“Take Brent and Michelle with you. No sense in taking unneeded chances; besides, Michelle’s a hell of a lot more diplomatic than you are.”
Warren scowled. “Give me ten minutes to round them up and get in position.” With that said, he stormed out of the room.
“Damn,” Darren commented. “That man is ready to kick some ass.”
“He’s always ready,” Mike said. “I’m just glad it’s not ours.”
Four
Kyle stirred on his makeshift bed. His dreams had not been pleasant, hadn’t been since the darkness came. Hell, they never had been pleasant, he admitted to himself. He wasn’t the kind of person who had nice dreams.
He sat up, dropping his bare feet onto the metal floor of the lab and scratching his eyebrow. His back ached from using a lab table as a mattress.
Ever since he had gone into hiding a week ago, he hadn’t been able to shower or shave properly. It bothered him more than the dregs of shit food he’d been living on since he’d locked himself in the lab.
When the intruders first broke in, he had cursed himself for not repairing the outer doors. He should have done it as soon as he arrived, even before he brought the base’s systems online. But he’d thought the world was dead, and to save time and energy he’d decided to turn on systems as needed. The intruders had taken him so off-guard, there was no way he could’ve sealed them out. So he’d taken what precautions he was able to, locking down security systems, disabling a few key systems—or at least turning them off again—and grabbing what he thought he’d need to survive until they were gone. Kyle had never imagined they would take up residence in the base. In the heat of the moment, he’d only seen them as looters, not refugees, and now he was paying the price.
He dressed and began to search through his dwindling rations for something he’d be able to stomach for breakfast.
Suddenly a voice filled the room, startling him so bad he dropped the granola bar he’d just dug out of the pile.
“Hello,” the voice said. “My name is Michael Stevenson. We mean you no harm. Please use the base’s intercom to respond if you can hear me.”
Kyle raced to the lab’s door and snatched up one of the two M-16 rifles propped against the wall.
They’d found him. Though he had hoped he wouldn’t be discovered, some small rational part of his brain knew this would happen.
“Hello. Please respond if you can hear me,” the voice continued. “My name is Michael Stevenson. I am a former director of this facility. Please, we mean you no harm.”
Kyle stood by the lab’s door, knuckles white from his tightening grip on the rifle. His eyes darted to the intercom panel on the far wall.
Had they been able to access the base’s security measures despite his efforts, or were they merely guessing that someone else was here with them? Were they military or civilian? From the glimpses he’d caught of them on the exterior cameras, he was inclined to guess the latter, but if so, why would they have a former director with them? Was the voice lying about who he was? If not, then Kyle knew he was screwed. If the man was who he claimed to be, then surely they’d repaired the scanners and would know exactly where he was at all times, even if he made a run for it. Worse, they would know he was alone. Likely there were armed men already waiting on the other side of the door.
Guessing he had no other option, Kyle set aside his rifle and walked towards the intercom panel.
#
“Still nothing?” Darren asked.
Mike scowled at him. “You’re sitting right here. Have you heard anyone?”
“Maybe the intercom in that lab just isn’t working,” Benji said.
“I very much doubt it.” Mike pressed the intercom button again and started to repeat his message. “Hello,” was the only word he got out before another voice came over the comm.
“I heard you the first few times. What do you want?”
Mike blinked, taken aback by the eerie, calm sound of the voice. “Well, for starters we’d like you to come out and talk with us face to face.”
“I’m sure you would,” the voice answered. “The question is, if I open the door to this lab, are we going to talk, or are your men going to put a bullet in my head?”
“We mean you no harm.” Mike tried to sound reassuring.
“You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t take your word on that.”
“What’s your name?” Mike asked.
“Kyle.”
“Okay, Kyle. If you don’t come out, we will eventually find a way to open the door or cut through it. Things could go badly for both of us if it comes to that. If you’re afraid we’re military or raiders, we’re not. We’re just people who need a place to stay. We’re simply trying to stay alive like you are.”
“Answer me one thing, Michael Stevenson: have the rats won?”
Mike looked at Benji and Darren, then turned back to the intercom. “Yes, the rats won. We haven’t seen any other survivors or heard any comm. traffic in a long time. I believe the human race is nearly extinct.”
Kyle’s laughter echoed through the intercom’s speakers. “That’s not what I meant. I meant did they win the war?”
Mike glanced at Darren for help, but Darren shrugged.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Mike asked Kyle. “The human race is almost wiped out. I’d call that a victory.”
“Okay,” Kyle said suddenly, struggling to control his amusement. “You’ve convinced me. Tell your people to stand down. I’m coming out.”
In the corridor outside of the lab, Warren, Brent, and Michelle watched as the heavy metal door parted from the wall and slid open. Behind it stood a man who appeared to be in his early thirties. He was thin, and unwashed brown hair topped his head. His features, accentuated by glasses, were narrow and bird–like, yet attractive in a geekish sort of way. He carried himself with an air of confidence that usually came from military training, but his clothes were civilian and dirty, as if they hadn’t been changed in a while.
The man held out his empty hands in front of him. “I come in peace,” he said, grinning. “Take me to your leader.”
