Spore Series | Book 5 | Torch

by Soward, Kenny

  “I... we don’t understand.” Anthony’s voice sounded haughty and even more doubtful. He scoffed. “How could he have caused a worldwide pandemic?”

  Bryant was about to speak, but Jessie waved him down, stepping close to the husband and wife pair and crossing her arms over her chest. “As you’re aware, Burke rolled out his Harvest Guard product for worldwide distribution after a massive marketing campaign. As a result, billions of gallons of the product was sprayed over millions of miles of crops.”

  The scientists nodded.

  “The untested product caused a chain reaction in several strains of fungi,” Jessie continued, “resulting in spore clouds that swept across much of the United States, driven by seasonal winds and encouraged by a particularly wet spring.” She gave them a grim frown. “And if you were following the news, you know the rest.”

  The scientists’ faces had been growing more concerned the more Jessie spoke.

  Bonnie turned to her husband with a genuine expression of fear. “I knew it. We should have never pushed through with that--”

  “Quiet,” Anthony hissed and raised his finger. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  Jessie continued, keeping her clipped, professional tone. “Burke is responsible for the death of millions of people. That’s why he’s bound, and that’s why he’s staying in our apartment wing. Is that clear?”

  The civilians nodded, but Mueller didn’t make a sound. He stood there, appraising the group silently.

  “It’s also my duty to point out that Burke is infected with the spores,” she said. “Once inside, he will be given a serum that will suppress the fungus in his bloodstream.”

  “What about the rest of you?” Bonnie asked, recovering from her surprise. “You’re not wearing masks. Either you’re stupid, or immune.”

  “We’re all infected,” Jessie nodded. “But we’ve had regular serum injections and have built up the required suppressive antibodies. As long as we keep up our treatments, we can’t contaminate you.”

  “Has that theory been extensively tested?” Bonnie asked.

  “Not extensively,” Jessie admitted. Then she looked up and down the row. “It’s hell out there, people, and nothing will be fully tested. We’re flying by the seat of our pants, creating serums and a vaccine which won’t have the luxury of passing FDA approvals. We don’t have a year. Our time was up last month. And it’s in our collective best interests to make this work. Understood?”

  The civilians appeared uncertain.

  Anthony looked over their shoulders at Burke. “Is this true, Mr. Birkenhoff? Are they really here to work on the serum and vaccine?”

  The man nodded slowly, eyes cast at the floor.

  “Okay, then,” the scientist conceded. “Nancy can take you through decontamination and down to your apartments.”

  Mueller stepped back and gestured to his soldiers, and they formed a circle around the group.

  Bryant grabbed for his rifle but stopped short of swinging the barrel up. Mueller froze, eyes on the carbine.

  “Slow and steady, captain,” Bryant said. “You’ll want to back your soldiers off.”

  “No need to be paranoid.” Mueller waved off his troops. “We’re all in this together.”

  “Like Jessie said. It’s rough out there. We’ll err on the side of caution until you give me a reason to change my mind.”

  The security chief held up his hands and respectfully backed away.

  *

  “We’re up!” Kim called out, and she turned and began wading through kids toward the back of the bus. “Riley, Trevor, Karen. Let’s get their masks on and get them outside.”

  As her leaders worked on unloading them in groups of six, Kim picked up her case of serum, blood samples, and data drives. Then she stepped into the decontamination chamber to see the boy, Jake, helping Savannah hobble down the stairs on a crutch they’d found for her. She’d come a long way in just a few days. Most of the signs of infection had disappeared, and she was another day away from being non-contagious. Until then, she had to keep her mask on.

  She wore a white summer skirt over her bandaged leg and light tennis shoes on her feet.

  Kim stepped out and joined them. “Are you ready?”

  “I am,” Savannah replied, looking around the massive motor pool. “You said this is a scientific facility?”

  “That’s right. We’re going to finish working on the serum and vaccine. If we’re lucky, we’ll mass produce it and get it out to the people who need it.”

  She shook her head. “That’s amazing. Is there anything I can do? I feel like a thirtieth wheel or something.”

