The Death: Extinction

by John W. Vance

  “What have you done?” Horton yelled, reaching for Mueller.

  Blood had already begun to ooze from his eyes.

  “I gave you and everyone else here the virus.”

  “Give me the vaccine, now!” Horton ordered.

  “There is no vaccine, or I should say there was, but I destroyed it.”

  “Damn you!”

  “Consequences, isn’t that the word you’d use? Consequences.”

  “I’ll fucking kill you!” Horton screamed as he reached for Mueller. Too weak, he fell to the floor.

  Mueller took a few steps back from him, but Horton pressed on, crawling across the floor until he reached Mueller’s feet. He grabbed Mueller’s ankles, but his grip was too weak. Happily, Mueller kicked his hands away.

  “Since the symptoms are moving at the correct pace, I thought I’d tell you the good news, and believe me, this may not seem like good news now, but in say twelve hours when copious amounts of blood are leaving your body, you’ll beg to die and death is what you’ll get. You will bleed out and die, right there on the floor. And when you do, I want you to know that you did this, not me, you did this. What did you say? Your blood is on your hands.”

  “Damn you!”

  Mueller turned and slowly walked away from Horton, who lay floundering on the cold tile floor.

  Mueller cracked his knuckles, picked up the phone and called Wendell at the operations center in Colorado.

  “Hello, Mr. Wendell, yes, this is Dr. Mueller; I’m afraid there’s been an accident here. We’ve had an outbreak of the new virus. The chancellor is dead, but just before he died he gave me one last command. Proceed with the operation. He wants it to go around the clock, coast to coast and around the world until you use every last drop. Do you understand? Good. Thank you.”

  Mueller hung up the phone and began rocking the chair back and forth in a slow rhythm. He thought about what he had just done and knew it was despicable, but he just didn't care. He wasn't a good man, his brief interlude of playing nice with Lisa was a lie. There was no vindication or forgiveness for someone like him. He wasn't any better than Horton nor any worse. They both deserved each other and the law of attraction brought them together.

  All through the years he was working to perfect the virus he had times of instropsection, so much to the point he'd question what he was doing. However, he would remember a time someone hurt him or challenged his expertise, that would be enough to press forward again. There was no changing the man he was. With the final phase under way he felt a feeling of calm. The only thing he longed for was seeing the faces of all whom had hurt him over the years. He wished he could tell them he was the reason they were going to die. And just before they took their last breath they'd know how powerful he truly was.

  Content and fulfilled, he needed only to do one last thing. On the desk sat one of Horton's pistols. Mueller had found it in Horton's office. He picked up the nickel plated Springfield 1911 and cradled it. His thumb caressed the slide and ivory grips. It was a beautiful firearm and must have been a collector's item. He pressed the magazine release, it clicked and dropped a fully loaded magazine into his hand. He examined it, placed it back in the magazine well and with the butt of his hand slammed it in.

  This was it, his mission was over. He had questioned the decision about what he was considering but came to the conclusion that this was right. He wanted to die feeling the way he felt now. He had won and no one would ever be able to tell him he hadn't.

  Without further hesitation, he racked the slide chambering a round, placed the muzzle over his fast beating heart and pulled the trigger.

  Charleston, South Carolina

  “Stop! There’s nothing you can do! Nothing!” Daryl yelled at Devin after just spending the last minute wrestling him to the ground.

  “Let me go!” Devin screamed.

  “No, it’s too late!”

  “She needs me. Please let me go!”

  “If I let you go, you’ll die, nothing more. You can’t save her!” Daryl pinned Devin to the ground and was now sitting on top of him.

  Blood oozed from Devin’s nose and the scuffle with Daryl had split his lip. “Why, why didn’t you save her instead of me?”

  “Dev, this is life. I went back for her, but there was no way. The bastards were coming out of the woodwork like ants. I barely got you out of there.”

  Tears burst from Devin’s eyes and all the strength he had used to resist Daryl vanished.

  Daryl saw a broken man in front of him. Sensing it was no longer necessary to hold him down, he stood up.

  In the distance the cheers of Renfield’s men could be heard.

  Devin rolled over and got up as far as his hands and knees. Tears fell from his eyes and cheeks onto the dirt. He steadied himself with one hand then stood.

  Daryl kept a close eye on him. If he was going to make a run for it again, he was going to take him down quicker this time.

  The cheers in the distance turned to a rhythmic chant, a sound that Devin knew all too well. His body ached from the battle he had just fought. For the second time he had managed to escape Renfield and for a second time he had left Tess behind. The only difference now was he knew she was alive; he’d seen her being carted off just before being knocked out.

  “We have to do something!” Devin cried out. “I can’t let her die the way they’re going to kill her.”

  “If you’re suggesting going back in, no way, it’s impossible. I barely made it out of there.”

  Devin looked at Daryl and sympathized with his position and he knew retrieving her was impossible. Their chance was during the match, but that went sideways. How Daryl got him out was miraculous to say the least.

  “Do you have a rifle with a scope?”

  “Yeah, in the truck,” Daryl answered.

  Devin found it and walked away.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I need a place to make a clear shot.”

