The Dying of the Light (Book 3): Beginning

by Jason Kristopher

  Sorrell hesitated. “Yes, ma’am. That’s why you were called, ma’am. We found this on the fat one there. Thought you might want to see it.” The captain held out a hand.

  “Enough mysteries, Captain,” Gates said as she snatched a plastic badge of some kind from the man’s hand. One side was blank and white, but when she turned it over, she couldn’t believe the name she saw there.

  “Son of a bitch,” she whispered, then looked back and forth between the walker and the badge several times. “Motherfucker came back. He finally came back. Good call, Captain.”

  Gates squatted down once more and looked closer at the walker, finally seeing what her brain had been telling her. She shook her head again, stood up, and walked back over to Sorrell.

  “Burn them. Now.” Her tone brooked no argument.

  “McAndrews, get over here!” the captain yelled, and a giant of a man sporting a flamethrower walked over. “Hose ‘em down,” Sorrell ordered, and the soldier wasted no time in making a bonfire of the corpses.

  Gates gazed at the roaring fire without expression. “Welcome back, Mr. Marnes.”

  Medical Bay

  Bunker Seven

  Adrian Masters watched on the monitors as his husband dragged himself through his daily physical therapy routine, and while he was proud of Tom, he hated to see him in such pain. He’d offered to help, but the medical staff had suggested that he simply watch and provide moral support. After all, they knew what they were doing.

  But Tom had nixed that idea too. “I can’t concentrate on my work when you’re here, and sometimes I push myself too hard without meaning to,” he’d said. So Adrian watched from another room.

  There was a pang in Adrian’s chest at the memory, because it had taken Tom almost a full minute to get that one sentence out. Both of them were still dealing with neurological damage from the stroke Tom had weathered. It had happened while they’d had him in a medical coma due to his injuries from the Battle of Des Moines, and they’d caught it quick. Otherwise, the damage would have been much, much worse.

  Now, Adrian had to observe on the monitors in a nearby room that he’d had Ops set up for him. Tom didn’t know about them, and Adrian felt a little guilt about that, but not as much as he would’ve had he not kept up on his husband’s progress.

  Tom wasn’t the man he’d married all those years ago. Some of the brightness, some of whatever spark he had in him had dimmed a bit. He was different now, slower, not as quick to laugh or joke. But Adrian still loved him and had no intention of doing anything but being by his side.

  “Just one more set, Tom,” the med-tech said, and Tom grunted. This exercise—leg extensions—was particularly brutal for him, since most of the damage from being hit by the truck had been to his upper legs and back.

  To Tom’s credit, he fought through the pain and finished the set. The med-tech looked at her watch and smiled. “That’s it for today, Tom. You’ve made great progress.”

  Adrian smiled too as he walked out of the small storage room and around the counter to pick up his husband. Tonight marked three months of physical therapy, and they had plans to celebrate. A restaurant had opened in Angel Fire, and they’d been invited as guests of honor. He kept up the smile as he walked into the medical bay.

  “I’m thinking about the roast quail,” he said to Tom as he leaned down to squeeze his hand and plant a quick kiss on the top of his head. “What about you?”

  “Steak,” Tom said, and Adrian laughed as his better half licked his lips. “Steak and potatoes and wine and…”

  “All right, all right, let’s get you showered first, okay?” Adrian helped Tom into his wheelchair and looked over at the tech. “Thanks. He good to go?”

  She smiled at them both. “As good as I’ve seen him, Captain. He’ll be out of here in no time.”

  Adrian grinned and pushed the wheelchair out the door.

  “Steak it is.”

  Anderson Farm

  Austin Free Zone

  The sound of the horses’ hooves never ceased to soothe Rachel’s nerves. Artax was a bay quarter horse, bred by the first horse farm to start up after the Free Zone was declared. He was one of the biggest, at just over seventeen hands, and Rachel and her husband often sent him out to stud. To her, he was sweet, smart, and beautiful. He was also protective, a fact her husband never let her forget after the bite he’d received. She’d tried to tell him it was just a playful nip, but Donald had never come near that horse again. She couldn’t really blame him.

