The Death: Extinction Page 6

  Taking Travis’ truck, all five drove to the crest of a hill above the silo. There they’d have a good position to view the town and the attack. Not wanting to skyline themselves, Travis told them all to stay low.

  At the top, Travis saw exactly what he thought he’d see. The town was under heavy assault. By a quick count he saw six SuperCobra attack helicopters and on the ground he counted fifteen Ospreys, meaning the town was being attacked by at least a company-sized infantry unit, and if he had to guess, he’d say they were Marines. It disgusted him to know that many of his brothers in arms were still doing the bidding of Chancellor Horton.

  The Cobras were hovering above the town. Periodically a TOW missile would blast from a tube mounted on the side and slam into the town, shaking the ground around them.

  “I’m going to help,” Josh declared and stood up to go back.

  “Don’t be a goddamn fool. What do you think you’ll be able to do?” Travis challenged him.

  “Something. I just can’t sit here and watch good people be slaughtered! Those are my friends down there!” Josh yelled, his face flush as his emotional state was taking over.

  “Be practical. That is a company of U.S. Marines with the support of six SuperCobra helicopters. The town is fucked. I’m sorry, but by the time you get there, you’ll just get killed and not accomplish anything.”

  The other two men, Bill and Tom, had also stood to go with Josh, but they lacked the passion to go back.

  “The magistrate gave you a mission, take Cassidy to New York. That is your job now,” Travis said.

  “I feel bad not doing something,” Cassidy replied.

  “Don’t, you’ve done your part,” Travis countered.

  “But I haven’t. It’s all lost. There was no way they had manufactured the vaccine. The samples I gave them are gone.”

  Travis hadn’t thought about this, but what could they do now? “What do you suggest?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered just as more explosions boomed and automatic gunfire cracked in the distance.

  “While you talk, my friends are dying. I’m going back and you can’t stop me,” Josh declared. He marched toward the SUV and got in. “Who’s coming with me?”

  Bill and Tom stood.

  “Captain Priddy is right,” Bill said.

  “And you? We risked lives to save you!” Josh yelled at Cassidy.

  “I, um, I don’t know,” she answered, fumbling her words.

  “Cowards!” Josh said harshly and sped off.

  More heavy machine-gun fire echoed across the plains and rolling hills.

  She looked towards the town now covered in black billowing smoke. Tears filled her eyes and began to stream down her face. Josh was right, but so was Travis, she thought, never in her life had she been so conflicted. She had yet to witness the harsh realities of the world she had awoken to. It was like she was having an out-of-body experience.

  “Looks like we’re walking back to the silo,” Travis said.

  “What are we going to do?” she again asked Travis.

  He looked at her tear-covered face. Her eyes told him everything; she was afraid and rightfully so. Had they run late by an hour, they would have been under attack and probably dead.

  “We’re going to live to see another day, that’s what we’re going to do,” he said, trying to reassure her.

  “But the town.”

  “It’s lost. What we need to do is get out of here. They might be looking for you and I’m not going to let them find you.”

  “What about Josh?” Bill asked.

  “He made his decision, but we need to leave, now!” Travis said and put his hand out to Cassidy.

  She took it.

  He pulled her up and said, “Let’s go.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Plan hasn’t changed; let’s get you to New York.”

  Pine Bluffs, Wyoming

  “What did you do to him?” Horton asked, looking at his old friend and adversary.

  “He was resisting, sir,” Wendell replied.

  “Calvin, can you hear me?” Horton asked, snapping his fingers.

  Horton had his former colleague brought to the city hall building and placed in the very chair where the magistrate had sat when he met Lori, a strange coincidence that only the magistrate knew. The light from the late morning sun had been shining through, but Wendell closed the blinds tightly.

  The magistrate opened his blackened eyes to just slits. He looked at Horton, smiled and said, “Look at you. God, don’t you age? You’re like Dick Clark.”

  Horton pulled a chair out and sat down across from him and smiled too. “So glad to see my old friend still has a sense of humor.”

  The magistrate turned his head and spit out a large glob of blood. “Can you take the restraints off?”

  “Sure,” Horton replied.

  With the stiff plastic ties removed, the magistrate rubbed his sore wrists and touched his battered face.

  “You had to know I was coming, I thought, I really thought I wouldn’t find you here. I mean, you’re smarter than this.”

  “I guess you’re smarter than me,” the magistrate quipped and spit again. “I think your men knocked a few of my teeth out.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about those, you won’t need them anymore,” Horton said, revealing the magistrate’s fate.

  “Why, why did you have to kill so many innocent people?”

  “Why? You know why. There was no way of saving Gaia without doing it.”

  “There had to be other ways, there had to be. You were a good man; you taught me so much. I loved you once, like a brother. I believed in you and that we could come together to create a better world. There had to be another way.”