  Daryl knew what this meant, he wasn’t going to rescue her, but he was going to save her from her agony.

  What he was about to do was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life, but it had to be done. He stopped and scanned the horizon until he found the perfect site, a tall water tower. “Take me there.”

  The tower was a short three-minute drive north of the shipyard. The two-hundred-and-fifty-foot tower would give him the vantage point to make the shot he needed.

  The sun had left the horizon and soon he’d not have any natural light. He had to move fast. Like a squirrel racing up a tree, he scaled the tower with the rifle slung over his back.

  The higher he climbed, the greater the chants and cheers sounded now unobstructed by buildings.

  He made it to the gangway, found a perfect spot and took up a position lying on the sharp metal grate walkway. He was familiar with Daryl’s rifle; it was an identical model to the rifle Poppy had him use when they assaulted the community. He opened the bolt and confirmed a round was seated. His heart was pounding and he still wasn’t a hundred percent sure he could do what he needed to do.

  Dusk was fast approaching, but large bonfires and floodlights illuminated the center of the shipyard.

  He took up a firm position behind the rifle by placing the butt into the pocket of his shoulder and applying a proper cheek weld with his face against the stock. He adjusted his head placement ever so slightly until his eye relief for the scope was perfect. After blinking a few times, he began to scan the yard, looking for his target, Tess.

  A cheer that sounded more like a roar erupted from the yard as the men got their first glimpse of Tess.

  Similar to his first ordeal with them, they pushed her forward towards the captain. A large vertical stake stood planted in the ground twenty feet from them.

  Devin’s heart hurt when he looked at her being shoved, kicked and spit on during the gauntlet phase of her execution. Her hair had been completely cut off, obviously with the use of knives as blood streamed down from her head onto he
r face and neck. Her eyes were swollen and her lips appeared smashed.

  “Motherfuckers,” Devin grumbled, looking at Tess’ battered face.

  Ever defiant, she stood in front of Renfield and spit at him.

  Renfield reached back and punched her in the face.

  "Take her to the stake!" Renfield ordered, clearly upset by her insolence.

  They marched her to the stake and pinned her against it.

  Devin couldn’t take anymore. He placed the crosshairs on Tess’ chest and began to squeeze the trigger. He knew they’d skin her so his timing was everything. There was no time to ponder. He had to make the shot clean and accurate.

  A thought suddenly came to him, he remembered that the rifle had a five-round clip and he planned on using every round against these monsters.

  Tess’ arms and legs were secured tightly to the stake.

  Renfield approached with a long sheath knife. He was yelling, but Devin couldn’t make out what he was saying. Each time he talked, the pirates roared with approval.

  Devin once again placed the crosshairs on Tess’ chest. He took a breath, exhaled and held it. He placed his right index finger on the trigger and began to apply a firm and even pressure.

  Tears welled up, but he held them back. If he started to cry, he’d miss the shot, and this shot was the most important shot he’d ever take in his life.

  Tess taunted Renfield and declared her lack of fear to die.

  The rifle fired, startling Devin. He followed through by putting the crosshairs back on Tess and saw his shot had been true.

  Her defiance and rebellious spirit were gone, but her death was an honorable one.

  Renfield jumped back when the bullet ripped into her chest, killing her in an instant. He looked around for where it might have come from and the men around him began to howl with anger.

  Devin just slightly moved the rifle, placed the hairs on Renfield and squeezed off another shot. The bullet burst out of the barrel and in what seemed like an instant hit him squarely in the chest. Renfield looked down at the hole in his chest before falling to the ground dead.

  The pirates began to run in different directions.

  Devin looked for other targets, but none were as great as taking out Renfield. With three additional rounds, he randomly picked his kills and took them down. When he was done, he refocused on Tess’ body and said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

  Day 262

  June 20, 2021

  Jacksonville, North Carolina

  The drive from Chicago to New York seemed to take forever as did the drive to North Carolina. When she arrived in New York, she expected to see more people than she did. The city was a ghost town, but regardless of how empty it felt, the tragedy in Chicago made her more diligent. By her estimate, she was about thirty minutes away from North Topsail Island. She was hoping and praying Tess would be there. After so much loss and disappointment, she needed something to go right.

  Losing the men in Chicago was tough, but after spending some time in New York recuperating, she was ready to go back on the road. She traveled only during the day and made sure her fuel tank never went below half. If for whatever reason she needed to flee, she wanted enough fuel to get her at least two hundred miles.

  Not compromising on her rules, she found a safe spot to pull over and top off. Bridges made for good places, there were only two ways people could come, making it impossible to be attacked from the sides.

  Driving alone wasn’t only lonely, it was fatiguing. She wondered how people did this for a living. Her butt and back hurt as did her elbows. She found it so funny that you could ache from doing nothing.

  As she poured the gas, she took the time to relax. She leaned back and looked up. The sky was a deep blue and not a cloud was present. A soft breeze was blowing in from the east and it carried the aroma of the sea, telling her she was very close to the ocean.

  Gas splashed out of the nozzle and soaked her shoe. “Damn, now I’m going to reek like gas.”

