Descent: Into the Darkness (Forgotten Origins Trilogy)

by Tara Ellis

  Kyle tried to approach us right after the attack, but Benuk was adamant no one else risk exposure. He ordered everyone to continue wearing their masks and made Nate, Kyle, Missy, and Jim stay at least twenty feet away from Chris. I got a new mask for him from the packhorse.

  Trying to get the image of the torn mask out of my mind, I almost miss the change in the surface under my horse. Pulling back on the reins, I look down and study the ground. “The logging road!” I call out. “We found it!”

  Taking the flashlight out from under the saddle, where I have it wedged so everyone can see me, I wave it in the air. “Stay here,” I say to Chris, Seth, and Benuk. While we are almost positive Seth and Benuk are immune to the Nephi2 virus, I’m the only one 100% certain not to be a carrier. Since Seth and Benuk were also likely exposed, we all agreed they should also separate themselves from the rest of the group until they are clear of symptoms for twenty-four hours. Of course, by then, if we haven’t gotten Chris antiviral meds…

  I can’t think about that. Not now.

  Concentrating on the positive news instead, I trot up to the rest of our group. “We reached a logging road,” I tell Jim, accidentally shining the light in his face. He winces in the bright glare before I shift it to the side.

  “Yeah, I heard you,” he says wearily. We’ve been riding hard for hours and it’s taking a toll on all of us. I hand him my flashlight as I hear him pulling maps from his pocket.

  “How’s Chris doing?” Kyle asks quietly.

  I’m not sure how to answer, but I know honesty is the best way to deal with it. “His glands are already swelling. He has a sore throat, watering eyes, and the beginnings of a fever. We have to get him to the base and on the antiviral meds within twelve hours to have any chance of beating it.”

  “We don’t even know if they’re going to have the meds at the base yet,” Nate points out.

  “I realize that!” I snap, frustrated. “But it’s the only hope we’ve got.”

  “Sorry,” Nate whispers sheepishly. “I’m just feeling like an ass for leaving you guys back there.”

  “We both are,” Kyle adds, his voice rising. “I thought Chris was behind us. By the time I realized he wasn’t, he was already pulled off his horse and Shiners were in between us. I didn’t know what-”

  “Stop it, Kyle!” I interrupt. “You did exactly what you were supposed to. If you hadn’t, all of you would probably be infected, too. Including Missy,” I add, knowing this will get through to Kyle. He’s become very fond of my best friend and I know he feels protective of her. Although he can’t see my face in the dark, I can see his and know my words hit home. His features soften, and he reaches out for Missy. Finding her arm, he holds on.

  “Alex is right,” Missy agrees, covering Kyle’s hand with her own for reassurance. “It all happened so fast that it was essentially over before we could have done anything. Right now we need to concentrate on finding the base.”

  “It’s close,” Jim suddenly says, the flashlight bobbing. “Closer than I thought, if that’s the right road. There are only a few of them out here, so odds are that it is. You see?” He holds the map out toward us, pointing the light at it. “I believe we’re right about here, where this line that represents the logging road is. If we just follow it south, then southeast for a few miles, it intersects with this access road which then connects to the freeway. That’s only about forty miles from the city and base.”

  “That’s still nearly fifty miles,” Nate states with concern. “We’re averaging less than that for a whole day.”

  “Correct,” Jim answers curtly. “But that was at a steady walk, meant for traveling long distances. These horses are top notch. They can gallop at over thirty miles per hour. Granted, we’ve already been pushing them hard for half the day, but they can do it if we make some changes.”

  “What kind of changes?” Benuk’s deep voice comes from the inky blackness behind us, and I jump. Turning, I can see he’s gotten off his horse and walked a few feet in our direction.

