Judgment Day (Book 1)

by JE Gurley

  * * * *

  Vince was thankful and a little surprised that they had pulled it off, at least so far. Four armed escorts accompanied him and Mace to the base commander’s office. The guards had relieved them of their weapons, and unlike Jeb and Renda, they had not risked secreting weapons on their bodies, certain they would undergo a thorough search before admission to the commander’s office. They were.

  “You called him a general. Isn’t this a naval base?” he asked.

  The soldier in charge, a wiry corporal, scowled at him. “There is no more Army, Navy, Air Force thing. We’re all just the military now.”

  “I see. Well, I hope the pay is better.”

  One of the other soldiers chuckled, but stopped at a stern look from his companion. They passed numerous offices, which were staffed by men dressed in various uniforms. Everyone was busy.

  “Looks like some action going on,” Vince commented.

  “Yeah, we’re preparing for a round up,” one said.

  “Shut up, private,” the corporal snapped.

  Vince was sure he knew what they were preparing to round up – munies. They waited in an orderly’s room outside the commander’s office for fifteen minutes before being admitted. The commander, a short, stocky general scowled at them from across his desk.

  “Have you got your military ID?” he asked Vince, who was glad he had kept them. He handed them to the general. The general gave the ID a cursory glance. “I was informed you were stationed at Red Rock.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. We can use men like you.” He faced Mace. “I don’t know you. Ramirez never mentioned your name.”

  Mace answered quickly, but not so quickly as to appear frightened. “I joined up a few days ago when Atkins got killed. Ramirez made me some promises. If they were true, I’m ready to work for you.”

  “We’ll see. For now, both of you will be confined to quarters.”

  Mace yelped, “We’re on the level, sir.”

  “Not the stockade; just confined to barracks. Wandering around unescorted can be very dangerous.”

  Vince snapped a sharp salute. Mace nodded. They said nothing as they followed their escorts across compound to a row of small houses. Soldiers loitered outside of some of them, smoking cigarettes and playing cards. Some simply sat bare-chested and soaked up the sun. A few glanced in Mace and Vince’s direction but promptly ignored them. They entered one of the houses. A sergeant leaned against the wall watching a video on the television. A couple of others sat on a couch. He saw the patch on Vince’s uniform and smiled.

  “Tech. Sergeant, huh? Well, I could use some help with these useless assholes. Name’s Guthrie.” He looked at Mace and scowled. “A Hunter. Well, you can take the top bunk in the corner of the second bedroom. Most Hunters don’t stay here, but I guess we can accommodate you for a while. Just don’t try to cozy up to me. I don’t like Hunters.”

  “I’m just doing a job,” Mace answered, playing the part.

  “It’s a shitty job, and I don’t like doing it myself, but we’re under orders. You do it for blue juice and whisky.”

  The sergeant’s dissatisfaction with locating munies was not lost on Vince. He hoped more of the soldiers felt like he did.

  “Where do I bunk?” he asked.

  “In the first room. We NCOs’ have to stick together.”

  “When’s chow?

  Guthrie checked his watch. “Not for four hours. You just missed breakfast. There may be some sandwich fixings in the fridge. Help yourself.” He looked at Mace and sneered. “You too, I guess.”

  Alone in the kitchen, Mace whispered, “I don’t think he likes me.”

  “I wouldn’t like you either if you were a Hunter. I think Guthrie is a good guy doing a crummy job.”

  Vince took a can of cola from the refrigerator and popped the top.

  “I hope Renda is okay.”

  Vince took a sip and swallowed, enjoying the taste of a cold drink after so long. “We agreed it would be unlikely that they would strap them down and start bleeding them right away. They probably will want to test them first. That should give us today at least.”

  Mace grabbed a cola and a slice of ham. He dropped the ham between two slices of bread and took a bite. Chewing, he said, “Just after dark.”

  Vince nodded. “You good?”

  “Whatever it takes.”