  The wind blew through her long hair, and as she closed her eyes, she trusted in the trotting horse to lead her safely home. She didn’t get the chance to take him out as much as she wanted anymore, but whenever she could, she let the rhythms and sounds of riding ease her tensions.

  Donald was waiting for her when she returned to the barn. A glass of water in one hand and a satphone in the other, he waited until she’d dismounted and taken care of Artax before approaching.

  “How was your ride?” he asked as he handed her the water and gave her a quick kiss.

  “Fantastic.” The water was cold, so it hurt a little to drink the whole thing, but she gulped it down. “What’s with the phone?”

  “Davison called while you were out. Said Harkness called again about walkers up near his place. And Gallows wanted to talk about moving the wall out another mile.”

  “Well, we haven’t seen a walker come anywhere near the wall in over seven months. My Hunters have cleared everything for another two miles beyond it. We could use the room. Why not?” She sighed. “Harkness, again? How many times is he gonna call before we finally stop listening? Or take away his phone?”

  Donald shook his head. “You know we can’t do that,” he said with a chuckle. “As much as I might want to.”

  Rachel pointed a finger at him. “Look, Mr. Deputy Mayor, I happen to know just how many resources we’re wasting every time that asshole calls us because he ‘saw something moving in the trees.’ One day, we’re going to let him get eaten for real, and then we won’t have to worry about it.”

  Donald laughed and pulled her close to him. “Don’t you point that finger at me, Captain Anderson.”

  Rachel grinned. “What are you going to do abou—” She was cut off as Donald kissed her, and she spent the next few minutes forgetting the world around her. When she came back to her senses, the phone was ringing in the dirt where Donald had dropped it, and Artax nuzzled it.

  “No, Artax!” she yelled. She broke free of Donald’s embrace and snatched the phone before the horse could take off with it like he had the last one.

  “I don’t know which I hate more,” she heard Donald mutter behind her, and she smiled. “The damn phone or the damn horse.”

  “Rachel Maxw—uh, Anderson,” she said as she answered the phone, not looking at her husband. She would get used to her new name… eventually.

  “Don’t forget we’re having dinner with Mom and my brother tonight!” she heard Donald yell and turned to him with a thumbs up. She loved Morena but was glad the woman lived in the city proper. With only her two sons left—one adopted, one not—she was filling up her retirement by “helping” with their lives. But Rachel always enjoyed getting together with Michael Forrest, her new brother-in-law and the adopted son of Morena and Frank Anderson. Mike was the medical director of Bunker Eight and super busy all the time, so Rachael made allowances for Morena to see him.

  “—kness says he saw—” The voice from the phone sounded tired, or maybe it was just tired of dealing with old man Harkness.

  “Yeah, I know,” she answered with a fond smile for her husband as he walked into their farmhouse. “Donald said. I’ll head up there in a minute. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Main Research Lab

  Bunker Seven

  Wheeler Peak, New Mexico

  Jim Atkins sat on a stool next to his wife’s desk and watched the flurry of activity in the room with her. They would just get in the way at this point, and they bo
th knew it. Mary Maxwell had joined them, for posterity if nothing else. None of them were particularly busy these days, and this was the end of an era, so to speak.

  Jim wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.

  “Everything’s properly labeled, isn’t it?” Sabrina asked for what Jim was sure was the five thousandth time. “I just don’t want to lose anything.”

  Mary and Jim shared a quick glance and smirk as Sabrina looked the other way. Jim answered the same as he had several thousand times before. “Yes, Sabrina, everything is labeled correctly, and no, we won’t lose anything.”

  Their technicians were boxing up the remaining samples, testing results, unused supplies, and myriad other items with great care. Everything was going into permanent cold storage in the specially-designed vault sunk into the core of the mountain. This was one reason they’d chosen this site, Mary had explained after Jim had arrived from McMurdo. Near-impervious long-term storage for just about anything they’d need.

