The Uncivil War Series Box Set

by B. T. Wright

  Cassandra Hunt was a fourth-class cadet at the Air Force Academy. She was fresh-faced and wide-eyed, as her first week of school was ending. On that day—that very specific day—she was in a hurry, inside a building she hadn’t visited often, and lost. Her next class was starting soon, and just as she turned the corner, she bulldozed an officer carrying a stack of folders. Papers. No—orders—twirled through the air, and Cassandra fell to her butt.

  “Damnit, cadet.” The officer hovered above her and scowled. “Watch where you’re going.”

  “Sorry, sir,” she said from the floor.

  When the papers came to a sliding rest, she quickly moved her hand along the floor to gather as many pieces as she could. The officer bent down too, scooping them up into a disheveled pile. She did her best to refile them in their original order.

  While shuffling the papers together, she noticed a marking across the center—a ‘Classified’ watermark. She looked away at first, but curiosity got the better of her. Especially when the officer who dumped the papers was preoccupied with the call he received on his cell phone.

  Peering more closely at the note, she saw it was an executive order from the president himself. She glanced at the officer again, but only briefly. He continued his conversation and wasn’t aware she’d seen anything. The president? she thought. It wasn’t everyday she’d see an executive order—not ever in her case. What could it hurt? she wondered. She read furiously but stopped only after the first line as one word stuck out in bold.

  Beritrix.

  Most would’ve glazed over this word without a second thought, maybe assumed it was code for something or had another meaning. But she in fact knew precisely what it meant. And as she continued to read, the words hit her like a punch to the gut. The President of the United States’ official order was to find Cassandra Hunt and her supply of Beritrix.

  She fell hard against the ground, holding the order, and once she made contact, the wind escaped her lungs.

  “Give me that.” It appeared the officer had finished with his phone call and swiped the paper from her grasp. “Pick yourself up off the ground and get to class.”

  But she didn’t move, not then. She was frozen in place. Her eyes blinked but felt out of place and time. When she let go of that breath, she had a sinking feeling, deep in her gut.

  Her life was in danger.

  Her thought might have been impetuous, but her father was to blame. A prepper, and a man who hated the government. When she’d decided to join the academy, it nearly killed him. But then, now that she sat, she remembered exactly what he said the day she left for school. Don’t let yourself be fooled. They will use you in the worst way possible, and don’t come crying back to me when you finally realize that for yourself.

  Once she found her footing, Hunt didn’t proceed to class. Instead, she ran back to her dorm. When she arrived, she threw open the door and burst inside without a greeting to her roommate. She beelined for her dresser in the corner of the room and began to pack her belongings into her bag. After stuffing her clothes inside, she reached for the mini fridge and ripped out every vial of Beritrix.

  “Uh, what the hell are you doing, Hunt?” Barbara Keith, her bunk mate, asked.

  But she didn’t answer. She was too busy scanning the room for the next thing to load into her bag. There had to be more—she couldn’t forget anything.

  “Was it Jackson? I knew that bastard was going to try something on you. He’s a perv.”

  “No. Nothing like that,” Hunt said.

  “Then what?” Barbara reached for arm to spin her around.

  “I don’t know. I can’t explain it, alright?”

  “What do you mean you don’t know? You’re going crazy. Stuffing all your clothes in a bag. Like you’re quitting the academy. Walking out on me after a week.”

  She dropped her head. Then said, “The president. He . . .”

  “The president what?”

  “I saw some papers I wasn’t supposed to. I literally ran into this officer, and the files he was holding went flying.” She waved her arms through the air to demonstrate. “My name was on an order. A classified order.”

  “What did it say?”

  “Get Cassandra Hunt and her Beritrix.”

  “Beritrix? You mean that stuff you have to take?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why would the president of the united states want the Air Force to ‘get’ you?” she used finger quotes. “And your medicine?”

  “I don’t know, Barbara, but I’m not sticking around to find out.”

  “Whoa, whoa, what a minute. Calm down and take a breath. I think you’re overreacting a bit, don’t you?” Barbara rested her hands on her shoulders and tried to calm her down.

