Season of Rot

by Eric S. Brown

  He hoisted his rifle to his shoulder and peered through its scope. The kid was in his later twenties and was dressed like a punk in ratty jeans and a T-shirt of some stupid rock band. Geoff could have dropped him right then and there, problem solved, but something kept his finger away from the trigger.

  The last few days hadn’t been a cakewalk, even for him. He wondered how the punk had managed to survive, much less come so close to finding the base. Maybe Geoff had seen enough death over the last few days, or maybe he was just getting old; either way, the kid got to keep breathing.

  He carefully took the cigarette from his lips and slipped it back inside the pack, then stuffed the whole thing into his jacket pocket. “Ah… shit,” he whispered to himself and started down the tree.

  The birds were singing in the forest and the sky above was a bright blue filled with sunlight. The world went on as normal, oblivious to the hell mankind was going through. Geoff found that funny.

  He reached the bottom of the tree and vanished into the woods without a trace.

  #

  Jeremy paused on his way up the trail. He shrugged off his backpack and opened it, hunting for the map he’d picked up from the remains of a local tourist trap. He knew the base wouldn’t be on the map, even if it did exist, but he wanted to check the other landmarks to make sure he was still headed in what he believed to be the right direction.

  He didn’t hear his stalker step onto the path behind him until an arm snaked about his neck.

  Jeremy choked and fought against his attacker’s grip until he heard the gun cock beside his ear.

  “Stop it, kid, if you want to live to see the sun set.”

  Jeremy stopped squirming. “Look, mister—”

  “Shut up, kid.” The man released his hold and shoved him forward. Jeremy whirled around and almost broke into a smile when he saw the man’s green camouflage uniform.

  “I’d tell you to go home,” the man continued, “but I guess none of us really have one anymore…”

  The man, Geoff, was in his later fifties, and gray hair covered his head. His eyes were bloodshot and it looked as if he hadn’t shaved in days.

  With cat-like grace, he scooped up Jeremy’s backpack and slipped it onto his own shoulder. Muscles rippled and bulged beneath his uniform. “So I suppose I’ll have to take you back with me.”

  “To the base?”

  “To what’s left of it, kid.”

  As they made their way together through the woods, Geoff told Jeremy what he knew about the wave and about what had happened at the base, which he referred to as Def-Con IV.

  Apparently, the energy had been some kind of shockwave from somewhere far beyond the space known to mankind, perhaps from some interstellar war, or from an alien species’ failed experiments with dark matter. It didn’t really matter where it came from.

  The light was merely a side effect of the energy reacting with Earth’s atmosphere. A portion of the wave’s main body had been trapped in greenhouse gasses, and like a super and perpetual EMP on a global scale, the wave and its lingering remnants caused technological failures throughout the world, dampened or disrupted to the point of uselessness. Only basic things worked now; things like electricity and nuclear energy were out of the question until the field dispersed, which it was continuing to do a bit more every day.

  The alien energy field also produced a type of ambient radiation, which scientists believed would still be there in a thousand years unless they found a way to deal with it. This radiation was what caused the rampant “plague” of madness across the globe. It broke down the neural pathways of the human mind to their most basic core, leaving human shells full of only instinct and violence, unless you were immune, and very few people in the world were.

  At first, Def-Con IV retained contact with a handful of similar bases here in the United States and in the United Kingdom—for the first day they had even been in touch with the president and the White House—but they’d slowly lost contact with those bases one by one as the radiation plague and other problems took their toll. For all Geoff knew, Def-Con IV could very well be the last holdout of humanity in the world.

  During the first few hours of the chaos when the wave had reached the earth, the base had opened its doors to the locals who had come seeking shelter. Very quickly, the staff of the base learned firsthand of the secondary biological effects of the wave as those same locals succumbed to the radiation.

  A mini-war broke out inside the compound. It was a hard fight, but in the end Def-Con IV’s staff prevailed. Only Geoff and a handful of staff survived. Two were badly injured: one in a coma, the other in a wheelchair but healing. Geoff informed Jeremy that if he had come looking for salvation and hope, he’d came to the wrong place.