  “We tried those. We infiltrated governments years ago and attempted to work within the system. You know this. We tried to implement environmental policies and even drastically changed the healthcare systems of the world. But these fundamental changes did not have an impact. The capitalists and other movements prevented us from totally remaking the world the way it needed to be. Our environmental initiatives were hijacked with carbon credits and hybrid cars, which you know didn’t lower the carbon footprints of coal or pollution. It gave the masses enough to feel good and they kept right on abusing the planet but now felt good about themselves. We failed, those policies failed. I thought once we took control of the healthcare systems that we could begin the process of reducing the population by restricting the quality of care under the guise of access. But you know what happened. We created our very own monsters. In order to take control of the governments through the electoral process, we needed to have a needy populace. We promised them care and security and in exchange they would give us power. You know what we got in return, a population that was worse; they only cared for themselves and what we could give them. It backfired. I don’t have to repeat everything, but you know it failed and failed miserably. We ended up with a disgusting mass of uneducated sheep who now felt entitled, and when we began to press forward with our policies, they resisted and decided their own hedonistic lifestyles mattered more than the planet. This had to be done, it had to be. The planet was headed for a point of no return. Now with the scourge of mankind removed, the planet can begin the healing process.”

  The magistrate coughed and once again spit out a large amount of blood. “Hmm, I think your men hurt me pretty bad. I think I’m bleeding internally.”

  “You told me you loved me and let me be honest, brother Calvin, I loved you too, but you betrayed us, you betrayed me and even tried to have me killed.” Horton shifted in his chair and chuckled. “I have to say, you’re resilient, and how on Earth did you manage to get a nuclear weapon and the polonium to boot? Brilliant!”

  “You taught me well.”

  “I was going to just chat with you and then kill you, but you know something, seeing you there and our little conversation so far makes me miss the old Calvin. Don’t mistake me, you’re going to go back t
o the universe, but I’ll make it painless.”

  “You’re such a gentleman,” the magistrate joked.

  Horton dug in his pocket and pulled out a tiny aerosol bottle and placed it upon the table. “You see this?”

  “The new virus.”

  “Yes.”

  “Didn’t you kill enough? Why take it further?”

  “So often we use to refer to man as a cancer, but that’s not true. You can’t manage cancer, if you have it, then you have to get rid of all of it. I don’t want to kill man off entirely. I want to have a small but manageable herd. Man is more like whiskey; if you have it in small amounts, it’s good, because a small glass of whiskey makes me feel great. Mankind has the capacity to create such wonderful and beautiful things. However, when you drink too much whiskey, you become drunk and get sick. You see, the planet is sick and drunk from too much mankind. I’m merely here to moderate what the world is allowed to take in.”

  “So you’re the world’s parent; you’ll give it the small doses it needs. I have to ask, though, what happens after you die? What’s to ensure things don’t return back to the way they were?”

  “I don’t know and just because I won’t always be around doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try to save the planet. If man again repeats its harmful and selfish ways, then hopefully another man or woman like me will rise up and put them down.”

  “I’d love to drone on, but I don’t feel very good, and to be honest, I think I’m dying. My abdomen hurts really bad.”

  Horton held up the tiny bottle and said, “Soon my vision will be realized. So strange that something so small can have such a huge impact.”

  “I know what you mean, so much power can be held in such small things,” the magistrate said with a bloody-toothed grin. One of his front teeth was gone and the other broken in half.

  Placing the bottle in his pocket, Horton shocked the magistrate with a revelation. “If you’re referring to the other nuclear weapon you left in town, don’t get too excited.”

  The momentary glee the magistrate was feeling melted away.

  “I wouldn’t come here if I thought you had something up your sleeve. You see, I knew you were smart, and if you hadn’t left, it was because you wanted to draw me here. You couldn’t kill me before, but maybe if you sacrificed yourself, you could do it. You see, I gave my men specific orders, don’t kill unless directly threatened. I had them then gather every living soul and begin the process of true enhanced interrogation, not the phony bullshit but bona fide torture. It’s amazing what people will divulge when you’re cutting off fingers.”

  The magistrate tried to get up, but his wounds made for a slow response. Wendell grabbed him and held him down. “But you’ll never find her, never!” he yelled, referring to Cassidy.

  “I don’t need her anymore.”

  The magistrate shrugged off Wendell’s grasp and spit across the table at Horton.

  “Now that wasn’t very nice.”

  “You may think you have it all thought out. But let me tell you that your hubris will be your downfall. As I sit here now, I’m telling you that you won’t survive the onslaught you’re about to release.”

  Some of the magistrate’s spit had landed on Horton’s long sleeve. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped it off, then tossed the soiled cloth onto the table. “Calvin, your bomb will go off but long after I’m gone. You see, I was going to kill you myself, but like I said, seeing you brought back some fond memories. You should die honorably and quickly, I owe you that from our past,” Horton said and stood up. He opened the door, and just before he left, he turned and said, “Goodbye, my old dear friend.”

  Dulce, New Mexico

  Mueller found the clothes the woman had arrived in and searched each pocket for anything that would tell him who she was, but he found nothing except a small silver charm of two ballet slippers with pink bows. He looked for any inscription but again came up with nothing. He carefully placed it on a box next to the bed. A small folded piece of paper was in the back pocket of the jeans. He unfolded it, but again nothing told him who she was. On the paper was a handwritten poem. Like the charm, he placed it on the box. And lastly an old Indian head penny dated 1902 was in the coin pocket of her jeans. He put the penny with everything else. What a strange combination, he thought. Looking at her, he understood the charm and even the poem, but the old penny—odd, he thought.