  And the cure for the zombie prion was something everyone wanted to protect. Just in case.

  Of course, they’d probably never need it again, since all the doses had been distributed, with extras, to all the bunkers, but you never knew. Always good to have a backup, at least from Jim’s perspective.

  He laughed, and both women turned to him, curious. He waved a hand. “I was just thinking, if we wanted real cold storage, we could just send the stuff back south with the Texas. They could leave it down there with Warner’s corpse.” When he realized both women were frowning at him, he shrugged. “What? I thought it was funny.”

  “Have you decided on your next area of research yet, boss?” Sabrina asked Mary. “All of AEGIS’s science resources at your disposal. What’s it going to be?”

  Mary shrugged, then rested her chin in her hand as she watched the techs work. “I have absolutely no idea. I’ve been focused on this for thirty years. I don’t know if I would know how to do any other research.” She didn’t even try to hide her yawn. “I’m tired, and I’m old,” she continued, touching the grey streaks in her hair. “I’ve been thinking about retiring and going to live near Rachel.”

  Jim nodded. “Austin’s a great place to live. Visited there once before Z-Day. Had lobster tacos at the Iron Cactus on 6th Street. Best tacos I ever had.”

  Sabrina gaped at him. “You can’t remember to put on a belt in the morning, but you can remember tacos you had thirty years ago in a place that doesn’t exist anymore?”

  Jim shrugged. “They were that good.”

  Mary laughed. “I somehow doubt they’re still around, Jim, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

  One of the techs walked up and held out a clipboard to Sabrina. “We’re almost finished, Mrs. Atkins. If you could sign this, I’d appreciate it.”

  Sabrina took the clipboard. “Lobster tacos. Ha!”

  Jim grinned and started to say something, but Sabrina turned to glare at him. In her thickest Aussie accent, she growled, “If you say anything about shrimp and barbies, I’m going to divorce you, Jim Atkins.” She sniffed and turned her nose up at him. “Besides, they’re called prawns.”

  Jim closed his mouth with a snap, and Mary just laughed.

  Police Station

  Angel Fire Free Zone

  “I understand that, Mr. Creel, but you can’t just drive as fast as you please. We have laws now. Again. Whatever.” Jennifer Shaw massaged her temples as she spoke into the phone, and her assistant Tracy passed her one of the rationed aspirin that they’d recently discovered in the depths of Bunker Seven’s storage.

  Jennifer mouthed the words “thank you” at Tracy and swallowed the pill with a sip of water from the glass on her desk. She’d about had it with Mr. Creel at this point. “Look, Louis, either stop driving so fast or I’m going to take away your damn car! Yes, that’s right, your car. I don’t give a shit who you are in this town and you know it! Now knock it the fuck off!”

  She slammed the phone down and nearly threw it across the room. She was sick and tired of dealing with people like him and found herself longing for the days of being a U.S. Marshal stuck at the bottom of the world. What she wouldn’t give to be able to just turn everything off for a few days. But no, she’d stupidly agreed to be both the police chief and the internal security director for Bunker Seven. They still housed thousands of people in the bunker, as well as using it for storage and emergency shelter.

  Fifteen thousand plus people and more refugees every day and she had to fight to find people willing to be police officers and do their damn jobs.

  The phone rang again, and this time, she did throw it across the room. Tracy ducked, this not being her first rodeo, and retrieved the phone with a calm Jennifer found disturbing. It continued to ring when Tracy put it back on the desk, but Jennifer had calmed down by then—somewhat, at least.

  “Angel Fire Police, how can—”

  “Hey, beautiful,” her husband, Bill, said, and suddenly, all Jennifer’s annoyance was gone. What the man did to her was unconscionable, but since she had the same effect on him, she wasn’t too keen on arguing about it. At least he said she had the same effect, anyway.

