H.A.L.F.: The Makers

by Natalie Wright

  She pushed through the doors and flipped the switches on the back wall. A bank of overhead fluorescents flickered on. This room, at least, looked exactly as it had. Rows of tables with round stools built in. It smelled of food, not antiseptic, and Erika figured they were still using it to feed people.

  Erika had almost always packed her lunch. Being a vegan, most food that the cafeteria made was full of meat and dairy. But she was starving and wasn’t about to be choosy. She scoured the refrigerator and found a vat of leftover chili. She heaped it into a paper bowl with a ladle and microwaved it just long enough that it wasn’t cold. It tasted as bad as it smelled. Erika wondered how people ate the stuff week after week when a sane person would be warned off it after the first bite. But she shoveled it in and tried to mask the flavor with a handful of saltines crushed into the bowl.

  She knew she should let the chili settle before assaulting her starving stomach with more food, but it still rumbled with hunger. Erika opened cabinets and rifled through boxes and packages, searching for something that looked edible. Finding nothing, she went back to the refrigerator and pulled out a large brick of leftover meatloaf and a container of mashed potatoes.

  The cafeteria special was spinning on the rotating micro plate, getting zapped to warmth, when the door opened. Erika was raiding the school cafeteria’s food supplies without paying for it in the middle of the night. Her instinct was to hide. But she had nowhere to go. She stood at the counter with a spoon full of peanut butter in her mouth, waiting for her third course.

  Dr. Randall sauntered in. His eyes were rimmed in red and he looked even more tired than he had when they arrived. “Ah, Erika, I thought it may be you in here raiding the food stores.”

  She was relieved to see him. She pulled the spoon out of her mouth and said hello. Her mouth was still full of peanut butter, so it came out as ‘pho-ro’. She held the jar out toward Dr. Randall. “Want some?”

  “Oh my, yes. And I’d like some bread with mine if you can find any.” He hovered on the other side of the counter across from her. His eyes lit up with excitement like a child on Christmas morning. “Do you think they have jelly too?”

  Erika opened a cupboard and pulled out an industrial-size loaf of white bread and slapped it on the counter and found a knife and some grape jelly. “Here you go. A feast fit for a king. Is Tex here?”

  “Yes. He’s stabilized and sleeping soundly at the moment.”

  The timer rang on the microwave, and by the time she had the plate pulled from the tiny oven, Dr. Randall had already devoured half a sandwich. “Best PB&J I’ve ever had.”

  Erika doubted it was anything more than just edible, but she knew what he meant.

  They moved their feast to the nearest table. Dr. Randall ate two more sandwiches and drank half a gallon of milk without saying a word. They chewed noisily, neither of them bothering to be polite about it.

  Finally satiated, Dr. Randall pushed back from the table a bit. “How is Ian coming along?”

  Erika drank the rest of the water she’d poured herself. “He’s doing well. Much improved, I’d say. He says they told him he’d make a full recovery. No permanent liver, heart or brain damage.”

  “Ah, wonderful. That’s good news, anyway.”

  Erika raised an eyebrow at him. “Have you gotten bad news?”

  Dr. Randall wiped his patchy beard with a paper napkin and belched. “The situation is worse than I feared. I met with Dr. Montoya. She says that this is ground zero, but before they got a lid on it, the virus spread. There have been outbreaks in all major cities and towns in Arizona as well as several in California, Nevada, New Mexico and, most alarming of all, there have been reported cases in Mexico and as far away as Europe and China. Apparently the Chinese government denies claims of the outbreak, but reports that have gotten out confirm it’s the same illness.”

  Erika pulled the vials from between her breasts. She’d nearly forgotten it was there. “Did you tell them about this?”

  Dr. Randall shook his head. “Put that back,” he whispered.

  “What? This will save lives, Dr. Randall. They need to know about this. Now.”

  Dr. Randall looked behind them then turned back to her. “Shh. Put it back.” He pushed it toward Erika. His eyes were wild.

  Erika had suspected from the start that Dr. Randall was bat-shit crazy, but she’d mainly ignored it. But now she couldn’t. He was off the deep end.

