fast repairs to generators lest homes freeze. Even Godfrey and Omar Nehru worked together to prioritize and solve each problem.

  Volunteers cleaned an old dance and bingo hall a half mile from the estate. Omar promised gener
ators to run lights and a sound system as well as portable heaters.

  Kristy Kaufman searched the survivor records for musicians and mustered a band.

  Four-wheel drive vehicles burned gas ferrying people across the deep snow to the Shavertown shopping centers in search of formal wear. Trevor did not object to the use of the fuel because preparing for the gala ball kept spirits high despite the miserable cold.

  Trevor himself found a tuxedo but Nina expressed little interest. That did not surprise him. There were some things up Nina’s alley, and some things that were not.

  The Grenadiers and a few human volunteers—including Major Prescott—handled security that New Years Eve so the others could dance and drink.

  ---

  The men wore everything from three-piece suits to slacks and sweaters. It differed from the old days in that no one felt out of place; no one competed. The fancier the suit merely meant the luckier the scavenger hunt. The same held true for the women dressed in outfits ranging from gorgeous gowns to slacks.

  Trevor waded through the crowd to the table Jon captured next to the bar. Dante and Shepherd waited there with the Brewers. Lori wore a blue dress left over from someone’s prom.

  Trevor elegantly kissed her hand saying, "You look dashing, my dear."

  "Charmed, I’m sure," Lori drawled as soft music and chatter carried through the room.

  "Where’s Nina?" Shep asked as he sipped from a bottle of beer.

  "She’ll be over after guard duty."

  Shepherd snickered, "She probably volunteered for guard duty. Late to get here, first to leave, I reckon."

  "Not quite the social butterfly, huh?" Dante grunted.

  "Hey, too each their own," Lori defended her friend.

  "So, Trevor," Shep changed the subject as they stood in a circle with drinks in hand. "How’s Omar doing with that matter-maker thingy we found a while ago?"

  Brewer sniped, "Just ask Omar, he’ll give you an ear full."

  "It’s coming along, slowly," Trevor said. "Lots of limits to it. Can’t quite turn a brick into a gun or anything like that. But basic stuff. Hey, iron into gold. It can do that just fine."

  Dante suggested, "Basic elements, huh?"

  "Yeah, something like that. So far it looks like the biggest contribution that thing is going make in the short term is making more of that powder for the Redcoat guns and artillery. He’s been able to duplicate that stuff using things like sand. But it’s slow going."

  Shepherd said, "Everything is slow going with this weather. People have got to find a way to keep busy."

  "I know," Trevor agreed. "Prescott and some of his guys are setting up little boot camps for people. Basic training and all that."

  Lori chuckled and said, "Turning bankers and teachers into soldiers and sharpshooters? That should be interesting."

  "Why not?" Her husband sounded offended by her skepticism. "Anyone who survived this long is a fighter. With all that's ahead of us, it makes sense to start some formal training."

  Trevor told them, "We need the manpower, especially for the next few months. Let's hope this snow keeps bad things away; the K9 numbers are dangerously low. By spring there should be hundreds of adults at fighting age but right now the ranks are thin."

  Jon said, "Wow," but it had nothing to do with K9s: Something caught his eye.

  The piano played classical background music while the crowd of people—nearly fifty—stood in groups ringing the dance floor drinking, eating, and talking.

  On the far side of the room beyond the crowd stood Nina, scanning for her group. She wore a stunning black dress with stockings to match. Shiny diamond studs glinted in her ears and--most shocking of all-- her hair laid loose: no ponytail.

  Trevor could not pull his eyes from her.

  So natural. Not the least bit ostentatious. Well-toned muscles; strong calves; the gentle curls of blond hair on soft shoulders; the slight arch of her back; not on gaudy display but presented without interference, without the clutter of battle suits or, for that matter, no distracting phony glitz.

  Nina saw her friends staring at her with a mixture of awe and delight.

  She smiled, a little. Perhaps embarrassed. But not much.

  The piano played.

  Nina walked with humble grace across the hall on short heels. She captured the eyes of everyone in the room. Even the piano player stumbled.

  Trevor met her half way.

  She spoke before he could: "If you’re going to say anything, it had better be very charming."

  He hesitated. He could not possibly be as charming as this vision warranted.

  "You always surprise me, don’t you?"

  He put his hands on her bare shoulders.

  Trevor said, "You didn’t have to do this for me."

  Nina answered honestly, "I did it for me."

  His mouth opened but he could not find words. She smiled at his bewilderment.

  "Aren’t you going to tell me how I look?"

  He licked his lips and admitted, "I can’t. I’m not a poet."