  They went through the high barbed wire fence that surrounded the Def-Con complex, and Jeremy got his first good look at the site. Before the wave, it had disguised itself as an agriculture research facility. Inside the fence, there were only three buildings, two of them the size of toolsheds, but the third was fairly large and very much civilian in nature. Blooming gardens stretched beyond the buildings with flowers planted around their edges, and the rear fence was far beyond eyeshot.

  “Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Geoff asked.

  “What?” Jeremy asked, as if snapping out of a dream.

  “That the gardens survived,” Geoff explained. “Like I said, when the wave first hit, people were flooding up here in droves based on rumors and desperate hopes. Of course, all they really cared about was finding the base and getting inside. I don’t think many of them headed out into the fields. Most of them poured straight into the garage.” Geoff pointed at the larger building. “I guess they thought it had to be the base since it’s the only real building up here. It’s in pretty bad shape now. Most of the vehicles were stolen or damaged by the mob when we stopped letting people into the real base below.”

  “How do you get inside?”

  Geoff laughed and led him towards the more battered of the two sheds. Its door was new and a sharp contrast to the aged and beaten wood around it. “I had a hell of a time fixing this back,” Geoff said as he opened the door, barely concealing his pride. “Carpentry’s a lot harder than killing people, kid.”

  The shed itself was completely empty except for a large metal plate in the middle of its unfinished floor. Geoff squatted and ran his fingertips across the hatch until his fingers felt a crease, the edge of a small lid that popped open to reveal a numerical keypad. He typed in an eight-digit code as Jeremy watched. Somewhere below the floor, a motor came to life and the plate rose up like a tilted manhole cover. Geoff motioned to the hole. “After you.”

  Jeremy slid down into a metal tunnel just wide enough and tall enough for two people (no more than six feet in height) to walk comfortably side by side. When they reached the large vault-like doorway at the end, Geoff typed a code into another keypad on the wall, and the door dilated from its center. Beyond lay another series of corridors.

  “Welcome to your new home, kid. You can call me Geoff. I don’t think I caught your name.”

  “It’s Jeremy, Jeremy Davis.”

  Geoff grinned. “You live around here, Jeremy Davis?”

  “Not really… Well, I guess I kind of did.”

  Geoff shrugged. “Didn’t we all. Well, I guess it’s time you met your new family.”

  The soldier led Jeremy deeper into the base.

  12

  Nathanial Richards punched a button on the control panel in front of him and watched as the test ran again. On the gigantic screen across the room, an image of a translucent wave struck the earth once more.

  Troy, sitting nearby, reclined and propped his feet up on a dark, malfunctioned console. He had no idea what Nathanial’s simulation meant, but from the way Dr. Sheena Leigh frowned in her wheelchair, and judging by the grim look on Nathanial’s face, Troy could tell it was nothing good.

  The wave shattered as it struck the earth, slowing from the speed of l
ight to a dead crawl in space as its fragments dispersed, each taking a different trajectory. Then the screen went black.

  “Run it again,” Sheena ordered, leaning forward in her wheelchair.

  Nathanial shook his head. “We’ve run it over three dozen times today alone, Sheena. There’s just no way to know where the pieces are headed. Maybe if we waited until the wave’s aftereffects dissipated in the atmosphere a bit more, we could link up to one of the satellites. Surely at least one of them had to survive. We could—”

  “I said run it again,” she interrupted.

  Nathanial got up from his seat as Geoff and Jeremy entered the room. He didn’t notice them, too focused on Sheena. “You run it again! I’m through for today. Until we get more data, we’re just wasting our time.”

  “Ahem.” Troy cleared his throat and pointed over Nathanial’s shoulder at the newcomers.

  Nathanial turned to face them, his features red with frustration. “Who the hell are you?”

  “His name is Jeremy,” Geoff responded with an edge to his tone. “He’s not infected by the radiation, so you might as well just go ahead and welcome him aboard.”

