THE FORGIVEN
THE FALLEN
THE FORSAKEN
S.M. Armstrong
COPYRIGHT
Copyright © 2012 by S.M. Armstrong
This is a work of fiction. With one notable exception, any resemblance to actual people is absolutely coincidental. All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
S.M. Armstrong
[email protected]
TABLE OF CONTENTS
COPYRIGHT
PROLOGUE
SEPTEMBER 12th
SHANGHAI, CHINA
LAS VEGAS, NEVADA
FLAGSTAFF, ARIZONA
NOVEMBER 8th
DECEMBER 8th
DECEMBER 31st
FEBRUARY 15th
MAY 27th
JUNE 12th
JUNE 14th
JUNE 30th
JULY 3rd
JULY 20th
JULY 28th
AUGUST 1st
AUGUST 18th
AUGUST 20th
AUGUST 29th
SEPTEMBER 1st,
SEPTEMBER 17th
OCTOBER 7th
OCTOBER 18th
NOVEMBER 1st
FEBRUARY 14th
FEBRUARY 26th
FEBRUARY 28th
MARCH 7th
MARCH 14th
CATALINA ISLAND, CALIFORNIA
MAY 23rd
EPILOG
PROLOGUE
The wind across the water and snow was excruciating, but ducking into a warm shop wasn't an option. He was even later than usual and his task was essential to the jihad effort. Franz walked stiffly through the back streets of Amsterdam, painfully aware of the importance of his delivery. It would cost him, but he knew that the effort was worth the discomfort. Still, he was worried.
The disheveled engineering student had been told that the Sheik was furious, but the equipment was more difficult to manufacture than anyone realized and the product took much longer to grow than was expected. Tonight, he would accept the wrath of the Sheik, but the virus was ready and no one could take that away from him. He put his head down and pushed on into the cold night.
Franz had converted to Islam during three years ago, at a time when his entire life had imploded. He had lost everything and had been near suicidal when the Mullah had taken him in and forced him away from heroin. As Franz had opened himself to Allah, he found that his life turned around. Eventually, he even came to understand the rightness of jihad, and it had paid off. Today, for one moment, he was at the absolute center of the fight. He would not fail. If only he weren't so late.
Trying to shave some time, he took a short cut that he normally avoided. If necessary, he thought he could outrun any problems, and he knew that Allah would protect him. On this night, he was wrong.
A youth walking the other direction said something and as he looked that way, another one stepped into him and delivered a solid left hook punch to his temple from behind. With his hands in his pockets to keep them warm, Franz never had a chance. By the time he hit the ground, he had three of them kicking him and screaming something at him, but his mind was no longer processing the words. He felt the glass vials in his coat pocket break and cut deeply into him. He knew now that he would live only if Allah willed it. With one final kick to the base of his skull, the youths took his wallet and ran off, laughing.
He woke in a hospital bed with police there trying to talk to him. They acted caring, but he knew they hated him for his devoutness. That was as it should be. He hated them for their evil infidel ways and he absolutely despised the female nurses who defiled him. The only peace he had was in knowing that, Allah willing, they would all be dead soon.
He slid into unconsciousness and lived on a ventilator for 12 more days.
The first staff members didn’t show signs of the virus until three days after he had died.
TWO MONTHS EARLIER, UTAH
SEPTEMBER 12th
The rust colored mountains of Escalante were spectacular. When Jim’s brother-in-law insisted on Utah for their shared vacation this year, Jim thought he was nuts. Now he understood. It was the kind of place where one could forget modern life for a while. It was perfect.
Jim breathed in deeply, enjoying the fresh smell of cedar and pine trees. They were staying at an Airstream resort that boasted rows of Airstream trailers used by movie stars from decades before. It was hip in a way that few things were these days, with a mixture of sophistication and back to nature that was rare these days.
To complete the feeling of a time warp, there were several classic convertible cars set up in small drive-in movie theater. Watching classic movies in a fifty five year old Ford Thunderbird with the top down was a peculiar and rejuvenating experience, Jim had to admit.
Over the past few days, they had been all over southern Utah, from Zion to Brice, to Monument Valley. It had been breathtaking at every turn. Jim and Susan agreed that this was one of the best vacations they had every taken. Both were surprised to discover how vibrant the state was. At least until it was time to find a bar, Jim thought with a chuckle.
Susan’s brother, Rob Mullins, and his wife, Denise, were also taken with the resort and the drive-in. For tonight's film they were in a beautiful black 1961 Lincoln Continental and loving the experience every bit as much as Jim and Susan.
Rob was Susan’s brother and was close to 50, but still ran marathons. His hair was thinning and more of his scalp might have been showing than in years past, but he still thought he looked hip with the graying goatee. Denise was a matronly blond and looked like a 40-something mom, with maybe a little too much chunk here and there, but not obese. She was an accountant who worked very hard to avoid talking about work if at all possible, which was appreciated by all.
