“You okay?” Daniel asked.
“Yeah, that was Aaron Geddings. He, uh... he carried me out of a hot zone on my first op out of SEAL training.”
“You're a Navy SEAL?”
“Yeah, six year vet. I was hoping for a tour at the BUD/S facility out in Cali. But it doesn't look like they're gonna need me.”
They had resumed their work and the going was easier now that the bodies were covered.
“What is BUD/S?” Daniel asked.
“Basic Underwater Demolition School. It's where we train to be SEALs.”
“Well, we can sure use your expertise here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean security is our first priority,” Daniel explained. “In case you didn't see it on the news, the death of billions sent most people off the deep end of the pool. There was looting and rioting and crime everywhere. What are the odds that most of the people unaffected by the plague, or virus, or whatever, won't be stark raving mad?”
“Well, I can think of three good reasons,” Jason said.
“Don't,” Daniel said. “Dakota may be a typical teenager, but she isn't normal, not by my standards. She's smart, but she's not whole. And Lana may never be okay. I'm not a psychologist, but we've got issues. And who knows what other unexpected events lay ahead, or how we'll deal with them.”
“Okay, so what needs to be done?”
“Everything. All I've done is lock the doors and windows.”
“What about the security center, isn't Lana in there now?”
“Yeah, sure, but we don't really know what we're doing. We found the training materials but haven't had a chance to study them yet.”
“Okay, well, that at least gives me something to do.”
They chatted on as they finished their work. By the time they were done, they were both exhausted, sweaty, and hungry.
“There's food in the mess hall,” Jason said.
“Did I tell you Lana's a chef?” Daniel said, brightening. “She's really good, too. I'll call her and see if she can whip us up something.”
Daniel pulled the radio from his waistband and raised it to his mouth.
“Lana, can you hear me?”
There was no answer.
“Lana, do you read me?”
Still nothing. Daniel looked at Jason, who shrugged his shoulders. He pulled his radio and called for Lana and then Dakota. But there was no answer from either of them.
“You turned their radios on, right?” Daniel asked.
“Absolutely.”
Daniel thought for a moment, his mind buzzing with fear. He couldn’t think of any reason they wouldn’t answer, except for one. “Oh my God, what have you done?”
Chapter 12
“I haven’t done anything, I’m right here,” Jason said innocently.
“What's going on, Jason?” Daniel said, the accusation clear in his voice.
“I don't know, let’s go find out. You go upstairs and I'll go down. When you find Lana, stay where you are and call me on the radio.”
“No way, we're not splitting up,” Daniel said. He was tired, and maybe that was why he was feeling so paranoid, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something had happened. If someone had hurt Lana and Dakota, he would never forgive himself. “Maybe you did something to them.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No. What were you doing while I covered all the bodies?”
“I was sitting here, resting.” Jason was beginning to move slowly away from Daniel, preparing himself in case things got violent. “Listen, I know we don't know each other, but I'm a man who lives by a code: God, Country, Family. I didn't do anything to those ladies and I wouldn't. I swear on that.”
“Well, if you didn't do something, what happened to them?”
“I don't know,” the soldier said. “I'm pretty sure I checked and made sure the radios were all on the same channel.”
“Are you telling me the truth?” Daniel asked as he studied the man before him.
“Of course, why wouldn't I be?”
Daniel had no real reason not to trust Jason; he didn't really think that the soldier could have incapacitated both women while he had been covering the bodies, but things just didn't add up. Why would the radios not be working? He felt deep down that something was terribly wrong. In fact, he felt as if impending doom had been hanging over his head for days.
“Maybe I'm crazy,” Daniel said, “but I want us to stay together.”
“Alright,” Jason said.
“And I don't want you to be armed.”
McPherson stared at Daniel for moment, then said, “Alright.”
The soldier handed Daniel his pistol and they moved up the stairwell quickly. Once they came back to the main chamber, the mall, Daniel fell back a bit and let Lieutenant McPherson lead the way. They went first to the security room, but it was empty. They searched several other areas but found no sign of the women. Finally they went into the armory. Daniel called for the girls and looked through the racks of weapons but found no one.
“Someone's been here,” McPherson said.
“What? How do you know?”
“There's a rifle missing from this rack.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I've spent the last two days cleaning and inventorying every weapon in this armory. Every rifle and firearm was accounted for.”
“Were they loaded?”
“Of course. The soldiers here were on high alert. Listen, Daniel, these weapons are state of the art. They are gas powered and deadly as hell. We need to be very careful.”
“Okay.”
“And I think we need to arm ourselves.”
Daniel looked at Jason, the paranoia that had abated as they had searched now returned. Why was this soldier so intent on being armed? Then again, he could probably kill Daniel with his bare hands.
“Alright, get what we need and let's go,” Daniel said.
They armed themselves, each with an ammunition belt and holster, pistol and rifle. They made their way back into the main underground chamber.
“So,” Jason asked. “Up or down?”
“Up, I think,” Daniel said.
“Dakota could still be downstairs searching the labs.”