  “I hope to God he knows something about astrophysics and computers because I fuckin’ quit!” Nathanial stormed out of the room through an opposite entryway.

  “That’s Nathanial,” Geoff informed Jeremy. “You get used to him. That guy over there slacking off is Troy. He’s military like me.”

  Sheena rolled her chair up to them, and it was clear from the way her arms strained that she was not yet accustomed to her disability. “Do you, Jeremy? Do you know computers?”

  He stared at her. Even wheelchair-bound, this tiny woman with flakes of gray in her black, pinned-up hair seemed tougher than Geoff. She met his stare, her eyes unwavering through her thick glasses. “Well?” she urged.

  “Um… no, ma’am, I don’t.”

  “What did you do before…?” she let her sentence trail off.

  “I was an artist.”

  Sheena cackled. “You sure know how to pick them, Geoff. What use is he going to be? And more importantly, who’s going to give up their share of the food to feed him?”

  Troy hopped to his feet and moved between the doctor and Jeremy, sticking out his hand. “Glad to have you along for the ride. I promise not all of us are as crazy as we seem.”

  Jeremy took Troy’s hand and shook it firmly.

  “Bring him to the lab later,” Sheena ordered. “We need to make sure he’s clean.”

  Troy winked at Jeremy. “Gotta go. Duty calls.” Then he grabbed the handles on the back of the doctor’s chair and rolled her out of the room.

  “Who was that?” Jeremy asked as the pair disappeared down a corridor.

  “That’s our doctor and science whiz, Sheena. She was in charge here before things went to shit. She still thinks she is, most of the time.”

  A pale man, dressed in black and only slightly older than Jeremy, wandered into the control room. He wore thin, sleek glasses and carried himself with a flare of style. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed the two of them.

  “Oh God,” Geoff muttered, “not Ian.”

  “Good afternoon, Geoff,” the man said with a soft British accent and a smile. “And who might this be accompanying you today?” He didn’t wait long enough for a response, jumping back in as if hoping to interrupt any reply. “You don’t actually have to answer that. I couldn’t help but overhear your encounter with our resident witch doctor. She’s rather narrow-minded these days, obsessed with death you might say.”

  “Death?” Jeremy asked.

  Ian nodded, waving his hand effeminately as if dismissing Jeremy’s concern. “You’ve heard about the wave, I’m sure. It broke apart when it hit the earth, you see, and our good doctor is worried that a piece of it will hit the sun. If it did, it could disrupt the fusion reactions inside the star like it did the energy sources here; it would start a chain reaction and act as a booster as well, causing even our tiny sun to become a supernova. The sun would simply explode. It would be the end of our solar system. Of course, given our limited resources at the moment, it’s impossible to know where the fragments of the wave are headed.”

  Jeremy blinked, stunned to silence. Ian laid a hand on his shoulder. “Carpe diem, young man. Don’t worry about the future, only be concerned with the time you have now.”

  “What brings you out of your private coffin, Ian?” Geoff asked.

  “Coffee, my good man, Coffee. I was just on my way to the mess to brew a pot while we still have some left. Would you two care to join me?”

  “I think we’ll pass,” Geoff said without giving Jeremy a chance to respond.

  “Have it your way then.” Cheerfully, Ian continued along on his quest.

  “Come on, kid.” Geoff literally pulled Jeremy out of the control room. “Let me show you to your bunk.”

  They rode a nearby lift down to the military living quarters, a row of twenty-four rooms lining a long corridor. According to Geoff, only three of the base’s survivors lived down here: himself, Troy and the repair tech Wade. Nathanial, Dr. Sheena Leigh (when she could be pried away from her projects), and the base’s communications officer, a woman named Toni, stayed on another level in the civilian section, whereas Ian made his home in makeshift quarters he’d set up inside the armory, despite all the available space. Ian had been the CIA liaison and was, in Geoff’s opinion, the only complete psychopath left in the complex. There was also a woman named Lex, who was in a coma, Geoff explained. She was kept in the medical labs so Sheena could keep a close eye on her; they weren’t sure whether she would wake up normal or be affected by the wave.

