by C. Martens
What no one knew was that there was a false negative walking among them. One of the medical team was a plant. Even though he had not received instruction since his parent’s city was obliterated, he knew what his duty was. He would do his best to make sure that no one emerged from the bunker alive.
Keeping in contact with the Vice President as well as the young Congressman from Hawaii, the Commander In Chief informed them of the situation. Neither man chose to divulge that there were deaths within their own security measures. The President already had enough to worry about, and he needed all the courage he could muster.
More people died.
A mutiny within the ranks of the Secret Service was quelled at great cost and loss of life.
The protocols were changed, and people were confined within their areas regardless of job or title. Security were the only people allowed in the halls, and they were given stationary positions. The only one to move about the bunker was the man with the breathalyzer.
A compartment of six people died within a couple of days.
One of the doctors had an epiphany. He discussed the idea with one of his colleagues and then brought a third into the discussion. The originator contacted the security chief.
The blood being analyzed by the complicated, state-of-the-art device told the tale even better that the refusal to give blood had.
When the nurse had been approached and asked for a sample, he had refused politely. When they got to the point of demanding, civility was abandoned, and he went down kicking and screaming. Now he sat in a corner of the room with a nice shiner starting to make an appearance. His arms were duct taped to his sides and the chair he occupied, and his ankles were taped to the chair legs. A spot of blood showed behind the bandage at his inside elbow.
The breaking point had occurred. One of the security team pulled his gun and shot the man next to him, his superior. The other security man opened fire on the doctors. Then he planted a bullet in the forehead of the man taped to the chair.
Brutality can be justified by circumstance, particularly in the minds of men under extraordinary duress. The two men with their smoking guns ran for the elevators. Reaching them, they wasted precious moments trying to force them to work. The two remaining security personnel found them there. Already committed to escape at any cost, the shooters opened fire from an unsecured location. Surprisingly, they were successful in wounding both men trying to detain them, even as they went down.
Both loyal agents lay in their blood. The terminal wound that one suffered sent him into the next life quickly. The other agent made every effort to rise, but the damage to his vertebrae kept him down. His was a survivable wound, normally, with proper care. Unable to move, the man was worried about those locked behind heavy doors. There was nothing he could do. Thirst would have killed him if the continuing blood loss had not.
The house robot serving the President was easy to command. After it shattered itself against the closed vault portal, the most solid door in the bunker, it fell as though lifeless to the floor. The man that commanded it to its destruction stood quietly inspecting it for a considerable time. He made a final communication to the Vice President, or more accurately, tried to. No one answered.
Lights dimmed and brightened on schedule for years in the underground bunkers beneath the West Wing.
§
The halls and large spaces of the Los Angeles FBI Center were quiet. There was no work being done, as there were no workers. Well, no workers except one. Billy had taken the best part of an afternoon to find a way into the building.
Work being important to the Down syndrome young man in many ways, he had walked for hours to get to his job after the bus failed to show up. Finding doors locked, he determined to find a way in. Surely someone would have told him if there was a holiday, and according to his watch with the big hands and numbers and the voice that told him what day it was when asked, it was not a holiday.
A window on the ground floor behind some shrubs was open enough to get his fingers in, and after much jiggling it exposed an opening large enough to climb through.
Billy had never seen the offices empty. At first it terrified him. He found his way to the mailroom and started to sort packages and load his cart. The work had piled up several weeks ago and only recently eased. Billy did not understand why, but shipments suddenly ceased. The backlog was still crowding the tables and bins. Billy had plenty of work.
The big board with all of the blinking red lights made Billy uncomfortable, so he avoided looking at it. He knew what the lights meant from a conversation he had overheard. He was glad that he did not have one of those things in his arm, and he was sad when the light next to Jimmy’s name started to blink. Now every name on the board had a red light blinking next to it.
At 5:00 p.m. it was quitting time. The cart was finally empty from his first run of the day, and there was still plenty to do, but quitting time was quitting time. Billy entered his time on his watch and made for the door, forgetting that it was locked. Panicked by the delay and worried he would miss his bus, Billy ran to the jimmied window and jumped out. Leaving the window open seemed wrong, but on looking at his watch again, he realized he did not have time to close it. He raced to the bus stop and waited.
The bus never came.
A good thing that the window was still open, Billy climbed back inside. He was hungry and tired. The day had been more stressful than any he remembered, and the morning walk had been long.
The lunch room offered food from the employee fridge. This was not the first time he had stolen food from the fridge. He could never resist chocolate pudding. Somehow a six pack of pudding always waited for him every Monday, and no one ever seemed to catch him. Agent Flynn made sure of that, replacing the pudding every week. Jimmy had a coworker take over the position of pudding donor before he died.
Eating the creamy chocolate first, Billy understood that he should limit himself to one and make them last. Five more to go. He was hungry enough that he did not hesitate for long in taking a sandwich. But that was all he took. He felt bad enough taking the one.
