“We’ll, it’s a start.”
“Yes, and don’t let an old man in a white dress buy your loyalty with a shiny button. If those slavers come back here again anytime soon, then we’re all dead. And mark my words, if the people here knew of some place with high walls and armed guards, you can bet your ass they’d already be gone.” Larry closed the hatch gently, conscious of the bomb sitting in the trunk of his truck and also eager to stop Sheriff Dana from sniffing around too much. “Look, Dana,” Larry said, drawing close to her. “Things are about to change around here, and I need to know whether or not I can trust you.”
Dana let out a deep sigh.
Larry was taking a big chance bringing her in, especially now that she’d been given some authority, but they’d clicked from the start, hadn’t they? And sheriff or not, he wanted her on his side, and he could only hope she felt the same way.
Alvarez
Alvarez’ suite at the Grand America Hotel, Salt Lake City, UT
The ground-floor suite at the Grand America Hotel that Alvarez now called home represented the peak of Old World opulence, and he was loving every moment of it. Just because civilization had crumbled, it didn’t mean one had to forgo good taste.
Anita lay on the pillow-top mattress of their super-king-sized bed, the soft, silky sheets made from expensive Egyptian cotton. The décor was modern but with just enough dark wood to make the old school elite feel perfectly at home. Alvarez settled into a plush, studded leather seat with a cigar he’d snatched from the gift shop and a glass of brandy from the lounge bar.
Before him was Benjamin Hud, who insisted on being called Bud after seeing the initials sewn into the elastic band of his briefs.
“Can I get you a cigar, Bud?”
Bud shook his head. He looked frightened, and Alvarez was sure it had something to do with the confused string of questions surely running through the man’s head. Where’s Harry? Who the hell is Alvarez, and why is he acting as if he knows me?
“I was worried you wouldn’t make it,” Alvarez said, almost sounding concerned. “I take it you received the instructions I left for you.”
The fingers of Bud’s left hand felt for the scar on his neck. “You left me nothing. I don’t know who you are. Where’s Dr. Thomson?”
Alvarez smiled. “Even The Shift hasn’t done a thing to erase that charming edge of yours, Bud.”
Bud remained quiet. No doubt he was trying to figure out if Alvarez was going to let him live.
“I am Harry Thomson. Hard to believe, isn’t it? There are many of us in here, Bud. If you could only see the world through our eyes.” Alvarez drained the glass and set it on the table beside him with a clink. “I’m sure you have a million questions, and all of them will be answered in time, but first I need to know if you read the chip I implanted in your neck.”
Bud nodded that he had.
“Good. So you understand what I need you to do?”
“Tie up any loose ends.”
The tip of Alvarez’ cigar glowed red hot as he drew in a mouthful of smoke. “I need you to ensure no one attempts to reverse what I’ve started. So I’ll ask you once, and I want the truth. Did you destroy the Brookhaven facility?”
“Sky high, but I was nearly killed by one of your scientists.”
Alvarez waved the cigar in the air dismissively. “Yes, well, I couldn’t afford to insulate everyone from the effects now, could I?”
“The information on the chip, it said you were holding my wife, my kid.” Bud paused. “My memories. The video said you’d give them all back after I did what you asked.”
“Oh, I will,” Alvarez replied, feeling the lie roll off his tongue with practiced ease. “I assume that since you’ve reached Salt Lake City you’ve already destroyed the second target?”
“The lab in North Dakota?” Bud’s eyes dropped. “Not yet.”
Alvarez raised an eyebrow and the temperature in the room seemed to drop 5 degrees. Even Anita, who didn’t have a clue what the two men were talking about, propped herself up on one elbow to get a better look.
“You’re having second thoughts, then? Should I assume you don’t love your family?”
“I don’t remember my family,” Bud shot back, maybe a little too quickly. “You told me in that video that I loved them and showed me pictures and promised I could have my old life back when all was said and done, so I guess you could say I’ve taken you at your word, but to answer your question, no. I’m not having second thoughts.”