This had been a great trip. They would be leaving the next morning, but intended to make full use of this final evening sipping drinks on the wooden deck next to the Cary Grant Airstream.
By the time Jim and Susan arrived there, Rob already had the BBQ fired up and was starting dinner. They chatted, drank, and joked through the next couple of hours or so. It was perfect.
Jim stood and said, “Rob, you sorry ass excuse for a brother in law. That was some of the finest barbeque I’ve ever had in my entire life, but your margarita mixing skills suck. I mix the next round.” Jim walked over to the table and prepared to work blender magic.
“Hey, Jim, you can’t water down a margarita with more tequila, even if it is top shelf,” Rob answered.
Jim looked down at him with disdain and asked, “Who told you that?” Rob could only laugh harder.
Their wives both exited the Airstream and sat in the patio chairs. It was the perfect ending for the perfect vacation.
Rob said to Jim and Susan, “This trip has been amazing. Thank you for letting me twist your arms into it.” Before they could protest, he added, “Yes, you know I did. It’s okay to admit it because I’m about to do it again.”
Susan said, “You can’t borrow my underwear again. I don’t care how much you ask.”
Denise piped in, “Uh, Rob, is there something you’re not telling me?”
Unflustered, Rob said, “It was a high school gag and I needed a pair of girls’ underwear to pull it off.” To Susan, he said, “Can’t you just take it as a complement of your choice of undergarments?”
Jim interrupted, “
I don’t know. They’re not all that comfortable,” said Jim as he wiggled around like his underwear was chafing.
Susan looked horrified. Denise fell out of her chair and howled with laughter.
Once equilibrium was more or less regained, Rob wiped the tears from his eyes and said, “I wanted a final normal vacation first, but I’ve got to be serious for a while. Okay, I’ve put it off as long as I can. You know I can’t say much about my work.”
Susan rolled her eyes and said, “Sure thing, Double-Oh-Seven.”
Rob smiled sadly and said, “I only wish it were that interesting.”
Jim put down his drink and said, “Okay, so say it already.”
Jim’s normally jovial brother in law transformed in front of their eyes to a person with different posture, expressions, and presence. Even the voice was different. “I work special projects for the Department of Defense. All of your lives are going to be different from here on out.”
Jim noticed that Susan appeared more uncomfortable than he had ever seen her.
Rob looked at Jim and Susan's confused expressions and said, “A couple of months ago my team was removed from a case tracking samples of a weaponized virus. The Chinese altered a nasty strain of bird flu so that we have no real defense against it, and are now vaccinating their people against it."
Jim said, “Oh, shit.”
"It's worse than that. They have turned it over to the Iranian government."
Denise stopped pacing and sat down. She said, "Those morons will release it no matter what."
Rob nodded and said, “The Chinese plan to have the Muslims take the blame, then step in and take over the world after the flu kills off the rest of us."
Susan asked, "This is over the top, Rob. The government will do something about it."
“I'm telling you, it won't. There is a well organized conspiracy that is determined to stymie the entire political system and military leadership until it's too late, and that is exactly what they are doing. They are planning a coup to take over afterwards."
"I don't see how that can happen. What good does it do them?" said Susan.
Rob paused and took an angry breath. "If you want to reengineer society, it helps to have a smaller, traumatized, and more compliant population to work with. They're looking at it as thinning the herd. Those jackals would rather rule over a small number of survivors than to live as equals with a large number."
"You're kidding me," said Jim.
"How many people believed Hitler's goons would accomplish what they did?" Rob paused to let that sink in.
"Listen to me," said Rob. "I’m being kept on a very tight leash and we're being watched for any sign of leaks or preparations.” The strong exterior cracked for a moment. “I desperately need you two to help prepare for us as well, but if they find out that you're helping, you'll be stopped or killed." The others were silent.
Rob set down his drink and said, "The short of it is that this will be the worst human catastrophe in centuries and we're going to be stuck watching the train wreck, even knowing about it ahead of time.”
Susan said, "So we go to the press."
"Do you think I haven't tried that? The last reporter I told was dead less than twelve hours after I fed her the story," said Rob.
"Okay then," said Susan, "We put it on the internet."
"It would get shut down and you would be disappeared within a day."
Denise exploded. “And you think now is the best time to tell me all of this?!”
Rob looked at her, “I’m sorry, Denise. It’s going to be hard enough acting like you don’t know from here on out.”
"This isn't the sort of thing that you spring on people on vacation. This is like taking the kids for ice cream to tell them that the dog died," said Denise.
"Okay. In retrospect, maybe that wasn't the best call," said Rob. "But I need you to trust me for now. I'll give you as much information as I have when I can."
No one else spoke at first. Eventually, Susan asked, “So how screwed are we?”
Rob answered, “Like Small Pox to the Native Americans, except this time it will be everybody."
Jim shuddered. "That's crazy."
"Our best case scenario is that it is so virulent that it burns itself out quickly, but there’s almost no chance of that. Most likely is six months to a year to come up with a vaccine.
Susan frowned and asked, “How sure is it that we'll see this flu?”
