2136: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel

by Matthew Thrush

  ‘We didn’t,’ she said.

  ‘What do you mean, you didn’t? Then who did?’

  ‘I mean, we didn’t know she was going to die. We thought the serum was working. She hadn’t shown any signs of the previous candidates and her vitals were strong.’

  ‘Then why keep her locked up?’

  ‘All candidates are kept secluded from the rest in case of an outbreak.’

  ‘Outbreak?’ She can’t be serious. ‘You placed me in the same room of someone you knew was contagious with some deadly disease? You people are sick!’ I shouted.

  I started ripping at the restraints; kicking and thrashing to break free.

  ‘Let me go!’ I yelled.

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t do that,’ she said calmly. ‘It’s for your own safety.’

  ‘How is this for my own safety? You afraid I’m going to contract the same disease that killed Zoey? Think I’m going to turn into some bloodthirsty zombie and try to eat your face off?’ I chomped my teeth at her.

  She didn’t look the bit perturbed.

  ‘For now, the restraints will stay on. But if you prove cooperative, we will discuss taking them off.’

  My face felt hot and the air heavy. I could feel my hair sticking to my face and sweat pouring down my back.

  ‘Now, I’m going to ask you again nicely, and I would like for you to answer my questions. What you say is very important for further development and could save lives.’

  ‘Whose lives?’ I said through clenched teeth. ‘Yours? Or the candidates you have imprisoned in here like me?’

  ‘The candidates are not prisoners, and neither are you. They are all volunteers of Precinct 13 and have come willingly to—’

  ‘Precinct 13?’ I asked, cutting her off. ‘Precinct 13 doesn’t exist. It was wiped off the map years ago. Everyone knows that.’

  That wicked smile of hers returned.

  ‘What you’ve been told is a lie,’ she said. ‘Precinct 13 is very much active and thriving. The people there have been doing so for quite some time under the close eye and protection of SIND.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Why hasn’t anyone seen Precinct 13 if it still exists?’

  Dr. A waved her hands in the air.

  ‘Never mind Precinct 13, we’ll get to that later. Right now we have more important things to discuss. Answer my question,’ she said with more force.

  ‘And why should I?’ I mimicked back with equal disgust.

  Without blinking, ‘Because if you want your uncle to live, you’ll do as I say.’

  She was lucky the restraints held me back. I would have ripped her face to shreds with my clawing fingers. Maybe it was good they had me tied down. I was turning into an animal, just like Zoey.

  After my rage had subsided marginally, Dr. A continued. ‘Are you ready to cooperate?’ she asked.

  I glared at her.

  ‘Good,’ she said. ‘Now tell me, why did Zoey die?’

  Because I smashed her over the head with a sharp object until she stopped moving, I repeated in my head, but instead said, ‘Apoptosis.’

  ≈ Chapter 43 ≈

  Dr. A’s eyes lit up and she leaned in even closer.

  ‘Go on,’ she encouraged. ‘What makes you believe she died of cell death?’

  ‘The blood is the obvious factor,’ I said. ‘She had blood spewing from her eyes. Bleeding orifices can be an indicator of cell death. And, with the blood being a tar-like black, that kind of points to a non-physiological apoptosis reaction due to some form of exterior trauma or infection.’

  ‘Would that be enough to kill her?’

  ‘Over time, yes. Her body must have been fighting off this contagion for a while before it got to this level. Cell death to this extent doesn’t just happen over night,’ I said.

  ‘We gave her the first dose of the antigen two nights ago,’ Dr. A said. ‘She hadn’t been administered any doses before or since.’

  Hmmm, that’s not good.

  ‘Whatever you gave her, her body’s antibodies could not fight back. Cell death doesn’t just happen that quickly without help. The only thing I can think is that this foreign antigen adhered with and mutated her cells instead of killing them off one at a time.’

  ‘So you’re saying she died from a form of cell degeneration?’ Dr. A asked.

  ‘Something like that,’ I said. ‘But I’m no molecular physicist. I’ve only read books on it.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know of any book that can teach what you just did,’ she said. ‘You’re even more impressive than I heard.’