  Vince wasn’t as eager as Mace seemed to be to kill soldiers, even if what they were doing was wrong. They were following orders. That excuse had been used many times in the past, but in this instance, they couldn’t know if what they were doing could ultimately save the country. Vince wasn’t certain it wouldn’t. Sometimes sacrifices had to be made, it just didn’t seem fair that those making the sacrifices had no say in the matter. However, he had thrown in his lot with Mace, Jeb and Renda and for better or for worse he owed them his loyalty. They had Jeb’s wife and Jeb would either find her and release her, or die trying. It was up to him to find a way to get to their weapons and locate Jeb and Renda.

  Mace, as an outsider, would certainly draw closer scrutiny. On the other hand, Vince’s rank offered him some anonymity in his movements. He would not have free run of the base, but a few extras that he had packed in the Humvee might buy him a favor. For now, they simply had to wait.

  25

  Slowly, the rhythm of work insinuated itself back into Erin’s life. After months of huddling together in a small, snow-bound cabin, the freedom of movement, though still confined to the house assigned to them; the labs and the mess hall greatly expanded her mental horizon as well. Questions put on hold during those months now begged for answers. She had set aside her personal objections and placed the safety and welfare of her friends above her principles, but her loathing for what they were doing did not diminish. The repetitive boredom of staring at hundreds of microscope slides and scanning an uncountable number of samples forced her once again to consider the source of their samples. By the volume of fresh serum that she had at her disposal, she suspected the barracks at the far end of the base held hundreds of people, harvested of their blood like lab animals. Once before, she had attempted to stop such madness, but she would not make that mistake again. She was tired of playing God.

  Whether by design or accident, they seldom caught sight of their counterparts, except at meals. The armed guards standing conspicuously around the mess hall, kept communication to a minimum, but she did learn that the military was planning a large-scale roundup of immune people soon from smaller communities along the coast. By her estimate, the freezer had five thousand one-time doses of the vaccine available, but they were being pushed to produce ten thousand. To do that as quickly as the general insisted, they would need twice as much serum, twice as many people.

  Susan seemed delighted with her new surroundings. She spent off duty hours at the beach or sunning in front of the house. There was no shortage of soldiers vying for her attention, but so far, she had refused them. Erin had no doubt, she was holding out for Samuels. Samuels, as non-technical, non-military and an outsider to boot, was persona non grata on the base. He spent much of his time alone wandering the base. Erin had tried striking up a conversation with him, but since their arrival, he had withdrawn into a private world. His duty as liaison was over, and having no authority, he displayed none.

  Erin glanced up from her microscope as Susan walked up to her desk. “I can’t believe they’ve gotten nowhere in all this time,” she complained. “We were further along six months ago.”

  Erin agreed. Given the excellent equipment and unlimited serum, she would have thought a comprehensive vaccine would have been simple. However, she had taken the time to read some of the other team’s notes.

  “I believe most of the people here were not researchers. Several worked for large pharmaceutical companies and a few were technicians in hospitals. I don’t think any of them are particularly qualified for the task at hand.”

  Unspoken was the thought that either many of the app
ropriately trained personnel were in other facilities, and not sharing their results, or had not survived. Neither prospect boded well for a solution.

  “Someone seems to be directing their efforts in the right direction,” Susan said.

  Erin pushed her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose. That thought had crossed her mind too. “Yes, that is odd. This Major Corzine the general spoke of… he seems to be well acquainted with the proper procedures for vaccine development. I wondered how a mere major could wind up in charge of this operation. I suspect he worked in some classified germ warfare program.”

  Susan frowned. “Bio weapons? You don’t think . . .”

  “That the plague was designed? No, the virus is too complex, too many mutations. Man might have helped it along inadvertently, but I think nature just caught up with us.”

  “It’s not fair,” Susan moaned. “I’m young. I wanted a life. Now, I’m, I’m draining people’s lives away as quickly as mine is.”

  Erin reached out and patted Susan’s hand. “Don’t give up hope, Susan.”