  For the time being, Geoff assured him, Jeremy could stay with the “normal” people in the military quarters. The room he gave Jeremy was rather Spartan. It contained only a bunk, a small bathroom, and a single table supporting a computer tied into the mainframe.

  “It’s not much,” Geoff said, “But it’s a hell of a lot safer than living out there with those things.”

  A memory of Luke’s deranged, hungry face flashed through Jeremy’s mind and he shuddered.

  “The creatures don’t come around here much. It’s rather secluded and very few people knew there was even anything up here in the mountains. We do get a few wanders now and again. Nothing we can’t deal with so far. Besides, even if the things flocked up here in droves, there’s no way they could get inside the complex proper.”

  Jeremy nodded as he shrugged off his backpack and placed it on the bunk.

  Geoff headed for the door. “You look like you could use some rest, so I’ll leave you to it. We’ll worry about finding you a job tomorrow. Everybody here contributes somehow for the good of us all—except maybe Ian. We have to work together if we want to stay alive.”

  As the door slid closed behind Geoff, Jeremy slumped into the chair at the table and rested his head in his hands. It was true: he felt safer here than he had in days, and it was good to see people again, no matter who they were, but he still wondered if coming here had been the right thing to do.

  #

  Jeremy awoke to someone pounding on his door. He rubbed his eyes and climbed out of the bunk as a short, hideously muscled man entered the room. The man’s bald head gleamed from the light shining through the open doorway behind him.

  “Time to go, new boy. We’ve got work to do.”

  “Who… who are you?”

  “Name’s Wade. I keep things working around here, but today I’m going into town and you’re going with me.”

  “What? I just got here. Why me?”

  “You’re not that dense are you?” Wade walked over and rapped his knuckles on Jeremy’s skull. “Hello in there.”

  Jeremy backed away, and Wade glared at him.

  “None of us other than Geoff have really left the complex since the wave. Hell, you lived through the shit out there. I need a guide, Jerm, and you’re it.”

  “But I don’t know anything you don’t,
” Jeremy argued.

  “Daylight’s burning, new boy. Get your shit together or get out.”

  Jeremy had slept in his pants, so he pulled on his Rush T-shirt and reached for his .38.

  Wade saw him. “Leave that piece of crap. Here.” He shoved a .45 automatic into Jeremy’s hand. “We’ll stop and get you a real weapon on the way out too.”

  Minutes later, Jeremy sat inside the garage with Troy, Geoff, and Wade. He held an Uzi in his trembling hands and watched as Wade worked underneath the hood of a military issue jeep that had seen better days.

  Troy held an M-16 and took continuous drags off a cigarette. “I still don’t understand why you have to do this, Wade,” he commented between puffs.

  “You want to keep breathing?” Wade shot back, his voice muffled by the hood. “If I don’t get the parts to fix the ventilation systems from where you idiots shot it up, we’re all going to be headed out of here, and I sure ain’t trustin’ you to bring back the right gear.”

  Troy chuffed. “Next time a bunch of flesh-eating crazies get loose in the base, Wade, maybe you should have a talk with ‘em, huh? Tell them not to get near anything important as we blow their freakin’ brains out.”

  Wade popped his head out from under the hood. “Fuck you. You think I want to go out there into Hell?”

  “Look, Wade.” Geoff moved closer to the jeep. “Troy and I could do it. Just tell us what you need. You don’t have to go.”

  “Yes, I do,” Wade said. “Jeremy here’ll be all the help I need; besides, the boy has to contribute somehow. Why not this way?”

  Geoff raised his hands in surrender.

  Wade tossed Jeremy the keys to the jeep. “Get in and crank her up.”

  Jeremy did as he was told, and the jeep’s engine roared to life on the first try. Troy tossed aside his smoke and went to push open the building’s main door.

  “Catch you later, guys,” Wade said. “We got some shopping to do.” Then he motioned for Jeremy to get on with it, and they drove out of the complex and down the gravel road towards Canton.