“So, what's your plan?” Jason asked.
“Like I said before, this seems to be the perfect place to hold up and look for survivors. My plan is to secure this place and make contact with other groups.”
“What are you going to do with people who show up here?”
“I guess we'll take them in,” Daniel said.
“You sure the women will accept that?”
“Lana's been through a lot. I don't know what to expect, but I know that we've got to stick together if we want to get through this.”
“I agree. I want to check on my people, but I'd like to come back. I could help with security.”
Daniel nodded. It had been a shaky start, but he liked Jason. Perhaps it was just the camaraderie of having another guy around, but he enjoyed the soldier's straight forward manner.
“I'd like your help before you go,” Daniel said.
“With what?”
“Those bodies, we've got to get rid of them, and I don't want to bury them here.”
“You don't want to carry them down to the hospital incinerator, do you?”
“No way. I was thinking more of getting a couple of pickup trucks and just getting them out of here.”
“At some point we'll need to do that across the city. This many bodies are going to be a breeding ground for disease.”
“That's a monumental task; D.C. was home to over three million people,” Daniel said.
“I know, but it has to be done or we'll all die.”
“What has to happen?” came a voice from the doorway. It was Lana, wrapped in a satin robe over silk pajamas.
Daniel looked up and smiled, “We were just talking about the bodies everywhere.”
Lana nodded. “I'm going to find something for dinner. I take it he's staying?” She dipped her head toward Jason.
“If that's okay with you, Ma'am,” McPherson said.
Lana turned away without a word and Daniel couldn't tell if she was angry or just resigned to the fact that Jason was staying. He couldn't worry about her, he was no psychologist. If she was angry, he would deal with it. He had strong feelings for her, but he also knew that he had to survive. He couldn't do that if he catered to unfounded feelings and emotional fears. Lieutenant McPherson had valuable expertise that they would need, and he had no intentions of casting the soldier out, even if that meant he lost Lana's affections.
“You think she's mad that I'm still here?” Jason asked.
“Maybe, but it doesn't matter. She'll have to deal with it in the long run. I can't be the only man around here.”
Jason smiled but decided not to share the joke that had popped into his mind. Daniel could see the amusement on the soldier's face and respected him for his self control.
“How quickly can you be back if you leave in the morning?”
Jason thought for a moment. “I guess it really depends on the roads. My folks only live an hour away, but give me a day getting there and back, and one day dealing with what I find.”
“So three days?”
“Yeah, I suppose that would do.”
“Good,” Daniel said. “Now let’s talk about that other entrance to the bunker.”
***
They shared a delicious meal of trout in a rich sauce made with garlic and cheese, steamed in a paper bag. Lana had made a squash casserole and salad. They enjoyed coffee and cheesecake for dessert. The group was amiable, but a little awkward. Lana didn't seem angry so much as uneasy, as if she knew something the others didn't about Jason McPherson. Dakota was more social than she had been, but it was clear, at least to Daniel, that her age and lack of social skills made the soldier uncomfortable. Daniel, for his part, ate in silence. He felt trapped between the man he needed and the woman he wanted. Still, once everyone had eaten, their fatigue rose up as heavy as New England fog and they all went off to bed.
It crossed Daniel's mind to knock on Lana's door, but he figured she wasn't quite ready to deal with his romantic desires. He would have been happy just holding her again, like he had a few nights before, but that felt like a lifetime ago. He was tired, she was tired; he moved the desires to another day's agenda in his mind and fell asleep in the Lincoln Bedroom almost as soon as he lay down.
The next day they went down to the bunker and Jason showed them the alternate exit. After exploring the military check station in the bottom of the parking garage, they found a small arsenal and moved the weapons and ammunition to the bunker's armory. After that they locked and barricaded the entrance. Daniel made a mental note to find a way to hook up a video feed showing the parking garage in their security center. He wanted to be able to see in any direction.
Later that afternoon, Daniel and Jason left the White House and made their way to a nearby auto dealership. They selected two four-wheel drive pick-up trucks and returned to the White House. They loaded the bodies into the beds of the trucks and drove to Montrose Park, a few miles northwest of the White House. They built a fire and burned the bodies, starting with the psychotic gunmen. Building a large funeral pyre was quicker and less work than digging a grave large enough for all the bodies. They burned their clothes, too, and washed themselves with dry soap used in desert military operations where water was hard to come by. They had used vapor rub, filling both nostrils to keep out the stench of decaying flesh, and had brought a change of clothes sealed up in plastic food storage bags.
By the end of the day, the group of four survivors was getting along much better. Lana seemed to have relaxed and Dakota, obviously smitten, was at least working hard, even if it was only to impress Jason. They shared a nice meal together and then retired to the living room, where people shared stories of growing up and things they missed.