  She grinned and leaned in. He kissed her forehead.

  Trevor escorted her to the others and they hugged and laughed. Jon brought more drinks from the bar. The band—brass, drums, and guitar--really got going.

  Trevor tried all night to get a good dance with his woman, but each time someone cut in.

  First Dante took Nina for a dip. Jon tried to teach her a polka and, of course, Jerry Shepherd demanded a dance.

  Jon brought along a digital video recorder. He captured the group as they gathered around the table late that night after many dances and many more drinks.

  Dante stumbled, "Hap—happy…what is it?…oh yeah, happy New Year!"

  "And now to our love birds…" Brewer led as he brought the focus on Nina and Trevor.

  "Damned straight!" Trevor exclaimed boisterously. Or maybe it was the vodka. "I love this woman!"

  "Oh stop, you’re embarrassing me," Nina insisted as he slung an arm around her beautiful frame and pulled her close.

  Trevor spoke louder; "I love this woman. Completely. With everything I am."

  "Get a room!" Lori Brewer’s off camera voice shot.

  "Besides," Trevor continued. "You’re cute when you blush."

  Nina—or maybe it was the wine—forgot her embarrassment. She let him pull her in, placed a hand on his cheek, and affirmed to him—to all of them: "I love you, too. I always will."

  They hammed for the camera with a big kiss and a cheek-to-cheek grin.

  Shepherd snapped a still photo of Nina, Trevor, Lori, Jon, and Dante standing arm to arm: the new generation of leaders and the hope of mankind’s future, sloshed at a New Year’s Eve party.

  Later, Trevor found that private dance with his love.

  She whispered, "I want to stay at the mansion tonight."

  "Sure. Any particular reason?"

  "Because I want to feel like a princess for a little while longer…"

  …Trevor carried a bottle of wine and two glasses as he followed her into the deserted Command Center. She stood at the balcony doors gazing at the dark winter night.

  Trevor placed the bottle and glasses on the desktop with a gentle ting, removed his tuxedo jacket, wrapped it over her bare shoulders, and they stepped out to the balcony.

  The moon hovered somewhere between full and third quarter. Moonbeams danced over churning, icy waves. The evergreen trees on the hillsides wore coats of surreal white frosting. The entire scene seemed frozen; a painted picture still and peaceful. The vision offered an illusion that all might be right with the world.

  "It’s beautiful, isn’t it, Trevor?"

  He hugged her.

  "Yes. Everything looks beautiful tonight."

  She placed her head against his shoulder and said, "Sometimes it's hard to believe that it’s such a dangerous, new world."

  "And I give it to you."

  "Hmmm, what a nice thought."

  He turned her and found those blue eyes.

/>   "It is what we make it. That’s what we’re doing now, you know; making the world over."

  She drew a serious curl in her brow.

  "There’s something you need to know, Trevor Stone."

  He raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

  "I love you. I mean, for real." She quickly placed a hand over her mouth to suppress a hiccup. "Oh, and I’m a little tipsy, too."

  He laughed. "Me too."

  "You’re tipsy, too?"

  "Yeah," he admitted. "And I love you, too. For real."

  They kissed in front of the tapestry of a moonlit winter night.

  ---

  The sweet dreams of New Year faded and the reality of winter set in.

  January and February were tough. The freeze-dried food stocks dwindled causing the farms to slaughter more animals and K9s to hunt wild game.

  In January, the first flu bug swept through. Trevor spent three days in bed with a fever. Nina managed to suffer only sniffles. A middle-aged resident died, infuriating Johnny who felt that with better medical facilities the man would not have succumbed.

  A second bug hit stomachs. Evan Godfrey bravely led an expedition to ransack drug stores for medications that helped ease the suffering.

  In February came a brief thaw followed by an arctic blast and snow squalls.

  Ice fishing and book swapping became popular but they were not the number one pass time. Trevor felt certain that soon Lori would not be the only one pregnant. He also noted Dante and Kristy Kaufman spending time together.

  In early April, spring arrived in earnest with the first thunderstorm. A few weeks later, the geese returned. Trevor resumed long-range patrols that month, resulting in the discovery of more survivors alive in conditions ranging from subsistence to relative luxury, yet they all eagerly joined the estate and willingly accepted the hierarchy.

  They returned to Wilkes-Barre in force, and this time did not leave. Stone created an operations center in the Luzerne County Courthouse, basing a rapid response force there.

  Much to Johnny’s delight, they cleared General Hospital. Despite a well-looted pharmacy, the hospital remained in surprisingly good condition. The doctor-turned-Reverend established a training program for nurses and medics.

 

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