  “Well, for starters, we can’t all make it,” he explains, squinting in Benuk’s direction. “Chris is already on the best mount, the senator’s own horse. I suggest Alex and Seth push ahead with him as fast as the horses can go. We can remove most of their gear and add to our own to help lighten their loads. You’re just too dang big, Benuk,” he continues, “to drive your horse any harder. And the rest of us don’t have to get there that fast, so it makes more sense for us to go slower with the pack horse and all the supplies.”

  “And Baxter,” I add. I look down at my friend when he whimpers in response. “You know you’ve been struggling all day to keep up with us,” I whisper to him. “I’d feel much better if I knew you were safe, with them.” Hanging his head in resignation, he walks over next to Missy’s horse.

  “Sometimes I’d swear that dog knows exactly what you’re saying to him,” Kyle observes. I let it go. That’s a conversation for another time.

  “Here, take the map,” Jim says, holding it out. “You’ll need it more than I will. I have another one anyways. It’s topographical, but I can still figure it out.”

  “Thank you, Jim. I don’t think we would have found our way without your knowledge and help.”

  “Just get there in time,” he replies, and I understand how much he’s come to care for us.

  “Let’s get going then!” Seth calls out to us, and I see Benuk has gone back and already removed the bedrolls and extra packs from his and Chris’s horses. Even though Seth had never been on a horse until five days ago, he’s learned quickly and now rides as well as I do. I see the sense in having him ride with Chris and me since he’s immune, but I wish it could be Kyle or Nate instead. Chris needs his friends with him right now.

  Calling out our goodbyes to each other, our two new groups break apart just as the moon finally decides to make an appearance.

  “Thank God,” Chris says, watching as the much-appreciated light creeps across the road. Wiping at his nose, he turns to me, and I try my best not to react to his appearance. His eyes are red-rimmed, with bags beginning to form, and his nose is raw. I can already see the enlarging glands in his neck. It reminds me so much of when my mom was sick that it’s all I can do not to panic. We have to get to the base before time runs out.

  “Ready for this?” he asks me, trying to smile.

  Reaching out, I gently touch the sharp lines of his jaw, tracing it down to the swollen edges of his neck. Turning into my caress, he kisses my palm before removing it. “I’ll be okay,” he says firmly.

  “I know. We’ll get there in time, Chris. They’ll have the antivirus.”

  “This is sweet and all,” Seth interrupts. “But if you really want to save your boyfriend’s life, we should probably start moving now.”

  Hoping that my glowing eyes will freak Seth out, I direct my cat-like gaze at him, full of contempt, before spurring my horse into a gallop. With the wind hitting my face, and the feel of the muscled creature moving under me as we race into the dark, I feel like an animal of the night. A dangerous one, if pushed too hard.

  I make a promise to myself to seek revenge for all of the loss and death, including the ones this afternoon. I’ll find RA, and then I’ll make him pay.

  SEVEN

  It’s been nearly six hours, and the sun finally came up about an hour ago. We’re getting so close now, but it might not matter. It’s been almost eighteen hours since Chris was infected, and he’s been steadily getting worse. Our horses are exhausted, and they can’t go much farther before they collapse.

  We’re currently running through a field south of the freeway, staying parallel to it. We saw several people out and about once we started getting near Great Falls but we never slowed down enough to find out if they were Shiners or not. I saw a sign a while back for the base that said ten miles, but I’ve lost all perception of time and distance at this point. None of us has slept for over twenty-four hours, and we’re on autopilot.

  Because of this,
I’m startled when a tall cyclone fence topped with barbed wire suddenly looms up in front of us. My horse sees it before I do and comes up short, nearly throwing me off. I recover quickly though and follow the fence to the left where I can see a red-and-white sign attached to the wires in the distance.

  “Restricted access, US Military,” I read aloud once I reach it. Seth and Chris come up behind me. “We made it!”

  “Maybe,” Seth replies, always the pessimist. “We still have to get inside.”

  Several gunshots ring out near my head, and instinct takes over as I throw myself to the ground. Looking up, I start giggling when I see it was just Chris firing into the air.