  Her body seemed to be accepting the vaccine. Since falling asleep during her bath yesterday, she hadn’t awoken. Her sleep had been difficult at times with spasms and tremors, but the blood flow had reduced and her fever had come down.

  He now had her on an IV, catheter and drugs to manage her pain.

  If she were to survive this, it would be amazing but not impossible. The new vaccine he had developed worked well on other patients. He had even gone as far as taking it himself. That made her and him the only two living people to have received the vaccine; the test patients who had received it were immediately disposed of once it was proven it worked.

  His two assistants hadn’t returned since he told them to leave. At first he was concerned, but soon didn’t care. He knew his value had decreased, but he also knew few people cared much less knew about him being there.

  A long fluorescent tube began to flicker off and on just a few feet away. He ignored it at first, but soon it began to agitate him. “Argh.” He left his seat next to her and went to a supply closet where he’d seen replacement bulbs.

  He placed a ladder just below the flickering light and climbed up. The bulb tinged each time it flickered off. He carefully rotated it, but it wouldn’t pull out. He pulled harder, but it was stuck or jammed. “Oh, c’mon,” he snapped. He gave it a harder pull and it broke free, but the force of his pull caused him to lose his grip on it. The long bulb fell to the laminate floor and exploded into thousands of pieces. “Damn it,” he exclaimed. He climbed down from the ladder and looked at the mess on the floor. He was tired and had zero interest in cleaning it up.

  A rustle from the bed got his attention.

  He turned to see her rolling over. This was the first time he’d seen her really move since yesterday. He hustled over to the bedside and looked to see if she was awake.

  She was. Her eyes were open, and upon seeing him, she reacted negatively. “No, no.”

  He saw her fear and said, “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to save you.”

  “No, please, no more.”

  He took a step towards her, but she recoiled.

  Seeing this, he stopped. He took a step back and raised his arms. “I’m sorry about what happened to you, but nothing like that will happen again, I swear.”

  She sat up slightly and pivoted her head, looking for the other men. In her memories those were the two who had tormented her.

  Mueller sensed she was looking for his lab assistants. “No one is here. It’s just us.”

  Her fear gave way to misery as she began to sob. Her tears were pinkish as some blood was still present in her tear ducts.

  He grabbed a few tissues and gave them to her. “I swear, I’m here to help you. I’ve given you a vaccine and the good news is it appears to be working.”

  “Where am I?”

  He looked around the room and replied, “It doesn’t matter, but I can tell you it’s a safe place for now.”

  “Why am I here? All I remember is I was taken with others from my camp.”

  “You’re safe, I promise.”

  “Who are you?” she asked, looking at him suspiciously.

  He took a step towards her and answered, “My name is Dr. Mueller.”

  She again recoiled when he approached and pleaded, “No, not any closer.”

  “If I were going to hurt you, I would.”

  “You did hurt me, I remember you. You sprayed me with something after those other men stripped me down,” she cried then lifted the sheets to look at her body, now clothed. “Did you? No please tell me you didn’t.”

  Muell
er didn’t know how to address her intense fear except to keep trying to reassure her. “You’ll be fine now.”

  “Did you rape me?”

  “No one touched you like that; I can assure you of that.”

  Her steady tears became sobs as she examined herself.

  “You need to rest; I can’t stress that enough. The vaccine is working and now what you need is rest, fluids and nutrients.”

  A loud bang on the lab doors scared her. Instinctually, she hid beneath the sheets as if the thin cotton would shield her like metal armor.

  Mueller too was alarmed by the bang on his door.

  Two more bangs followed.

  He approached her, tossed another blanket on top of her and rushed towards the door. Ever nervous that any visitor could represent his death, he’d finally decided he’d protect himself. He stopped in his office and from the top drawer pulled out a semiautomatic pistol. He was unfamiliar with how it worked but understood the function enough to press the magazine release. He looked at the fully loaded magazine and reinserted it. He pulled the slide back and a bullet flew out. This startled him, as he wasn’t expecting it. He nervously scrambled to find the bullet, but it had hit the floor and rolled away.

  More banging at the doors echoed through the lab.

  “I’ll be right there!” he yelled.

  The slide had gone forward and he assumed it loaded another bullet. Jittery from who might be at the door and anticipating a fight, he put the pistol in his lab coat and made for the door.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s James. I need to get some of my stuff.”

  James was one of his lab assistants.

  “What do you need?”

  “Let me in, Dr. Mueller.”

  “What do you need? I’ll get it for you.”

  An uncomfortable silence spanned tens of seconds.

  Mueller placed his ear against the door and listened. He heard James whispering to someone.

  “Who’s with you?”

  “Doctor, please open up.”

  “I’ll empty out your locker and Bradley’s too. Come back in an hour!” Mueller hollered.

  Unintelligible chatter from the other side of the door heightened Mueller’s anxiety.