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ED3N- on the Brink of Extinction

Page 14

by J P Whitney


  Which letters and words?

  E – D – N – 3. Ark. Eden.

  That can’t be … possible.

  And there was another word. A name actually. Your name. Ruth.

  Do you mind telling me what the hell is going on?

  I don’t understand how it’s all connected to your family or Eli. The codename for this facility was ‘The Ark’. The letters you mentioned are the name of the network that runs this entire place. EDN3 or ED3N … pronounced Eden.

  We need to talk about this in more detail. In person. I’d like all of you to come to the facility, but first I need confirmation vaccine-B really exists.

  I’ll go. But my wife is going to kill me.

  Chapter 19

  Scouts

  8/11/21 Olsen property, Tabor Mountain, Oregon.

  Tommy knew this topic would go over like the proverbial lead balloon, so he decided the direct approach would be best. No beating around the bush.

  “Well that was interesting,” he said to Sara to kick things off.

  “What was?” she replied.

  “I had just finished updating the blog when someone messaged me. The chat window automatically popped up. And, um, well … Sara, I need to go to the coast.”

  Her reply was terse and equally to the point. “Are you nuts? Absolutely not. Out of the question.” She definitely wasn’t going to make this easy.

  “But you haven't heard why yet,” he argued weakly.

  “Look, Tommy, people are dropping like flies, including our own families. I'm not going to risk you too. Whatever the reason, it’s not worth it,” she declared.

  So the only hope of gaining Sara’s approval rested with an altruistic plea, “I know leaving the property right now sounds beyond risky but the reason is larger than any of us. Hell, it might be the only reason that would make any sense. And it just might save what’s left of us.”

  Sara paused for a very long time before responding next. “What do you mean ‘what’s left of us’? You, me and the boys?”

  “I mean the rest of the survivors. Those of us in the US at least,” Tommy said.

  “And you’d be willing to risk your own life for this higher purpose, whatever it is?”

  “I don’t actually think it will be that risky but yes. I think it’s that important,” he stated with more confidence than he actually felt.

  Tommy could tell Sara was displeased they were having this conversation, but she would hear him out. “I’m not saying yes, but why don’t you tell me what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “A government agency has been monitoring the blog site. They set up some kind of facility or complex as a contingency plan in case the virus couldn’t be contained. Interestingly, they agree with your position on the vaccines possibly being the cause of the outbreak. No one in the complex has taken the shots. They claim there is a new vaccine specifically designed to combat the H1N1-B virus. If they can reach it, the new vaccine will be replicated and used to cure the infected and protect those that have been quarantined for so long. They want to enable survivors to come back together. Allow society to form again.”

  “Fine. They agree with your blog site. What does this new vaccine have to do with you going to the coast?” Sara asked unable to conceal the worried tone in her voice.

  “The new B strain vaccine was delivered to the Coast Guard base in Tillamook. But the blackouts have made contact impossible. They fear all Portland-area law enforcement and military personnel are dead as they would have been the first to receive the 150 million tainted vaccines. They also think the second wave of vaccines contains an active component that made people contagious. If this is true, virtually everyone in America is dead, dying, or at risk of being infected. The new vaccine-B could be the only way to stop it. I’m the only one they’ve been able to reach, so, they are asking me to scout the base in Tillamook and deliver new orders for the B vaccine. That is if anyone is left to give the orders to.”

  “So, they are admitting the government may have infected all of the US? The entire world! And now they are asking you to help clean up the mess?” Sara could not believe what she was hearing. Actually, the sad truth of the matter was she could believe it. This confirmed all of her suspicions. But what was the safest course of action at this point? Trust some mysterious agency that might have been responsible for the death of millions or hunker down and wait it out? Sara was incredulous and furious at being put in this situation but could also see the sense of urgency.

  Tommy thought he might as well bring in the mystical element now too. Nothing to lose at this point. “And there’s something else. I think we're all connected in some strange way.”

  “What in the hell are you talking about Tommy?” Sara was getting exasperated now.

  “Well, you know the strange dreams the boys have been having? The ones that match Eli’s journal entries identically.”

  “Yes, what about them?” Sara asked.

  “They dreamed about something called the Ark? And someone named Ruth. And what appeared to be random letters and numbers.” Sara just stared at Tommy, saying nothing out of fear he’d continue with the madness if she encouraged him by acknowledging the words coming out of his mouth.

  Tommy mistakenly interpreted her silence as an OK to continue, “Well, here’s where it gets really strange. The person that contacted me today is named Ruth. The facility she’s at is called the ‘Ark’ and it is fueled by some high powered network she referred to as ‘E-D-3-N’. The letters and numbers weren’t random at all. They are actually related to this government contingency plan. None of these things were public knowledge. The dreams. Eli’s journal. This isn’t a coincidence. We’re all connected somehow.”