  “I don’t know what your problem is, but we brought this back for a reason. It may be the only thing that keeps millions of people from dying. I’m not going to keep it hidden in my bra for the rest of my life.”

  “I know that. I’m not asking you to. But this operation is compromised. I was not able to speak freely to Dr. Montoya. We can’t allow it to get into the wrong hands.”

  Erika’s voice rose with her exasperation. “What are you talking about?”

  “The Makers. They’ve got men here. They tried to get to Tex earlier, but the doctors shooed them away. And they were there when I met with Dr. Montoya. I regret I had to be quite vague with her and was unable to provide the help she needs.”

  “You’ve lost me, Doc. Who are the Makers? You’re not making sense.”

  Dr. Randall again looked behind him and lowered his voice. “I can’t explain right now. But you have to trust me. If the Makers get their hands on the antiviral, they won’t use it to help mankind.”

  “Who are they? Why wouldn’t they help people with it?”

  “Profit and self-preservation are their only motives. It’s a long story, Erika, but suffice it to say that they’re behind the H.A.L.F. program, A.H.D.N.A. and Aphthartos. It’s all for their own agenda. Need I say more?”

  No, he didn’t have to say more. Anyone responsible for what had been done to Tex for all those years and for building that awful place was not anyone Erika could trust.

  Dr. Randall continued. “It’s not safe here for Tex. The Makers know he’s here. It’s only a matter of time before Croft descends on this place and takes Tex away from me.”

  “Why do they want him?”

  “We – Commander Sturgis and myself – were told that he – the hybrids – were to protect humans from the greys. Our goal was to create a small battalion that would be able to match their telepathic and telekinetic powers and, unlike the Conexus, they would have at least a bit more resistance to humidity, giving them an extra edge. The hybrids were, so we thought, going to be used in key installations to protect the highest-level government assets.”

  “That’s what you were told. But that wasn’t true?”

  Dr. Randall shook his head. “Far from it. I learned that William Croft, head of the Makers, had planned for the hybrids to be his personal bodyguards – and guards for the rest of the Makers. And Aphthartos was not created to house high-level government officials but to be the underground bunker for the chosen elite handpicked by Mr. Croft.”

  “And you tried to stop them?”

  “Yes. I was going to go public with it all. My mistake was informing Lilly.”

  “Sturgis ratted you out.”

  “She did. But, to her credit, she didn’t have me killed, as Croft ordered. Instead she placed me in a sort of house arrest.”

  “How big of her.” Erika’s mouth still filled with bile whenever she thought of the woman that had ordered her to be killed for no reason other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  Dr. Randall shrugged. “History will judge her, not I. In any event, we cannot allow Tex to fall into Croft’s hands. He’ll …” Dr. Randall’s eyes misted.

  Erika put a hand on his. “Go on.”

  “Croft – the Makers – they won’t respect Tex’s humanity. He’s nothing more than a commodity to them. That’s why I helped Tex escape in the first place. To keep him out of Croft’s hands. I can’t let Croft take him.”

  Erika agreed with Dr. Randall. This Croft guy sounded like a complete psychopath. “But this place is crawling with military. Th
ey won’t let this Croft guy just waltz in here and take him.”

  Dr. Randall’s eyes were frantic. “You don’t understand. Some of these military people are working for the Makers. It goes as high up as General Bardsley, that much I know. We’ve got to get Tex out of this place. The sooner the better.”

  Erika didn’t know who Croft was, but she hadn’t traveled through time and space to save Tex only to have some jerk imprison him again. “I’ll do whatever it takes to help him. You know that.”

  Dr. Randall nodded. “I’m counting on you.” He put his other hand on top of hers. His eyes misted again.

  “You sound like you don’t mean to leave with us.”

  He shook his head. “Can’t.”

  “Why not? Get the antiviral to Dr. Montoya on the QT then we blow this joint. Together. With the antiviral, Dr. Montoya will be able to reverse engineer it and get it out to the public, like you said.”

