The Death: Extinction
Page 8
“I won’t hurt you; I was just checking some of your vitals.”
She sat up and pulled her legs up and, using her arms, hugged them. “How long have I been asleep?”
“Well, you passed out yesterday afternoon and have been asleep till now, so about seventeen hours.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’m curing you.”
“Why?”
He paused before answering because he didn’t know how to. Unable to find the right response, he asked, “Are you hungry?”
She nodded.
“I have some prepackaged food. How about some spaghetti or chicken à la king?”
Her eyes darted around the lab. She was scanning her whereabouts again, no doubt looking for the two assistants.
“You’re safe. Please believe me,” Mueller stressed.
“I came here with my brother. Where is he?”
This was another question that he paused on. Not because he didn’t have the answer, but because he did know and the answer was her brother was dead and the reason why was him. Not wanting to upset her, he lied, “I’m not sure. I have treated many people.”
“He was in here with me. I saw you treating him, but then I don’t remember much after that.”
“What does he look like?” Mueller asked, faking a concerned appearance.
“He’s short, skinny with black hair, it’s curly, and he had a slight beard.”
“I think I do remember him.”
“Where is he?”
“We were treating him here, but…I’m so sorry, but unfortunately he didn’t make it.”
The news struck her hard. She tucked her head between her knees and began to cry.
“I’m so very sorry.” A deep-seated uncomfortable feeling enveloped him. His hands began to shake badly. It felt like he was about to have an anxiety attack. Not wanting her to see him this way, he said, “If you’ll excuse me.” He raced back to his office and shut the door. Chewing his fingernails as he rapidly paced the office, he mumbled one question after another. “What are you doing? What exactly do you think is going to happen here?” He caught his reflection in a mirror and stopped. He leaned in until his face filled it and peered into his dark eyes. “How do you see this ending, hmm?”
A tap on his office door jolted him back. His eyes darted over first followed by his head then his body; he slowly walked over and opened it up. To his surprise the woman was standing there, holding her IV bag.
“Is everything okay?”
Mueller wanted to laugh because here was a woman who not two days ago was about to die from a deadly virus asking him how he was doing. “Um, I’m good. Sorry I took off, but I didn’t feel well.”
“Oh, ugh, you mentioned some food. I’m really hungry.”
He looked at her standing there, frail and gaunt. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry, how rude of me.” He squeezed by her and made his way towards a storeroom. Seconds later he came back with an MRE, a meal ready to eat, prepackaged meal. He found her back at her bed, and just before he handed it over, he double-checked to see if he had gotten the correct one. “Good, it’s spaghetti with meat sauce. Ha, I hope you’re not a vegetarian.”
She took it and opened it quickly.
“I was going to suggest a better way to open the packet, but you seem to know what you’re doing.”
“I’ve eaten hundreds of these while in the camp.”
“How do you feel?”
“Tired.”
“I am sorry about your brother.”
His comment made her pause. She stopped chewing and put the packet down. With a mouth full of food, she replied, “Thanks for trying to help him.”
Her responses indicated that her memory wasn’t complete. Curious and nervous he asked, “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“It’s all kinda vague, patchy.”
“Do you remember getting sick?” he asked and took a seat in the chair next to her bed.
She looked at him then began to look around.
“What are you looking for?”
“This room, I remember two other men. At least I think, I’m not sure if it was a dream, but they hurt me.”
“Yesterday you became very upset and even asked if you’d been raped,” Mueller pressed; his intellectual curiosity had gotten the better of him.
She took another large spoonful of spaghetti and chewed. Using her hand, she wiped her mouth and tucked her long dark hair behind her ears. With most of her face showing, her prominent high cheekbones beautifully etched a curved line on her face that ended just below her almond-shaped brown eyes.
“Yesterday seems like a dream too. I’m having a difficult time knowing what was real and what wasn’t,” she replied.
“You remember being transported here?”
“Yes.”
“And you—”
“Where am I?” she asked, interrupting him.
At first he hesitated to answer but then questioned the real harm it would cause in telling her. “You’re at a secret military base called Dulce.”
“Am I still in New Mexico?”
“Yes.”
“What’s happening, Doctor? Where is everyone else?”
“You’re under my special care. Listen, to be quite candid, we are a secret medical facility. There’s a new virus and we have a cure for it. We brought you here to give you, oh, I should just tell you.”
“What?”
“There’s a new virus, more deadly than the Death, and we created a vaccine, we tested you.”
She dropped her food. The blood drained from her face and her limbs felt weak. “You gave us the Death?”
“No, no, the thing is, everyone has just recently been exposed to this new virus. We brought you here to test you with the new vaccine, which saved you. Consider yourself lucky,” he said, twisting the truth.
“Then I guess I owe you my gratitude?”
“Not necessary, not at all. I’m a doctor; that’s what we do,” he boasted.
“Doctor?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know how to ask this,” she said and stopped.
“Ask me what?”
“Never mind, I’m sure it was just a dream.”
