by Jack Hunt
“You have a fear of heights?” Chester asked, chuckling to himself.
“No, that would imply that thing can take off.”
“Oh, you just offended Caroline.”
“Who?”
He pointed to the McDonnell Douglas 500D helicopter and then burst into song, singing Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline.”
“Oh we are going to die,” Abe mumbled under his breath.
“At least we’ll go out in style, hey Abe,” Miles said laughing as he patted him on the back and caught up with Chester. “Looks like the one from Magnum P.I.”
“That’s because it is.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I got it in an auction. Cost me a good chunk of change but it was worth it. Isn’t she a beauty?”
“He’s shitting you,” Hal said.
Chester laughed as he donned a pair of headphones and handed a pair to Miles who would ride up front with him. Abe and Hal squeezed into the back and once everyone was belted in, Abe leaned forward. “Aren’t you supposed to do like a once-over? You know, check to make sure no parts are falling off?”
“I already did.”
“When?”
“1987. Man, that was a good year.”
Abe’s jaw dropped as Chester burst out laughing and fired up the beauty. The whoosh of the rotors sent vibrations throughout the cockpit. Abe’s eyes widened ever so slightly. The engine rumbled as the bird lifted into the air, making them feel almost weightless until the engine started coughing a little. Chester made some adjustments and then moved the cyclic causing it to bank to the northeast. “Here we go!”
“Oh shit,” Abe said before muttering a prayer.
“You might want to stay clear of Gerlach and keep a wide berth until we’re sure there are no military craft circling overhead,” Miles said through his mic.
“You just leave the piloting to me, sit back and enjoy the ride.”
“Kind of hard when the world’s gone to shit.”
“Trust me, kid, it already took a nosedive years ago. This is the fun part.” He cackled as if none of it was affecting him. Was he on meds? Drunk? Now he was beginning to understand why Abe was scared. They wouldn’t let someone who’d been drinking behind the wheel let alone fly a helicopter. It probably didn’t help that a sandstorm looked like it was on the horizon, a billowing cloud of dust and sand was rolling across the black desert, making it look as thick as porridge down below.
“I hope this clears up or we won’t see shit,” Miles said.
Roughly fifteen to sixteen miles northeast on State Route 34 was Black Rock City — the name given to the temporary camp that was erected every year for nine days and dismantled after a towering effigy of a man was set ablaze. At any other time of the year there was nothing on the playa, at least nothing but sand, grit and dust covering an ancient lakebed where Burning Man was hosted. As they gazed down at Route 34 they could clearly see the extent of the desperation of those who’d attempted to leave after the infestation of insects. Many of the art cars were off the road, as if someone had swerved and simply abandoned them. Others had crashed into each other. Bodies littered the road and hard shoulder for miles. It looked like mass genocide.
“She could be down there,” Hal said peering through high-powered binoculars.
Miles wondered if finding Bailee alive was really what he hoped for or whether this was just his way of coming to terms with the inevitable, like parents of a missing child needing closure.
It didn’t take them long to reach Black Rock City.
The entire city was shaped like a giant wheel that had eight different segments and an open-ended space on one end. Center Camp was at the heart of it, representing a clock. Its shape was referred to as the “wheel of time” with 60 units, each one encased in 12 larger units spanning out half a mile across the desert. Circumferential streets ran the length of the city, each one named according to the planets that orbit the sun. From above it looked like an arc with spokes of a wheel, each one separating the design. A lot of thought had gone into the madness. Burners, musicians, speakers, acrobats and dancers performed 24 hours a day for nine days, a plethora of arts, lights and expression.
From above Miles looked over the clam-shaped domes partially hidden by the dust storm that had picked up. Far below he could see what were known as mutant vehicles, and colorful art cars. The community dedicated to art, self-expression and self-reliance now looked more like Jonestown, a horrifying display of dead bodies, and thousands upon thousands of sick people.
Sixteen - Accusations
Jenna didn’t want to believe it. They’d never kept secrets from one another. Miles would have told her had he got involved in the creation of a pathogen. While his role with the Insect Allies program had levels of secrecy, he had always been transparent about his involvement, the research and what DARPA wanted from him.
That’s why she was a mixture of nerves and disbelief as Colonel Tomlin explained that a video message sent by Donnie Marco to Miles prior to the FBI raiding his home had given them enough evidence to link Miles to the outbreak.
According to him, Donnie had been under the eye of the FBI since last year when the CDC had to shut down the level 4 lab at Fort Detrick. He wouldn’t go into specifics or even show the video to her, his only concern was to find Miles.
“He went with a group over to a home on the west side to collect guns.”
“Guns?”
“To protect us.”
“You sure about that?”
“No, I’m just making this shit up.” She eyed both the colonel and the CDC rep. “Listen, I know you think my husband was behind this outbreak but I know Miles and I know he is not a terrorist or capable of biowarfare espionage.”
“We didn’t say he was, Mrs. Jones.”
“You are implying it. He loves this country. Hell, he works for DARPA.”