  He shook his head more strenuously and snuffed snot up his nose. “You’ll have to soldier on without me.” He looked her in the eye. “My blood test came back this afternoon. Even though I’m asymptomatic at this time, I’m infected. So, you see, I can’t …”

  Erika took in a sharp breath. “Oh, Dr. Randall.” Fresh tears spilled over her lids. He was right, of course. He couldn’t leave and risk infecting every person he came into contact with. “You need to take some of the antiviral. Inject yourself.” Erika reached for the vials tucked in her bra.

  “No.” He pushed it back toward her. “That’s too precious to use on an old worn-out guy like me. Dr. Montoya will need all of it. Look, Erika, don’t worry about me. I’ve got time, and with my help, maybe Dr. Montoya will decipher the formula before … What’s important now is that you get yourself and Tex out of this place.”

  Erika nodded. “I will, but first I have to find my mom and Jack. You haven’t seen a patient list by any chance, have you?”

  He shook his head.

  “Are there patients in any buildings besides the gymnasium?”

  “Yes. The really sick ones are tucked here and there in the classrooms. They have Tex in one of those – across the quad on the other side. I think it was a Spanish class based on the things on the walls.”

  “I know where you’re talking about. Okay, I have to go check the rooms, see if I can find my mom or Jack. And I’ll check in with Tex after I’m done.”

  Dr. Randall nodded. “We’ll need to make a plan for you to leave with him soon. Likely tomorrow night. Hopefully the rest of Croft’s goon squad won’t show up before then. I’ll go stand guard on him.”

  “Wait.” Erika pulled the packet of antiviral from inside her shirt and palmed it. She took Dr. Randall’s hand and placed the packet in his palm and closed his fingers over it. “Get this to Dr. Montoya.”

  Dr. Randall put it in his pants pocket. “I will.”

  Erika rose and stretched her arms overhead. The sleep and food had her feeling more like herself than she had in a long time.

  They left the cafeteria together. Dr. Randall made his way back to Tex while Erika went in the opposite direction in search of people she loved. As much as she longed to see them, she hoped she didn’t find them there.

  45

  JACK

  Jack had his left arm wrapped around Alecto’s narrow legs, pinning her to his chest. “If you have the strength to use your telekinesis, now’d be a good time,” Jack said. The men Harris had sent to take care of him had entered the outer room.

  She showed no recognition that she heard him.

  I think I’m on my own.

  He searched the room with his eyes for a place to hide. Behind the door was no use. The wall was opaque glass, but his body would make a visible shadow.

  There was nothing to hide behind. Jack planted his feet, straightened himself as best he could while carrying the sack of Alecto on his shoulder, took a deep breath and held the gun in his right hand while he steadied Alecto with his left. Unless the guards were ace shots, they’d have to risk shooting Alecto to get to him. He had to think they’d been told not to harm her.

  A shadowy silhouette materialized through the glass wall on the left side of the door. A few seconds later another shape appeared on the right. Their guns were up.

  A deep, commanding voice boomed. “Leave it there, on the table. Come out with your hands up.” The man’s voice bounced off the glass and concrete in the sparsely furnished anteroom.

  “‘It’ has a name. And no, I’m not leaving her here. I suggest you stand down or you’ll end up like your buddies out there.” Even in poker Jack sucked at bluffing. This time was no exception. His voice came out pitchy.

  “You’re in way over your head.” The guard on the left peered around the door. His eyes widened. “Drop the weapon, son. Lay the gun and your package down on the table and you’ll just get a little prison time instead of going out in a body bag.”

  Jack kept his gun raised. “We both know there’s no chance they’ll let me leave here alive.”

  The guard didn’t argue against it. He stepped across the threshold and faced Jack. “I don’t want to shoot you, but I will. Now put the gun down.” The guard’s voice was raised with anger.

  Jack’s hand ached from the effort of holding the revolver steady. He smelled his own sweat as it beaded on his upper lip. “I think I’ll keep hold of it, thank you.”

  “I’m a class A marksman, son. You do not want to test me.” The man’s voice had a nervous edge to it, but his hands were steady.

  Jack’s hands were not steady. The gun was a heavy, useless weight in his trembling hand. He wanted to drop Alecto so he could use his left hand to steady his right. He feared what would happen when he took a shot and got knocked about by the recoil.