  Sara closed her eyes and exhaled slowly through her nose. After several long moments, she looked at her husband again, resigned, and said, “I want to go on record as not being a fan of citizens doing the government’s dirty work. But if this could keep us safe, and help people that are already infected, then we should do it. Notice I said ‘we’. You are not going alone.”

  “Hold on a second, I don’t like putting you at risk too. And I think I can move quicker and draw less attention by myself,” Tommy argued.

  “Listen. This is non-negotiable. We’re all going or no one is going. Strength in numbers. And we’re not going to be guinea pigs for this new vaccine. Do you agree?” Sara said sternly.

  Tommy was conflicted. He really didn’t like the idea of Tucker and Bryce being involved but didn’t want to leave them alone either. Even for just a few hours. What if another group of looters came to their property? And Sara was right about strength in numbers. Five of them traveling with weapons would look imposing if nothing else.

  “I agree,” Tommy said reluctantly.

  Tommy showed Sara the chat session he had with Ruth and recounted how so much of it seemed to tie into the boys’ dreams and the journal writings. Apparently, Eli wasn’t joking or crazy when he mentioned it was some sort of mission from a higher power that had brought all of them together. Like they were predestined to help save the world. Tommy didn’t know if he’d go so far to say this was destiny, but this was the third sign that pointed toward this Ruth person so they might as well stop resisting.

  Their mission, get to the Coast Guard base quickly and find the new vaccine. Hopefully, they would find someone they could relay Ruth’s orders to. Someone who could take responsibility for getting vaccine-B doses transferred to the Ark facility in California. And if the base had been overrun by Blue, they would keep away from the bodies and search for the hard-sided containers the vaccines had been shipped in. Grab as many doses as they could carry and hightail it home to update Ruth.

  After Eli heard the news, he said something about ‘divine providence’ and hurriedly agreed to help with the mission. The five of them prepped quickly cramming a day’s worth of food, water, a first aid kit and a pair of two-way radios into their day packs
. The only other items they took were weapons, surgical masks, and gloves. The dogs were to be left behind to guard the property.

  They decided to take the most direct route on Highway 6 which weaved through the mountains of the Cascade Range in Tillamook State Forest. They wouldn’t stop for anyone unless it was a military outfit. In which case they’d simply tell them about the mission and turn right back around. If all went well they’d reach the coast within two hours.

  The gear was dragged to the next neighborhood where Tommy had stashed the family sport-utility wagon. The boys stored the gear in the rear cargo area while Tommy reinstalled the starter relay. No one had tampered with the vehicle over the last month and as the engine turned over, sputtered, then came to life, Tommy had a strange feeling they might not be making it back home anytime soon and wondered if they should have brought more supplies. But time was of the essence so the less gear, the better.

  Getting out of town took a little longer than anticipated but not because of traffic. In fact, there wasn’t any. Anywhere. There were a few stalled cars on the sides of roads, but they didn’t see a single moving vehicle. What slowed them down was checkpoint roadblocks at major intersections and interstate on-ramps. Concrete barricades blocked the way.

  “We can’t go through them and no space to go around. Guess we’ll have to go home,” Sara stated relieved they wouldn’t have to follow through with the plan after all.

  “Don’t give up so easily. We can engineer our way around, or rather through, this mere obstacle,” Tommy said with a bit of cheer. He loved puzzles.

  “Boys, pull the gear from the back and get out the jack and lug nut wrench,” he called over his shoulder while kicking around in the weeds and gravel at the side of the road. Eventually, he found what he was looking for and rejoined the rest of the crew that had collected in front of the modular concrete traffic block.

  “The plan is to use this flat rock to turn the tire iron into a lever. If one of us stands on one end and can lift the barrier an inch or so, then the rest of us can pivot it a few inches. Might take us a few attempts but I think we can move it.”

  Tommy jammed the flat end of the L-shaped wrench into the asphalt a few times at one end of the block to find purchase and wedged the rock under the iron. He figured this configuration would give him about a 10 to 1 lifting ratio. When he stood on the bar with his 180 pounds the barrier did rise a bit. The rest of them pushed with all their might and managed to slide the block a few inches before the iron slipped off the rock.

  “This is going to take forever dad,” Tucker said.

  Bryce had a better idea and ran back to the car without saying a word and returned seconds later with a smooth, chrome extension from the socket wrench set.

  Tommy understood immediately and repositioned the lever toward the middle of the barrier. This time when he lifted, Bryce slid the extension underneath. Tommy stepped off the lever and the block thunked down onto the steel bar. Now the five of them could rock, pivot, and roll the barrier quite easily. They had to reposition the makeshift roller a few times but were able to move the barrier out of the way. The opening wasn’t quite large enough for the car so they used the same technique to attack a second block and within minutes were back on the road and had Highway 217 to themselves.

