by Lee Bradford
“Susan, you in there?”
It was the nurse from before. Beverly was her name. Or was it Brittany?
“Just a minute,” Susan called out. In two strides she was at the door, opening it a crack, ready to fend off the nosy nurse with assurances that everything was all right. So long, that was, as the nurse didn’t spot the trash can behind her or the overpowering odor of rubbing alcohol.
But Beverly or Brittany wasn’t alone. There were two Ark security personnel only steps behind her. The nurse’s eyes narrowed. With a quick slide of her foot, the nurse stuck her leg out to keep the door from closing.
Susan responded by slamming her open palm square in the middle of her chest. The nurse went reeling backwards, falling into a tray of medical instruments. Metal clattered to the floor as Susan slammed the door and fumbled for the lock. But to her horror she realized there wasn’t any lock. In another three seconds the guards would be inside and on top of her.
The matches were on the counter behind her and Susan lunged for them, her fingers shaking as she peeled back the cover and peeled off one of the paper sticks. That was when the door swung open and the guards froze for a moment, their eyes moving between the trash can and the matches in her hand. Terror bubbling inside of her, Susan struggled to swipe the matchstick against the strike strip. A single flame was all she needed to destroy this batch of the virus.
And in that instant, fate displayed her temperamental nature once again as the match failed to light and the guards tackled Susan to the ground.
Chapter 39
Van Buren was walking through the atrium of Ark Three on his way to the tram when a Secret Service agent stopped him.
“What is it?” the director barked impatiently. “The celebration’s already begun in the mess hall of Ark One and I’m late. This better be important.”
“One of the civilians was caught trying to destroy the vaccines we’re issuing tomorrow.”
Van Buren bit his bottom lip. “How far did they get?”
“It was a woman and we caught her in time, sir,” the agent told him.
“Where’s she being held?”
“Interrogation room, security headquarters.”
“I trust you’ve notified Ms. Monroe and removed the vials to a safe location.”
“The vials are safe, but we can’t get a hold of Ms. Monroe.”
The last time Van Buren had spoken to her she’d been heading over to arrest a civilian troublemaker. He wondered if something terrible had befallen her.
“Where’s the individual she took into custody?”
The agent shook his head. “We don’t know that either.”
“Use his biochip to track him and find out. When I’m back, I’ll have a word with our little saboteur.” Van Buren went to walk away.
“Sir, there’s one more thing.”
The director sighed and skidded to a stop.
“Someone’s opened the airlock in Ark Two.” The agent held up a tablet which showed a three-dimensional schematic of the facility. A growing swarm of tiny dots were moving over the main floor.
“What is this?” Van Buren asked.
“The animals, sir. Someone let them out.”
The elevator doors opened onto biohazard level four and Ava caught sight of the guard seated at the end of the corridor. Past that door was a changing room where scientists donned the suits they needed to work in such a hazardous environment. With most, if not all, of the Ark personnel at the concert, Ava hoped no one would need to get hurt. No one except for this guard.
As he stood to greet her, Ava pulled a pistol from behind her back and double-tapped two rounds into the guard’s forehead. His body slumped back into the chair, his eyes open and staring at the ceiling. She felt for a pulse and then closed his eyes.
The sound of the elevator doors opening behind her made her spin. Over the barrel of her pistol, a man emerged from the shadow. He was carrying something heavy.
“Whoa,” he said, raising his free hand. “Don’t shoot.”
“The heck are you doing here?” she asked, more annoyed than anything.
A slow grin formed on Buck’s face. “And miss out on all the fun?” He lifted the large canister a few inches. “I brought drinks.”
The two of them entered the change room and suited up. Destroying the lab would also mean entering the lair of some of the deadliest viruses and bacteria on the planet.
“You know that diesel you brought won’t explode like gasoline.”
Buck smiled. “Not like gas, but it’ll burn and it’s oily, which will make it next to impossible for the sprinkler system to put it out.”
Ava entered a code in the keypad and they entered the hot zone.
“Looks like everyone’s on vacation,” Buck said. The heavy suit made it difficult to talk.
Along the walls were glass enclosures where scientists could observe and manipulate the genetic structure of the various pathogens.
Nearby were a number of walk-in fridges and freezers where specimens were kept in cold storage. A row of animal cages stood empty.
Buck tapped her on the shoulder. “What would you have done if I hadn’t showed up?”
“This,” she said, turning on the gas to a Bunsen burner. “Start spreading that diesel around nice and even.”
Buck opened the fridges and freezers, pouring the fuel liberally inside. Before long the entire room was coated. At the other end, Ava opened a burner and lit the flame, turning it on high. It wouldn’t be long before the natural gas from one end of the room migrated to the other and when it did, she wanted to make sure they had both reached a safe distance.
Hurrying to the change room, they helped each other out of their suits and fled down the corridor to the elevator.
If Susan was also successful in her mission, then in a matter of minutes, the virus would be no more. The final surprise Ava had left in Craig’s hands. It should be going off any minute.