  “What the hell!” Seth shouts at him. He didn’t have quite as extreme a reaction as I did, but it’s obvious he was startled.

  “We want to get the attention of the authorities at the base as fast as possible,” Chris says with some difficulty, a wet cough interrupting his explanation. “I figure this ought to do it.”

  The laughter dies on my lips as another coughing fit grips him, and I push myself up from the ground. I grab Chris’s arms to steady him when he slides off his horse and struggles to breathe. I can’t believe how bad it’s gotten already. His skin feels like it’s on fire under my hands and I know that we’re rapidly running out of time.

  The sound of approaching hoof beats draws our attention, and all of us watch with anticipation as a group of soldiers comes into view. “It worked,” I whisper.

  Chris steps away from me, his breathing now under control. “Warn them,” he says hoarsely and walks further away from the fence.

  The first of the men reach us, and I see that Chris’s concern over exposing them was unnecessary. They’re wearing real respirators with filters, clearly prepared to deal with the new Shiners. “Lower your weapons immediately and identify yourselves!” He orders.

  Chris and Seth are smart enough to drop their rifles before ordered to, but I haven’t even thought about the gun slung across my back. Slowly and cautiously, I slip the strap off my shoulder and follow their commands, keeping my hands in view.

  “My name is Alex Mubarak,” I state loudly and confidently. “Senator Zane is expecting us. Please radio him and tell him we’re here. My friend needs medical care right away.”

  The six men have all dismounted their horses and they take several steps back as they realize Chris is sick. But my name seems to have an effect. The guy in charge raises a hand, directing the others to stand at ease. One of them steps forward and removes a square backpack that I recognize as an old-school radio.

  Thank you, God.

  It takes several minutes of garbled transmissions, but we finally get permission to enter the base. About a hundred meters away is a small, gated entrance, and they lead us through it.

  “You will stay close to us, speak to no one else, and put these on,” the leader barks as he tosses respirators and gloves at us, his voice muffled through his own mask. We follow his instructions without question and then push our tired horses to keep up with the men as they take off at a full gallop across the vast space between the outer and inner fences.

  My vision becomes distorted when the mask gets all steamed up, but I can still see well enough to be impressed. There are watchtowers spaced about every one-hundred feet throughout the ‘dead zone,’ with one or two soldiers in the lookouts. In addition, there are mounted guards near the interior fence as well as armed foot soldiers stationed at every entrance. No one’s going to get through here without being seen. That’s good.

  It’s nearly twenty minutes before we get close to any buildings. Jim was right. The base is huge. It’s essentially a small town, with everything you’d expect one to have. Where we entered was a remote location, but there are neighborhoods in the distance and what looks like a vacant shopping mall and several streets of other various shops. Nearest to us is a more standard military complex, with plenty of cement and dull colors.

  While the base appears to be capable of housing thousands, we’ve only seen a few dozen civilians, all kept at a distance. The numerous military personnel we’ve encountered are all intent on some task and although this is an Air Force organization, there’s a mix of branches here, including Army and National Guard. There’s an air of extreme order and precision, and I find this even more reassuring than the security efforts.

  As we get closer to a three-story, massive structure, a set of double doors near us bursts open, and several men and women in different attire rush out. “Dismount!” Our escort shouts, and we again do as he says.

  Before we even have a chance to get any of our gear, the new entourage takes the reins from us and starts to lead the horses away. I see now that their clothing, while not fatigues, is still military ordinance, but more practical. They must be in charge of the animals.

  “That’s the senator’s personal horse!” I call out. “Be sure he knows it’s here.”

  I’m not sure if they heard me, because no one answers. Chris takes my hand to pull me forward before I can say anything else. His skin feels hot through the latex gloves. Looking at him more closely, I quickly forget about the horses. I let go of his hand and wrap my arm around his waist to help him walk. The weight against my arm suddenly lightens, and I’m surprised to discover Seth has come along his other side to help. I’m sure Chris would resist if he weren’t too weak.

