“What did you do?” Ryan asked.
Sean jumped back from the container. “Nothing. Just trying to open the door.”
The hum dropped lower and lower in both tone and volume.
“What’s going on?” Dani asked.
“It, uh, sounds like it’s shutting down,” Ryan told her.
“You mean, you did it?”
“We didn’t do anything,” Sean said. “I tried the door, but others have done that, too, and nothing happened then.”
“Maybe our container’s different,” she suggested.
“I guess it could be,” Sean said, but he didn’t believe it. Why would it be?
Ryan popped around the corner. “Help me get up on top. I want to take a look inside.”
“Use the door,” Sean suggested. With the brackets and hinges, it was as close to a ladder as they could get.
Ryan climbed up and looked over the side.
“Yeah. It’s off,” he said, not hiding his surprise. “I don’t know how, but it is.”
Sean wanted to see, too, so he climbed up at the other corner.
The two big fans sat side by side, aimed at the sky. Their blades were spinning more and more slowly until they came to a full stop.
“I think I can get down there,” Sean said.
If he was careful, he could maneuver through the blades. Below them on his side was an empty area more than wide enough for him to fit in.
“Not sure that’s such a good idea,” Dani said.
“Not sure it is, either,” Sean said, “but under the circumstances, if I can find out what happened, maybe we can use that to turn off the other ones.”
The radio remained silent for a moment, then Dani said, “You’re clear to go in.”
He glanced at Ryan. “You’ll have to help me.”
Ryan stretched out along the edge above the door, and held out his hand. Sean grabbed it, and lowered himself through the fan. For a second he worried that it would turn back on and cut him in half, but it remained as dead as it looked. Once his feet hit the bottom, he let go of Ryan and took a look around.
Most of the container seemed to be filled with large barrels that must have held the virus. He tapped on one and was surprised by the echo. It was empty.
Well, of course, that made sense. The box had been dispersing its contents for quite a while now, so some of the barrels would have to be empty. He knocked on the ones next to it. They, too, echoed back.
Frowning, he examined them for a moment, then used a small pair of cutters from his belt to hack through the tubes connected to the top of the first barrel.
“What are you doing?” Ryan asked.
Instead of answering, Sean cut the final tube, and tried to rock the barrel back and forth. Because of all the barrels on the other side, and the two metal straps that ran across the width of the container on his side, it didn’t move much.
“Hand me your bolt cutters,” he said.
“Why?”
“Just pass them down!”
Ryan handed him the large cutters. Sean got the tool’s jaw around the edge of the upper strap and bit into it. It took him a few minutes, but he was able to cut the strap in two. He bent the sides out of the way. The lower strap proved easier to slice through, and he was able to part it in about half the time.
No longer restrained, he yanked the barrel into the open space where he was standing, and squeezed around it into the spot where it had been. From there, he used the cutters to knock on all the barrels in the second row. Once he finished, he moved things around until he could reach the third row, then the row after that, and the row after that.
When he was done with the final row, he took a deep breath.
“Dani,” he said. “I know why it turned off.”
“Why?”
“It wasn’t anything we did. The damn thing is empty.”
__________
THE CONTAINER IN Dublin was not the first to shut off, nor was it the last. The first occurred in Wellington, New Zealand, in the parking lot of a small shopping center, precisely fifteen minutes before the one in Dublin. The last was twenty-seven minutes after Dublin, in Hawaii on the island of Oahu, just four blocks away from Waikiki Beach.
A few of the containers had experienced misfires on certain barrels. The operating software had been designed to skip over these and move on to the next. For the most part, though, the contents of each IDM had been delivered in full.
26
LAS CRUCES, NEW MEXICO
3:38 PM MOUNTAIN STANDARD TIME
PEREZ WAS NOT surprised by anything in the president’s speech.
The nature of the virus was bound to be discovered. But so what? No one would live long enough to develop a vaccine, let alone mass produce it in the quantities needed. And when the president said they would continue to try to find a way to turn off the IDMs, it might have sounded good, but in reality it meant next to nothing. By then, ninety-five percent of the virus had already been released, more than enough to achieve the Project’s goals.
And now the containers were all off, causing even more concern and speculation around the world.
As far as he was concerned, the more panic the better.
Perez had shaken his head at Homeland Security’s list of suggested safety measures—seal off doors and windows, avoid contact with anyone not in the home with you, take frequent showers and wash hands every thirty minutes, and on and on and on. Measures that, along with the twenty-four-hour curfew that would be nearly impossible to enforce, might have worked if they’d gone into effect before the IDMs went active.
But not now. The end was coming.
There was a single knock on his door, and Claudia stuck her head in. “Dr. Lassiter would like to speak with you.”
Perez smiled. Excellent. The doctor had saved him the effort of making the call himself.
“Video?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Claudia.”
As she left, he activated the video chat on his computer.
Dr. Lassiter looked stressed and tired.
“Good afternoon, Doctor. How can I help you?” Perez said.