  I blinked my eyes and looked at her. I had been staring at my hands the entire time. I thought if I didn’t look directly into the doctor’s eyes, I wouldn’t see her eyes staring back at me. I could still see Zoey’s body.

  ‘What do you mean? Do I know you?’ I asked.

  The doctor stood up and walked over to me. She retrieved a key from her side pocket and held it near my wrists.

  ‘I know you,’ she said.

  She dangled the key by my restrained wrists.

  ‘If I take these off, will you promise to stay calm?’ she asked, motioning to the chains.

  I shrugged.

  ‘If you do anything stupid I can’t keep them from tying you back up,’ she added.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘Where could I go anyway? I’m trapped in a box a mile beneath the ocean.’

  Dr. A scrutinized my words for a few seconds, making up her mind whether or not to release me.

  ‘What’s the point in fighting, anyway?’ I said. ‘If it’s true, and Zoey died from some virus-like strain, then it’s only a matter of time before I end up like her.’

  ‘That’s not likely,’ the doctor said, unlatching the first cuff around my left wrist.

  A moment later the second was off too. The chains clanged to the floor and bounced against the metal legs of the chair. The moment the steel was off my skin I felt like I could breathe again.

  I rubbed my wrists with my hands, glad to be free of the harnesses, and exhaled a deep sigh.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said.

  The doctor placed the key back in her pocket and circled around me.

  ‘What about the ankles?’ I asked.

  ‘One step at a time. If you give me what I want, and you cooperate, then we’ll talk. But first, we need to build trust,’ she said from behind me.

  I guess she was right. I didn’t trust her as much as I could trust my own emotions. Who knew what I could do if unchained completely. Would I try to escape the moment I had the chance? Or, would I go into survival mode like I had with Zoey? I didn’t want to think about what I had done, so I changed the subject.

  ‘What is SIND doing down here, anyway? Why operate in a secret facility miles under the water? Why not in one of the Proc ships, or, somewhere on land? That seems more logical to me.’

  ‘That’s because,’ she started, walking back around with something else in her hands, ‘SIND prefers to work without anyone looking over their shoulders.’

  ‘What do they have to fear?’ I asked. ‘If all of the remaining countries agreed, and are working together, why the secrecy? SIND is a superpower. Who could they possibly be worried about?’

  The doctor pulled up the stool beside me.

  ‘SIND is an ideal that was established because the world needed it. At no time in history have all countries come together in one agreement and plan. And just as history tends to repeat itself, the U.S. intends to plan for the worst in case one of the other countries decides they no longer need SIND. This facility is one of the United States’ private departments. We act in covert, independent units so that if one is compromised, we all don’t go down in the fire. It’s crucial you remember that just because a treaty was signed does not mean that the world is ready to cooperate fully and be friends. There will always be those who want to harm us, or acquire more. It’s only a matter of time before someone decides they want to extend their control and attacks us.’

  ‘Hasn�
��t that already happened?’ I asked.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You know, the bombs in Papua New Guinea and Northern Africa.’ I hesitated, unsure whether I should use the name of the rogue outfit.

  ‘You’re referring to the clandestine group known as Whisper,’ she stated.

  I nodded.

  She leaned back in her stool and ran her hands through her black hair.

  ‘Whisper operates outside the jurisdiction of SIND. I don’t know much about the rogue group, but I do know that SIND has teams constantly on the hunt for any collaborators. My focus is here, however,’ she said, motioning to the forest behind her. ‘I’ll stick to my boring agronomy and arboriculture and leave the violence to more qualified individuals.’

  ‘You mean the Pavers?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The biologically enhanced soldiers with the parasite super suits,’ I clarified.

  Her eyes lit up with recognition.

  ‘They’re actually WORGS,’ she said. ‘I’ve never heard anyone call them “Pavers” before. Why do you call them that?’

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  ‘It’s what we’ve always called them, ever since I can remember. I never asked why. I always assumed that’s what they were called. Why do you call them WORGS?’