  Their luck lasted all of three miles before they ran into the next roadblock at the Highway 26 junction. By now they had become quite efficient at barrier relocation and within five minutes they were heading west on an equally deserted stretch of blacktop that normally accommodated six lanes of traffic into and out of Portland.

  They drove in silence, first through flat farmlands, and then climbed into the higher elevations of the Tillamook State Forest. Tommy’s mind began to wander. This was the first they’d ventured outside of home quarantine in what seemed like years, and seeing everything firsthand made it horribly real. He was struck by how quickly an entire city had become a desolate graveyard. And people’s homes became their tombs. Life would never be the same again, even if they could find the new vaccine and stop the virus.

  Reality began to set in. The fields without their normal mix of migrant workers and tractors. No more school buses. They'd never again drive to the store for what had been the simple task of picking up favorite foods or clothes or electronic gadgets. Nothing was ever going to be manufactured again. What was left on this planet, right now, was it. No more cars or TVs would come off assembly lines in Japan or China and be shipped to the US on huge ocean vessels. Hell, the trash on the side of the road was likely the last bottles, cans, and plastic jugs ever produced. What used to be thrown away as garbage would now be collected and hoarded as prized water collection devices and have to last a lifetime. Several lifetimes actually. If they didn’t remedy this situation quickly, humanity might actually be thrust back into the Stone Age after all. But what made it worse was the knowledge of all they used to have. He knew what society was capable of but could no longer have. It would be torture. The irony of it all. They used to have too much. Now within such a short span of time, everything had been taken from them.

  Despite being absorbed in the mental picture of devastation Tommy painted for himself, they made it to the coast without further incident. But none of them were prepared for what was found at the end of the line. Miles of abandoned cars littered the side of the highway as they neared the Tillamook city limits. The further they drove, the more they were corralled toward the centerline by the growing density of cars and eventually had to park in the middle of the road. They grabbed their gear and had to walk half a mile through the makeshift car lot before reaching another barricade. But this was unlike those encountered before. Not for traffic. This was people control.

  An eight-foot-high chain-link fence encircled as much of the city as could be seen. Inside was basically a refugee camp filled with medical tents the National Guard had set up. Tommy had read about quarantine camps on the stopblue.gov site but this was his first look at one. This camp was completely devoid of activity. The dead were everywhere. On cots, in the entrance to the tents, and piled on each other on the sidewalks. It looked as though many had been in the midst of walking when the internal bleeding left them a dusky shade of blue and dropped them in their tracks. The smell of decay was so overpowering all of them reflexively reached for the surgical masks as if a primitive part of the brain demanded some form of barrier be placed between their faces and the threat of death that lay before them.

  With all the carnage at the entrance, there was no way to drive into the camp even if they could find a way through all the parked cars and break through the barricade. It was going to be an approximately two-mile walk to the Coast Guard base. Definitely not ideal for a quick operation.

  The streets and sidewalks teemed with dead bodies and pools of coagulated blood slowing their progress further. Eventually, the biohazards they were careful to avoid began to thin out, making the trek much easier.

  Tommy couldn’t believe it. They hadn’t run into another living soul and it appeared as though they were utterly alone. They had traveled about a mile when they cleared the quarantine camp area and encountered a sharp curve in the highway where the steep hillside pushed the road closer to the coastline. Waves crashed on rocks below them, and though the air smelled slightly fishy, it was a welcome reprieve from the stench of decay they had been enduring.

  Bryce stopped abruptly. After all the blood and discolored corpses, Tommy was concerned about Bryce’s PTSD and gently touched his youngest son’s arm and asked, “Are you OK? Are you thinking about Jonathan?”

  Bryce shook his head no and pointed to where a trail headed up the side of the hill.

  “What is it? Did you see something?”

  He shook his head no again and then added, “I have to go to the bathroom.” These were the first words Bryce had spoken in weeks and, though they were about bodily functions, welcome music to Tommy’s ears.

  “Number one or number two,” he asked, trying to play it cool, and hope
d Bryce wouldn’t clam up again.

  “Number two,” he said sheepishly feeling bad about halting the progress that had finally started to improve. Bryce shrugged off his pack, handed his shotgun to Eli and took the packet of tissues Sara had fished out of her small travel pack.

  “Here,” Tommy said, “take one of the radios too,” thinking it might help keep him talking. “And your slingshot, just in case you come across a rabbit or squirrel. We could use the meat. But no wandering off. We'll take a water break and wait for you here.”

 

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