Daniel checked his wristwatch; it read 5:49 a.m. “No, I think Dakota would have finished already. Let's at least see if the elevator is still down here.”
“You don't think it would have gone back up on its own?”
“I don't see why.”
“Well, it's worth a shot.”
Daniel led the way back through the mall and through the narrow hallway past the power and storage rooms. At the elevator, he punched in the numbers and waited. It took over a minute for the doors to open.
“Well, if the elevator doesn't return to the top floor on its own,” Jason said, “you might be right.”
“I think it’s our best bet,” Daniel said. “Besides, if there is someone down here, then we'll have their only way out.”
“It's not the only way out,” Jason said as they looked at each other in the stainless steel box of the elevator. “I've never been inside the White House. Military personnel enter through a corridor at the bottom of the statehouse parking garage.”
“Are you kidding me?” Daniel shouted. He was so mad, so frustrated, that it felt like his brain might dissolve into a puddle of gray jelly. “The girls are missing and you don't feel the need to let me know that there is another entrance to the bunker!”
“I thought you knew about it,” Jason yelled back. “You seem to know everything else.”
“Oh, give me a break. I'm just trying to keep my head above water.”
“Well yelling at me isn't helping you. You need to stay calm if you're going to be any help finding the girls.”
“Oh, yeah, I should have locked you up somewhere when I had the chance.”
“You should have tried it.”
Both men looked at each other, then Daniel lashed out
, throwing a wild punch that seemed slow and awkward. Jason was ready, but when he tried to step back out of Daniel's reach, he found himself against the elevator wall. The punch landed with a crack, right on Jason's jaw. The soldier's teeth crunched and his legs gave out beneath him. In an instant he was fully aware again, but his limbs felt weighted down and his vision was blurry. Daniel didn't hesitate but leaped forward, trying to finish what he had started. He was punching wildly, but Jason was evading the blows.
“I'm going to kill you!” Daniel was screaming.
Jason bellowed back, but his cry was merely an outraged scream. The ding of the elevator reaching its destination was lost in the din, but when the elevator doors opened, both men heard the voice from outside.
“Freeze!” Lana screamed. Her voice was shaking, as were her hands, which held the rifle pointed at both men.
Daniel and Jason obeyed.
“Daniel, are you alright?” Lana asked.
“Yes,” he said between puffs of breath. He hadn't realized how exhausted he was until that moment. “Are you okay?”
“I'm fine. Why didn't you answer your radio?”
“We didn't hear it,” Jason said.
“Oh, how convenient,” Lana said sarcastically. “Daniel, move out of the elevator.”
Daniel stepped out, but Lana kept the gun pointed at Jason.
“I knew we couldn't trust him,” she said.
“Now wait,” said Jason, his hands out in front of him as if to protect him from the bullets she might shoot. “I'm on your side here, I promise.”
“I think we should trust him,” Dakota said quietly. She was a little farther up the darkened hallway and unarmed.
“He was attacking Daniel,” Lana said.
“No, that was my fault,” Daniel said. “I attacked him.”
“What?”
“I was just so worried that I took out my frustration on him,” Daniel said. “When we finished in the hospital wing we tried to raise you on the radio. When there was no answer, he helped me search for you. I think he was just trying to help.”
“Listen,” Jason said, his voice soft and soothing. “I'll leave if that is what you want. I'm not looking for trouble. In fact, I've got some family I need to check on. I don't want anything from you, I swear.”
“I think he's okay,” Daniel said to Lana. “You don't have to keep pointing the gun at him.”
“I want you to leave,” Lana said, her voice was shaking so badly it surprised Daniel that she could even talk. “I want you out of here right now.”
“Alright, I'm leaving,” Jason said.
“No,” Daniel interrupted. “I need him to show me the other entrance to the bunker.”
“He has to leave!” Lana shouted. Then she dissolved into sobs. She dropped the rifle she was holding and fell to her knees. Daniel wrapped his arm around her and held her.
“I think we all need to get some rest,” Dakota said softly.
“You're probably right,” Daniel agreed. “Jason, I'm sorry I hit you.”
Jason rubbed his jaw; it was aching, but he had been too preoccupied with Lana holding the gun on him to notice until that moment. His teeth seemed to grate awkwardly when he closed his mouth.
“It's okay,” Jason said.
“Would you be willing to be locked into a bedroom until we can get some sleep and sort all this out?” Daniel asked.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Alright, come on, let's go.”
Daniel helped Lana back to her feet and handed Dakota the rifle. The young girl held the gun as if it were toxic waste. Dakota led the way back to the second floor of the White House, and Daniel locked Jason into the bedroom opposite Dakota's. He was still a bit paranoid, but too tired to really care. Lana was obviously exhausted, and might have argued against the plan of locking the specially trained soldier in a bedroom that even a child could have escaped from, but there were no other alternatives. They all went to bed, everyone locking their doors and falling instantly asleep.