  ‘It’s an acronym for Weapon Operated, Remote Garrison Soldier,’ she said.

  ‘SIND’s super soldiers,’ I grumbled.

  ‘Mhm,’ she hummed. ‘And how do you feel about these men?’ she asked.

  Men? How could she call the murderers of hundreds of thousands of innocent women and children, including my two parents, men? They were animals—pure vulgar bleeders, wretched rotters of insolence and annihilation. They weren’t men. They lost their humanity when they signed their souls away to the parasite leeched to their back.

  I could feel the muscles in my jaw tighten just thinking about what the Pavers had done to both of my parents and Roxx. Roxx! In my own selfish blindness, I had almost forgotten why we had even come here in the first place. My initial instinct was to run and hide, but now, I didn’t know what the best plan of action was. If Roxx was here, as Parker had believed, that meant they were both locked up somewhere on one of the levels of the SIND facility. And if I ever wanted to find them, and get out, I’d need to be patient and earn my captors’ trust.

  I tried to pretend something was in my eye and rubbed my eyelids with the base of my palms to hide the tear that was forming.

  ‘I don’t much care for them,’ I finally said, after settling my nerves just enough to keep from venting my disgust. I figured it best to play mildly tolerant before spilling my guts of the hate I held for the Pavers. Luckily, I hadn’t seen any Pavers, or WORGS, in the facility. And hopefully it stayed that way. I had a plan.

  ‘Neither do I,’ she said with a wink. ‘They kind of creep me out.’

  That caught my attention. Was she serious?

  ‘Really?’ I said. ‘I’ve never heard of anyone in SIND not liking the Pavers. Why don’t you like them?’

  The doctor appeared to be picking her words carefully.

  ‘Seeing as we’re building trust…’ I added with a sly grin on my lips.

  That made the doctor smile.

  ‘All right then, if we’re being completely honest, they make me uncomfortable.’

  ‘How so?’ I asked. ‘Because they’re half human and half machine?’

  ‘Precisely,’ she said. ‘Seeing as I’m a scientist, I don’t much know why it bothers me; but it does. The suits were never fully tested. SIND had a prototype, but it only passed preliminary screenings. But with the ensuing fallout from the nukes and EMPs, SIND needed to put something into rotation to regain control.’

  ‘So there are side effects to these suits?’ I asked. ‘Does SIND know about this?’

  ‘Of course, but they choose to sweep it under the rug. The CNSEL’s—Central Nervous System Enhancement Leeches—were never meant to be permanent alterations to the soldiers. They were only supposed to stay in rotation for a few years, and then be panned out with a newer, more reliable system.’

  ‘Why haven’t they been?’ I asked.

  ‘I have my suspicions, but nothing concrete,’ she said.

  ‘Why are you telling me all of this?’ I said. ‘How do you know I won’t tell the Resistance the moment I get out of here? Aren’t you worried I could be a spy for Whisper?’

  Her gaze was steady, but for a moment there when her eyes darted to the ground, she had some doubt.

  ‘Because you’ll do the right thing,’ she said after a brief pause. ‘You always do.’

  I wouldn’t be so sure about that, I thought. ‘I’ve been known to make some atrocious choices.’

  ‘Haven’t we all,’ she said with a stretch of regret creased across her brow.

  She took a breath and leveled her shoulders.

  ‘And,’ she continued with a return to her confident air, ‘because we need you. You’re unique and we could use someone of your intelligence and talent.’

  ‘What talent?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ll show you,’ she said and poked my arm with the object she had been holding in her hand before I was able to react.

  The supersonic jet stream syringe hissed with the release of air and injected the serum contained inside beneath my skin.

  ≈ Chapter 44 ≈

  ‘What was that?’ I asked. ‘I thought you said I could trust you.’

  ‘You can,’ she said. ‘The serum I injected into your bloodstream is a pathogen synthesized to destroy other foreign pathogens or bacteria. If there are any contaminated cells in your blood, it’ll eliminate them. It’s a way of flushing out your system.’

