The Death Trilogy (Book 2): The Death: Eradicate Read online

  The Death

  Eradicate

  Book Two

  THE DEATH TRILOGY

  John W. Vance

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2014 John W. Vance

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  For information contact:

  [email protected]

  www.jwvance.com

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 10: 1505528801

  ISBN-13: 978-1505528800

  DEDICATION

  TO MY BEAUTIFUL AND LOVING WIFE

  YOUR DEDICATION AND SUPPORT IS ENDLESS

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue DAY 14

  DAY 209

  Day 210

  Day 211

  Day 224

  Day 226

  Day 227

  Epilogue Day 233

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Prologue

  Day 14

  October 16, 2020

  Washington, DC

  Horton sat pensively tapping his fingers nervously on the leather satchel he cradled in his lap. A small bead of sweat coursed down his throbbing temple as he peered up at the clock that he swore wasn't working. The small hand indicated he had only been waiting for twenty minutes but to him it felt like twenty hours. His nervous anticipation was apparent and he began to worry the guards would notice his odd behavior.

  His phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. He took it out and saw the number was blocked. Believing it was one of his colleagues and the timing wasn't appropriate he hit decline and placed it back in his pocket. A moment later the phone vibrated again. He again pulled it out and saw the same blocked message. Frustrated by the timing he answered it, "Yes."

  "Stop what you're doing, this is madness," the voice said.

  "Who is this?" he asked.

  "Please, we can stop this from getting any further, please for God's sake," the voice pleaded.

  Horton became frightened, he wasn't sure who was on the phone but the voice did sound familiar. His eyes darted back and forth to see if the guards were suspicious. "I don't know who this is, but it's too late."

  "I will not let you finish this genocide, I swear to you, I will not allow you or the Order's vision to become reality."

  "Wait a minute, is this Calvin?" Horton asked, suddenly realizing who was on the other end.

  "Please don't do this. We can stop this together; I know you're better than this," Calvin begged.

  "FYI, your timing is really bad, but why don't you tell me where you are and we can talk."

  "No."

  "Calvin, it's too late, but if you want to join us again, I can talk to the others."

  "You're sick, you really are. I promise you, your dream of Arcadia will not be realized," Calvin sternly said and disconnected the line.

  Horton pulled the phone away from his head and looked at it. "What do you know, a blast from the past."

  "Sir, no phones, please put it away," a guard said from down the hall.

  Clearing his throat, he asked, “Um, any idea on when—” Just then the elevator doors down the hall opened.

  “Mr. Director, please follow us,” one of the suited guards said to him, gesturing towards the open elevator doors.

  Quickly wiping away the perspiration, he stood and shuffled down the ornate hallway towards the large elevator car not a foot behind the guard.

  He paused just before stepping on and took a deep breath.

  “Director Horton, is everything all right?” the guard asked, noticing the peculiar pause.

  With an awkward smile, Horton answered, “Everything is fine.”

  A man appeared from the corner of the large elevator, his dark suit and demeanor telling Horton he was someone important, and asked, “Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine, just nervous is all,” Horton answered, a smile still on his face.

  The man looked him over and asked, “You have the vaccine with you?”

  “Yes, I do, right here,” Horton replied, tapping the dark leather satchel now draped over his shoulder.

  “Good, come on,” the man instructed, motioning for Horton to step on the elevator.

  Horton quickly entered and faced the man. “Sorry, just nervous. Not every day you get to meet the president.”

  “I wish it could have been under better circumstances for you,” the man said.

  The elevator doors closed.

  A guard that was on board inserted a key, turned it right and hit a button marked B.

  “B stands for basement?” Horton joked.

  “Actually, it means bunker,” the man answered.

  Horton looked around the large elevator car and noticed it wasn’t what he thought it would be. Somehow he fully expected it to be adorned like the hallway upstairs, but it was a simple stainless steel box. He could feel the speed of the elevator as they sank deep into the earth.

  “I’m sorry, but I should have introduced myself. I’m Dan Bailey, chief of staff.”

  “Hi.”

  “I’m surprised you never met the president before,” Dan commented.

  “Um, no, I was appointed under the previous administration, so never got a chance.”

  “Makes sense. It’s not as if the director of the CDC is really a political position.”

  Horton chuckled and said, “You’re right, no politics on my side. Heck, I can’t even remember when I voted last.”

  Dan looked at him and cocked his head.

  Horton saw the discerning look and looked away.

  “It’s truly amazing that there’s a vaccine for this virus already,” Dan commented.

  “Like I mentioned, it was fairly easy to synthesize. We took patient zero into custody immediately, and with her, we’ve been able to create this.”

  The elevator stopped abruptly and the doors opened to another hallway. This one did not have the same appearance as the one above. It was nothing more than a well-lit concrete chute.

  “Right this way,” Dan said as he exited and walked briskly down towards a large metal door at the end guarded by two armed men.

