Utopia Project: Everyone Must Die

by Billy Dering

  “Every time I come here I think the same thing. You would think a general’s house would be more… dramatic,” Jess commented as he held out the crowbar they had been using to open doors.

  “I don’t know if he had choices, but Sara’s father wasn’t really into dramatic anyway.” Kid waved off the crowbar and held up his keys.

  “He actually let you have a key to his house? I’m surprised.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?”

  “Nothing against you. It’s just that Mr. Hyland didn’t seem like the trusting type.”

  “Not by nature, no. But it wasn’t an issue after he got to know me well enough.” Kid was quick to ascertain that trust meant everything in the Hyland house. It took him some time to earn Sara’s trust, and longer still for him to earn her father’s. Finally, last month over the Thanksgiving holiday, the general had asked him to stay at the house with Sara for a few days since he had to leave on urgent military business. With pride born of the general’s trust in him, he shook her father’s hand and said, “It would be my honor.”

  While gripping his hand, the general had pulled Kid closer and peered at him. “You sleep in separate beds. Got it?” The general had a way about him. It was the eyes. He could see right through people.

  “Oh Dad, stop,” Sara had chimed in.

  “Got it,” Kid had answered, and he made sure they did, at least when they were actually sleeping.

  Inserting the key, Kid turned the knob of the front door. “Mr. Hyland?” he called out. No answer. No smell, yet. A laptop computer bag was sitting in the middle of the dining room table, so he figured that the general must have been home when it hit. As he headed through the living room, he passed the picture of Sara and the general at the fifth grade father-daughter dance.

  Walking up the hall, he stopped and pushed open Sara’s door. His eyes adjusted to the dim light and he spotted the familiar and mesmerizing mural that Sara had painted on the wall behind her bed. He saw the woman standing on a dock, facing a full moon, and he swore he could simply step into the scene and enter another world. Every time he saw it he marveled. He had encouraged Sara to present her mural because he was convinced it would win awards, but she chose to keep the work, and its meaning, to herself.

  Pulling the door shut, he continued up the hall and stopped to look at the large, framed picture of Sara’s mother’s tombstone in Georgia. It was too dark to see it clearly, but the large decorative rose adorning the top half of the slab was unmistakable. When Kid first came over, he had found it odd, if not downright macabre, to have such a picture on the wall. But Sara explained that when they moved to New Jersey, her father said he needed his wife’s grave close by since he could not visit it every week as he was accustomed to doing in Georgia.

  He approached the door to the master bedroom and pushed it open, waiting for a wave of stench to hit him. To his surprise there was no smell, and no human remains.

  Sara’s house was empty.

  On the drive back to Old Man Drexer’s beach shack, Kid stared out the window and watched the trees race by. The snow clinging to the branches left a white visual trail. As they reached more populated areas, many of the houses sported holiday decorations. With the snow cover, the ambiance would’ve usually been one of joy and good spirit, but in the shadow of doom the houses seemed as dead as their darkened holiday lights. With every home and business that passed by, the stillness became more and more disturbing. He felt like death was watching them from every window.

  Closing his eyes, Kid thought of his family. He tried to subdue the emotions swelling within him, but the onset of grief was sudden and ferocious. He fought not to visualize individual family members as tears rolled down his cheeks. He wiped them away and shook his head. For the sake of helping the others deal, he would have to find strength. Like blood from a stone, he would squeeze himself. “We’ll have to tell everybody as soon as we get back. No false hopes,” Kid said solemnly. He tried to mentally prepare for the breakdown that would invariably follow.

  “We have to find out what happened here, and see how far this went. We have to keep driving until we find some other people. If we can’t find them here, we’ll go to another state, or another country. We should start by driving over to Pennsylvania or New York,” Jess suggested.

  “The rest of the day is going to be brutal, so tonight we should just stay at Old Man Drexer’s. Then we can take a road trip tomorrow.” Although he didn’t say it, Kid doubted things would be any different in Pennsylvania, New York, or even Vermont where Karen had encountered the same strange red light from the sky.

  They arrived at the shack and parked. Kid trudged up the splintered wooden steps and took a deep breath. He reached out, but before he could grab the knob, the door swung open.

  Heidi erupted. “A quick ride? Where the hell did you go? You’ve been gone over three hours!” Kid and Jess entered with their heads down. “Is everything alright or what?” she continued with her heavy Brooklyn accent as she slammed the door behind them.

  “No, everything is not alright. Everyone in the area has… perished,” Kid said, trying to keep his voice steady.

  “Perished?” Maria stood up. “As in…”

  “Dead. Except for us, everyone in the area is dead.”

  Maria stared at them in shock, with her hand over her mouth. “That can’t be. Did you check…”

  “We went by all of our houses, except Heidi’s since she lives in Long Island,” he added.

  Kid and Jess told them about everything they had seen, notably the horrible mounds of flesh and bone.

  “That’s disgusting. I’m getting sick just thinking about it.” Maria cringed as tears started running down her face. Jess took her in his arms.

  Mark Norris ran out the door, leaned over the railing, and vomited.

  “Maybe New York is fine…” Heidi started.

