“Yes, true. When she and I were exposed, our bodies developed the proper T-cell memory and we became immune.”
“How is that?” Senator VanAllen asked. “It is my understanding the two of you did not know the other existed until recently.”
“That is correct,” I answered. “The two of us have the same father but a different mother.” She probably wanted me to go into detail of my father’s philandering, but it wasn’t going to happen. “Our father’s lineage is from Scandinavia. The DNA haplogroup of my father’s ancestry tree is apparently unique and therefore the reason why my sister and I were able to become immune. She and I were originally identified as having the immunity by Major Grant Parsons.”
I paused again. Everyone was attentive, but again, I had no idea if they were following me. Seeing no questions, I kept going.
“Major Parsons had conducted testing previously and once I came to Mount Weather, a vaccine was created, which all of you have been inoculated with. Now, before you ask, yes, the vaccines earmarked for Ohio were sabotaged, and unfortunately, probably created a new strain of the zed virus which is commonly referred to as the fifteen. That topic is for another day, so, that concludes my explanation. Oh, and one final note—sometimes a person can still become infected, even with the antibody in their system. Any questions?”
There was some whispering between Janea and Serena, but no questions.
“I know this is boring stuff, but if any of you have an interest in the scientific field, please let me know. We have an ongoing need for people to train as doctors and scientists. Alright, let’s break early and go to lunch. After, we will meet in front of the motor pool for this afternoon’s training.”
Before I could dismiss the class, Janea raised her hand. “What happened to the pregnant zed and her baby?”
I saw her glance over at Senator VanAllen and the good senator respond with a conspiratorial wink. So, they’d set this up. Janea was a nice girl, smarter than most of her peers, but like most kids, she was a little naïve. The senator had planted this question in her head somehow.
“The zed mother and her baby are still alive at Fort Detrick. I’m afraid I cannot discuss anything further about them at this time. It’s confidential information. Okay, get out of here and go eat lunch.”
I shut down the equipment as the students filed out of the classroom. I’d noticed a spelling error on my PowerPoint presentation, so I thought I’d correct it before heading to lunch. When I looked up, only Senator VanAllen remained.
“I must say, that was a very informative lecture, Zachary,” she said.
“Who is Zachary?” I asked.
“Why, isn’t that your name?”
“No, it isn’t,” I said. “Perhaps you weren’t listening earlier when I corrected you. Maybe you’re hard of hearing.”
She smiled like she’d scored points in this ongoing battle of hers. “My, my, someone is thin-skinned.”
I took a moment to shut down my laptop before responding. “What’s your game, Senator? Why are you still here?”
“I was complimenting you. Can’t you take a compliment?”
“You are apparently complimenting somebody named Zachary,” I replied. “You seem to believe calling me Zachary instead of by my title or real name is a passive-aggressive way of insulting me. So, I’ll ask again, what kind of game are you playing?”
She stood and walked toward me, stopping within a couple of feet. She was wearing tan slacks and a light green blouse with the top two buttons open, exposing a hint of cleavage. She was extremely thin when she was first rescued, not unlike most other rescues. Once they started eating regularly, they usually gained weight. Sometimes, they’d gain too much weight. Rochelle kind of fell into that category. All the weight she’d gained went directly into her rear end. She seemed to think all men had a weakness for big meaty butts, and maybe some did, so she always made a point of wearing tight-fitting pants.
I did not think of her as an attractive woman though. Her forty-something years plainly showed in the lines on her face, especially around her mouth and eyes. When she came close to me, I could smell perfume.
“Did you know, rumor has it that Serena is in fact carrying your child?”
When she said it, she had a smirk fixed on that little mouth, like a weasel who had spotted its prey. I fixed her with a cold stare.
“No such rumor exists,” I replied.
One of her cronies snickered. She took a step closer. Now we were maybe a foot apart. Too close for my comfort. The scent of perfume was stronger. She was making sure I could smell it.
“No, not yet,” she said. “You know how the Mount Weather community is, they love gossip, and once a rumor starts, it’s hard to dispel. One might say it’s downright impossible.”
“What exactly do you hope to gain by starting such a rumor, Senator?”
She stared a moment and offered what she probably thought was a knowing smile.
“You know, Zach, we do not have to be adversaries.”
“It was never my intention or plan to be your adversary. You chose that role.”
She continued staring up at me, but now the smile changed back to that little smirk. She then reached up and ran her fingers through my short hair. I did not like it and pulled back.
“Are you a natural blonde?” she asked.
“Why do you ask?”
“You should let your hair grow out; the women here would love it.”
“My wife likes it just the way it is,” I said. “Why don’t you stop with all of this pretense and tell me what you want?”
She continued to smirk. “You are a follower. Did you know that? Incapable of leading anyone other than these children.”
“Okay, if you say so,” I said.
She gave a short, smarmy laugh. Her two cronies also dutifully laughed. She stopped after a second, but the smirk remained.
“Have you ever considered taking your family and moving out of Mount Weather?”
Yes, I have. Several times. But she wasn’t going to know that.
“Why would I?” I asked.