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of Patricia Nakamura for several hours with no success. The last time I called, a man I’ve never seen before came on and told me she was no longer with NB89. With, not at. Do you know what he’s talking about?”
“Of course I do.”
The doctor waited, but when Perez didn’t add anything, he said, “Then you need to tell me. I’m the acting chairman of the council.”
“Patricia Nakamura is dead.”
“What?” Whatever explanation Dr. Lassiter had been expecting, that was not it.
“She was a problem and had to be removed.”
“You had her killed?”
“An unfortunate necessity, but one my men handled efficiently.”
“Your men?”
“Project Eden Security.”
“Those are our men. My men!” He paused. “Mr. Perez, I am placing you under arrest. You are to go to your quarters and—”
“Dr. Lassiter,” Perez cut in. “I think I need to correct you on something you said earlier. You are no longer acting chairman of the council. That position has been dissolved, and the council itself has been transitioned into an advisory role for the Project’s principal director.”
“The principal director? He’s alive?”
Perez smiled. “Yes. I would say the director is alive and well.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“But I believe you’re confusing things again. The former PD that you’re thinking of is undoubtedly dead. I, on the other hand, am not.”
“You? Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not the PD and you never will be.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Doctor. I’ve been in contact with nearly every Project facility, and it has been decided that this part of our plan needs a strong leader. A role, I’m sorry to say, you are not fit to fill. They have all agreed
with my decision to take over.” It wasn’t completely true. While he had been in contact with most bases, he hadn’t actually asked for any endorsements. He just told them he would be the one running this phase of the Project, and they had gone along with it, as he knew they would. When it came time for the next phase and he was still in charge, they’d go along with that, too.
“I don’t believe any of it,” the doctor said. “You are to step down, and break off all contact with the rest of the Project.”
“Now, Doctor,” Perez said, his voice dripping with faux compassion, “I think you’re forgetting that the security forces answer to me now. And if I tell them to, they will pay you the same type of visit they paid to former council member Nakamura.”
“You wouldn’t,” the doctor said, but the look in his eyes was not confident.
“You do have another choice,” Perez said. “It would please me if you serve on the advisory council. People would still see you as a person of influence. Now, of course this means you would back any decision I make, but that seems preferable to a bullet in the back of the head, wouldn’t you say?”
“I…I…”
“I have a team within five minutes of your location. I could call them now, if you’d like.”
“No,” the doctor said quickly. He stared at his keyboard for several seconds. “Can I…can I at least think about the offer?”
“Of course. I’ll give you sixty seconds.”
It took the doctor only twenty-one.
27
SIERRA NEVADA MOUNTAINS, CALIFORNIA
7:53 PM PACIFIC STANDARD TIME
CONTRARY TO WHAT Martina’s mother had thought, their satellite radio was just as ineffective at the cabin as it had been when they were driving up the ravine. They had also tried the regular broadcast radios—the one that was part of the old ’70s-era stereo in the cabin and the one in the Webers’ car—but all they picked up was static. Cell phones were useless, too, not even a single bar of signal, so the two families were completely cut off.
The afternoon had been spent taking stock of what they had, then playing a tense game of Monopoly organized by the two moms to distract their children. But after only thirty minutes, everyone gave up. There was no ignoring what was going on.
“How long are we going to have to stay here?” Laurie, Riley’s twin sister, asked.
“There’s no way to know that yet, honey,” her mom said.
“We’ll stay as long as we need to,” her father added in a voice sharper than needed.
“This place is so…boring. What are we supposed to do?” Laurie asked.
“Sweetie, it’ll be okay,” her mother told her. “You can read, play games, go for a walk.”
“That’s probably not a good idea,” Martina’s father cut in. “We don’t want others to know we’re here.”
“Ken, a walk won’t hurt,” Martina’s mother said. “There’s probably no one within a mile of us.”
“We can’t know that for sure, and we don’t have any more room for anyone else.” His eyes strayed to Mr. Weber as he finished.
“So we have to stick around the cabin? That’s even worse!” Laurie said. Unlike Riley, she was more social, and used to hanging out with her friends, talking about stupid things Martina had never been interested in.
“That’s enough,” Mr. Weber said. “You know why we’re here. I don’t want you causing any problems.”
“I don’t know why we’re here,” Laurie countered. “Because of some stupid things on TV? Seriously, Dad, I bet we’re all going to look like idiots.”
“Enough,” her father said again.
She glared at him, her lips pressed tightly together, then stood up. “Not talking about it doesn’t mean it’s not stupid!” She disappeared down the hallway that led to the bathroom and the cabin’s two bedrooms.
“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Weber said, an embarrassed smile on her face. “She’s just…”
“A teenager?” Martina’s mom suggested.
Mrs. Weber looked relieved. “Yes. Exactly.”
“Hey, we’re teenagers, too,” Pamela said.
Her mother patted her on the leg, and said in a low, conspiratorial voice, “Yes, but you all understand what’s going on and can deal with it.”