Jason talked about his job, the connection to other soldiers. He missed the fraternity that forms when men do dangerous work together. Dakota talked about school, how she had struggled to fit in. She wasn't sad anymore, even though it was painfully obvious that high school had been a cruel place for her. She missed art and the chance to go to college and her parents. Lana talked about cooking and about working in a restaurant. She had seen her share of sadness before the plague and now she only missed the social aspects of cooking for people and seeing their reaction to her culinary creations. As for Daniel, he couldn't really think of anything he missed. Of course he missed his family, but he had been apart from them for so long now; through college and law school he had only come home on the holidays. But life had been so radically different than he had hoped; his job as a speechwriter was so boring, but the prospect of going into work with a law firm held no appeal, either. He didn't share these musings, preferring to keep quiet and listen. The truth was he preferred life now. He hated all the death, and of course the moments of fear, but at least he had purpose now. He felt for the first time in his life that he was making a difference, that he mattered.
The party broke up before too long, with Jason retiring for the night. Dakota quickly followed and Daniel felt he should warn her not to do anything foolish like sneak into his room. He didn't even really know why he had such thoughts. Dakota was over 18, and whether any of them liked it or not, they were on their own. They would have to make their own way in the new world, their own moral choices, their own life decisions, and, scary or not, live with the consequences.
He and Lana sat and stared at each other for several minutes, neither of them speaking, but neither of them looking away. Daniel studied her features, the way her dark hair seemed to shine in the evening light, the way her chin stood out, giving her an air of boldness. He loved the liquid sparkle in her eyes, the way they seemed like deep, dark pools of water, the kind you find in fairy tales that take you to another world when you step into them. Daniel wanted to fall into the mysterious world behind Lana's eyes. In quiet moments when they were alone, he forgot that the world had died all around him and that there were things to be done. He only wanted to hold her and kiss her and be with her.
“You look like you have some heavy th
oughts rolling around behind those eyes,” she said, breaking his daydream.
“Oh, not really,” he lied. “I was just thinking how beautiful you look.”
She smiled and looked down for the first time since they had been left alone. She was embarrassed, her cheeks coloring slightly, but she was also smiling.
“Not that your beauty isn't heavy, but I'm just basking in it. There are no original thoughts happening in here,” he pointed to his head.
“Do you think Jason will come back?” she asked.
Jealousy erupted in Daniel like a violent storm. In an instant, while he hesitated before answering, he felt his emotions rip apart like a sail left out in a gale wind. That is why she hadn't wanted Jason around, he was a threat to her because she's attracted to him, he thought. Me, on the other hand, I'm safe. I'm boring and safe and second rate. He felt anger, an old feeling of inferiority that reminded him of being around the jocks in high school and seeing how the girls treated them like superheroes, while they treated him like he was just a good friend. He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before. Jason was a soldier; he was full of muscle and life experience. He tried desperately not to frown, but his smile slipped away.
“I hope so,” he lied.
She nodded but didn't say anything else. Daniel sat there for minute, feeling awkward and out of place where just a moment before he had felt happy and content. Inwardly, he laughed at himself for having believed that things were different now. He and Lana had shared one kiss, but they had never even talked about it. He had wanted to respect her need to heal after having been abducted and subjected to who knows what kinds of horrors. Apparently, he had waited too long.
“I guess I'll turn in, too,” he said, standing suddenly.
Lana stood up, too, and reached for his arm.
“I'm afraid,” she said.
He tried not to sneer and say something that would hurt her. He was tired of being friends; he wanted a lover and a partner, someone who wanted to be with him more than anyone else. It was funny, he thought, how he never felt that way when the world was full of people. Now that his options were so limited, he wanted it more than anything. He looked at her. She was trembling slightly, and he wanted to take her in his arms, to hold her and kiss her, but he wouldn't. He would be her friend. He wouldn't put her in an awkward position by declaring his feelings.
“You better get some sleep,” he said softly. “Things will look better in the morning.”
She smiled a sad smile and nodded. They walked in silence down the hallway of the White House, and he opened the door to the Queen's Bedroom, where she was staying.
“Good night,” she said.
“Good night,” he echoed.
She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. He felt her lips, like burning coals, touch his skin. His blood turned hot and his back tingled. She started to turn away, but he grabbed her arm without thinking about it. She moved closer and stared up at him, her dark eyes shining. His whole body seemed to burn with a white hot fire. He had a little trouble swallowing and tried to speak, but she raised one hand to his lips. Now he was trembling.
“Don't talk,” she whispered. Then she kissed him. Not on the cheek and not like a friend.
Chapter 13
When Daniel woke up, Lana was curled up beside him. He lay in the bed and looked at the light spilling across the ceiling from the gap at the top of the curtains. It had been three days since Jason had left the White House. The solider was up and gone before any of the others had awoken. He left a note that said he would return as soon as possible and Daniel hoped to see him today, but he told himself not to get his hopes up. He thought about his own parents and wanted desperately to go take care of them the way Jason was taking care of his. But he knew he couldn't do that, he couldn't leave the White House, at least not yet. And, like he had done the previous two mornings, he thought about why the people who had died from the plague didn't seem to be dead. He had realized that another thing that bothered him was that none of the plague victims looked dead. He had been to a few funerals in his life. The bodies in the fancy coffins were so waxy, so unreal, that it wasn't hard to think that their souls had left their bodies, if he even believed in that sort of thing. The point he made to himself was that they looked truly dead. The bodies from the plague didn't look dead at all, only like they were peacefully slumbering. Even after days of being dead, they had no signs of decay. Their bodies didn't swell or stink or take on the pallid, pasty look of bad meat. And something deep inside of him blinked; it was the light of truth, but he couldn't see it yet. He couldn't take the time deal with it yet, not with all the responsibility he had to face each day. Lana and Dakota were depending on him to make decisions and stay in control. Facing that truth he knew would stretch him beyond anything he had ever faced. So he turned his mind to the details of another day in the White House and rolled out of bed.