  She closed the gas cap and in a bit of frustration tossed the gas can into the back of the trailer. As she secured the trailer, movement on the horizon in the southwest sky caught her eye. She squinted and leaned her head a bit as if the extra inch would help her see it better.

  A large jet was cruising in the distance, a long and wide contrail trailed just behind it. The contrail widened and spread until it slowly dissipated.

  Seeing the aircraft was strange, she thought. It didn’t make sense, but what did anymore? How could she look at that jet and say, ‘Wow that looks odd?’ Her entire world was turned upside down and weird. She shrugged her shoulders, got back in the SUV and made for Topsail Island and hopefully a meeting with Tess.

  North Topsail Island, North Carolina

  Devin looked at the waves crashing upon the beach; the rich smell of the ocean wafted over him. He pushed his toes into the sand and pulled them out. The hot sugary sand felt good on his bare feet. The sensation of the sand slipping between his toes reminded him of his childhood. He'd loved the beach his parents had taken him to; it was similar to, this but the glaring absence of squawking seagulls and playing children often reminded him that the world of his childhood was gone and never coming back.

  He had come to grips with losing the world before. It had taken him a while, but he finally found a reason and that was Tess. He never thought he could love two people, but he had. He loved Cassidy but lost her, and without trying, he came to love Tess, but she too was ripped away from him. He tried to be pragmatic and think about the future, but after what had happened in Charleston, he would never be the same. All the things to ever happen to him did not compare to that last moment he saw her alive only to be the one to take her life. Yes, he knew that his killing her released her from the pain of the torturous death that was coming, but no amount of training or mindset can prepare someone for taking the life of someone they love. It ate away at him until he was hollow.

  Three weeks had passed since Tess’ death, but for him he relived it every minute. It had been hard for him to do anything but sit in reflection. Daryl and Brianna both tried to console him with kind and encouraging words, but they rang empty to him. The only words that allowed him to get up each morning were Tess’. He’d lay there and hear her speaking to him and telling him to get up, move, help the kids and keep them safe. If those words ever stopped coming to him, he’d end his life in an instant.

  When he allowed his mind to go, he found only questions. The main questions being, what did it all mean and what was the purpose for living? The latter was the most important because without Tess he saw no reason to go on.

  “Dev, it’s time to go!” Daryl hollered from the house.

  Devin raised his hand to acknowledge him.

  The group was now setting out. Their destination was set, but they had no real idea what they’d encounter when they got to south central Virginia. They all had discussed the next place and it seemed like a good place for a variety of reasons; one was that it was very rural and two, it was hundreds of miles from the water. Renfield was dead, but Poppy still alive and no doubt still pillaging.

  “Everyone is waiting, good buddy, c’mon!” Daryl yelled.

  Devin stood up, stretched and wiped the sand off his hands and pants. He took one last look at the ocean. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and made a mental note of this moment.

  Daryl waited for him at the edge of the house. “All good?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s go, then,” Daryl said and started walking.

  Devin stood still. “What’s it all about?”

  Daryl turned around and asked, “What?”

  Raising his arms and motioning to the ground, sky, houses etc., he continued, “What’s all of this mean? Why are we here? Why are we alive but others are dead? Why do we get to live, huh, why?”

  Daryl saw the anguish on Devin’s face. He’d seen this look before when in the Army. “I don’t know for sure what it’s all about. I wi
sh I had an answer for you, but I don’t.”

  “I just can’t get my arms around why I lived and she had to die.”

  “I’ve asked that same question; believe me. I know she’s watching me, so that keeps me going. She wouldn’t want me to quit, I know this about my Mary. She’d want me to protect our Hudson and ensure he has a safe place to grow up.”

  “I get that, but a higher purpose or reason for all of this?”

  “That, my friend, is above my pay grade.”

  Devin looked down; once again an intense wave of emotions was hitting him.

  “Take a minute; we’ll be in the truck waiting for you.”

  Sensing his need, Brando ran up to Devin and licked his hand.

  “Hey, boy,” Devin said, petting Brando’s head.

  Startling Devin and Daryl, Brando began to bark at something in the sky.

  Daryl looked up and saw a large commercial-sized jet streaking across the brilliant blue sky. Long and wide contrails streamed from the wings and tail as it headed north. “Hey, look,” he said, pointing up.

  Devin peered up and said, “Not something you see every day. How high are they flying?”

  “Oh, about twenty thousand feet, a bit low for contrails but not impossible, I think.”

  “I wonder where they’re headed,” Devin asked.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Of course not, but I used to play that game before.”

  “C’mon, let’s get on the road. We have a long drive and that jet doesn’t concern us,” Daryl said and walked on towards the vehicles.

  Still watching the jet and its expanding contrails, Devin played his old game. “I’ll say you’re headed to New York. Yep, that’s it, good ole NYC. What do you think, boy. Where are they going, huh?” he asked Brando, scratching his furry head.

  Brando whimpered and rested his head against Devin’s leg.

  He squatted down and started to pet Brando again. He looked into his dark brown eyes and said, “I miss her too, but you know what she’d want for us. You can hear her if you listen closely. Keep moving, keep going and take it a day at a time. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”