“Good. Then what’s the holdup?”
“The truck I was driving, the one with the explosives, it was... stolen. But I have a good idea where it is.”
“And what of the other patients? How do you intend to find and dispose of them?”
“Once the facilities are destroyed, I’m sure they won’t matter anymore.”
Alvarez smiled a devilish smile. “How right you are.”
“There is one problem, though.”
“Oh, and what would that be?”
“The man who stole my truck may be at a refugee camp north of here.”
Another drag on Alvarez’ cigar, this one long and hard. “It’s a place I’m familiar with.”
“His name is Larry. If he’s still there, he may make things ... difficult. Man’s a weasel. He’ll think I’ve come to seek revenge for stranding me on the side of the road. Can’t you just send in your men to grab the explosives?”
Alvarez shook his head. “Several of my best men have been wounded in a firefight at the camp. I’m afraid that at the moment that’ll be quite impossible, but I think I know a way to get them to trust you.”
Bud was bobbing his head up and down as Alvarez explained his plan, looking suddenly far more optimistic. “On second thought,” Bud said, “maybe I will have that cigar.”
Finn
Orchard, Rainbowland, UT
Johnson was collecting apples in a wicker basket when Finn approached her. A bandage covered her right bicep. A machete hung from a loop in her belt, presumably taken from one of the dead attackers.
“I wasn’t sure if you made it or not,” Finn said.
“Almost in one piece,” Johnson replied, raising her bandaged arm into the air.
Several of the cult children were out as well, picking fruit from the tree. It wasn’t a secret anymore that Rainbowland was running dangerously low on food. Many of the refugees had arrived with stockpiles of whatever cans and perishables they were able to scrape together, but it wasn’t long before all that was gone and people began looking to All Father for handouts. It certainly wasn’t on account of laziness. Many of them were too scared to leave the compound. Not surprisingly, the prevailing mood in the camp was one of sheer terror. It wasn’t safe where they were, but out there, things were far, far worse. Either way, the end result had been a population too frightened to venture out to replenish the dwindling supplies.
Johnson plucked another apple and let it fall into her basket.
Finn was amazed at her gracefulness, given her dominating size and muscularity.
“A small group went out this morning for supplies,” Johnson said, seeming to read the thoughts etched in the concern on his face. “Running out for cans doesn’t seem like a sustainable solution to me, though.”
“Neither is picking apples.”
“You got a better idea? I don’t see you holding a basket.”
Finn held up his hands. “Hey, I’m not criticizing. I’m just worried. No one here knows much about agriculture, besides All Father.”
“He used to be a farmer.”
“Yeah, that’s what I heard, too, but if the rumors are true he wasn’t very good at it. ‘Parently had a handful of failed crops before his daughter started speaking in tongues.”
Johnson laughed, dimples forming in her cheeks. “Don’t get me started on those quacks. I’m only thankful they haven’t tried to convert me. You weren’t here when that guy Larry joined up. The whole thing was creepy; they dunked his ass in water
till he nearly drowned.”
Finn grabbed an apple and tossed it in Johnson’s basket. “I’m not sure what to make of him. On the one hand, he seems to be trying to open the cult’s eyes to some very real and present dangers, but on the other, I’m just not sure about him.”
“Trust me,” Johnson said. “I know what you mean.”
The tattoo on Johnson’s forearm caught Finn’s attention and reminded him of why he’d come out here to find her. “Have you seen Bob around?”
Johnson paused in the act of plucking an apple. “He didn’t make it, Finn. I tried as best I could to protect him, but in all the chaos ... ”
Finn felt his insides tie up in knots. “It’s not your fault.”
“My reasons for wanting to keep him alive weren’t entirely selfless,” Johnson said, turning around to look at Finn. Her eyes were dark brown and had a depth he hadn’t noticed before. “You may be the only other person here who knows what it’s like to be floating around like a ghost, not knowing who you really are. It’s not nearly as liberating as people seem to think.”