  “There is not a single New York radio station still on the air. Everything, everywhere is just… dead,” Kid added.

  “I want to go there and see for myself!” she snapped bitterly. She sat on the floor and hugged her knees.

  “Wait, this afternoon I’m helping my Dad pick up some furniture…” Brian said as reality came crashing through.

  Needing every last ounce of strength, Kid tended to his own fragile facade of strength and composure. Sara buried her head into his chest, and his heart broke with every convulsive heave of her teary outpouring. He wished he could take away her sorrow, even though he was drowning in his own already. Kid didn’t want to mention that Sara’s house was empty and give her any false hope. Her father, General Eric Hyland, must have been at the base headquarters when the destruction came.

  The next few hours were a time of solitude and silence, with each person dealing with the tragedy in his or her own way. The couples spent much of the time just holding each other, letting the tears fall, but not saying many words. Mike Norris had his arm around the shoulder of his doubled-over brother. Brian’s vision finally returned as he continued to wipe his watery eyes. Kid grappled with waves of grief and shock, but also the need for answers. Who did this, and why did they do it?

  Maria whispered, “Uh-oh. I’m shaking like a leaf, and I don’t have my medications.”

  “Yes you do.” Jess handed her the two diabetes medications he had secured from her house.

  She took them and kissed his cheek. “Oh, thank God.”

  Heidi jumped to her feet and blurted out, “Can someone tell me what the hell happened last night?”

  “Everything points to neutron beams,” Sara concluded as she sat on the plaid couch. “But we survived. That weapon system was supposed to be foolproof, with no chance of survival, zero,”

  “That weapon system was the modern equivalent of the old neutron bomb, right? It destroys people but not structures?” Kid sat down next to her.

  “Yes.”

  He shook his head, bewildered. “Well, that’s pretty much what we saw out there.”

  She muttered, “If
this was a neutron beam attack, then Professor Cofflin was right.”

  “Who is Professor Cofflin? And right about what?” he asked.

  Sighing, she said, “He was the man who invented that weapon. And he had nothing but fear and regrets from the start.”

  “How would you know that?” Heidi cut in.

  Sara went to speak, but paused. The words seemed to get stuck in her throat. Sighing, she took a deep breath. “Because I was there the day he gave his plans to the military to develop it.”

  November 6, 2043

  Friday, Midday

  Boston, Massachusetts

  A little over a year before the event

  As Professor Cofflin was summarizing lab results and concluding three months of quantum chemistry research in Boston, his stomach would not be settled or quieted. It dawned on him that in his haste to get to the lab that morning, he never made his usual two eggs for breakfast. When he was in his twenties, his body never would have minded. Now in his late forties, missing a morning meal could wreak havoc on his stamina all day.

  Despite being in the final day of a project and being pressed for time, he stopped by the university’s staff cafeteria. Someone had left a science publication on the table so he flipped through it while eating his turkey sandwich. If he appeared busy he might be left alone. Turning a page, an article piqued his interest and he started reading. It described in detail the chemical reaction when detonating a neutron bomb. The purpose of that type of explosive device was to bombard an area with just enough neutrons to destroy living beings, but not enough to damage structures. The article described the most recent neutron accelerators.

  While his mind processed the information, he peered up at the video screen which ran a news channel all day. The reporter presented a teaser about an upcoming story exposing the exorbitant cost of deploying military satellite weapons with modern laser beam technology. She closed by indicating that the only thing being zapped by lasers were the dollars in the wallets of the taxpayers.

  With the mention of lasers, his thoughts turned to a laser distribution model he had worked on several years ago. The design of that particular model allowed for different elements to be funneled as a core, surrounded and enclosed by laser beams, to an exact target. Glancing down at the article about the neutron bomb, he pondered, What if neutrons comprised the core within the laser beams? The lethal neutrons could be distributed within a barrel made of laser beams and could quickly, yet repeatedly, be swept over land areas, like coloring in a shape on a piece of paper with a pencil. The effect would be the same as a neutron bomb, but with pinpoint accuracy. All the while, the beams would sweep so fast that there wouldn’t be any structural damage from the lasers or from too much neutron saturation. The problem was finding a viable, and realistic system of deployment. The laser beams would have to come from above…

  He looked up as the reporter covered the full story she had teased earlier.

  “In just one year, all 48 satellites comprising the United States Global Positioning System have now been replaced with laser-equipped satellites ten times the size, yet 100 times the cost…”

  The sandwich dropped from the professor’s hand. It was as if the reporter was speaking directly to him.

  “Of course, the GPS satellites!” he said and ran out of the lunchroom.

  He pleaded with his superiors for more lab time and explained what he was trying to conceive. Since they had no funding for additional research, they reached out to the United States Department of Defense to see if there was any interest in sponsoring such an experiment. Late afternoon, they received a call from United States secretary of defense himself. Not only was there interest, a contingent of high-ranking military officers was being sent to Boston the very next day. With the pressure on, the professor spent all night developing a satellite laser neutron beam design.