“Sometimes, you have to take a long hard look in the mirror and reevaluate yourself. At the current moment, President Stark is your staunchest supporter. Probably your only supporter. Have you ever thought about what would happen if he were voted out of office in this upcoming election?”
I instantly understood. Whether she knew it or not, it all made sense to me now. During a recent meeting, a resolution was called for. After much debate, which was a nice way of saying there was a lot of arguing and yelling, the resolution passed by a narrow margin. There was going to be a presidential election in November.
I understood now why she was being so argumentative in the meetings. She was right. The Mount Weather grapevine seemed to function at the speed of light. By being a vocal opponent of the status quo, she would be winning fans of certain members of our community who were disenchanted with the current administration, and I was a part of that current administration.
“When do you plan on formally announcing your candidacy, Rochelle?” I asked.
The smirk remained, maybe even broadening slightly. She gave a lingering stare before she abruptly turned and walked out. I waited a minute for those three to be long gone before hurrying to the cafeteria.
Sammy was sitting with Serena and her mother, Susan. I loved Sammy like he was my own little brother, and therefore I was fond of Serena as well. I debated on it a moment, decided there was no good way of doing this, so I chose the direct approach. I walked over and sat down.
“Hi,” I greeted.
“Hi, Zach,” they chorused.
Susan merely gave a small nod in acknowledgment of my presence. Serena liked me, but her mother was a different story. Susan Abbot was an attractive woman in her late thirties who always kept her blondish hair rather short. She was once an aide to Senator Esther Polacek who was killed by a sniper a few years back. Even though the killer was a piece of trash with no ass
ociation with Mount Weather, Susan always blamed President Stark for the Senator’s death. Because of my relationship with Stark, she’d always been cordial but aloof toward me.
“Listen, I have something extremely important to tell the three of you. So, I want your undivided attention.”
“What is it, Zach?” Susan asked.
“You guys are the first to hear this, so I want you to keep it confidential. Senator VanAllen intends to run for president,” I said.
Susan gazed at me steadily, which told me she already knew, which meant she was probably on her side.
“Dang, really?” Sammy said.
“Yep, and it gets better. Her campaign strategy seems to consist of spreading rumors and sowing seeds of discontent.”
“I don’t believe she is spreading any rumors,” Susan said evenly.
“Maybe not directly, but she’s behind them, and she’s about to spread a big one,” I said. “She’s about to spread a rumor that I am the father of Serena’s child.”
Serena gasped. “Why? I mean, why would she spread a lie like that?”
I glanced back at Susan. Her expression was that of surprise now, but then her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “She wouldn’t do something like that,” she declared.
“She told me as much not more than ten minutes ago,” I replied, let my stare linger for a few seconds, and then focused back on Serena. “She’s doing it to smear me. I’m an ally of President Stark—you might even say we’re friends. She’s going to attempt to smear the character of anyone associated with the president, including me. By doing so, she hopes to sway enough votes and win the election.” I made pointed eye contact with Susan again and then focused on Sammy.
“You know this is bullshit, right?” I asked Sammy.
I thought Sammy would respond with a grin and tell me I wasn’t handsome enough for Serena, or something like that. Instead, he hung his head. I certainly did not expect that kind of reaction. I looked over at Serena for help.
“That’s downright stupid. Everyone knows who the father of my child is,” she said.
“Are you sure she’s going to do this, Zach?” Susan asked.
“That’s the threat she made,” I said. “We know it’s preposterous, but there are people around here who’ll believe anything and will eagerly spread such a rumor, so I wanted to give you guys a head’s up.”
“Thank you, Zach,” Susan said. “We’ll deal with it, if it really happens.”
“Okay,” I said and stood.
I gave Sammy a pat on the shoulder and left them. I thought about Susan’s reaction as I walked back to my table. It confirmed what I suspected; she was an ally of Rochelle VanAllen.
“How goes it?” I asked when I sat. Most of the Tennessee regulars were already present.
“Same old,” Jorge replied. Josue nodded.
“Are we still doing the training this afternoon?” Cutter asked.
“Yes, indeed,” I said.
Cutter exchanged a grin with Jorge. “This is going to be fun.”
After lunch, we were going to give them practical training on phalanxes. Cutter, Jorge, and a couple of others were going to be the acting zeds and attack their phalanx. Cutter peered around conspiratorially.
“We’re going to have a surprise for them,” he said under his breath. “A scouting team found a big box of balloons last week. We’re going to fill them with dyed water. This’ll be fun.”
“Nice,” I said. If Rochelle showed up, maybe one or two balloons would accidentally on purpose hit her. I smiled at the thought.
I waited to eat until my family arrived. When they walked in, little Macie tore away from Kelly’s hand and ran over as quickly as her little legs would allow. She jumped up on my lap and gave me a hug.
“I’ve missed you, Daddy,” she said and gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.
“I’ve missed you too,” I said and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “I’ve missed all of you,” I said. Frederick had walked up and was standing beside me, fidgeting impatiently.
“Ditto,” he said. “Can we go get in line? I’m hungry.”