  “I meant to talk to you about that.” Kim levelled her stare. “I hate to hit you with this at the last second, but we had to see how the kids would act around you. Seems they’ve gotten used to having you around.”

  “They don’t hate me,” she admitted with a soft voice.

  “And Mary absolutely loves you.”

  Savannah smiled. “She reminds me of my little girl.”

  Kim nodded. “Pretty soon, I’ll be in a lab, working hours on end. We’d be appreciative if you’d help with the kids. We’ll have our apartment wing, and Jessie will be there, too.”

  Savannah’s eyes went wide with surprise, but she recovered in a stammer. “Well, I’d, um... I’d be honored to help out. Absolutely!”

  “Great.” Kim patted her shoulder. “Your first day on the job starts right now. And don’t be afraid to lean on Riley, Trevor, and Karen. They know I’m putting you in charge. Oh, and one more thing. My kids aren’t mine. They’re part of the group.”

  The woman gave her a confused look.

  “The folks here are strangers,” Kim explained. “We don’t want them to know anything about us. Keep it simple. Don’t get too cozy with them. Can you handle that?”

  Looking fearful but up to the task, Savannah nodded and braced her crutch under her arm. They moved into the circle of milling children. Kim began to gather them around, when Savannah raised her voice.

  “Come on, kids,” she called. “Get in line behind me. We’re going now.”

  “Who put her in charge?” someone asked.

  “She’s still an Ugly Eighter.”

  “I mean it!” Savannah snapped, and some kids stepped into line. “That’s right. Get behind me. Come on. Karen, Riley, Trevor. Help me out, here.”

  The leaders jumped in and coaxed and cajoled the others. Within thirty seconds, they had all twenty-eight kids in a straight row, quiet and paying attention to Savannah. The woman stood at the head of the line. She turned and gave a nod. “We’re ready.”

  Kim gaped, her face a question mark.

  “I was a K-12 teacher before layoffs forced me to work in the factory.” Savannah stated. “I probably taught many of their brothers and sisters.”

  “All right. Here we go.” Kim turned and marched toward the front doors where Nancy Inman waited.

  The facilitator was tall and thin, with a long librarian’s face. She put her hands together and gave them a genuine smile as she peered down the line of children.

  “Hi, everyone. Welcome to Redpine.” Her accent was deep south, buttery smooth. “I have to say, I’m thrilled to have so many youngsters joining us. You know, with everything going on out there. Where did you find them?”

  “Kansas.”

  Nancy shook her head and moved down the line of kids, arms wide as if to embrace them all. “Oh, my Lord. That’s a long way from here. You poor things.” She turned and strode briskly back to Savannah and Kim. Her expression had changed from joy to serious concern, eyes watering with tears.

  “I’m going to get you through decontamination as quickly as possible, then we’ll get these kids settled in. We have a great facility here. Built to last, we say.”

  “Thank you,” Savannah replied. She started to smile but glanced at Kim and took a more sober expression. “They’re ten to thirteen, with a pair of nine-year-olds in the bunch.”

  �
��Consider them squared away,” Nancy smiled. “Follow me.”

  They passed through the double doors to enter a lobby. One wall had an emblem of a red pine tree with a circle around it. The branches were highlighted in vivid crimson color.

  The rest of the walls were pristine white. The floors an expensive tile that had a soft, rubbery feel to it. Nancy guided them off to the side, opening a doorway to a long hall.

  “The decontamination chambers are way off the beaten track,” she said. “We hadn’t used them for years, until recently. With people coming and going, it’s fairly routine now. We’ve got a suite of smaller ones by the labs. I hear they work on some nasty stuff down there.

  Kim and Savannah both nodded.

  At the end of the passage, they entered a chamber with several offshoot doors. Bins and drawers were set into the wall.

  “Okay, I know this is embarrassing.” Nancy made an exaggerated chuckle and clapped her hands together once loudly. “But we’re going to have to strip off all of our clothing. Even me. Don’t be afraid. It’s just...”