  “Through here!”

  I’m getting used to following orders already, and so I obediently help steer Chris through the open doors. It’s the same entrance the horse people came out of, and our tour guide is the only one that got off his horse to hold them open for us. The rest of his group stays behind as he takes us the remainder of the way solo.

  The corridor is pitch-black and the mask over my face makes it difficult for even me to see, despite my night vision. When a flashlight comes on, I can only imagine the relief Chris and Seth must feel.

  “Power has been out since the EMP six days ago,” the soldier explains. “While the lower levels are being powered by our shielded generators, all other unnecessary units are not.”

  “Generators?” Seth asks, echoing my own thoughts. “So you do have power?”

  “Yes. This base is designed to withstand a powerful pulse and maintains gas and solar-powered generators, water pumps, air purifiers, and an independent computer network. Of course, that doesn’t change the fact there are no satellites, no internet, or any other form of outside communication. We’re totally self-contained.”

  “Where are we going?” I ask, both relieved to hear there’s power here but also disheartened to have it confirmed that the rest of the world is in the dark.

  “Infirmary. The senator will meet you there.”

  After descending two dark stairwells and following what seems like an endless maze of halls, we finally emerge onto a third sub-level that’s illuminated. Squinting against the glare, I can immediately tell we’ve entered a medical facility. The hall is full of health equipment, and the people working here are dressed in stereotypical white garb. Instead of respirators, they’re wearing the same type of flu masks Jim gave us.

  A plump, balding man comes bustling toward us with a clipboard. “Are these the exposed incoming?” he squeaks, clearly excited. “Bring them this way … quickly,” he continues before anyone can even answer him. Spinning around, he scurries back the way he came, and we hurry to keep up.

  Two others join us as we pass what looks like a nurse’s station, and our growing group heads for the end of the hall. An imposing sign over the only door reads ‘quarantine’ and there’s a list of precautions under it. Turning back to us, our new leader pulls nervously at his mask and appears to look at us for the first time.

  “I’m Dr. Paul. I’ll be in charge of your care. Have all of you been exposed to the Nephi II virus? How long has it been and what are your symptoms?”

  “I’m the only one exposed,” Chris gasps, holding his hand up weakly. “They’re immune.”

  “Immune? Impossible!
You will all remain in quarantine until symptom-free for forty-eight hours.” Opening the door behind him, he turns to step through it but I grab his arm to stop him. Reeling from me as if I bit him, he stumbles backward over the doorframe and nearly falls.

  “Whoa!” I say, holding my hands up in a show of peace. “I’m not going to hurt you, Doc. I just need to know when we’re going to see Senator Zane Adel and our families. We’ve got several more friends still out there!”

  Embarrassed now, the doctor straightens his jacket and picks up his dropped clipboard. “I’m sure the senator will be here as soon as he’s able. There’s a lot going on. I don’t know anything about your parents or friends. Not my department.” He tries again to direct us into the quarantine room.

  “No, you don’t understand!” I insist. “My friend here was infected over eighteen hours ago. He’s got to get a dose of the antiviral meds immediately!”

  Shaking his head, more apologetic now than confrontational, the doctor looks from me to Chris. “I’m sorry, child, but there isn’t anything the senator can do to help your friend. We haven’t heard from the lab since the EMP. We don’t have the antiviral meds.”

  EIGHT

  I’m relieved to have the respirator off, but it’s still hard to breathe. Not because of something covering my face, but from the anxiety that’s squeezing at me, and threatening to drive me crazy. The four walls of this white, sterile room are pushing in, and the fact that there’s no clock makes it seem like the minutes are rapidly slipping away.

  In reality, I know it’s probably been less than half-an-hour, but Chris doesn’t have much time left. He’s lying on one of the two cots set up in the small room, and Seth is reclining on the other one. How he can act so relaxed is beyond me, and it’s really starting to tick me off.