When Daniel next opened his eyes, his wristwatch read 3:45 p.m. He stretched and felt sleep rising up to pull him down in its dark embrace, but he shook the desire off. He was hungry and he wanted to check on everyone. He rose and found that he alone was awake. He unlocked the door to the bedroom where Jason McPherson was sleeping. The soldier lay on his bed, still in his fatigues and boots. Daniel closed and locked the door again. He went to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee.
It wasn't long before the coffee was ready, and he sipped the scalding liquid as he thought about their situation. To his logical mind, they were in the perfect place, with power and food, even medical equipment to last a lifetime. He could reasonably feel safe once the bunker was secured, but still there hung over his head a nagging fear that he had trouble understanding. It had to do with the bodies of the people they had cremated. Of course being around the dead was creepy, anyone other than an undertaker would feel uneasy after the work they had done all night. But the dread seemed separate from that somehow. It was like he was missing something.
He decided to fix himself some eggs. He was no cook, certainly not when compared to Lana, but she was asleep and he wouldn't dare wake her up just to fix him something to eat. Besides, it was hard to mess up eggs. He found some bread that was a little stale, but he was planning on toasting it anyway. He put the slices into the toaster and pushed down the lever. He was just about to pour the eggs he had whipped with a fork into the skillet when he heard Jason knocking on the door to his room. He left the kitchen and went to the bedroom. He unlocked the door and found the soldier a little bedraggled, but with a smile on his face.
“Good morning,” Jason said. “Or afternoon or whatever.”
“Yeah, my internal clock is way messed up.”
The older man smiled and Daniel realized the soldier was probably ten years older than he was. The man's short cut hair was thinning, with a smattering of gray sprinkled in. He was shorter than Daniel, his frame more compact, but powerful. He had relinquished his weapons before being locked in the bedroom and stood easily at the doorway with no sign of animosity, even though he was sporting an ugly bruise on his left jaw.
“Do I need to stay in my room?” Jason asked.
“No, come join me in the kitchen. The ladies are still asleep.”
They went back to the small private kitchen that had been the exclusive domain of the first family until Daniel had moved in. He was starting to get used to the place, with its decorative luxury and state of the art fixtures. Jason looked around wide-eyed. He had been too tired to take much notice of things when they had come in early that morning. Now, he was in awe of his surroundings just like everyone else had been.
“Oh man, that food smells so good,” Jason said.
Daniel froze suddenly. That's it, he thought, the smell. Why hadn't those people smelt bad? The hospital had ventilation, but that many dead people would have begun to smell, normally. Was it some condition of the plague that kept them from decomposing like normal, he wondered.
“Did I say something wrong?” Jason asked.
“No,” Daniel said, passing the solider his plate of food. “I was just thinking about the bodies we incinerated.”
“Yeah, I'm trying not to think about that.”
“What I mean is that I've noticed something about the people killed in the plague.”
“What's that?” Jason said around a mouthful of eggs. He was eating in typical military style, fast and without much chewing, never looking up from his plate.
“They don't smell,” Daniel explained. “You remember how you mentioned that they had no...no...what was the word you used for the bruising?”
“Lividity.”
“That right.” Daniel continued, “I'm no doctor, but doesn't it seem odd to you that there seem to be no signs of decomposition?”
“Not as strange as the plague itself. Besides, those were crack soldiers who probably held on and fought the disease. They probably hadn't been dead lon
g.”
“How long were you by yourself?” Daniel asked.
“A week, I think, but the days sort of run together.”
“I can prove it, come with me.”
They took the elevator down to the ground floor and went out the west entrance toward the Carpenter's Shop. As soon as they stepped out of the door, the smell hit them. It was an overwhelming stench that made Daniel vomit his stomach full of coffee.
“You left people out here?” Jason said, his voice was muffled with his fatigue and the undershirt pulled up over his mouth and nose.
“Yeah, there were bodies in the White House. I've been meaning to come out and bury them, but there's been no time.”
“Well, we better make time,” Jason said. “So much for your theory on decomposing.”
They walked slowly toward the pile of bodies, what they found surprised them both. The bodies of the two men who had taken Lana hostage were swollen and discolored. Flies buzzed in thick swarms and crawled into their open eyes, noses, and mouths. It was a horrific sight, but a stark contrast to the pile of bodies Daniel had moved from the White House. Those bodies were exactly the same as when Daniel had moved them. There were signs of exposure, sunburned skin, dirt, and even signs that insects had been at them, but for the most part they were unchanged.
“These the two you dealt with?” Jason asked, pointing to the bloated bodies.
Daniel nodded his head.
“Alright, let's get back inside.”
Daniel threw up again before going in. They made their way upstairs, but they could still smell the stench, it was in their clothes and on their skin and even in their noses. They immediately showered. Daniel brought Jason a change of clothes. The solider looked totally different in civilian attire.
“I've got clothes down in the bunker,” he explained.
“That's okay,” Daniel said. “You look less threatening this way. Let's see how the girls respond.”
They were seated in the president's living room. Daniel, still having trouble smelling the bodies, got them both a cigar and they lit them up. The pungent smell of tobacco was a wonderful change. They sat opposite of each other.
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