  The next day Professor Cofflin found himself surrounded by high-ranking military personnel, including three army generals. After being offered a research team-leader position, including relocation costs, the professor had agreed to provide the United States Department of Defense with his satellite laser neutron beam design. Needing time to copy and assemble the information, he said he would provide it by no later than 9:00 p.m. that evening. Time was of the essence since an emergent meeting had just been scheduled at the Joint Base McGuire–Dix–Lakehurst in New Jersey for 10:00 a.m. the next morning with the three generals and the United States secretary of defense.

  Based on the interactions throughout the day he could already surmise how the meeting would go tomorrow. Two of the three army generals favored developing the satellite neutron beam weapon.

  At 9:00 p.m., the professor provided copies of all of his documents and files to each of the officers. Two of the generals left as soon as they had the information in hand.

  The third, General Eric Hyland, was still waiting for his ride. He had called his daughter, Sara, three and a half hours earlier and asked her to come down from Vermont and pick him up. He had noted that she was heading back to New Jersey anyway, so with his meeting scheduled for early the next morning, Sara would just have to leave a bit sooner than she planned. General Hyland described his daughter’s reaction to leaving early as, ‘less than pleased, to say the least,’ because she had just met a guy she was interested in.

  Sara arrived in Boston an hour later than expected. Professor Cofflin stood at a window and watched the general affectionately hug his young and vibrant daughter. Even from a distance, he felt the love between them. Watching them, the professor’s stomach became unsettled again, and this time not from missing a meal. It was a sudden and momentary realization, but once he had it, he knew it would consume him. It was like the adage about not being able to unsee something once it has been seen. He had not considered the potential risk of his satellite laser neutron beam design to humanity; the impact on real people, and not just variables in an equation.

  The professor found himself second guessing whether he should have turned over the weapon plans. Like so many scientists before him, he might succeed in the name of science, but fail in the name of humanity. That night he had the nightmare for the first time. It would not be the last.

  After the United States secretary of defense met with the generals the next day, and given that two of the three supported it, he decided to proceed with developing the weapon. Within a week the military had moved Professor Cofflin to the Joint Base McGuire–Dix–Lakehurst, and specifically the Fort Dix Army Base, in New Jersey. A research laboratory with the highest security level was established for the satellite laser neutron beam project.

  A weapon was developed in earnest using the professor’s plan and designs, which started with a series of laser beams, emitted from the GPS satellites in a circular pattern, resembling the barrel of a gun. When initiated, specific elements were fired down through the beam enclosure. The proliferation of neutrons from an accelerator, coupled with the addition of the mysterious red mercury, transformed the shot into a fast-moving stream of neutrons. The laser beams surrounding this lethal mixture served as a strong and accurate barrel that would, in essence, sweep the neutrons repeatedly over a designated area—just as the professor had envisioned. Maybe most innovative, and deadly, was that the neutrons were delivered in a way that allowed them to pass through solid surfaces and structures, including wood, concrete, brick, water, and even steel. There was no way to escape them.

  The professor stayed for the duration of the project, but his remaining days were spent trying to convince everyone that the weapon could never be used, so it should not be built in the first place. The risk would be too great. In the wrong hands, the weapon could extinguish the entire human race in the blink of an eye.

  Despite the professor’s protests, by the fall of 2044, all 48 GPS satellites were modified in space by the United States at great cost, but this time to include the laser neutron beam system.

  The day in October 2044 when the military celebrated going live with the weapo
n system, Professor Cofflin choose to mark the event by sitting alone in his vehicle inside a dark parking garage. He remembered the moment in Boston when his fears were born, and with the death warrant for the human race now signed, those fears would now be realized.

  “What have I done,” he whispered with his voice shaking as he held a cyanide pill in his hand. Swallowing the pill, he washed it down with a swig of water and laid back against the headrest. He could not make peace with this world so he was leaving for the next, and he wanted to stay ahead of the masses who would be close behind. And he could finally escape the recurring gruesome nightmare that now haunted more than just his sleep.

  The beach sand turns nearly obsidian under a looming shadow as Professor Cofflin sprints for his life. The roar and rumble behind are closing in. And no matter how fast he moves, he is never able to outrun a viscous, red tidal wave that churns body parts, bones, and entrails. Clearly discernible, but trapped in the gory sludge are General Hyland and his daughter Sara in an embrace. And then the giant wave crests and sucks him under.

  Chapter 6

  December 27, 2044

  Tuesday, Midday

  New Jersey coast

  The day after the event

  Sara further clarified for Heidi, “A little more than a year ago, a military contingent was sent up to Boston to meet with Professor Cofflin after he conceived something the military was interested in. My father was one of the officers that went. That same day I happened to be in Vermont, so my dad asked me to pick him up in Boston. I wasn't eavesdropping, but before we left I overheard the professor beating himself up for handing over the plans for that neutron beam weapon system.”

  Kid turned. “Boston? Wait, when was that?”

  “Two Novembers ago. November 7, 2043 to be exact.” She gazed at him expectantly. “Ring any bells?”

  “The day we met,” he responded without hesitation.

  Brian paced around inside the shack until he exclaimed, “It can’t be a coincidence that this neutron beam… attack, or whatever it is, happened a week after that Utopia Project was discovered.”