Chapter 40
Over in the mess hall, Paul was struggling to catch his groove. It hadn’t taken long for the audience to fill every conceivable space. That he’d never played a single lick with his bandmates before this evening wasn’t the worst of it. Nor was it the Beretta he’d secretly taped to the back of his guitar, the same pistol that was currently digging into his ribs. What was throwing him off was the lyrics to his own songs. They were coming to him barely a split second before he was supposed to be belting them out and on more than one occasion he’d forgotten an entire section, improvising with anything he could, sometimes even gibberish. His former agent Larry Sanders, a fat and balding workaholic and perfectionist, would have been appalled.
The only thing helping Paul was the projection screen they’d mounted behind him, flashing images of women showing off oversized shoulder pads and bad eighties hair. The good news was the band was at least vaguely familiar with each of his songs and with every one they played, they got a little bit better.
Slowly, Paul started to settle down and as he did, a strange thing began to happen. He found himself having fun. At one point during the chorus of Take Me All the Way, the audience swaying back and forth, some even reciting the lyrics, he hopped up and down, swinging his arm like a windmill. The crowd went wild and so too did Paul when he felt the pistol starting to come loose. The jumping and chafing against his belly must have peeled the tape back and now he was forced to keep his guitar pulled tight against his torso or risk the gun falling and skittering across the stage.
The crowd quieted down. Paul continued to hit the notes hard, but people weren’t even looking at him anymore. They were staring behind him and many of their mouths were moving, but not like they were singing along—they were reading something.
He peered over his shoulder as the other band members did the same. The ladies in horrible clothes were gone. Scrolling across the canvas projector screen in their place was a series of words. Even the music had died down as all of them read along.
The director has lied to you
. There is no radiation. There is no sanctuary. Your lives are in danger. Tomorrow morning all civilians will be infected with a lethal virus and sent out to spread death throughout what’s left of the country.
Even the radiation readouts on the walls were displaying the same message.
Then came a distant explosion and all hell broke loose.
Chapter 41
Ava had just destroyed the lab. That was Paul’s first thought as the mess hall shook and the lights dimmed and then came back on.
Shouts of fear emanated from the crowd as civilians and Ark personnel alike began to panic. Guards and soldiers positioned near each of the three major exits attempted to prevent the audience from panicking. A military officer stationed behind the front lines fired his pistol into the air to regain control, which only made things worse, transforming a panic into a stampede. Perhaps thinking they’d been fired on, guards and soldiers at each exit began firing indiscriminately. Civilians and Ark personnel were cut down right where they stood. Others dove for cover. Seeing the carnage, Paul grabbed his pistol and extra magazines and dropped his guitar onto the stage. Nearby, his other bandmates ducked behind speakers and amplifiers.
Innocent people were getting slaughtered and Paul had to do something to help them. A guard less than ten yards away dropped to one knee as he frantically tried to reload his MP7A1 submachine gun. Paul leveled his pistol and fired off three rounds in quick succession. All three missed the guard, punching holes in the floor and wall around his target. Paul had just lost the element of surprise and given away his position. Not a great start.
The guard punched his magazine in and raised his weapon. Without taking care to aim, Paul emptied the remaining rounds from his Beretta. Two struck home, one hitting the guard in the abdomen, the other in the neck. He dropped his weapon at once, clutching the wound at his throat as blood ran between his fingers. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Paul couldn’t yet feel the full implication of what he’d just done.
A soldier nearby made a rapid analysis of the situation and spotted Paul. The second magazine was in Paul’s waistband and he reached for it, knowing he wouldn’t have enough time before he was shot dead.
The muzzle of the soldier’s gun rose and was nearly even with Paul when a loud boom threw the soldier forward. He fell to the ground without moving. More violent gunfire came from that same direction. The people around them screamed and in some cases fell from bullet wounds. A battle was raging around the corner, but Paul couldn’t see what was happening.
He reloaded his pistol and moved to reposition himself. Before he had a chance, the gunfire stopped and men wearing dirty civilian clothing and wielding an assortment of firearms appeared. At the helm was Jeb, then Allan and a host of other men with grease-stained faces. Bringing up the rear were Craig, Ava and a face Paul had thought he might never see again. Buck. They were waving groups of civilians over, ushering them out of the way and to safety.
But that wasn’t entirely right, was it? They weren’t just moving them to the rear. Other resistance members in the rear armed as many people in beige clothing as they could.
This was no longer a sophisticated jailbreak, it was a full-scale revolution.
Chapter 42
“What’s happening?” Autumn asked, fearful.
“I’m not sure,” Brett replied honestly.
The two of them were in the soldiers’ barracks on the third floor of Ark Three. Only seconds before they’d heard an explosion and felt the ground at their feet tremble. Two floors up was the command center for the entire Ark. From there they might figure out what was happening. Reaching out, Brett took Autumn’s hand and led her away.