“We are very much aware of that. But maybe what you aren’t aware of is the gravity of this outbreak. We are not talking about a small incident that is confined to a hospital, or one or two people, but a major outbreak in nine states, as well as China, and now four European countries. The sooner we find him, the sooner we can find a solution.”
“Surely Fort Detrick has the research that Donnie was working on, spore samples, and so on. Enough that someone else can create a vaccine.”
The colonel looked at Dr. Graham from the CDC as if trying to determine how much of this fiasco he should share with her.
“Measures have been taken. For now, we just need to find your husband. Do you have the address?”
“Then what? What are you going to do with this town, with us?”
“The address.”
“I don’t know it. It was somewhere on the west side, however, there is someone here who might have it.”
“A name?”
“First you give me answers.”
He cocked his head. “Mrs. Jones, this is not a time for games. Give me the name.”
Jenna bit down on her lower lip. “Vanessa Swan.”
The colonel made a gesture to a soldier in the doorway and he exited leaving them in uncomfortable silence.
“My husband is a good man. Whatever ideas you have about his involvement in this, I want to reassure you, he would never place the lives of Americans in danger. His work with insects is to help humanity not destroy it.”
The two of them said nothing and just stared at her.
No matter how she tried to get them to open up they refused. She would have had better luck speaking to a wall. Five, maybe ten minutes passed before Vanessa was ushered into the tent. She glanced at Jenna and frowned.
“Mrs. Jones here says you know the address of where her husband went to.”
Vanessa looked at her with a frown. “Wayne Crawford’s home. I mean, his mother’s. Yes.”
“Crawford. The address?”
Vanessa reeled it off without hesitation while the colonel jotted it down on a piece of paper and then tore it off and gave it to a soldier. T
he soldier took it and exited.
“What is this all about?” Vanessa asked.
Tomlin frowned. “Who are you?”
“A teacher at the local school.”
“Well, I’m sure Mrs. Jones here will bring you up to speed.”
And like that they were escorted out and taken back to the pens. Outside it was pandemonium. More trucks were unloading people, and the sound of gunfire was intensifying. In the shuffle to get them back to the pen, they had placed Vanessa in with Jenna, even though they’d originally taken her in to be medically checked. Jenna soon came to find out that they had taken bloodwork, checked her temperature and cleared her as not a danger — all of which made it clear that the military knew far more than they were telling. “Why do they want Miles?”
“Because they think he knows more about this and can help.”
“But he said he had no idea.”
Jenna looked at the influx of people arriving on trucks as Vanessa continued to pepper her with questions, each one getting closer to making accusations. “If he’s behind this…”
Jenna had enough and turned and pushed her up against a fence. “He’s not. And if I were you, I wouldn’t flap my gums.”
A look of astonishment spread across her face. “Let. Me. Go.” Jenna snapped out of it and released her grip.
Vanessa scowled at her. “I wouldn’t say anything. I just want to know what’s happening. Did they tell you what they are planning to do with us?”
“No.”
Vanessa turned away and looked out. “This is insane. How can they do this?”
“You’re asking that after all that’s happened with Ebola, SARS and the coronavirus?”
Silence stretched between them.
“Is this a weapon?” Vanessa asked turning to Jenna.
“How would I know?”
“You’re a doctor.”
“For kids. I don’t know the first thing about biowarfare.”
Vanessa snorted and nodded slowly. “You know that’s what they said those previous outbreaks were — offensive biological warfare weapons that either escaped a lab or were intentionally released.”
Jenna sighed. “Conspiracy theories.”
“Really?” Vanessa snorted. “Of course you would say that as you’re a doctor who believes in the big pharmaceutical companies. Oh they really do have our best interests at heart. Does the word dual-use mean anything to you?”
Jenna glanced up at her. “They have to study biological weapons, Vanessa, to learn how to recognize and protect civilians and troops.”
“But those same technologies can be misused for hostile purposes.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“I’m saying that the same facilities that are intended for research can be used for military or terrorist bioweapon development and production. The same equipment and agents could be misused, and the same scientific knowledge could be misapplied under the pretense of helping humanity but to give a country an edge.” She paused.
Jenna snorted. “So you believe they would release this intentionally upon their own country?”
“Have you ever considered that an offensive agent could benefit the country that might have the only treatment or vaccine?”
Jenna shook her head as she scooped up a handful of dust and sand and released it from her hand. “So you think the USA or China is trying to corner the market?”
“The arms race, the biological warfare race, artificial intelligence race. Countries have been at this a long time, Jenna. I would think you would know about this with Miles’ involvement in that program for DARPA.”
Jenna frowned.
“What? A teacher in a small town isn’t interested in what is happening around the world? Miles told me about it. The global population is increasing every year, and while there is currently enough food to feed everyone, 815 million people went hungry in 2016 and by 2050 when the population is supposed to be upwards of ten billion, food supplies will be under far greater strain.”
Jenna smiled. “So you think they release these viruses every few years to lower the population? Is that it?”
“I’m not saying that.”
“Well that’s where you seem to be heading.”