  ‘I thought you said I was fine…’

  My held felt woozy and the room began to tilt on its axis. My head flopped to the side and I felt like I was falling. I knew I was still sitting in the chair, but I felt like someone had flipped me on my head and was spinning me in circles.

  ‘This is just a precaution,’ she said. ‘Disorientation only lasts a few seconds. You’ll feel normal soon.’

  She stood up and placed the syringe back on the table behind me. I couldn’t see what she was fiddling with, but I could hear her shuffling through glass vials or containers.

  ‘You say this pathogen will seek out and eradicate any foreign and nefarious pathogens in my body, but why didn’t it work with Zoey? Or any of your other victims?’

  The doctor swooped into view holding examination equipment.

  ‘They were too far along in the process for us to do anything,’ she said.

  ‘And what makes you think I’m not?’

  ‘That’s what I’m trying to find out,’ she said.

  The doctor nudged my mouth open with her thumb. My jaw fell without resistance. My tongue hung out as she placed the small mirror in the back of my throat and shined a light into my open mouth. My eyes burned as she then shone the same light into my eyes. She checked my ears, nose, and extremities with probing fingers before placing the stethoscope under my shirt, just above my left breast.

  The metal was cold and my body wiggled the moment it touched my skin. The doctor retrieved her hand from my shirt and looped the stethoscope around her neck.

  ‘Pulse is good. No sign of decay in the Eustachian tube or optic nerve. Looks like we caught it in time. You’re lucky,’ she said.

  My fingers tingled with a light stinging sensation as the warm blood rushed to fill in the void.

  ‘I thought you said I was fine,’ I said.

  ‘I lied,’ she said with a curt grin. ‘But, I’m glad you’re all right. With this virus, there is no way to tell how quickly it metabolizes and mutates. Some victims die within minutes, while others take a few hours, or weeks. So, the fact that you’re still breathing is a good thing.’

  ‘Thanks, Doc. That’s real reassuring. Tell me, was that really a pathogen that could fight off the virus’ cells?’ I asked. I hadn’t regained all of my mobilit
y yet so I just glared at her.

  ‘In theory, yes,’ she said, ‘but it hasn’t always worked.’

  ‘How often has it worked?’

  The doctor held my gaze and placed her hand on my knee.

  ‘Once,’ she said, with relief in her voice.

  Once? I’m the only person who the synthesized serum had ever worked on. I didn’t know whether to be ecstatic or petrified.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she said, sensing my inner demons at work, ‘if the virus was going to harm you, it would have already done so.’

  ‘How do you know that?’ I said with heat in my tone. My fingers bent at the knuckles. The paralysis was nearly lifted.

  ‘Because you’d already be dead,’ she said matter-of-factly.

  The calmness and no nonsense response made me nervous. I felt like she had just punched me in the stomach.

  The doctor handed me a small pouch with a straw protruding from the silver aluminum.

  ‘What’s this?’ I asked.

  ‘Water,’ she said. ‘The serum tends to dehydrate the host. You’ll want to drink all of this.’

  I took the pouch from her and scooped the straw in my mouth with my lips. I pressed down and sucked in. The cool liquid within the silver bag was delicious. I drained the entire contents within seconds, squeezing and twisting the metallic casing until it was a knotted ball.

  Whatever that was, it wasn’t water. No water I had ever drunk tasted that good or sweet.

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, and handed it back to her.

  The doctor tossed the empty pouch in the bin behind her and stood up.

  ‘Someone will be in to check on you shortly,’ she said.

  ‘Where are you going? Take off these other chains. I told you I’m not going to try to escape,’ I lied.

  ‘It’s protocol, dear,’ she said. ‘Don’t take it the wrong way. All volunteers who come through the program go through the same indoctrination procedure.’

  Volunteer? I wasn’t a volunteer. And if this was standard protocol that also meant others had come through here. How many had made it through? How many had died a short and agonizing death like Zoey? My heart ached for the little girl. I hoped she hadn’t suffered, that it had been quick when she went.