  Before Hunt could answer, there was a knock on the door. “Cadet Hunt. The colonel needs to speak with you. Could you come out and follow us please?”

  I’m not here, she mouthed to Barbara. Then Hunt spun and stared to the window. She walked over to it, twisted the latch, and lifted. She looked down from the second story. This is gonna hurt. She talked herself up before popping out the screen. The men at the door knocked again.

  “Hunt. Don’t make the Colonel wait. He said your presence was urgently required.”

  “I’m sorry,” Hunt whispered. “I can’t let them take me.”

  She walked to the window and chucked her bag to the ground below. Then she pushed her torso through the opening, held on as she twirled around so her legs dangled below, and stared back into the room.

  Barbara walked over to the door and opened it slightly. “She’s not in here. I’m trying to do my—” But the men wouldn’t allow her to finish her sentence. Instead they burst inside just as Hunt let go and fell to the sidewalk.

  She landed hard, but nothing her fit eighteen-year-old body couldn’t recover from. Instantly, she jumped from the hard concrete and scooped up her bag as she ran away from the dorms.

  Every single cadet who was strolling on the sidewalk at that hour stared at her as she sprinted. Her lungs burned and legs ached as she ran, holding onto her pack that was slung around her shoulder. She didn’t see the men giving chase behind her, and there was nothing in the way of cover—not where she was running—not until she’d made it into the thick tree line of the Rocky Mountains. But they were far in the distance, and that was wishful thinking anyhow.

  The men were barreling down on her position. When they caught up to her, they wrapped her into a tackle. Sitting atop her back, one of the men pushed her face into the grass and threw his knee into her spine as the other locked her wrists into handcuffs.

  “Why’d you run, Hunt? You could be court martialed for this.” One of the men stood, ripping her from the ground with her arms behind her.

  She faced the two men as they stood. Both of their jaws were clenched, but she offered no quarter.

  The airmen led her away, everyone who’d seen her attempt an escape looked on with a concerned eye.

  The men led her through a building—in fact, the very same one where she’d run into the officer. An office awaited her at the end of the hall. The door was open, and a colonel was sitting behind his desk, refusing to look up, even though he had to hear the commotion as they led her down the hall.

  Both men gripped her arms tight, one on each side. It’s not like she could rip free and make another run for it, but at that point, deep down, she couldn’t help but wonder what the president wanted with her and her medicine.

  The airmen led her inside, dropped her bag onto the office floor, then took a step back and waited for dismissal.

  “Thank you, Johns, Matson.” Colonel Patterson nodded. “You’re dismissed.”

  Colonel Patterson peered up from his desk and removed his reading glasses and stared at Hunt from behind his desk. She stood with her chin high but was reluctant to look him in the eye.

  “Why did you run?” he said.

  She didn’t answer, not at first.

  He rose from his desk, w
alked around the side, then sat on the edge only a foot from where she stood. “I’ll ask again: why did you run?”

  But she remained silent.

  “You know: I can court martial for this?”

  Go ahead, she thought, but then figured it’d be best to ask a question of her own. “What does the president want with me? With my Beritrix?”

  “Ah. So, you did read it?” Colonel Patterson lifted from the edge, then grabbed a folder. He opened the flap and returned to his position in front of her. “I figured as much. When I finally received this from Petty Officer Warren, the stack of papers was out of order. Warren was disheveled and loaded me up with some nonsense about running into a cadet. I assume you were that cadet?” He nodded to her. Finally, she answered with a nod of her own. “He told me you read through some of the orders. Ha.” He chuckled to himself. “Imagine that. You, of all people, read this executive order that clearly commands me to come and find you personally. I can’t imagine that cruel irony. Especially when that order came directly from POTUS.”

  Colonel Patterson held the paper in front of her, almost taunting her to look. Against her better judgment, she did.

  “Read it.” Colonel Patterson nodded to the paper.

  Shocked, she reached for the paper and read, slowly this time.