“I’m saying with an increased global population come many challenges and one of the greatest is food supply. The alternative is to lower the population. But again, that’s just a theory.”
“Yeah a wild one. Look at how many people have died from Ebola, SARS and the coronavirus. It’s a lot but it barely scratches the surface of the global population. I think there are far easier and stealthier ways to decrease the population if they wanted to do so. I think you are reaching, Vanessa, you are confused, and I get it. But trust me, eventually this will pass like all of the others.”
“No, you don’t understand. Have you considered how something like this affects the global economy?”
“Oh, Vanessa, drop it.”
“Yeah that’s what they want us to do. Drop it. Not ask too many questions. Not think about the bigger picture. It’s just a virus outbreak. It will all blow over. Look over here at this, while this is happening over here. Distraction, misdirection. Do you know the SARS pandemic caused around $40 billion in global economic losses with aviation stocks and luxury goods taking a hit?”
“Why does it matter?”
“It doesn’t if you don’t fly and shop, but you know who really profits from something like this?”
Jenna groaned.
“Health companies. Their shares rise. And out of those companies, do you know who profits the most?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“Biotech companies. And what does that mean? It means that advances in biotechnology permit the development of new and advanced biological warfare agents. So we go full circle.”
Jenna clapped her hands. “Oh you’ve got this all figured out, haven’t you? Bravo. Decreasing the global population, increasing biotech stock, cornering the market on a vaccine, and justifying the continuation of research into biowarfare. You sound a lot like the angry parents that come into my office and blame me for being in cahoots with the big pharmaceutical companies. ‘You get a kickback.’ ‘You’re pushing drugs that kill us all off.’ For a teacher in a small school, you sure know a lot about biological weapons. Maybe the colonel should be investigating you instead of my husband.”
“So they are investigating him.”
She’d walked right into that.
Jenna shook her finger. “Remember what I said.”
Vanessa raised her hands in a way as to mock her and pretend she was scared. “Oh please, you don’t scare me. This scares me,” she said looking out. “And it should scare you too. I knew one of these days they wouldn’t be able to get one of these viruses under control and now look at us.”
Jenna got up and stretched her back. “Don’t worry. They’ll find Miles. He’ll explain that he had nothing to do with this and we’ll be shipped out of here.” She wrapped her fingers around the chain-link fence and peered through at twelve soldiers coming out of the colonel’s tent, they gave a salute and double-timed it over to two nearby Blackhawks.
She watched them hop inside and the helicopters rise into the air above them, sending dust and a cloud of sand their way. Colonel Tomlin cast a glance toward the pens and eyed Jenna before disappearing back into his tent.
“If they wanted to ship us out, they would have done it by now,” Vanessa said.
Jenna registered what she said. Why weren’t they filling up trucks and leading them away? Surely they would want to get them far away from Black Rock City. Even the number of military personnel was far less than what she expected but then again if the outbreak was occurring all over the United States, and had reached to Europe and beyond, the military’s resources would be strained.
She took a few steps back.
They were out in the open, the only protection from the infected was a few flimsy fences.
&
nbsp; Seventeen - Loss
It was a mosh pit of hell far below. They’d been circling for some time observing the scene. It was hard to tell who was infected and who wasn’t, and even harder to determine which out of the eighty thousand in attendance was Bailee.
Abe looked at Miles. Neither one wanted to tell Hal that she was probably infected and they needed to head back. Fortunately Chester yelled over the whooshing of blades. “Fuel is running low; we need to go now or we won’t make it back.”
“Just a few more minutes,” Hal said.
“No can do, compadre.”
“Please.”
Abe reached and touched his arm. “Hal.”
He pulled it away. “Just five more minutes. I know she’s down there.”
Miles decided to cut through the crap. “Hal, trying to find her down there is like trying to find a needle in a haystack. It’s impossible. There are over eighty thousand people. You can’t expect to pinpoint her in that.”
“Take me down.”
“No. We need to go back,” Miles replied.
“I’m not leaving without my daughter.”
“You’re not thinking straight.”
“If it was your son, would you leave?” he asked looking him directly in the eye.
“No, but how can you expect to find her?”
“I’m not searching for her; I’m searching for the damn art car they went in.” He glanced at him. “Do you honestly think I would be stupid enough to bring you all up here if I didn’t think I could recognize it? The damn thing is huge. It belongs to her boyfriend. It looks like a dragon on wheels. If it was nighttime I could probably spot it because it has this unique lighting system and it spits balls of fire.”
“Crazy assholes,” Chester said.
“Creative,” Miles added. “What color is it?”
“Gold. It has a dragon’s head on the front of it.”
“We need to go back.”
“Chester, just circle around one more time,” Miles said.
He grumbled and glanced at the fuel gauge. “Five more minutes and that’s it,” he said.
“Can you take this down lower?” Hal asked. “Go over into that unit.” He pointed and the helicopter banked left. They swooped down and each of them eyed the huge art cars that were spread all over a sea of sand. All of them looked alternative or kooky, some resembling animals while others were cool and hip. One was of a huge ballerina, another looked like a boombox.