When she’d come the day before, telling him her parents were trying to leave and wanted to take her with them, Brett had felt this was the safest place for her to be. To access this floor, a civilian without clearance would need to get through security in the atrium, an elevator locked with a password-protected keypad and finally a barracks filled with guards at one end and soldiers at the other.
As far as the explosion went, Brett could only hope it was some kind of accident and that it would quickly be under control. Instead of taking the elevator, he led her up via the stairs. No sooner had they opened the push door leading to the emergency exit than government personnel streamed down.
“What’s going on?” he shouted.
“There’s been an explosion,” an older man in a dark blue suit yelled.
Still wondering whether or not the detonation had been an accident, Brett thought of his rifle. It was back in the barracks. The 9mm service pistol on his hip would have to do. Holding Autumn’s hand tightly, Brett pushed through the river of humanity. He knew better than to be like all the other lemmings when the stuff hit the fan. Intel was your friend, and they needed to find out what was going on.
At last they fought their way up the two stories and came out next to the command center. Two soldiers were posted there with M4s. Brett showed his ID and he and Autumn began to head inside. They moved to stop them before Brett said, “She’s with me, it’s okay.”
Reluctantly, they stood down. The situation was obviously more chaotic than he’d previously thought. Inside, a tiny group of commanders and politicians were arguing over what to do while phones at empty desks overlooking the bank of giant screens were ringing off the hook. Normally there were at least thirty people manning the various stations here. Right now there were five.
Eyes wide, Autumn stared up at a bank of screens and pointed.
Brett followed her gaze and saw what had horrified her. In one, flames were shooting up the elevator shaft and into the atrium in Ark Two. The screens showing biohazard levels three and four were black. On two, the fire from the lower floors was starting to break through the floor. If it wasn’t contained, Ark Two would be completely lost.
Another screen showed the atrium downstairs, with people running frantically, dodging cats and dogs and a dizzying array of animals, presumably escapees from the Park.
Then Brett caught the final screen and saw the heated firefight in the mess hall. His fellow brothers in arms were being overrun by a ragtag group of civilians. As each soldier fell, his weapons were snatched by a man or woman in beige. The sight didn’t simply shock him, it ripped his guts out and threw them on the floor. He was torn between protecting Autumn and racing to help his friends and comrades. His indecision couldn’t have lasted for more than a second when a voice shouted from the other end of the command center.
“There you are,” it said. “If you only knew how long we’ve been looking for you.”
“Mom,” Autumn shouted.
Coming toward them were Van Buren, three members of the Secret Service detail that protected him, and Autumn’s mother, Susan.
“These two are both going to be taught a lesson. Now bring the daughter,” Van Buren ordered, waving his hand with all the parental authority of a man calling a child to come in from playing outside.
Brett’s muscles grew tense. Beside him, Autumn’s expression morphed from fear to terror.
Van Buren and his entourage had swung around, but now they stopped.
“Are you hard of hearing, soldier? I gave you an order.”
No one was going to teach Autumn a lesson.
Brett whispered to Autumn, “When I give the word, I want you to run for those doors and not look back no matter what happens.”
“What are you gonna do?”
“Go down there and get her,” Van Buren told his men.
“Ready? Now,” Brett shouted and pulled his pistol, firing off at least five shots, aiming at the Secret Service agents heading his way.
The one closest to him rolled down a set of shallow steps and popped up with his own pistol drawn. Autumn pushed through the door right as Brett was struck by what felt like a sledgehammer in the chest. It knocked the wind out of him and threw him instantly to the floor. The gun hit the floor and skidded away.
The agents arrived and kicked his pist
ol out of reach. But they didn’t run after Autumn. They didn’t need to. One of the guards stationed at the door had her over his shoulder. She kicked and screamed harder when she saw Brett lying there. He had enough time to see her face one last time before the final shot.
Chapter 43
The battle in the mess hall was still in full swing when Paul linked up with Buck and Ava. Civilians armed with pistols, shotguns and rifles surged forward. Soon, facing sheer force of numbers, the soldiers and Ark security teams holding the line broke and ran.
“Has your man found Autumn yet?” Paul asked, searching Ava’s face for good news.
Craig came up beside them, a growing patch of blood on his right leg. “She’s been taken by Van Buren,” he said.
Down the other two corridors, bursts of muffled gunfire could still be heard as they fled.
“And there’s more,” Craig said. “Susan was captured before she could complete her mission.”
Paul felt the world spinning away from him. Buck reached out to hold him in place.
Now Jeb and Allan were heading their way. “We got ’em on the run, boys,” he said and let out something that sounded like a rebel yell.
As Paul glanced around the mess hall at the dead and wounded, it hardly seemed a reason to celebrate. Some of the nurses were already attending to those in need of help. One of them came to Craig and looked at his leg. “I’ll be fine,” he told her. “There are others in far worse shape.”
Addressing Jeb and Allan, Ava said, “I need you and your men from the generator rooms to open the bunker doors and get the women and children out.” She handed him a slip of paper with two codes. “The first should open the steel doors. The second is the emergency code in case they’ve sealed the exits.”