  Eyes Only: Colonel Kirk Patterson United States Air Force

  An executive order has been brought down by the President of the United States. Find Cassandra Hunt and her supply of Beritrix.

  “Yeah, I read that already. That’s why I ran.”

  “You ran because you were scared,” Colonel Patterson said.

  Hunt wished to speak. But he was right—that was exactly why she’d run.

  “What you didn’t read, was this.” He lifted another piece of paper, resting it on top of the other. “The second part of the order.”

  Scientist believed to have discovered Beritrix is what will stop this apocalypse from taking over the entire human race.

  Her face went white at one word. “Apocalypse, sir?” she asked.

  “Now you want answers.” Colonel Patterson laughed. “I’m afraid that’s above your clearance level, cadet. Tell me, where’s your supply of Beritrix?”

  Instinctively, Hunt looked down. “Back in my dorm.”

  “Liar. You wouldn’t have left it there, not if you knew the president was looking for you and the medicine.”

  Quick. Think of something. But before she could speak, he walked around the desk again and stepped toward her bag.

  No, she wished to say, but she couldn’t. He wouldn’t believe any lie she’d spout at that point, not until he looked for himself.

  He had two steps remaining, but just as he bent over to reach for it, an alarm rang out from overhead. A loud reverberating alarm. A tone Hunt had never heard before. Colonel Patterson stopped in his tracks and stared toward the door, as if he knew someone would be entering at any moment.

  Then someone did. “Sir, it’s unit 26, sir. I’ve just received word, they’ve gone . . . they’ve started attacking other airman, sir,” Cadet Duncan said.

  “Where?” Colonel Patterson said.

  “The airfield, sir. Men, sir. They’re . . . they’re—”

  “Spit it out, man!”

  “They’re killing one another.”

  That was the distraction Hunt needed. “Stay with her.” Patterson nodded to the scrawny cadet.

  Duncan entered the room and stood by the door. Hunt stared at him and wouldn’t drop her gaze. It didn’t take but a moment for him to become uncomfortable. “What? Why are you staring at me?” he had to yell.

  Hunt didn’t make a sound. Even if she did, it wouldn’t likely be heard over the piercing scream of the alarm. Duncan avoided eye contact with her, which was precisely what she wanted. She knew as soon as he turned around, maybe felt too uncomfortable, she could make her move. He did. He reached for the door and closed it. In that moment, she rushed him. He didn’t even see her coming. She dipped her shoulder and sent him flying face first into the thick oak door. His head smacked the wood, and he crumpled like an accordion.

  Feverishly, Hunt searched the room for any sign of a key ring. Her head went up, down, all around. There was nothing, not until she stepped behind the colonel’s desk and pulled open his top desk drawer.

  Jackpot, she thought, eyeing the ring of keys. She lifted them and immediately began to feel for the opening of the handcuffs. Finding the hole was much harder than she thought it would be. It took her over a minute, but after she freed herself, she ran to lift her bag.

  Once in the hall, she saw a multitude of men and women scattering like ants. Inside the panicked dispersion, there were pained screams that echoed over the ringing alarm.

  She gulped, knowing the one word that stuck out on the page aside from her name and Beritrix: apocalypse. Could Armageddon be on the doorstep of the Air Force academy? She didn’t want to believe it. But then she thought about Duncan’s first words to the colonel after the alarm. What did Duncan mean, men attacking men? Like a fight?

  She had no idea, but she was about to find out.

  2

  Colorado Springs, Colorado

  Present Day

  Colt Maddox peered over at the vice president, who sat against the seatback of the helicopter. A smile remained fresh on his face and hadn’t disappeared since takeoff. Colt returned the gesture, but then lowered his head and held his two sons, Dylan and Wesley, tight to his chest. Both shook. What they’d just witnessed outside the Cheyenne Mountain Complex was still fresh in their minds.