Brent and Michelle couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of his statement.
Warren, however, didn’t laugh. “Turn around and put your hands on the wall.”
“Or what? You’ll shoot me? My name is Kyle, by the way. Nice to meet you too, though I didn’t catch your name.”
“It’s Warren. Now I suggest you do as I say before you start to piss me off more than you already have.”
“It figures people like you would survive,” Kyle said, appraising Warren. “You’re a hardcore soldier and trained killer, aren’t you, sport? I know your type.”
Warren gritted his teeth. “I’m not going to ask you again.”
“No, I imagine not.” Kyle turned and placed his hands on the walls, legs spread.
Warren moved in and patted him down for concealed weapons. When he saw that Kyle was clean, he stepped back.
Kyle turned around, looking over Michelle’s body and drinking it in. He bowed to her. “My dear lady, perhaps after the guns are put away I might learn your name.”
Michelle noticed she was still pointing her gun at him and lowered it. “Michelle,” she said apologetically.
Kyle shot a parody of a salute at Warren and said, “If you would be so kind as to lead the way, I believe your boss is waiting on me.”
Warren led Kyle through the complex, leaving Brent and Michelle behind in an attempt to draw attention away from what was going on. So far only a few people knew about Kyle’s presence and Warren wanted to keep it that way until they knew for sure how things would play out. Luckily most people in the group kept to themselves or at least to certain cliques. Originally the convoy group had been so large and so hectically nomadic it was nearly impossible to get to know everyone. People were beginning to loosen up now inside the safety of the base, but still the odds were in Warren’s favor.
He and Kyle only passed a handful of
people on their way to the control room, and no one seemed to notice anything out of place. Warren had left his rifle with Michelle, and his sidearm was nothing out of the ordinary; the group was used to him storming around the base with a gun.
Mike, Darren, and Benji were waiting on them as they entered. Mike stood up from his seat at one of the security consoles and extended his hand to Kyle. “I’m Doctor Michael Stevenson, but please call me Mike.”
Kyle took his hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you, Mike. And who might these gentlemen be?”
Mike introduced Benji as his aide and Darren as the group’s computer specialist, though the title was a bit of an exaggeration. “And you’ve already met Warren,” Mike concluded. “He’s our head of security.”
Kyle chuckled. “I gathered as much.”
Mike offered Kyle a seat and sat down near him. “We’ve got a lot of questions for you, Kyle. How about we start with why you’re here? As far as I know, this base was officially decommissioned when the plague hit, and the operating personnel relocated or were sent out into the field. A single person being left here just doesn’t make sense. A skeleton crew or the sort I could believe, but not one person. Were you stationed here, or did you come here after things went to hell like we did?”
“Or we could start by asking who the hell you are?” Warren butted in. “Your accent doesn’t sound like someone who’s spent a long time in the U.S.”
“Kyle Weathersby,” Kyle said to Warren. He sighed and turned back to Mike. “I imagine you want the long answer. Okay. I am, or rather was, a representative, shall we say, of the British government, dispatched by the United Nations in attempt to discover the fate of the United States. The U.S. was one of the first countries to ‘go silent’ as all hell broke loose around the globe. I set foot upon American soil for the first time twenty-four hours after my government lost contact. I, along with my similarly well-armed associates, quickly found ourselves on the run, fighting for survival, with no way home. Most of the members of my team died in New York. Those of us who made it out lost contact with home.
“We set out for your capital and reached it to join forces with the remains of your leadership, at least those who weren’t already dead or whisked away to a shelter somewhere. One of those survivors was a person of some importance in your C.I.A. He knew of this facility, and a small group of us decided to head for here since home was unreachable and your nation had crumpled. I was the only one to make it here still breathing. I’ve been here ever since, staying alive and using the comm. channels to listen to the fate of the world above.
“I honestly thought I would die down here alone before your group showed up. I had gotten so used to the idea, I hid rather than chance dying at your hands. I couldn’t bring myself to make a stand against you, knowing how rare human life is becoming in the world.” Kyle stopped. “Is that enough of an answer for you or do I need to elaborate?”
“So you’re military?” Warren asked.
Kyle shook his head. “No, I was a field operative. There’s a difference. I was an agent, not a soldier.”
Warren glowered at him.
“Does it really matter?” Mike asked them, taking control of the situation again. “Kyle, you said you had been listening to what was going on out there. Is the rest of the world as bad off as we are here?”
“Do you even know what’s happening?” Kyle asked.
“Are there people still broadcasting?” Darren interrupted.
“No.” Kyle’s voice became flat and cold. “I hadn’t heard anything for a few days before you arrived.”
“So the rats rule everything now?” Mike asked, praying he was wrong about the answer he expected to get.
“No. They’re at war with the other factions of Hell.”
The room fell silent. Kyle felt their eyes burning into him, and finally he continued. “The wolves are still trying to complete their hold of Canada. The squids rule the seas and most of the islands. The bats are facing pockets of human resistance in Russia. The snakes have pacified Asia and are already making strikes against the bats, which hasn’t gone well for them if the human accounts are to be believed. I haven’t heard anything about Australia, and South America has been silent since days after the U.S. fell apart. As to my home, it was holding out against the dead, but the last word I got were my orders to come here.