“We aren’t the only ones,” Finn told her. “There’s a young girl named Nikki who was taken during the raid. She can’t remember either, but she has an ability I don’t quite understand.”
“Ability?”
“She sees people’s lost memories.”
Johnson laughed. “Oh, Finn, I think you need to get yourself hydrated and while you’re at it why not get some real clothes, that one-piece whatchamacallit can’t possibly be comfortable.”
He smiled. “Maybe if I join the cult they’ll give me a new outfit.”
“At least it’d be an improvement.”
“I’m not kidding about that girl, though.” he said, not allowing her to squirm away from an uncomfortable topic. “Nikki was able to see the only thing I can remember from before.”
“What kind of thing? The name of your tailor?”
“Funny,” Finn rubbed an apple against his overalls and took a bite. “No, just a field with tall grass I guess I used to know. Not sure where or what I was doing there.”
The sudden change in Johnson’s expression startled Finn.
“What?”
“Does it look like a wheat field?”
“You know it, too, don’t you?”
Johnson didn’t respond, but Finn could already tell she’d been there.
“The first day it happened,” Finn said. “I saw a woman who’d suffered a full wipe drawing a picture of that same field. Now you. What do you think it could mean?”
“I’m not sure.” Johnson set down the basket and ran her finger along the tattoo on her forearm. “I’ve been thinking about these numbers a lot lately, what they might mean. Could they be some kind of file number or maybe ... ?”
“A password?” Finn said, completing her thought.
“When you visited Tevatron’s office in Las Vegas, did you find anything in the computers?”
“I couldn’t get them working,” Finn said. “There wasn’t any power, but I did find this.” Finn reached into his pocket and handed her a crumpled letter.
July 1st, 2017
To: All departments
From: Dr. Harry Thomson
Subject: Release form submittal
Please be advised that all release forms procured from test subjects have yet to be remanded to my office. The deadline is no later than the end of the month.
Subjects:
Blackwood, Joanne (received)
Inn, Francis (received)
Johnson, Silvia (still outstanding)
Signed,
Dr. Harry Thomson
Head of Research and Development
Tevatron Industries
Johnson read it over at least once and then sighed.
“Francis?”
“Yeah, I know. Don’t rub it in, Silvia.”
“Well, according to this list, there’s a least one other person in the same boat as us. Someone who may have some more information.”
Finn took back the paper. “Joanne Blackwood. Although, I’d give anything for an hour with this Harry Thomson character. The head of research and development. Bob called it Project Arrow.”
“And we were the guinea pigs.”
“Consensual guinea pigs.”
“Yeah, just like a man to say that. It isn’t rape if it’s consensual.”
“I’m just saying, according to this paper, we agreed to be thrown into giant test tubes filled with pink goo.”
Johnson shuddered visibly. “Maybe you did, but even that paper of yours says my consent form was still outstanding. When you woke up underground, what kind of info did you find on the lab computers?”
“I didn’t think to check them,” Finn admitted, almost embarrassed. “When the roof started falling in, the last thing on my mind was checking computers.”
“Then we need to head back there and hope the power hasn’t gone out yet.”
Finn finished the apple he was eating and tossed the core on the ground. “It was a solar plant with a ton of mirrors, I know that much.”
“That might not mean jack squat if the place has been damaged,” Johnson said.
“Then we head out first thing tomorrow morning.”
Just then, a loud commotion drew their attention. Angry voices came from a crowd over by the main compound. Finn and Johnson headed in that direction, and they didn’t need to get very close to see what was going on. Larry was standing on a folding chair, wearing his cult uniform – brown shirt and navy-blue slacks – addressing a crowd of refugees assembled before him.
“ ... Next time, they could roll in here and take all of us or kill everyone in Rainbowland, and guess what we could do about it?” Larry asked rhetorically, fomenting the crowd like a true politician. “Absolutely nothing.”