  “Hi,” she said, and Tracy smirked as Jennifer’s tone changed. Jennifer stuck her tongue out at her assistant to complete the image and continued. “How’s your day?”

  “Good, but busy. Got reports of walker activity out near Arroyo Seco. I’ll need to be here for a little while longer. Can you pick up Arturo?”

  Tracy was nodding as Jennifer looked over at her.

  “Yeah, I can get him. Just be safe and get home in time for dinner. I’m making linguini.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it. Love you.”

  “Love you back.” She hung up the phone.

  “You need to pick up the kiddo?” Tracy asked, confirming what she’d overheard.

  “Yeah, can you call the school to let them know I’m on my way?”

  “Will do. When’s his birthday? Next week, week after? Craig wanted to know when the party was.”

  Jennifer laughed. “Tell him it’s next week, and yes, there’s a sleepover. He’ll need a sleeping bag.” She stood up, grabbed her bag, and put on her duty belt. “You’re okay to cover?”

  “I’m a deputy, aren’t I? Creel’s terrible driving is about all the activity we’ve had in months! I think we’ll be good.”

  Jennifer nodded and smiled. “I think so too. And ‘good’ sounds nice.”

  EPILOGUE

  Z-Day + 29 years

  Presidential Command Center

  Bunker Five

  Mount Davis, Pennsylvania

  The presidential command center had been upgraded several times over the years, and the technicians had just finished their latest iteration. Some tech wiz somewhere had resurrected an old Air Force operation and launched gigantic “space balloons” into the upper atmosphere. These semi-permanent drone balloons provided long-distance communications and visual coverage of a giant swath of the country to the bunkers and their people.

  Since the last satellite had failed the year before and no new ones were going up anytime soon, they had to make do with what they had. But at least now they had somewhat reliable communications nationwide.

  Eden Blake looked up from her paperwork as the last technician left. Then she spoke into the mic on her shoulder. “We’re ready. Send her in.” A moment later, she stood as President Angela Gates entered the room. “Mrs. President, we’re all patched in, ma’am, and ready for the test.”

  “Very good, Ms. Blake. Thank you for taking the time away from your normal duties for this.”

  Eden shrugged. “My normal duties are whatever you say they are, Mrs. President.”

  Angela smiled. “Fair enough.” The president and her retinue took their seats, and Eden took her position behind and to the left of the president, watchful of everything and everyone in the room. The vice president, Darnell Lane, and his people were also present. Eden was looking forward to the upcoming inauguration, if only for
the rest she’d get.

  The election had gone quite well, with several good candidates, but Lane’s tireless campaigning and endorsements from many of the governors and military commanders had also helped him secure the win. It hadn’t hurt that former President Norman had thrown his considerable weight behind the man’s campaign before he had passed on.

  Eden had voted for him herself, having seen up close and personal what kind of man he was. She felt good about the country’s future in his hands, and that was all anyone could ask for.

  President Gates motioned to her aide, and the screens came up with video signals from various points around the country. Some were bunkers, but there had also been a handful of systems provided to certain high-placed and important people around the country.

  Eden recognized her parents in one corner and smiled as they noticed her and waved. She didn’t wave back, but they’d understand why. She pretended not to see the glances from the others around the room, but most everyone here was friendly, so she didn’t think very much of it.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, the last test was successful, and we now have nationwide long-distance communication again. It’s been a long eighteen months.” A general cheer and some applause broke out but died off as the president held up a hand. “We’ve accomplished a great deal, but there’s still more work to do. I wanted to check in with some of you, including some of our honored guests, to let you know some of our plans moving forward.”

  Gates referred to her paperwork and then looked up at Eden’s parents. “David, Kimberly, please let me be the first to congratulate you on your retirement. I understand you’ve moved to the Tacoma area?”

  Eden was pained to see her father looking older than his early fifties. Time, stress, and a zombie war had taken a toll on him. She was glad they were going to have some time to rest and relax. She knew the Hunters who had been assigned to them as guards, and she trusted them with her parents’ lives.