I chuckled as I glanced over at Kelly. She gave me a warm smile and herded the kids. I followed along. Soon, we had trays of food and were enjoying a meal of an assortment of vegetables and hamburger steak.
“How did class go this morning?” she asked.
“It was interesting. Senator VanAllen paid a visit. Something we’ll need to talk about. It’ll be a little bit of a surprise.”
She frowned at the understanding of my message.
Surprise.
It was our code word for distress. She could clearly see my life was not in danger, so she was not unduly alarmed, but she knew something was wrong.
“After lunch,” I said under my breath. Kelly gave a subtle nod.
We ate our lunch and made pleasant conversation with everyone. The kids were mostly mindful. After, we passed a few people in the hall and conversed idly. It delayed us a few minutes, but we made it back to our suite in fifteen minutes. Young Frederick had to take his post-lunch poop and Macie wanted to take a nap. That gives us a few minutes alone. I quickly filled her in.
“She really threatened to do that?” Kelly asked.
“Not directly, but yes, she implied it.”
“You need to go straight to President Stark,” she said.
“Yes, I do. I’ve already spoken with Sammy and the Abbotts.”
“How’d they take it?” she asked.
I told her of how each of them reacted.
“Do you really think Susan is on VanAllen’s side?”
“Yeah, it appears that way,” I said. “She always thought Stark caused the events that led to Polacek’s death.”
“Yeah, she does,” Kelly said. “What about Sammy?”
“I don’t know. He knows I would never do something like that, so his reaction seemed weird.”
“I’ll talk to him,” she said.
I nodded in agreement. From almost the moment that Sammy arrived in Tennessee, Kelly had treated him like her own son. In turn, Sammy doted on Kelly and would do anything she said.
“When are you going to talk to the president?” she asked.
I sighed. “I need to go right now before he takes his usual nap.”
“Is there something else?” Kelly asked.
“What?”
“Is there something else? You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”
In fact, when I awakened this morning, I decided I was going to tell her about my little encounter with Riley. But now I was second-guessing myself.
“No,” I found myself saying.
Kelly nodded.
“Alright, it is nap time for these three and then school later. I’ll see you later.”
She gave me a hug and I did the same with each of the kids before heading toward the president’s office. I found Ruth in the front office, which meant Stark was already taking his post-lunch nap.
“What’s up?” she asked.
I explained everything and asked her to bring the president up to speed when he woke up.
“You should probably be here waiting on him,” she suggested. I shook my head.
“I’m overseeing this afternoon’s training session. If I’m absent, that might be detrimental.”
“Alright, I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks, Ruth,” I said, glanced at my watch, and hurried out.
I jogged out to the soccer field where the kids were already hanging out. A couple of them saw the shields and broom handles. Janea spoke up as I approached.
“What are these for?” she asked.
“Good question. All of you gather around me and I’ll explain. Now, while we’re waiting for the QRF…”
“What’s a QRF?” one of them asked.
I scrutinized the boy who asked the question. His name was Nicolas and he was from the group who lived in an airpark outside of Gaithersburg. We’d gone over the commonly used acronyms severa
l weeks ago. Honestly, I didn’t think he was all that smart and he probably would have been better off back at the airpark mucking out the barns.
“There they are,” Sammy said, pointing at a group of people walking toward us.
Each was fitted out and armed with various weapons. One of them was Riley. I caught a pointed stare before someone began talking to her. I focused on the students.
“Guys and girls, this is Mount Weather’s QRF, which is an acronym for what? Who can tell me?
“Quick Reactionary Force,” Janea said with a grin.
“Correct,” I said. “When Mount Weather comes under attack, certain things happen. If the threat are zeds, members of the QRF will form a phalanx team.”
Jorge casually stooped down and picked up a shield and broom handle. He then raised the hand that held the handle and shouted, “Phalanx team, on me!”
Nine of them rushed toward Jorge, grabbing shields and broom handles. Within seconds, they were formed into a phalanx.
“The phalanx is a type of military formation,” I said. “Early records indicate this tactic was used as early as twenty-five hundred years before Christ. As you can see, the phalanx is formed in the shape of a rectangle with shields facing outward. The broom handles represent spears.”
As if on command, the QRF team stuck the broom handles out from between the shields and made jabbing motions.
“As you all know, zeds can only be truly killed by inflicting major trauma to their brains. Each…”
“But can’t some of them be killed like regular humans?”
I peered at the person who interrupted me. It was Nicholas.
“That is true for some of them, but not all. When you are in the heat of battle, treat them all as if they need to be brained. Now, before I was interrupted, I was pointing out that each member has their own personal melee weapons, but the primary weapon in a phalanx is the spear. You can stab the zed through the eye socket while in relative safety behind the shield wall.”
A hand raised. It was Nicolas again. “Can’t the zeds get under the shields and bite your legs?”
“If you’ll take a look at the members of the QRF, you’ll see they are wearing boots and leggings,” I said. I pointed them out. “Also, if this were an actual event, they’d be wearing protective head gear. Sometimes the member will wear protective clothing like heavy jackets and thick gloves, but that’s problematic during hot weather.”
Zombie Rules (Book 7): The Fifteens Page 23
