by Jeff Olah
Sitting back in his chair and rubbing his temples, Mason said, “Why do I need to know this? I thought you were going to handle it.”
“You never know, I think it may be good for us all to be familiar with this place.”
“OK, sure, but I think our first priority is that corridor and where it leads. Is there anything on these computers that references it?”
“That’s the other reason I brought you here. Almost every one of the programs on the tablet are duplicated on the servers here within Blackmore. Even the filing system and the way things are named. My guess is that Marcus Goodwin had it built that way for easy reference. His men could access this place remotely any time they wanted to and it appears they were doing so without being tracked.”
“What do you mean?”
“Even when the tablet is logged into the system, I can’t trace it from the computers here. It’s like a ghost program.”
“I think you’ve officially lost me,” Mason said.
“Basically I believe Goodwin knew one day he’d come back here and wanted to do it without being seen or heard. He wanted the element of surprise… and one other thing.”
“Yeah?”
“The only way to access the tunnel from this side is through the tablet. I think it was Goodwin’s fail safe. There is no sign of it or any if its video feeds on the servers here.”
Standing, Mason moved to the corner of the room. “Is there a way to secure it so it can never be…?”
Before Mason could finish, their attention was turned to Savannah standing in the hall waving them both over and from the frantic nature, it appeared urgent. Mason reached the door first and moved into the hall. “Hey, is everything alright?”
Clearly out of breath, Savannah said, “You’re needed at the front gate. Randy said we have company.”
. . .
The sun rapidly escaping the day, Mason and William moved quickly and cautiously across the courtyard, weapons in hand. They were keeping one eye on Randy who stood atop the stack of pallets he’d assemble as a makeshift observation tower. Without turning, he addressed Mason. “We’ve got a truck with what looks to be two survivors. They pulled straight up to the gates like they knew someone was already here.”
“Who are they?” Mason asked.
“Don’t know, you wanna check it out?”
. . .
"Megan, I think we're here."
Pulled away from the flashbacks her mind was generating, Megan realized she was dreaming. The false images from months after the infection upended reality. She dreamt of sitting with her father discussing the likelihood that there were areas safe from the infection. As her memory began to fade, the voice of her brother brought her back to reality. "Sean, where are we?"
"At the end of the map, I think I got us to the right place, although it doesn't look like we're very welcome."
Her eyes began to focus, her head pounding as the gate came clear. "This is it. Why didn't you wake me earlier?"
"Doesn't really matter, especially with that guy pointing a rifle at us.
. . .
Handing his weapon to William, Mason made the short climb and with one look at the truck he instantly laid his hand over Randy’s rifle, motioning for him to lower it. “Randy, they’re kids, open the gate and let them in. I’ll make sure they aren’t a threat.”
Guiding the truck onto the grounds, Sean lowered the driver’s window and came to a stop twenty yards from the gate. Mason approached and introduced himself. The siblings assured Mason and more importantly Randy, who held tight to his weapon, that although they had a pistol in the truck, they had no intention of even removing it from the bag it rested in.
“One at a time,” Randy told Mason. “Bring them out one at a time.”
Moving to the driver’s door, Mason asked Sean what they were doing at Blackmore. “There is no way you ended up here by accident.”
Megan spoke before her brother had a chance, “My name is Megan and this is Sean, our father sent us here. Sean, give him the map.”
Looking over the hand drawn map, Mason gave it to Randy and was interrupted by Sean. “Sir, can you help my sister, we’ve been through hell over the past two weeks, and she’s been shot.”
“Not really shot,” Megan said. “More like grazed. I’ll be fine.”
Glancing back at Eleanor, who’d decided to forego meeting the new arrivals, Mason then hurried to the passenger side and opened the door. Her left side from hip to ankle was covered in dried blood. She left out a whimper as Mason helped her to her feet and nodded for William to ask the young boy to exit the truck.
The group helped the newcomers into Building One and Savannah tended to Megan’s injuries as Mason showed Sean to the kitchen. As the others filed in, Megan plowed through the meal placed in front of her and only slowed momentarily to ask for seconds.
“Your father sent you here?” Mason asked.
“Yes, he told me to find Mr. Daniels… that he would help us.”
The room went silent.
“What’s the matter?” Megan asked.
Putting aside the bottled water, Mason said, “Major Daniels is gone. How did your father know him? Did he work here?”
“I think so,” Sean said.
“My father told us we’d be safe here. Can we stay?” Megan asked.
Pulling a chair up at the opposite end of the table, Mason sat between the brother and sister. “Megan, who is your dad, what did he do here?”
“My father is Eugene Lockwood; I don’t think he’s worked out of this location for some time. According to the second map we have, he’s in Nevada at some place called Silo Nine.”
Randy nearly dropped the plate of fruit he was working his way through. “Your father is Dr. Lockwood?”
“Yes,” they said in unison.
Randy pressed on. “How on earth is it possible that he’s in Silo Nine? He died over four months ago.”
“Excuse me sir, but I talked to him on the phone the morning that all this went down. He said Mr. Daniels would know what to do, that he would send someone to get him and bring him here. He said he could fix what happened to the world.”
Turning to Mason, Randy nodded in agreement. “I knew he wasn’t gone… Sean, I’m going to get your dad and I’m going to bring him back here.”
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Table of Contents
Copyright
Contents
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