  A bead of sweat dripped from his brow into his eye. The salty drop stung his eye. He blinked rapidly.

  “Last chance, kid. Drop it.” The guard took another slow step toward him.

  It was like the man had unknowingly stepped on a triggering mechanism for a trap. His step activated Jack’s adrenaline.

  Jack pulled the trigger without hesitation. The semiautomatic fired three rounds in quick succession before Jack eased the pressure on the trigger. The silencer muffled the explosion of gunfire. There was only the sound of the bullets disturbing the air as they hurtled toward the guard.

  One of the bullets managed to hit the guy. He looked down at his left chest pocket, where blood blossomed and stained his shirt crimson. He slowly looked up at Jack, his mouth open in surprise. His hand quivered and he dropped his gun. His body slumped to the floor.

  The other guard had moved behind the first without Jack noticing it. As soon as the first guard’s body hit the ground, Jack was met with another gun pointed in his direction. The man kept his gun raised. “Don’t move,” he said.

  Jack’s trigger finger was on autopilot. His hand quavered, but he shot anyway. He fired round after round. The glass walls beside the guard shattered, raining glass shards down on him and spraying him with shard projectiles. The man instinctively covered his head with his hands, trying to shield himself.

  Jack kept firing as he moved closer. One of his bullets finally found its mark, and the man’s body jerked back from the blow to his thigh.

  The guard barely acknowledged the bullet lodged in his leg. He grimaced and fired. Jack’s brain registered the explosion of a gun blast before it recognized that the man had pulled his trigger. The man wasn’t a much better shot than Jack, but one of his bullets managed to graze Jack’s right shoulder.

  Now I have matching gunshot wounds in my shoulders.

  Fiery fingers of pain erupted in Jack’s shoulder. Blood soaked his shirt. Alecto began to slip from his shoulder, and he winced as he hoisted her back up.

  The pain made the tremor in his gun arm worse. But the searing heat of the wound only ratcheted up his fight response. Jack didn’t think or aim. He continued to fire round after round. He managed to hit the man’s arm, forcing him to drop his gun.<
br />
  The guard muttered curses under his breath as he held his wounded right hand with his left. “You son of a –”

  Jack advanced on him. “If you have someone or something to live for, you should stay here and play dead. My colleague and I brought enough Zissnine to wipe out a battalion of men. It’s a nasty way to die. Ask your friends on the floor out there.”

  But the warning fell on deaf ears. The man straightened and stood his ground between Jack and the door. His left hand moved slowly, barely perceptible in the dim light. But the flicker of movement caught Jack’s eye as the guard reached behind him.

  “Sorry ’bout this. I really am,” Jack said. He fired a shot at the man’s chest. Even though his arm shook like crazy, he was now only a few feet away. Even he could hit his mark at this distance.

  There was only the fft sound of the silencer and the thump of the guard’s body meeting the floor. Jack allowed his arm to drop. His muscles calmed their twitching, glad of the brief rest.

  Jack stepped over the man’s body without looking down. Best not to accumulate any more memories of the faces of men he’d killed.

  46

  ERIKA

  Erika pulled open door after door in her search for her mom and Jack. She tried to be quiet. It was still the middle of the night. In the still of night, the click of closing doors thundered and echoed off the bricks and concrete.

  As she turned the corner to enter the math department pod, she saw two men in black uniforms carrying rifles. Instinctively, she quickly tucked back into the shadows and splayed herself flat against the brick wall. One of them glanced in her direction and stopped, but when he heard no more movement, they continued on toward the Spanish department. Erika’s heart raced, but it dawned on her that she had no reason to run or hide from them. She wasn’t in A.H.D.N.A. or Tro any longer. She shook her head at herself. Get a grip, Erika. She wondered how long it would take for her to stop feeling so jittery and fearful every time she saw someone carrying a gun or wearing a black uniform.

  Erika went to what used to be the math department, her least favorite area of the school. The pod was quiet, and three of the four rooms in the quadrangle were dark. The fourth had a dim light emanating from inside.