  It was easy to tell Susan not to give up hope, but Erin was having doubts about her own future. She didn’t know how much longer she could go on pretending not to care about what they were doing. She was certain that, if channeled properly, they could find a vaccine without wasting so many innocent lives. The secret lay within the zombies, not the immunes, but no one seemed to wish to study the zombies. If they were mutating, then the virus was more complex than they suspected. By studying the zombie mutations, they could learn more about the virus, including possibly a method of shutting it down. However, the general had refused even to discuss her idea.

  Erin’s platitudes not console Susan, “I just want to leave this place.”

  “If there were a way . . .” Erin began.

  “What?” Susan asked eagerly, hoping Erin had an answer.

  Erin shook her head. “No, I don’t know a way. I was just wishing aloud.”

  Susan sagged against the desk and sighed. “There’s a party of sorts on the beach tonight. Why don’t you come? They’ll have beer. It helps, believe me.”

  The idea of a little recreation tempted her, but she was in no mood for entertainment. “No, I have too much work to do. Lucas has arranged for me to stay late and assist him. We really need to compare notes.”

  “You work too hard, Erin.”

  Erin didn’t bother agreeing, as she peered into the microscope. Work was all that kept her going. Somewhere, there was an answer to the zombie plague and she had to find it. If only she had the leeway to change the scope of her research and a place free from the confining presence of the military, she was certain she could produce a vaccine. The military, with all its rigidity, went strictly by the book, allowing no secondary research into areas not deemed appropriate to the goals. They had no conception of a broader approach to a problem.

  When she looked back up, Susan was gone.

  Samuels’ visit a short time later surprised her. When she heard his familiar footsteps coming down the hallway, her hand instinctively went to straighten her hair. Although their three-month confinement had alleviated her distrust of him, her natural instinct to remain aloof had curbed what she had thought were tentative romantic approaches by him. She admitted to herself that she was attracted to him, but made no overt moves to urge him on. Susan’s enamor of Samuels would have placed a wedge between them and make a difficult situation even more intolerable.

  “Elliott,” she said as he came and stood over her. She noticed that his face had grown thinner and his light brown eyes no longer sparkled. He looked tired.

  He nodded slightly. “Hello, Erin.”

  “What brings you here?”

  “I’m leaving.”

  She sat up in her chair. This was something she had not expected. “Leaving? Why? Where?”

  Erin had learned to read him, and his nonchalant shrug spoke volumes. He had not so much decided to leave, as he had concluded that he could not stay.

  “I’m not sure yet. A chopper is leaving for Oregon in a few days. They need someone to coordinate food distribution with what’s left of the Canadian government in Vancouver.” He paused and shuffled his feet. “I’m not needed here.”

  She knew she could not ask him to remain for her sake, not without opening doors that she wished to remain closed. “Why not coordinate the research groups here? The teamwork is sloppy.”

  His face grew red. “Damn it, you know why.”

  Her mouth worked but she said nothing. What could she say?

  “You’re a cold fish,” he continued. “You won’t let anyone inside your ice walls. I know there’s a woman in there. I’ve seen her and I like her, but you . . . you hide yourself away like some specimen in a vault, hoping someday everything will be perfect so you can come out and rejoin the world. It’s not going to happen, Erin. Life is slipping you by.”

  He stopped and stared at her expectantly.

  She fumbled for something to say. “What about Susan?” She winced, as the words left her mouth. She knew it was the wrong thing to say.

  He sighed and turned away. “Susan is infatuated with me, but she’s just a girl. She doesn’t know what she wants. If you weren’t so damned blind . . .”

  “I’m not blind,” she said. “I’m a slave to what I am.”

  Samuels clenched his fists and shook them imploringly in front of her. “Then break your chains. Be a woman.”

  Erin sniffed back a tear. His plea was worming its way through her carefully constructed defenses. She had to stop it before she said what she really felt. “I can’t be a woman right now. I have to save the world.”

  He stood there with his lips pressed tightly together and stared at her, a withering look that ripped apart her soul. “How can you save the world, if you can’t save yourself?”