So, now what? Roaming the floors without his cart was unusual, but after his initial fear subsided, Billy came to feel comfort in this big familiar place. He used the evening to inspect each floor and office and cubicle as he had never done before.
Billy’s watch informed him that it was going to be time for bed soon. He had no toothbrush. Or toothpaste. He had no bed to sleep in, and it was too dark to walk home. He was not supposed to be outside in the dark.
The shrewdness of the young man shined through. This was a place where agents had to work under sudden circumstances. They might have to travel without warning or an opportunity to pack. Billy went to Jimmy Flynn’s desk and found a spit kit with a new toothbrush still in its package and a lightly used tube of toothpaste.
In his inspection of the offices, Billy also found a storeroom with a couch. Replaced during a remodel, the couch being Federal Government property and paid for with taxpayer funds could not simply be discarded. Storing it was easier than going through the red tape-laden process of transferring the piece of furniture to Surplus. Thanks to an overworked facilities manager, Billy would sleep in relative comfort. All of the lights in the common rooms were on timers set to shut off early, so those areas would go dark and not meet Billy’s needs. Fortunately for the young man, the storeroom was not on a timer.
Over the next several weeks, Billy delivered all of the packages in the mailroom. Then he collected them and sorted and delivered them again. The storeroom was emptied, and the couch was joined by a chair, desk, and a couple of lamps. An expensive and plush rug from one of the executive offices found a home. A playback device was forced through the window, and several movies filled shelves, along with canned goods foraged from store shelves in the vicinity.
Staying in the building as much as possible, Billy missed his friends, but he would wait for them to come back to work. In the meantime, he delivered packages.
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Billy was a survivor.
Chapter 14
Emmett remained on his knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Chloe ached for him, but could not envelop him as she wished in her arms. This little brother that she loved so much, and who had always been such a pain to her, was all she had left. Well, except for Andy, and she knew where that was going and chose not to think about it. Being the person she was, she did not even think about her own certain fate.
The big question became how they could coexist without contaminating Emmett, because there was no way that Chloe would attempt to abandon him again. Her good intention, her first impulse to protect her loved ones by fleeing, was in the past. She just did not have the heart to do it again.
Not having any relevant medical training other than rudimentary first aid courses, Andy fell back on his security expertise and decided that isolation had to be enforced. He noticed that the ocean breeze was in his face, so Emmett was unlikely to have any windborne threat.
“Chloe…baby…, we have to stay downwind of him.” He spoke softly, trying to be sensitive to the needs of his weeping lover. “See how the wind is blowing in our face? Whenever we’re around Emmett, he needs to have his back to the wind, and it should be in our faces.” He coughed.
By now Chloe was in his arms. She looked up, “Good. That’s good. I knew you would know what to do.”
Andy had no real clue, and he knew it, but it was nice that this good woman had faith in him. He would just have to make it up as he went.
Emmett spoke for the first time, overhearing them.
“We can do this. We can stay together, at least close enough that we can talk and look at each other. I’ll do whatever it takes. As long as you promise me that you won’t leave me. You have to promise.” The look on his face said it all. He was haunted by the prospect of being left behind.
Spirits lifted as they made plans. Staying busy is not the same as being useful, and this situation, full of angst, provided the opportunity to be useful. Still, there was guilt. Emmett felt the burden of placing his fate and the extra work involved on top of the already great burden the infected couple was carrying. Chloe felt the guilt of putting her brother in jeopardy every time they would see each other. Andy felt it in the lie he was telling to these two people he cared for so deeply. He had every intention of leaving, forcing Chloe if need be, if they did not prove to be sufficiently security conscious. Where he had disliked Emmett on their first meeting and had to get used to him in order to appreciate his quirks, now the young man was the highest priority. It would be his last and most important gift to Chloe, assuring that her brother would live.
Making the assumption that the plagues would diminish over time as people succumbed, Andy decided to create a barrier around Emmett. Whether he and Chloe had any contacts with people anymore mattered little, other than not wanting to infect anyone else unnecessarily. So the first order of business was to block the road coming to the coast and in a way that stated clearly that people should pass on.
Andy and Chloe made their promises as required and left Emmett to fret over whether they were telling him the truth.
The Jeep loped slowly through the neighborhoods just off the access road on its flat tire. There was no reason to change it now. Finding a small home in the rear of a court that was unlocked, they inspected it for occupants and found none. They unloaded anything of importance, and the Jeep became the first chink in the barricade that would block the access road at the highway.
Feeling terrible himself, coughing as he worked, Andy tried to insist that Chloe stay indoors and warm. She would have none of it. The slight fever and the congestion made her miserable, but she would hold up her end. This was a team effort.
Other vehicles joined the first as they layered them one behind the other, sideways in the road. Flattened tires on all of them made it an obvious attempt to blockade access. Andy found a sign on a gate, and he hung it front center on the side of their old ride. The message warned that trespassers would be shot, and survivors would be shot again.