Even from here, Finn caught sight of Lou, practically shaking his fist in the air.
“ ... the cult might stand for love and peace, but those are exactly the sort of mushy sentiments that’ll get every single last one of you killed. And forget the idea of leaving, ‘cause it’s even more dangerous out there than it is in here.”
More trickled in to listen as those assembled cheered Larry on.
“ ... I can make you safe!” Larry shouted, his arms sweeping the land before him. “If we work together, we can build walls, and towers guarded by men with guns. We don’t need to be afraid anymore. That first raid was nothing more than a test, and we failed that test. All Father failed that test, and many of us were killed because of it. I’ve tried to talk to him. Many of you saw that during the town meeting. I’ve talked till I’m blue in the face. He won’t listen to me. But maybe ... just maybe, if you speak as one, he’ll listen to all of you.” Larry began to chant. “Cease the peace ... Cease the peace.”
The chant was taken up by the crowd, and soon the volume of their collective fury was enough to bring All Father to the window of his office. His eyes locked on Larry, and the raw anger Finn saw was startling.
Finn let out a deep sigh. “I have a bad feeling this isn’t going to end well.”
Larry Nowak
All Father’s office, Rainbowland, UT
All Father’s wiry frame sat hunched in his chair, his spine resting against the thin fabric, his chest moving at a steady, if not slightly agitated, rhythm. Flanking him on either side were the cult elders, among them Timothy, whose ruddy features were particularly flush. Larry was across from the old man, watching the bony index finger of Peter’s right hand tapping against the top of the desk as he waited for an answer.
All Father’s question had been simple enough: Why are you stirring up trouble?
Outside, the angry mob continued to chant “Cease the peace ... Cease the peace.”
“I have in my possession certain sensitive information,” Larry began, trying as best he could to choose his words carefully. “Information that has led me to believe that you are no longer fit to lead Rainbowland.”
All Father drew in a de
ep, quivering breath. The old bastard was pissed. Larry could see it in the way his eyes were practically glowing with rage. He was getting under All Father’s skin.
“Let me remind Brother Larry that in spite of being our newest disciple, he is also our guest here. That being said, I cannot speak for what information you think you have ... ”
It might have been the perfect time to pull Abigail’s notebook out from under his shirt and slam it on All Father’s desk; or if not slam then at the very least to read one of the more savory passages, but the poker player in Larry had decided to leave the book out of reach, where it couldn’t be confiscated. Hell, who needed a book up his shirt when he had an ace up his sleeve?
“Look, All Father, I don’t mince words. I’m sure you know that much about me by now, so let me come right out with it. I have information about your daughter’s death. Or should I say murder?”
Even though Timothy knew beforehand what Larry was planning to spring on All Father, sweat was still pouring down the man’s face in sheets.
But All Father wasn’t having any of it. “Who are you to question me, like some inner-city detective?” He stood and waved his hand. “Out, all of you!” The awe-struck entourage shuffled from his office without saying a word. Timothy was the last to leave and gave Larry a final glance as he closed the door.
“We’ve accepted you with open arms since you arrived here, Brother Larry, and you’ve done nothing but question our ways from day one. If it wasn’t for Brother Timothy advocating on your behalf ... ”
“Look, Peter – may I call you Peter? Look, Peter, you and I are poles apart, and there isn’t a hope in fiery hell we’ll ever see things eye to eye, you know what I mean? You wanna run this place like some cross between Jesus Camp and Disneyland. I get that. Under different circumstances, I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass, but there’s an entire world out there just waiting to skull fuck Rainbowland to death. You catch my drift?”
All Father’s jaw came unhinged, and Larry could see right into the old bastard’s mouth where his spotted tongue was twitching around like a wounded python.
Primal Shift: Volume 1 (A Post Apocalyptic Thriller) Page 33