“No, please ask me.”
“Are there two men who work here with you?”
“No, there aren’t. That must have been part of a dream.”
She raised her hand and face-palmed, dismayed by how lucid her dreams were. “It seemed so real. I remember them hurting me, poking and prodding.” She looked at her arms and saw bruising and cuts. “If it was a dream, where did these come from?” she asked, holding up her bruised arms.
“When you were sick, you entered a delirious state and had to be restrained. Many people who get this new virus become…for lack of a better word, almost crazy. They act out violently at first, then slip into a psychotic state.”
She saw the broken bulb on the floor and asked, “Did you break that yesterday?”
“Yes, you remember that?”
“Vaguely.”
“I’ve been with you for days now, but I don’t know your name,” Mueller asked.
“Lisa.”
Mueller extended his hand and said, “Lisa, I’m Dr. Mueller, nice to meet you.”
Charleston, South Carolina
Just like the day before, Poppy assembled his group in the front staging area; the difference today was the group was huge. By a rough count Devin estimated over sixty men.
The vehicles were also noticeably different. Each pickup truck was equipped with a crew service weapon, either an M2 .50-caliber machine gun or a 40mm MK19 automatic grenade launcher.
They were ready to go to war and Devin had no doubt where they were going.
Poppy looked around, and before he began to detail the operational details, he conducted a roll call. With everyone accounted for, he went into specifics about the raid they were going on. It was a pretty straightforward assault on the neighborhood they had gathered inte
lligence on yesterday. The men would divide into three groups; one group would remain with the vehicles, either driving or manning the weapons, another slightly larger group would attack across the only bridge while the largest force would make an amphibious landing using small outboard power boats. The heavy weapons would initiate the attack by firing upon any security assets they could find, starting with the positions on the bridge. Once the bridge was clear, the first assault team would cross the bridge. This attack from the west would focus the island’s defenses on them, steering their attention away from the largest group, who would swiftly move in and attack from the east. Like all other attacks and prizes, each man got to keep what they found unless its value was exceptional, but small trinkets, women and children were fair game.
The plan sickened Devin and there was zero doubt his test was coming today. Unless he died, he’d be asked to perform something heinous.
Based upon his claims, Poppy had given Devin a job as a sniper. Upon arrival, he’d be given his weapon; from there his targets were what he chose.
Devin was not happy and wondered if he could get away with not making shots, but then Poppy’s voice from yesterday boomed in his head. “You still haven’t passed your test yet.” In order to pass a test, you have to be graded; this had to mean Poppy would be looking over his shoulder.
After all questions were answered, the men were treated to a visit by Captain Renfield.
“Good morning, men!” Renfield hollered in a jovial tone.
The men cheered in unison.
“Today will be a good day because today isn’t your normal assault. Today we seek vengeance. We will strike at the heart of those who attacked us weeks ago. Retribution will be ours and mine. I want you to know that all of you will be rewarded with a higher split of the treasure we find. You fine men will bring justice to our brothers and to me personally.”
“We loved him, sir!” a voice cried out.
“We miss him too!” another sang.
“I miss him too. Now go, avenge the fallen and take what is theirs. When you leave that island I want to hear tales of valor and I want to hear that you killed every single man and boy as well as burned down every single home and structure. Leave nothing!”
The men passionately cheered.
Renfield went through the group, shaking everyone’s hand, but when he reached Devin, he paused. “I heard about what happened yesterday.”
“Bad luck.”
“Not for you, but old Charlie, it wasn’t his day, that’s for sure.”
“Just bad luck,” Devin said.
Renfield leaned close to him and whispered, “I hated that motherfucker, weak, very weak. We don’t need men like him around here.”
Devin nodded.
“Good luck today, get many kills and bring home some prizes,” Renfield said while patting his shoulder. He turned and marched off.
“Devin, get in the truck with me,” Poppy ordered.
All the men loaded up and within minutes the convoy of trucks exited the shipyard.
There was no guessing what attack Renfield mentioned. It had to be his and Tess’ attack. What he didn’t know was who they were revering.
“Many of the men mentioned that they loved and missed someone, who was it?”
“That day was horrible. Our crews have been through hell and back. We’ve seen everything. Same goes for the captain, but that night crushed him.”
“Why?”
“Because someone killed his son that night, shot him point blank in the face. We think that motherfucker is on that island, and if he is, we’re going to skin him alive and leave his bloodied but still-breathing body out tied to a stake for all to see.”
A nauseous feeling crept over Devin as his stomach clenched. He remembered that night clearly and it was he who had shot the boy while avenging Tess. In a strange turn of events, Devin was part of a raiding party whose mission was to find Devin. Sort of like a dog chasing his tail.
Outside North Platte, Nebraska
Travis had gone full tilt and was now yelling, “You just show up and are trying to dictate where we’re going? Nope, we’re headed from here to New York, no deviation.”
“I want to check on my cousin in Chicago,” Josh replied.
“Fuck no,” Travis barked.