  The kids were already ripping off their clothes, kicking their shoes into the air, and sending socks and shirts flying toward the wall.

  Nancy turned toward Kim with a shocked expression.

  “We’re all family here.” Kim laughed and lifted her T-shirt over her head. “Seriously. We’ve been doing this a long time. The kids know decontamination. Some have even developed rashes and burns from the chemical washes.”

  Nancy stepped closer, as if speaking in confidence. “I’ll have you know. The soaps and foams we use are top-notch. Very mild. Tough on the fungus. Easy on the skin.”

  “Good to know.” Kim placed her chilled sample case onto a conveyor and sent it through the materials sprayer.

  Nancy ushered them, bare-bottomed, into the first chamber and walked with them, reminding those without masks to keep their eyes closed, notifying them when they could open them.

  “Those with masks,” she continued, “make sure to scrub the rubber seals.”

  The kids laughed, the younger ones dancing around in the cold spray. Even Mary seemed to be having an okay time with it. Like a car wash, they moved from one section to the next. Kim glanced warily at the jets and nozzles as they passed beneath them before standing naked in the last room.

  “Okay, kids,” Nancy said, pointing to a bin. “Toss your masks in there. You’re free!”

  The kids walked by in a line, whipping their masks into the bins. Nancy stood at the end and squirted sanitizer in their hands for them to scrub their faces.

  Nancy started to lift Savannah’s mask, but Kim reached out and grabbed her wrist. “She still needs that for another day or two until we’re certain she’s non-contagious.”

  The facilitator pulled her hand away, her expression wary and a little confused.

  Kim assured her. “Trust me on this one. We’ll keep her isolated in our own apartments for another day or two.”

  “Fair enough,” Nancy agreed. “Just be aware, we monitor air quality throughout the facility. If one room shows contamination, we can shut down the entire wing.”

  Kim nodded. She, Bryant, and Jessie could check that on their handheld devices, and they could override the system whenever they chose.

  “We’ll need to pitch the bandage,” Nancy said, pointing to Savannah’s leg. “And I have some medical supplies on hand for you to redress it.”

  Kim helped Savannah sit on a cold bench and slowly peeled away her bandage to reveal the puckered gunshot wound beneath. She used her back to shield the woman, but some older kids peeked around to see the injury until Trevor and Riley grabbed them and turned them away.

  Nancy returned, handing her a kit of gauze and tape, and Kim went to work cleaning and dressing the wound.

  “Towel time!” the facilitator announced, drawing everyone else toward her.

  She pulled fluffy, cotton towels from a bin and tossed them out to the children. She genuinely seemed to enjoy herself as the kids snatched them out of her hands and began drying off.

  “Next is the dressing room. We have garments for you to wear until your clothes are fully sanitized. Follow me, please!”

  Kim reluctantly left the children in Nancy’s care and helped Savannah stand and hobble on her crutch. It was a rectangular locker-style space with padded bench rows.

  Nancy had already dressed in a pair of soft white pants and a long-sleeve shirt of the same material. She wore short white socks and slippers with rubber soles.

  The kids pulled on similar outfits. Cotton socks and underwear, soft jumpsuits and real slippers. Nancy sized the women up, selected garments from a drawer, and brought them over. “I think these will do.”

  Kim helped her friend dress first before dressing herself.

  “These are softer than the softest pajamas I’ve ever owned,” Savannah exclaimed. She hugged herself, rubbing her hands up and down her sleeves.

  “We look like we’re in a cult,” Kim commented, causing her to snicker. Even Nancy laughed. She confirmed the materials’ softness, running her palms across the tops of her legs. “If the apartments are anything like this...”

  “Oh, you are in for a treat,” Nancy assured them. “Follow me.”

  Chapter 18

  Randy, Fort Smith, Arkansas

  Randy opened his eyes and stared at the army-green sleeping pad beneath him. His arms were stretched above his head, and his back felt cold, like someone had cut it up and sprayed him down with water.

  The floor shook and shivered, rocking gently, floating and drifting. Had they put him in the back of a van? A truck?