They were taking turns monitoring the security center. Dakota had volunteered for the night shift, allowing Daniel and Lana ample alone time. He had been rising early and relieving her each morning, shortly after sunup, allowing Lana to sleep. Most of the physical work around the White House was done. They had only to learn how to locate other survivors using the satellite centers, but so far they had been unsuccessful. He made his way to the kitchen and started coffee. Once the pot was full, he poured himself an extra large cup and headed downstairs. In the security room, Dakota was reading another of the training manuals. They reminded Daniel of his work in the library, researching precedence and existing laws. He had searched through dusty law books and court records and state government files sometimes 15 or 16 hours a day. He looked at the pile of large binders, with their laminated pages and numbered labels, that were stacked by the main security console. He was beginning to hate this work; it was mind-numbing and while he was used to dealing with mundane facts and figures, he had never had the outside distractions that he now dealt with. He wondered if Jason would return, he forced himself not to spend every moment with Lana, he sometimes hated the White House so badly he thought he would run screaming from it or lose his mind. Of course he didn't, his sense of responsibility always outweighed his personal desires. So he sat in the chair, checked all the cameras around the White House, sipped his coffee, and picked up the next binder on the stack.
Dakota had retreated quietly upstairs and gone to bed. After a few hours, Lana appeared with a plate of breakfast. She seemed happy, cooking everyday and spending her evenings with Daniel. Today, she had made biscuits from scratch, sausage, scrambled eggs with onions, mushrooms, and cheese. Finally, she had made gravy, but the milk was all gone and they were forced to start using powdered milk. The gravy was rich, but not quite right somehow, Daniel thought. He ate it all anyway. In fact, he had probably put on a few pounds due to Lana's cooking, and the fact that eating was about the only form of entertainment they had left.
He had been in the security room almost six hours when Lana relieved him. She took a turn in the room in the middle of the day so she could cook in the evenings. Daniel stretched and walked slowly up the stairs. He decided that he needed to do something fun, so he went into the bowling alley. There were shoes and balls and everything he needed, so he fired up the scoring computer and typed his name in. The room was long but narrow, and it was a little claustrophobic, but Daniel didn't mind. He had never really enjoyed bowling, but he felt that he needed to do something physical, something that would challenge him and get his mind off the great sense of aloneness that had risen inside him the last few days and the endless questions about what had actually happened to people during the plague. He had his suspicions, but he needed to get some concrete answers. He planned on making a trip to the Pentagon soon, but didn't want to leave Lana and Dakota alone. Nor did he want to leave the White House just yet, in case survivors showed up.
He pushed all thoughts aside and focused on the pins in front of him. The lane seemed long and very thin. The bowling ball felt heavy in his hands, but smooth and co
ol. He could tell just from the way the ball felt that it was a custom ball, not like the ones found among the racks at the local bowling alley. This ball had weight, probably 13 or 14 pounds, but there was a balance to it, where the balls he had used in the past felt like large stones. He practiced approaching the foul line a few times until he felt comfortable. Then he took a deep breath and bowled his first ball. The ball fairly flew down the lane, making the characteristic sound of the heavy ball rolling on the wooden lane. The ball was slightly offline, and by the time it reached the pins it was well to the right. Daniel frowned as he watched, but when the pins were struck, even though he hit only three, they flew and bounced, knocking down four more pins in the process. Daniel looked at the scoring monitor, it showed a 7. Not bad for my first time in years, he thought.
He waited for his ball to pop up from the track in the ball return. He picked it up and resumed his place in the center of the bowling lane. He moved slightly to his left to hopefully correct his aim, then started his approach. Just as he was about to release the bowling ball, his radio, which he had set up on the scoring table, crackled to life.
“Daniel, there are people coming,” Lana's voice said. “Did you hear me? Daniel, there are people approaching the White House. Can you hear me?”
Daniel grimaced as he watched his ball. The radio had made him jerk just as he was swinging the ball, causing it to cross quickly to the gutter and rocket down the lane with no chance of scoring. He walked over and picked up the radio.
“Yes, Lana, I hear you. How close are they?”
“They're on the driveway, about halfway from the front gate.”
“Alright, meet me on the second floor.”
The day Jason had left, Daniel made preparations for the possibility of survivors being unfriendly. In the Blue Room on the first floor, which was actually above the ground floor, he had set up everything he might need on one of the ornate wooden tables. The first thing he grabbed was a pair of high-powered binoculars. He stepped to the door that lead out onto the portico and looked down the curving driveway. There was a group of people, ten by Daniel's count, making their way slowly toward the White House. They were walking, although limping would have described them better. It was obvious that some in their group were injured or sick, and they all seemed as though they had been without basic necessities for many days.
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