Rob‘s expression hardened, “One hundred percent.”
There was silence for a moment before Rob spoke again. "It looks like a common cold at first. Spreads through respiratory droplets with a seven to ten day incubation period. Extremely contagious well before the victims actually look sick.”
"How the hell do you know all of this?" asked Jim.
"Mostly, we got lucky. We slipped an agent inside during the development and testing phases."
Denise glared, “And you kept this quiet for the entire trip.”
Rob barked at her. “I'm sorry, Denise. We needed it to look like a real vacation both in our actions and on our credit cards. We're being watched.”
“This is a lot to swallow,” Jim said. “It will take a little time to get used to the idea. You’re really sure?" Rob just looked at him. "Okay, I know you are. What kind of lethality are we talking about?”
"Best estimates are eighty to ninety percent."
"Jesus, Rob! That's the end of civilization! That's the end of life as we know it," said Jim.
Susan asked numbly, “So, Rob, now that you’ve scared the shit out of us, what’s the plan? And I agree with Denise; your timing sucks.”
Rob smiled grimly as he answered. “Your Arizona ranch will come in handy.” Turning to Denise, he said, “Could you get that box I brought?”
As Denise left, Rob looked back at Jim. “I have some flash drives for you, a rough game plan, and I’ve put together half a million in cash to help you get started. Expect more money later, but try to make do for now. I'll guide you as to what we need, but Arizona is your show. There are also a few printed copies of documents that I’m going to let you read tonight and I’ll have to burn afterward.”
Jim grimaced. “What’s the short version?”
Rob rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Figure on up to a year for the virus to burn itself out or for a vaccine to be available. I'm thinking in terms of a small village of people. Maybe thirty. I’m planning to bring in a group I’ve worked with over the years and their families but if you have people you want to include, be careful what you tell them, keep it small, and remember that food, water, and weather are going to be the biggest problems, then sanitation, transportation, and security." Rob gestured at the Airstreams around them. "I'm thinking a small RV village may be the way to go."
Denise brought the box out of the RV. "This is insane! You're putting us in the middle of some lousy disaster movie."
"I wish to hell it were a movie." He turned back to Jim and Susan. “Liquidate everything you can because your retirement won’t be worth spit this time next year. If you can sell your house and move to your ranch, do it."
"You mean our trailer park?" said Susan.
"Our job is going to be to help distribute the vaccine once it's available and minimize the damage as much as possible. Other groups are being placed all over the country. It's important."
“EMP may be a problem at some point, so we’ll need to have Faraday cages prepared for storage of electronics." Rob reached back and lightly slapped the Airstream trailer behind him and said, "Cover the openings, including the base, with aluminum sheeting and you have a reasonable cage. Metal garages and spare parts storage for vehicles too. I’ve included plans on the flash drives. Believe me, Susan, we're going to be very happy for trailers before the end.”
"What am I supposed to do, sitting around, knowing about this, and being totally unable to prepare?" asked Denise.
"We do what we can quietly, but it's too important to chance having the other side
step in and cut us off short," said Rob.
Denise opened the file box and she, Jim, and Susan spent the next few hours looking for flaws in Rob’s analysis, but were having a difficult time finding any. They all argued with him anyway, not wanting to believe.
Jim said, "This is so crazy that I don't know what to think."
"Someone coming at you with a knife is pretty crazy too, but that wouldn't stop you from getting the hell out of the way," said Rob. “Look, you’re in or out, but I need to know tonight.”
Jim looked to Susan for a nod and answered, “You better know what you’re doing. Yeah, we’re in.”
Denise asked, “Robert, where the hell did that money come from?”
“Slush fund, complements of Saddam Hussein. Relax, it doesn’t exist. There’s no record of it anywhere and the only people who know about it will be with us.” Denise looked skeptical, but said she was satisfied.
SEPTEMBER 13th
Rob’s final advice before they left for home was to be careful on who they invited in, and to tackle food and water storage first.
Rob and Denise departed first, leaving Jim and Susan to spend a little more time cleaning up and checking out of the Airstream resort. Susan said, “You know, I didn’t believe him until the cheap bastard pulled out that box of cash? What the hell are we going to do?”
He kissed her on her forehead, enjoying the smell of her jet black hair and wrapped his arms around her waist before answering, “The best we can and hope that blowing our retirement is the least of our problems.”
LAS VEGAS & FLAGSTAFF
LATE SEPTEMBER
Jim gave a two week notice that he would be leaving his job as a paramedic. He had wanted to keep it longer, but he discovered that he couldn’t cash out the 401K until he left. The hard part was the guilt at not being able to tell everyone what was coming. That it was made clear that they wanted him back any time made it feel even worse.
The most difficult thing for him was closing the martial arts school he had run part time for the past nine years. He explained everything he could to his students and offered them a place at the ranch if they chose. As he expected, none of them could take him up on it, but they would prepare however they could.
The Forgiven The Fallen The Forsaken Page 1