  Without giving her a chance to reply, he turned his back on her, figuratively and literally, and walked away. The hollow sound of each step was a spike hammered into her heart. She half rose to call him back, but fell back into her chair defeated. She would not offer him only part of her, and for the time being, that was all she had left.

  She could not focus on the slides beneath the lens. Shoving the chair back so hard it crashed against the wall behind her, she rose and peered down the hallway, but Samuels was already gone. She fought the tears welling at the corners of her eyes, but in spite of her best efforts, they came in a hot rush that burned like down her cheeks like acid. She stumbled her way to the bathroom and washed her face in the sink with cold water. Looking at herself in the mirror, she yelled, “Stupid bitch!” and beat her fist on the edge of the sink until it bruised.

  Overwhelmed by her own problems, she failed to hear the first shots outside.

  26

  At six o’clock, two soldiers unlocked the door and rolled in a cart with stacks of Styrofoam boxes. Jeb was hungry and the aroma of fresh bread and soup smelled enticing, but he focused his attention on the nearest guard. Kowalski, the fat attendant sauntered in smiling, leering at Renda and leaned against the doorframe. The second guard, armed with a .45, stood just inside the door, a grave mistake on his part. Renda, playing the part she had suggested, rose and walked toward Kowalski.

  “What do I have to do to get a drink around here?” she asked.

  Kowalski stared at her breasts, licking his lips. “If you’re good to me, I’ll be good to you.”

  The guard watched her out of the corner of his eye, but having seen Kowalski’s antics before, ignored her. When she got three feet from Kowalski, she jammed her derringer in his crotch and smiled. “Move an inch and I’ll shoot out your brains.”

  Before the guard could unholster his .45, Jeb pointed his .32 at him. Both guards froze.

  “You’ll never get out of here,” Kowalski said. His voice trembled as he tried to peer over his gut at the gun in his crotch.

  “We’ll get out or you’ll be singing soprano,” Renda replied, shoving the derringer harder. Kowalski yel
ped in pain.

  Jeb waved his gun at the guards. “You two, over here. Antonov, get their weapons.”

  Antonov removed their pistols. He kept one and handed the other to Jeb, who slipped his derringer in his pocket.

  “Strip off their uniforms and tie them up,” he told the others.

  Three people ripped off the guards’ uniforms, tore sheets into strips, and tied and gagged them. Kowalski watched with growing terror, especially when the woman who had spoken to them earlier began yelling, “Kill the fat bastard! Shoot off his nuts!”

  Jeb tried to quiet her. “Shut up. Don’t attract attention.”

  Her desire to escape, overcame her hatred of the fat attendant. She seethed, but remained silent.

  “You,” Renda said. “Give me the key to the gate.”

  “I… I don’t have it. A third guard accompanies the other two, unlocks the gate for them, and then remains outside the fence.” He smiled smugly. “You can’t get to him.”

  A jab to his nuts with the .25 brought a sweaty sheen to his forehead.

  Jeb thought quickly. He had hoped it would be an easy escape, but the four of them had made contingency plans. Now, he would put one into effect. “Antonov,” he said. “Watch this fat bastard while I change into one of the guards’ uniforms”

  “Me, too,” Renda said. “If I stay here, I’ll shoot off this prick’s prick.”

  Dressed in the uniforms, Jeb knew they would pass a casual inspection, but if the third guard got a good look at them, they would be on the wrong side of the gate to do anything.

  “Does Fatso ever go out with them?” he asked.

  Antonov pointed the gun at Kowalski’s head and pulled back the hammer. Kowalski quickly nodded. “Some…sometimes, I smoke a cigarette with them,” he stammered.

  “Good. You go with us, but remember; so much as a nervous twitch and you’re a dead man.”

  Keeping their heads low to hide their faces, Renda and Jeb pushed the cart and followed Kowalski outside to the gate. The guard suspected nothing. As soon as he unlocked the gate, Jeb shoved the .45 in his face and relieved him of his M16. He turned to Renda.