The Death: The Complete Trilogy Page 25

  When the darkness finally swallowed them, he stopped to see if his eyes would adjust, but it didn’t do any good.

  The rhythm of his breathing and the firmness of his grip soothed her. She was as ready as she’d ever be.

  “Come on. Let’s see where this goes,” Travis said, pulling her with him into the pitch black.

  Jenks Residence, Reed, Illinois

  They put the last items into the Humvee, including additional food, water and diesel fuel, locked the house, set the Claymore in the driveway and got in the Humvee.

  Tess was driving and allowed her sentiment to stop her before she accelerated out of the driveway. She looked into the side mirror and thought about all the life and death that had occurred in that house and wondered if she’d see it again. So strange she then thought about how a person can feel attachment and connection to a place even though they hadn’t known it long. Catching herself getting emotional to the point of tears, she put her full weight onto the accelerator and turned the wheel hard to the left.

  “Where are you going?” Devin asked.

  “Heading east.”

  “Why? No, we need to go right, head south; that’s where Daryl is going!” Brianna blurted out.

  “We’re not going after him, Bri. We’re going to North Carolina. It’s time for us to get back on our path.”

  “No, please don’t!” Brianna cried out. “What about Hudson? We need to make sure we can rescue him; he’s just a boy.”

  “No, Daryl made our decision for us; I can’t risk us on a wild-goose chase. You read that letter he wrote; he told us to get back on the road and to complete our journey. There are answers to all of this in North Carolina, and that’s where we’re going, period.”

  Brianna began to cry.

  Devin kept quiet. He was conflicted about what to do, but deep down he knew Tess was right. Daryl had left them because he knew the odds of getting Hudson were not good, and he couldn’t live with himself if they perished in the pursuit. In many ways, Daryl wasn’t being prideful; he was being respectful and loving. He was good at math, and the chances were high that Hudson was dead or would die, and he wouldn’t survive either. The slavers had made it clear that Hudson wasn’t available for a swap, and based upon the details of their group, they’d have to fight over thirty men. No, after much reflection, Devin realized that Daryl had shown his love and respect for them by letting them go so they could complete the journey they needed to. He came to see that Daryl, Mary and Hudson weren’t the journey but had been merely a detour along the road that he hoped ended with the answers to the many questions they all had.

  Tess followed Daryl’s example and drove without headlights. The vibrant green glow of the night vision goggles was something she’d have to get use to. The moon’s radiant light helped to illuminate the road ahead, but for as far as she could see, there was ten times that much road that was hidden from her. This represented the unknown in front of them. With only the lessons of what had come before and the brief experience of what was right now, they disappeared into the night, headed for a place that had once been home but would now be as foreign and alien a place as any.

  For Devin, Tess, Brianna and Brando, the only thing that provided certainty was each other. Many challenges existed in front of them, and no guarantees existed as to the outcome of their journey. If a blessing could be found out of the death, misery, hate and horror that now possessed the world, it was that love and friendship could still blossom under the most extreme conditions.

  Epilogue

  Day 2

  October 3, 2020

  Methodist Hospital, Indianapolis, Indiana

  Chancellor Horton exited the elevator and walked pensively down the hall till he reached the two massive doors marked ‘Quarantine Area’.

  A guard stood on post and nodded upon seeing him.

  “Open up,” he ordered.

  The guard obeyed and opened the locked doors.

  Horton walked in and headed straight until the hallway dead-ended. There on the right was a set of two large double doors. He pushed through and entered a large room. The beeping and humming of monitors hit his ears; an intense bleach smell filled his nostrils and slightly tinged his eyes. Out of his pocket he pulled a surgical mask and put it on. This wasn’t done for his protection; it was so he could tolerate the smells of what was on the other side of the thick white drapes.

  He stepped up to them and looked in. There he spied a woman lying on a bed; tubes, wires and sensors sprang from her body like roots from the bottom of a plant.

  A man dressed in a long white overcoat came up beside him.

  “Chancellor, good to see you.”

  “Oh, Doctor Mueller, great to see you.”

  “I didn’t imagine you’d come so quickly, with phase one just underway and all.”

  “I only came because you said it was urgent. What’s going on, Doctor?”

  “We’re not sure, but something has come up that we never encountered in our testing.”

  “So this is Patient Zero?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “So tell me, what’s the emergency?”

  “Patient Zero worked perfectly. We gave her the shots, and just like in testing, she became symptomatic within the twelve-hour window and progressed rapidly. We fully expected her to expire last night or this morning, but she didn’t.”

  “That’s it? She hasn’t died, so you call me in?”

  “We did some more tests, and it appears her body is producing antibodies at an extremely rapid rate.”

  Horton looked at his watch and barked, “Stop boring me. So what? She’s immune; we have other patients.”

  “No, sir, it’s not that. She is clearly not immune, but her body has created, completely on its own, the antibodies that kill the virus. She’s not immune, she’s curing herself.”

  Hearing this raised Horton’s interest. He again peered into the small enclosure she was housed in.

  “What does this mean, and why should the Order be concerned?”

  “People that are immune don’t show very many symptoms, we know this. For her, she has cycled through the virus; it was about to kill her when her body fought back and won. You see, with her a vaccine can be manufactured, not a temporary one, but one that is permanent, similar to other vaccines. You see our Patient Zero can put a stop to Phase One quickly.”

  “Let’s not have her do that. Get her out of here ASAP.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Ship her to the DIA.”

  “We’ll get right on that.”

  “Is that everything?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good, make sure she arrives safely; we need to keep her safe and secure.”

  Horton turned around and began to exit but stopped just short of the doors. He spun around and asked, “What’s Patient Zero’s name?”

  Doctor Mueller flipped to the front of the chart in his hand and answered, “Her name is Cassidy Lange.”

  The Death: Eradicate

  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 fr
om 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 leather 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 j
abbed 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?