  The events of his last waking moments returned along with the pain of his injuries. The helicopter chasing him, shooting at him, pursuing him across two hundred miles. The final crash, a light-headed second when he’d drifted too close to the edge of the road. Eyes flying open, already sliding into the grass, he skidded sideways and flipped over once, twice, and a third time before coming to a bone-jarring halt.

  Unbelievably, he’d survived.

  He’d ignored the distant gunfire, unbuckled himself, and dropped onto the Caddy’s roof. Then he’d crawled away, dragging and kicking, wanting to find a hole to hide in but failing.

  They’d caught him. He was in their helicopter.

  Randy jerked and tried to twist and roll over. A hand settled on his shoulder and kept him from rising. He fought harder, pushing against the pressure, kicking his feet until a pair of strong hands gripped his ankles.

  “Easy, friend,” spoke a gruff, accented voice.

  It wasn’t Hispanic, but nothing like he’d heard in his days growing up in western Indiana. Then he remembered the two men who’d picked him up. A tall, white dude with blonde, spiky hair. And the other man, much shorter, with the russet-toned skin and dark locks streaked with gray.

  Randy raised up against the strong hands, pulling his arms under him and trying to push up.

  They shoved him down again.

  “We’re not going to hurt you,” the accented man hissed. “I told them we didn’t need to shackle you. Don’t prove me wrong.”

  Randy quit struggling, but his shoulders remained tense. “Where are we? Where are you taking me?”

  The man leaned closer. “First, are you aware that you’ve been shot in the back?”

  He closed his eyes, recalling the armory raid. The brief and deadly exchange of fire with the soldier in the woods. He’d blasted the man’s legs, and the man’s rifle barrel sparked in return, causing Randy’s back to flare in pain.

  He nodded. “How bad?”

  “Three. Just missed your spine. You could have been paralyzed, son. Consider yourself lucky.”

  Randy squeezed his eyes shut and rested his forehead against the mat. “That’s me, always lucky.”

  “Are you thirsty?”

  He nodded, realizing how parched his throat was. Not even parched, but raw.

  “Here.”

  A canteen lowered near his face, a
nd he raised himself high enough so the edge touched his lips. He swallowed as the man poured the cool liquid into his mouth. After a long drink, Randy collapsed to the floor with a sigh.

  “We cleaned you up as best we could,” the man said. “Put some antiseptic on the wounds. Bandaged you. Should hold until we get to where we’re going.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “You’re flying in a helicopter, and we’re on our way to--”

  “Missouri? Ft. Leonard Wood? Back to your base?”

  “I don’t know anything about Ft. Leonard Wood,” the man responded. “We’re not the same people who were chasing you.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “Let’s just say we gave you a get-out-of-jail free card. As to where we’re going? It’s Little Rock, Arkansas.”

  Randy swallowed, squinting against the pain. “Why? What’s there?”

  “Salvation.”

  Something in the man’s voice soothed his doubt, and a smug sense of victory tugged the corners of his mouth into a pained grimace. He’d escaped his hunters and lived to tell the tale.

  “I noticed you aren’t wearing a mask,” the man said. “Any reason for that.”

  “I’m infected. I’m dying.”

  The man paused and said something to someone else. Then he leaned closer and spoke again. “What’s your name?”

  “Randy,” he groaned.

  “Good to meet you. I’m Moe. And the big guy holding down your legs is Specialist Trainor. You’re in good hands. Hang in there. Maybe you’ll get to live a little longer.”

  Randy took a deep breath and tried to do just that.

  Chapter 19

  Kim, Redpine Facility, Little Rock, Arkansas

  Kim pulled the silver case off her bed and carried it to the door. She placed her hand on the scanner, and the portal slid open. She stepped into a hall filled with children goofing off and laughing.

  Turning left, she padded toward the head of the long hallway. Her rubber soles fell quietly on the tile floor. She saw Dex sitting at a small table they’d set up as a guard post. Beyond him was a cafeteria and recreation room. All three apartment wings had their own separate facilities plus the communal facilities on the floor above.