“Don’t be rude, Travis,” Cassidy reprimanded.
“Stop being patronizing. Of course I don’t make unilateral changes, but why shouldn’t we all have a say in stops. We have a unique opportunity and I for one think we should make additional stops. What about you two, thoughts?” she asked Bill and Tom.
Both men looked at each other and almost simultaneously they answered.
“I have an aunt outside of Columbus,” Bill said.
“And my brother’s house is in upstate New York,” Tom added.
“That leaves you,” Cassidy said, turning to face Travis. “I know you’ve waited a long time to find Tess, so let’s go see if she’s still in Bismarck.”
A stiff breeze came in from the west and blew Travis’ hat off his head. He picked it up and dusted it off.
Cassidy saw that he hadn’t picked up a photo that had fallen out of the hat. She bent over and picked it up. “Is that Tess?” she asked, handing the photo back to Travis.
The photo wasn’t of Tess but of Lori. He looked at it for a brief second and tucked it back inside his hat. He exhaled heavily and asked, “Can I have a few minutes to think about this?”
“No,” Josh blurted out. “And why do we have to have a unanimous decision to do anything? Who came up with that rule?”
“Of course, take more than a few. If you don’t agree, we go straight to New York, but your decision affects others here.”
Travis walked off and stood staring out across the plains. The wind was picking up, signaling that a storm might be coming from the west and with it probably radiation. What ate at him wasn’t the risk of veering off course or changing plans, something greater was chewing away. He tried to put his finger on it, but he couldn’t. Making an undetermined amount of stops added complications and risked them all. The less amount of time on the road, the better, but deep down that logical response wasn’t why he felt like he did. It just didn’t feel right.
A soft touch on his back cleared his thoughts. He looked over his shoulder and saw Cassidy. The wind was whipping the short strands of hair that stuck out from underneath her hat. On her face he saw sheer determination, a strength that he’d only seen in Tess before. Lori had strength, but she carried it differently than Cassidy or Tess. Just beyond her he saw the three men laughing. How could someone think this was an appropriate time for that?
Cassidy didn’t say a word. She had only come over to comfort him; she saw the struggle he was having with the decision.
“I always knew I wanted to be a Marine, even from a young age. My walls were covered with posters, I made every model I could and read everything on them. I didn’t put thought into it. I just wanted it. Later people would ask me why I joined and I typically gave them the boxed answer to serve my country or fight for freedom, but you know something it wasn’t really any of those reasons. I just wanted to be a Marine; there was something about it that I was attracted to. I think so often in life we are told we need an answer for everything we do, but now I know you don’t. Sometimes you can’t give a simple answer; sometimes you just know what is right or wrong. So that takes me to this idea. The shake-and-bake answer is to agree and make stops all over the map. I mean, how bad can it be? Everyone wins; everyone gets a chance to possibly find a family member; it makes logical sense. But my gut tells me this is wrong.”
“I respect your decision, no matter what.”
“I can’t be that one person that destroys everyone else’s hopes and dreams. This trip started out about you, but you’re willing to travel so that others might find family. I admire that and I’d be lying if I didn’t want to find Tess. I’m not the guy who blows up the group’s plan, so you can count me in.”
> She began to pet his arm. “Thank you.”
“Tess was always the strong one in our relationship. She had a deep-seated moral code from which she lived her life. I have it but not to the intensity she had it. She grounded me and never took the easy road and always accepted the challenge. I know she’d be generous like you and offer to deviate off the path for others.”
“I hope I get to meet Tess, I really do.”
Charleston, South Carolina
For the second time in as many days, Devin found himself looking upon the island community that supposedly housed him.
Poppy had issued him an old Winchester Model 70, .30-06-caliber bolt-action rifle outfitted with a Leupold scope.
When Devin was handed the bullets, he was a bit intimidated. They were huge compared to the .556 mm bullets his AR-15 shot. He fumbled with the rifle and quickly became acquainted with it. The last thing he wanted Poppy to think was he was a novice, and for the most part, he was. Tess had shown him a lot in the short amount of time they'd spent together, but handling a rifle like this was not something he had ever done before.
“Your job is to cover the assault. Don’t shoot just any motherfucker over there; target ones that pose a threat to our men. Look for snipers or men manning large weapons. You got that?”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Oh, do ya? Answer me this, where should you aim?”
“The head, of course.”
“No, you aim for the chest or what we call center mass. That will take them down. Head shots are more difficult; go for their chest unless the only shot you have is their head.”
“But—”
“There’s no fucking buts; hit them in the chest.”
“Okay.”
Devin felt a bit stupid for his answers but shrugged it off when he heard the radio blare that the assault would start in ten minutes. On his belly, he crawled to the edge of the tree line and poked out ever so subtly.
“Here, use these,” Poppy said, standing just behind him.
Devin looked back and saw he was holding two sandbags. He placed them at the edge and laid his rifle on top.
“Start your scan. We have about seven minutes before we go green,” Poppy said.