“I’m going out to get some fresh air,” Riley whispered to Martina. “Wanna come?”
Martina nodded, and the two girls climbed to their feet.
“Where are you going?” Mr. Weber asked.
“To check out the snow,” Martina said.
Donny jumped up. “Hey, I want to check out the snow, too.”
“It’s going to be cold.”
“I don’t care.”
Martina glanced at Riley, who shrugged that it was okay with her.
“All right,” Martina said to Donny. “Come on. Anyone else?”
There were no other takers.
As they were putting on their shoes and jackets, Martina’s father said, “Stay close to the cabin.”
“We will,” Martina told him.
Night had settled over the mountains, and the snow that had been falling since not long after their arrival had created a blanket of white over the ground at least half a foot thick.
“It’s so quiet,” Riley said.
Martina had noticed it, too. The cover of snow seemed to have absorbed all the sounds of the woods, leaving behind only a peaceful hush.
“Whoa,” Donny said. “This is awesome.”
He started to run out from under the covered porch.
“Hey, hold on,” Martina said. “You can play in it in the morning.”
“Forget that!”
She grabbed the back of his jacket, stopping him. “Donny, if you trip over a rock buried under the snow and break your arm, what do you think Dad’s going to say?”
“I’m not going to break my arm,” he scoffed.
“Ugh,” she said, and let go. “Your funeral if you do.”
He ran out into the snow and promptly fell down, skidding for several feet.
“Woo-hoo!” he yelled, laughing.
“Boys,” Riley said, smirking.
“Brothers,” Martina corrected her.
“Yeah, I don’t have to worry about that.”
“No, just a twin that’s a jerk.”
Riley smiled. “At least she makes me look good.” She pulled a set of keys out of her pocket. “Come on.”
“Hold on. We can’t go anywhere.”
“I know that,” Riley replied as she jogged over to her family’s car. The doors were unlocked, so she got in on the driver’s side and motioned for Martina to get in on the other. As Martina opened the door and slid into the seat, Riley reached into the back and pulled a cloth bag off the floor. She fumbled around inside it for a moment, then pulled out a computer cable. From her pocket she retrieved an iPod, and used the cable to connect it to the radio.
“I downloaded the new Patrolled by Radar album yesterday. Have you listened to it yet?”
Martina had heard of the band, but didn’t know their music. “Not yet.”
“It’s great.”
Riley stuck the key into the ignition, and turned it so that the electrical power came on. As soon as the radio lit up, she reached over to punch the button for the auxiliary input.
“Wait!” Martina said, grabbing her friend’s hand.
Riley looked at her, confused.
“Listen.” Martina turned the volume up.
Static filled the car, but within the pops and snaps there was a voice. It would come in clear for a few seconds, then fade to almost nothing for a few more before cycling up again.
“…homes. So far there…arrests, most in connection with looting at… reiterated the importance of obeying the curfew…said the majority of the people seemed to…have also responded to several reports of gun…five deaths since the president’s speech this morn…listening to the voice of San Francisco on…”
When the voice faded away this time, it didn’t immedia
tely return. Martina’s hand shot to the dial to try to regain the signal, but she couldn’t tune it back in. She moved up the dial, searching for anything.
A signal suddenly came in loud and strong. “…out of Washington confirms that the terror boxes have ceased working around the world. Several of the boxes are now being examined by experts, but no new information is available. The Department of Homeland Security has reiterated the need for all citizens to adhere to the nationwide curfew, reminding those who are thinking about violating it that they will be arrested and detained for the duration of the emergency.”
“Holy shit,” Riley said.
“I’m going to get the others.”
Martina threw open her door and rushed back to the cabin.
“The radio!” she yelled as she entered. “It’s working now!”
“What?”
“How?”
Mr. Weber said something about nighttime atmospheric conditions as everyone in the living room donned their jackets and hurried out to the car. Donny had already joined Riley. The only one missing was Laurie, presumably still pouting in one of the back rooms.
For an hour they crowded around the open car doors and took turns sitting inside as they listened to the news and a replay of the president’s speech. When the newscaster started reading information they’d heard twice already, Martina’s dad reached over and turned the ignition off.
“Dad!” Martina said.
“We’ve heard enough,” he told her. “We should all go in and get some sleep. It’s been a long day.”
“He’s right,” Mr. Weber said. “Come on, everyone. Let’s go.”
Martina was at the head of the pack, so she was the first to see Laurie standing on the porch near the front door. The girl’s eyes were wide in shock, and she was absently chewing on her lower lip.
“Were you able to hear the reports?” Martina asked.
Laurie gave her an almost nonexistent nod, but her lip remained sucked between her teeth.
“Good thing we came up here, I guess.”
Mrs. Weber walked over and put an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “Come on, honey. Sleep will do us all some good.”
Laurie allowed herself to be turned and ushered back into the house.
Pale Horse (A Project Eden Thriller) Page 18