  Horton followed right behind.

  “Gentlemen, you know me. This is CDC Director Horton on behalf of the president.”

  The door beeped, clicked, and suction sound soon followed as the door unsealed and began to open up.

  When it fully opened, Horton saw a wall and two more guards.

  Dan stepped in and Horton followed.

  The large door closed behind them, sucked closed, clicked and beeped.

  “The president is waiting for you in his residence,” Dan said as he turned left and walked down a hallway that looked more civilized and reminiscent of the hallways in the White House above.

  Horton nodded to the stoic, statue-like guards and followed Dan.

  After navigating through the maze of hallways, they stopped just outside another large metal door, unmarked but manned with two more guards.

  “Let the president know the CDC director is here,” Dan ordered.

  The guard pressed a button and spoke into a throat mic.

  A moment passed and the door clicked and opened fully.

  “Madam Secretary,” Dan said.

  “Hi, Dan, he’s right here,” Secretary of State Donna Crawford said.

  Dan walked in with Horton right behind him.

  Horton looked around the room and was impressed by the accommodations given the president even in his bunker. The room they were in was a lounge of some sort, with tufted le
ather couches, thick plush carpet, and dark mahogany wood paneling with large brass sconces every six feet. In the far right corner was a large fully stocked bar, opposite that was a large square table, its polished top covered with papers and documents, and hovering above it was the president.

  President Brown, a tall, lean man with thick curly hair looked over and said, “Director Horton, just the man we’ve been waiting for. Please come over here.”

  Horton smiled and rushed over, his hand extended.

  Brown looked at his hand and said, “Is this a test?”

  Horton raised his eyebrows, then understood the comment. “Yes, correct.”

  “I believe that was part of your protocol, no handshaking,” Brown said.

  “Right, yes, sir.”

  “You have it?”

  “Right here, sir,” Horton answered and again patted the satchel.

  Brown quickly rolled up his sleeve and took a seat.

  Dan stepped forward and interjected, “Now you’re sure this won’t harm him?”

  Horton’s eyes had grown twice the size as he stared at Brown, his enthusiasm piqued.

  “Director Horton, did you hear me?” Dan asked.

  “Yes, yes, we’ve tested it. It works.”

  “Human trials?” Brown asked.

  “Yes, sir. Based on your orders, we administered it immediately upon creating it,” Horton answered. He had the satchel on the table and opened. “I even took it myself,” Horton lied.

  “You realize we can never disclose…”

  “Yes, sir,” Horton acknowledged, interrupting Brown, but his focus was fully on a small sealed box.

  “I’m ready,” Brown said, his arm extended and ready to receive the shot.

  Horton pulled a syringe from a sterile wrapper and injected the tip into a small vial. He pulled the plunger back and watched as the barrel filled halfway. He set the syringe down, took out an alcohol wipe, and dabbed the spot he was about to inject on the arm. Once done, he took the syringe and stepped toward Brown. He took his arm, and just before he was about to stab him, he paused. This moment was huge; it was impactful and would finalize phase two of his and the council’s plan.

  Brown looked up at Horton and asked, “Director, everything okay?”

  “Fine, sir, everything is just fine,” he said, then jabbed Brown’s arm and pressed the plunger down.

  “How soon do you think we can mass produce this?” Dan asked, escorting Horton back to the elevator.

  “We can start on it within a couple weeks,” Horton lied.

  “Good.”

  “Just keep the president and everyone else quarantined down here. I recommend after I leave that no one else be admitted until we get this produced and sent out,” Horton instructed.

  The elevator doors opened.

  Dan put his hand out and said, “Thank you so much for your hard work and dedication.”

  Horton looked at his hand and didn’t hesitate to take it. He shook it firmly and said, “My pleasure.” He stepped onto the elevator and watched the doors close.

  Just before they could close completely, a hand jutted in and stopped them. The doors reopened and Dan was there. “I forgot to mention, on your way out the president ordered that you go and give the vaccine to the vice president. You can do that, right?”

  “Of course I can. I brought enough just in case the president changed his mind,” Horton answered, a large grin stretched across his face.

  “Good man, thank you again, Doctor, we’ll see you soon.”

  The doors closed and whisked Horton away.

  Day 209

  April 28, 2021

  North Topsail Beach, North Carolina

  For Tess, the long and harrowing drive from Reed, Illinois, now seemed like it was the easy part of her long journey back home. For the past ten minutes she stood frozen in the driveway of her old house, her eyes fixed on the weathered and flaking blue paint. She found it strange that after a little more than seven months it looked as bad as it did. Maybe it was the tall grass and weeds coupled with the trash and debris that littered her street that gave an impression of dingy. Whatever it was, a fear gripped her that was uncommon for her. The answer to what she had been seeking for months sat inside, but was she ready to find it?