  When Colt raised his head, he leaned back and closed his eyes. The vision of the last remaining infected who’d fallen just feet from the end of Colt’s smoking rifle—that now sat in his lap—played on repeat in his mind. The swarm of infected were so close to a hostile take-over. Even then, after the helicopter lifted from the ground, he couldn’t find his breath—he couldn’t calm his rapid breathing. With his heartrate elevated, he turned his head and looked out the opening of the chopper doors, seeking solace in the familiar of the mountainous countryside. He watched the beautiful rocky region below, but soon his thoughts shifted from the aspens and pines, to his wife Anna, whom he’d just left behind, again.

  His decision to leave had been a calculated one, but regret consumed him. He kept telling himself he was no good to her in the lab at Cheyenne Mountain. No way he was going to find the cure there. And his focus had to remain on the cure, and on his brother, Jake. Jake promised they’d find that cure together. Deep down, Colt knew he would see Anna again. Perhaps that was the only way he could find happiness that morning, or at the very least, calm his anxiety.

  But his smile soon faded as the chopper’s rotors shuddered. Colt felt his insides turn at the sudden drop in altitude. Automatically, he reached overhead for something to grab, but there was nothing there. His body rocked forward as the chopper dropped again. Colt pushed the fear aside and chalked it up to rough air, unwilling to get concerned.

  It wasn’t until Colonel Jenkins made the panic very clear over the headsets. “Gentleman, I . . . I don’t know how to tell you this but . . . the engines . . . they’re failing.”

  Failing? Colt thought. No way. How could they fail? We just flew in from Woodland Park. No. This can’t be right. This can’t be happening. But this was reality. A very real reality that would send them crash landing in the middle of Colorado Springs. And with the threat of infected lurking, they’d be attacked the instant the landed. If they survived the crash at all.

  With every rise and fall of the undulating aircraft, Colt could feel his two sons shake beneath his arms. And both Wesley and Dylan let out at least a scream on more than one occasion. Colt locked eyes with the vice president. Fear was trapped in his eyes. A fear Colt felt too. Colt shifted his attention to Mark Joyner—the president’s chief of staff. No fear remained—only dread. The only other man, Brian Bald, was unfazed, keeping his eye fixed on the ground below. Bald was Air Force Special Forces.
He was intentional and possibly formulating a plan in his mind while the rest tried to gather their wits. Colt opened his mouth to speak, but swallowed his words instead, unwilling to distract from Bald’s plans.

  Then again, he wished he had. Because at that moment, the helicopter was sent into a spin and the force of the spin drove Colt back against the seatback. Everything in the helicopter—including Colt’s backpack—was thrown out the opening. Though Colt didn’t know his backpack was missing, perhaps he would’ve fallen into a deeper panic, knowing their entire stash of Beritrix had just been launched into the thick trees below. Instead, he tried to keep his eye on one spot to combat the motion sickness. But there was no way to keep his head still as he fought the momentum. Colt closed his eyes, wrapped both boys into a hug, and braced for the sudden impact that was sure to come.

  “Mayday. Mayday. Mayday. This is Falcon,” Colonel Jenkins spoke, and they could all hear through the headphones. “We’re going down. I repeat. We’re going down. North of Cheyenne Mountain. Somewhere south of the Air Force Academy. I cannot be sure of our exact location because we’re in a flat spin. I repeat, we’re going down. If possible, send reinforcements.”

  Air Force Academy? Colt thought. That’ll be teeming with infected. But he didn’t know why those thoughts ran through his mind. They most likely wouldn’t survive the crash anyway. He found his mind wandering. How fickle life was. Unfair even.

  “Brace for impact!” Colonel Jenkins said.

  Colt closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and flexed his forearms around both sons as they awaited their fate. He expected a flash of orange to light up his closed eyelids and to feel a warmth so intense on his face that he’d be forced to scream in agony, but that wasn’t the case. There was only a hard jolt, a clunk, then a skid to an abrupt halt as the chopper slid through a copse of trees.

  “We’re alive!” Colonel Jenkins said into his headset. “Unstrap and get out, or we won’t be for long.”

  Colt glanced at his sons. Both were unbuckling themselves. It was Colt who loitered. “Dad!” Dylan swam into his father’s view. Colt was shaken, and his eyes couldn’t focus. Not until Dylan yelled again. “Dad!”