“The only constant in all of it is the dead. Each group of demons, or whatever one chooses to call them, seems to use the dead as their primary foot soldiers in their secondary war against us. So with the demons at war and humanity nearly gone, I would be forced to say that if anyone ‘rules the world,’ as you put it, it would be the dead.”
Mike leaned close to Kyle. “Stop it. I am sorry for whatever happened to you, but there are no such things as demons. Hell doesn’t exist. Everything that’s happening out there is the combined result of a virus and an aberrant evolutionary spike in the rodent species.”
Kyle held his ground. “Believe what you wish. I don’t care. I’m just telling you what I’ve seen and heard. Hell has been loosed upon the earth, and because of where we are, we are going to die. Maybe not today, maybe not even for a year or two in this base, but we are going to die. Unlike most of the other factions, the rats just want us gone and they’ll stop at nothing until their borders are clear of our infestation.”
“Mike, we’ve all seen those creatures with the rats,” Darren argued. “Warren and some of his crew even nicknamed them demons. He may be telling the truth.”
“Or he may be completely crazy! We have no way to verify who he is or any of his claims.”
Kyle reached into his pocket and slapped down his U.N. identification card in front of Mike. “And I recorded some of the transmissions I spoke of. If you haven’t fired them while jury-rigging the base’s systems, I suggest you listen to them yourselves.”
Warren watched Mike closely. He could see that the man refused to accept anything Kyle had told them, but as much as his own instincts told him not to trust the U.N. agent, Warren had to admit his story had the ring of truth about it. “What do we do, Mike?”
“Lock him up until we figure out what’s really going on.”
“Mike,” Benji interjected, “we can’t do that. He has rights.”
“I’m not suggesting we kill him! I just think we should keep an eye on him until we know he’s not crazy. For his sake and our own.”
Kyle said nothing, resigning himself to the group’s judgment.
“I agree with Benji,” Darren spoke up. “This guy knows this place better than we do. Frankly, we could use his help, and he hasn’t done anything.”
Mike turned to Warren. “I want you to find somewhere to lock this man up and make sure he stays there.”
“Sorry, Mike, they’re right. We need him. If there’s a chance he can get this base fully online and the main doors locked down, he’s a hell of a lot more use to us here than tucked away somewhere. Everyone else deserves to know he’s here as well, and what he knows too. We’re all in this together.”
“Did any of you listen to the crap he claimed was happening? Demons, Hell on Earth—I mean, my God, come on.” He slammed his fist into the console beside him. “He needs to be locked up.”
“Benji,” Warren said, “get the group together for another meeting. I want all of us there, understand?”
Benji nodded, though it pained him to go against Mike.
“And Mr. Higgins, you’re going to stay right here for the moment and help Darren with his work. If you so much as think of doing anything that would put us at risk, I will personally put a bullet through your damn skull.”
Mike threw up his hands. “So that’s it then? I’m out just like that, and you’re all listening to Warren instead of me?”
“Mike, we’re grateful you got us here,” Warren said, stepping closer to him. “No one’s saying we don’t respect you, but rats or no rats, this is still a free country where people get to decide what’s best for them. None of us h
as the right to decide things for this group alone.”
Mike rocked back in his chair. “Fine. Fine. Do what you think you need to do. I won’t stand in your way.”
Warren nodded. “Benji, the meeting…”
Benji leapt up and scurried out of the room, glancing back at Mike as if to say he was sorry.
“Do things always work so smoothly for you guys?” Kyle asked, unable to resist his tendency for dark humor.
Two hours later, the survivors of the convoy gathered into the mess hall. Mike, Warren, and Kyle sat at a table facing the rest of the group. Warren finished explaining who Kyle was, how they’d found him, and what Kyle had told them about the state of the world. “So that’s what we know. Darren has spent the last few hours working on retrieving some of the transmissions Mr. Higgins spoke of. Darren?” Warren motioned for him to start.
“I have rigged the transmissions to play into the room for all of us to hear at the same time,” Darren said, walking over to the room’s intercom panel. “They’re random, and most likely some of them will be garbled, but the base’s computers have translated them into English where needed; this was the best I could do.” Darren punched a button on the intercom and the transmissions began to play.
“To anyone who can hear me, this is Captain Vladimir Nabov of the Soviet Home Guard. Please send assistance. We are cut off and running out of ammunition. The push to free the capital has failed. The main force is broken and shattered. My men and myself have taken shelter inside a cathedral outside of Moscow. Conventional weapons seem to have little effect on the enemy beyond slowing them down. Three of them alone decimated my entire unit with their bare hands, without a single loss to their forces.
“For whatever reason, the creatures themselves will not attack us inside these walls; however, we are far from safe. The bats… the bats come in waves, hundreds at a time, pouring through the shattered windows. So far, we have beaten them each time they’ve tried to overrun us, but we cannot hold on much longer. Please, in the name of God, if you can hear us, we need assistance.”
Season of Rot Page 22