  Brianna sat in the Humvee, staring too, her eyes unmoving from Tess’s back. She wanted to go out and ask her if everything was okay, but deep down she knew why she couldn’t move.

  Against Tess’s wishes, Devin had gotten out and was patrolling the street and the exterior, seeing if there were threats. Upon his return, he found Tess exactly where he had left her. He stepped towards her, but she put her hand up, signaling for him not to approach.

  Devin complied and with a look of concern turned his attention to Brianna, who shrugged her shoulders. He contemplated ignoring her request but knew he would be met with anger if he approached her. Instead he barked, “All clear around the back. I didn’t see anyone, but the house has been broken into. Nice spot, by the way.”

  “Tess, enough. Go inside and find out where your man is,” Tess mumbled under her breath.

  A quick movement caught Brianna’s eye. In the house across the street, she saw a blind move and what looked like a shadow shift.

  The Humvee was parked in the middle of the street, perpendicular to the houses.

  She leaned across the center console and peered through the side window towards the house. Nothing, no movement, but that didn’t mean somebody wasn’t there. Now with concern, she shouted, “Devin, I think I saw something in the house across the street, number 17!”

  Devin raced towards the Humvee, his eyes glued to the house, rifle at the ready.

  Hearing this, Tess finally moved. She turned around and looked towards the house Brianna had mentioned. She thought for a moment, then remembered who lived there, Mr. Phil Banner, a snowbird from New York and his wife. It wasn’t unrealistic to think he had survived and was still persevering through all of this.

  “That’s Mr. Banner’s house. He’s harmless,” Tess said.

  Devin craned his head towards Tess and remarked, “Harmless? No one’s harmless anymore.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Tess said as she took her first step towards her old house.

  The salty smell of the Atlantic Ocean filled her nostrils and instantly brought back happy memories of her and Travis’s time there. Like it was yesterday, she thought of the first time she saw the house. He had surprised her by getting the property and had gone as far as blindfolding her so she wouldn’t know where it was. A slight grin crossed her face as she thought of that special moment and how she knew exactly where he was taking her.

  When one sense is impaired, the others take over. Her ears captured the sound of the grated bridge that took them over to the island, and the seagulls confirmed they were close to the ocean. The sounds of seagulls were gone now, but the old bridge still stood. When he parked the car in the driveway and excitedly got out and opened her car door, her nose and ears confirmed it. The rich salty smell hit her and the lapping of waves sealed it. Before he could get her to the front door, she had blurted out, “Topsail Beach, you got us a place on Topsail Beach!”

  She made it to the stairs and looked up the worn wooden steps that led to the front door. Like most homes on Topsail Island, they were constructed using pile foundations so that they would sit up one story off the ground. She had never been a fan of the look; she forgave it so she could have the location.

  Taking the first step, she paused and allowed another emotional moment to pass. She blinked hard, looked back up, and said to herself, “Tess, enough, your friends are waiting. Go.” This was the last bit of encouragement she needed. She knew she was holding things up, and the longer they sat, the more vulnerable they could be. With her newfound confidence, she bolted up the steps and made it to the front door. The screen door was torn and the front main door was wide open. Painted on the door was a large X with a zero above it. She looked at it and wondered what i
t meant, but soon put that aside. Her mind now wondered how long the door had been open. She stepped in and right away could tell by the condition of the living room that it had been open and exposed to the elements for months.

  She wasn’t angry at the sight of her house, destroyed by nature and strangers, she was just sad. Sad that the one place that had symbolized happiness and love was now gone and would never come back. She still held the memories, but this was a reminder that the life before was gone too. The shambles of her home was the physical representation and stark illustration of what the world had become.

  She pulled the Glock 17 from her shoulder holster and opened the screen door. The large picture windows that overlooked the beach and ocean beyond brought in enough natural light for her to see. The crunching sound of broken glass underneath her first footfall hit her ears; the unpleasant noise was matched by the strong mold odor that hung in the air. She took a few more steps and paused; she could not be too careful. It didn’t appear that anyone had been there in months, but after over a month on the road, her experience told her to never take chances. She steadied her breathing and continued on. From room to room she went, only to find the place had been ransacked by people for whatever items they thought had value. Seeing the amount of rummaging made her distraught that she wouldn’t find the note left by Travis. All he told her was that he had put it in a safe spot, but where was that? One place she thought it might be was in the safe that had been bolted to the floor, but that was gone, a square hole remained. Her mind raced, and she scrambled from one possible location to the other, but each one proved wrong. With no other options, she fell to the floor in exhaustion and anger.

  As she sat looking at the pieces of what had been her life strewn around the room, she strained to think of where he might have put it. She had pored through the photo albums, Bible, his favorite fiction novels; she had gone through every drawer in every room, but nothing. Where was it? Was there even a note? Was it destroyed?

  She didn’t know how long she had been sitting there thinking when the tap at the door jarred her back.