Left to his own devices, Emmett concentrated on the cabin with the view. He brought his gear inside and made an effort to clean the dirty surfaces. All things considered, his efforts came out better than he expected. Chloe would have been mortified. By midafternoon, Emmett was getting scared. He was beginning to wonder if he was on his own. The next hours were some of the most difficult in his life simply because he had to be patient.
After the barrier was constructed with vehicles obtained by breaking and entering locked houses, Andy considered if they should add another. The day was waning, however, and they had other priorities now.
The house they were taking for their own became their focus. The previous owners were apparently germaphobes. Shelves in a large pantry were packed with disinfectants and bottles of bleach. A welcome sight to Andy, the supplies gave him a strategy that might keep Emmett safe.
Finding a side-by-side UTV in a garage early in their acquiring barricade materials, they had used it to pick each other up when they abandoned each rig on the road. Now Andy placed a large plastic tub on the back with another crate full of bleach bottles. Wire baskets intended for gardening fit tightly in the larger container, and the two lovers filled them with canned goods from the food stores in the storage area.
The relief that Emmett felt when Andy and Chloe drove up in their new little rig could have stopped the heart of a weak man. He rose from the chair on the little covered porch where he had been waiting in terror and almost rushed to embrace his sister.
“Hold it!!” Andy spoke loudly with authority. “You’ve got to stay back, Emmett. You know that.”
Realizing that his acceptance of these conditions were essential to keeping his family intact, Emmett backed off.
“Geeze, guys, it sure took you long enough.”
Emmett noticed that the two looked a little grey. He could see that the initial illness was draining them.
“You guys look like hell. Did you find someplace to stay?”
Chloe answered. “Yeah, we did. I wish we could invite you over for dinner.”
The humor fell flat.
“Maybe someday,” Emmett finally answered. “I’ll bring a bottle of wine and dessert.” He smiled weakly.
The two in the UTV appreciated the effort at continuing the farce, even though there was nothing funny about it.
Andy spoke up. “We’ve got some stuff for you. I think we can keep you supplied with food…and we have a way to keep it clean.”
He described the tub and the way they could douse the contents with bleach. They would leave the tub, covered and full of the caustic liquid, so they could leave items in it below the surface. The tub would stay downwind of Emmett. He was instructed to never cross to the east of it...the shore would be his only playground.
The plan sounded doable to Emmett. He was not in a position to complain.
“Fine. Sounds good, Andy. I can live with that.” Emmett spoke without thinking, and as soon as he said it, he regretted it.
Seeing that her brother had embarrassed himself, Chloe forced a big smile even though she had taken a blow.
“Oh, Emmett, that’s the point.” She wanted so bad to touch him. “Don’t be sad…it is what it is. You’re our last hope, so don’t feel bad about it.”
Conversation followed, small talk and discussion of further strategies. The talk was pleasant except for the coughing fits. One of the issues that came up was the other residents of the campground. Andy had not considered them as he was blocking the road. He determined to visit them and explain as he could.
Leaving Chloe to her brother, he trusted the two siblings to keep their distance.
The big motor homes remained as first seen, tucked into adjoining spaces as far back as they could get. Andy wondered if the way they were crammed as far from the lane as possible was a result of the fear these people had. He was pretty sure it was.
Not wanting to knock on any doors or get close to them in any
way, especially if they were occupied, Andy threw some pebbles at the first one. To begin with, he threw them against the side, but getting no response he targeted the windshield. Still nothing. Finally he picked up a big rock and walked up to the huge rig and pounded on the side. No one answered.
The next site resulted in the same. No response.
It was starting to get late, and Andy walked back to the cabin with a couple of folding chairs taken from one of the motor home camps. He set them up to the lee of the bleach tub for his own and Chloe’s use.
What Andy found was discussed briefly. Then he grabbed a wrecking bar from the UTV that they had been using to force locks on homes. Intending to inspect the interiors of the coaches, Chloe elected to walk with him this time. She insisted on peeking into the windows before they forced the doors, and seeing nothing through those that were not curtained, she consented to the break-in.
The residents were dead as was abundantly apparent as soon as they forced the doors. Even the automatic cooling systems could not keep the decomposition from permeating the interiors.
Chloe suggested that they open all of the windows as well as leaving the door open and come back later.
Back at the cabin, they informed Emmett that they would be removing the great hulks from the campground. The big units would create the second barrier on the road leading in.
By the time they returned from placing the first home across the road and into the ditch in a narrow spot, Emmett decided the canned goods were ready to be brought in. He filled the small cupboard in the rustic kitchen area of the cabin and replaced the wire baskets in the tub. Enough cans to overflow the little cubby, a couple ended up on the table.
Dusk approached. Hesitantly and with sadness, the siblings said good night. Emmett insisted that Chloe and Andy hunker down and stay warm. He could care for himself over the next few days while they got better. Again, he realized what he had said…get better…and felt regret, but Chloe reassured him, and they parted with an unresolved ache because they could not give each other hugs.