by P. T. Hylton
She approached his desk at the front of his room, where he was once again poring over the speech that they’d written together the previous night.
He looked up at her, his eyes alive with excitement. “Whenever I write something I’m happy with, I always go to bed afraid that it won’t seem as good in the morning.”
Well, at least that confirmed that he actually slept.
He slammed his hand down on the papers in front of him. “These are even better than I thought! We did well, Sarah. Very well. This is going to move the needle. It will help them understand that something big has to be done, and we can’t wait much longer to do it.”
Sarah leaned over and scanned the paper. “I’m still not sure about that opening. You don’t think it’s too bold?”
“If now’s not the time to be bold, when is?”
She couldn’t disagree.
The first ten supporters arrived not long after Sarah. Most were the faithful from Sparrow’s Ridge, which made Sarah a little anxious. Not that she didn’t appreciate every one of them, but she hoped some of Fleming’s supporters in more powerful positions would show up, too. People like Steven. Firefly was on a mission today, so of course, he wouldn’t be in attendance. And Alex. If she was still staying strong. Sarah hadn’t seen her in days, so she wasn’t sure if she was still supporting Resettlement or if getting caught had scared her back to the straight and narrow. Firefly said she hadn’t spoken a word against Resettlement to him, which was a good sign.
Sarah glanced up from the speech text and saw Fleming staring at the door with wide eyes. She followed his gaze and what she saw made her gasp.
General Isaiah Craig stood in the middle of the hall, two dozen police officers at his back.
“You’re a difficult man to find, Fleming,” the general said.
General Craig had discovered Fleming’s location in the usual way—someone had talked.
A badge named Franklin had hauled in a young man for smuggling government supplies in one of the less savory sections of Sparrow’s Ridge. Thinking he might be part of a larger operation, Franklin had sat him down in an interrogation room to find out what he knew. The interrogation had turned up some unexpected information. Franklin had passed the info up the chain until it got to Captain Kurtz, who had immediately called General Craig.
Craig could have let Kurtz and his men handle this bust, but something about it, about the way Fleming and his followers had most likely put the entire ship at risk by starting the fire in Engineering, felt personal. The general would have wanted to be there, even if Councilman Stearns hadn’t asked him to take care of it personally.
When they’d arrived, they’d been surprised to find no guard outside the door. Quite the contrary—the doors had been propped open. Apparently, there was a meeting starting soon.
Then they’d stepped inside and found only a dozen people. He’d exchanged glances with Kurtz. Maybe this movement wasn’t as big as Stearns had made it sound.
On the plus side, the way Fleming went pale when he spotted them was entirely satisfying.
“You’re a hard man to find, Fleming,” the general said.
Fleming quickly regained his composure. He stood up and clapped his hands together. “General Craig! Welcome. Have you come to join the Resettlement movement?”
“I’m afraid not. We need to ask you some questions about a fire.”
Fleming nodded sagely, as if he’d expected nothing less. “Of course. In that case, I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed. I don’t have any information on the matter. Still, if you have questions, ask away.”
General Craig felt himself bristle at this man’s hubris. To Craig, Fleming had the smug air of a guilty man who believed he would not be caught. “Not here. I need you to accompany us back the Hub. We’ll talk at badge headquarters.”
Some of the others in the room started to stand, but Fleming waved them back into their seats. Craig was suddenly glad he’d brought so many badges.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”
The general took a step forward. “That wasn’t a request.”
Fleming shook his head sadly. “So that’s how it is?” He looked behind the general, and his eyes lit up. “Ah, friends, come in! The more the merrier.”
The general glanced over his shoulder, then cursed at what he saw: another dozen Resettlement supports arriving.
Kurtz leaned close. “General, let’s get this over with. They’re still coming.”
Craig nodded his agreement. “Fleming, let’s go.”
Fleming chuckled—actually chuckled! Craig couldn’t believe this man. He could feel the fury building inside, and he knew it would be a struggle to keep it contained.
“You’ll forgive me if I’m a little skeptical of the Council's intentions,” Fleming said. “I’m not going to sit in one of their jails. There’s too great a chance I’ll never get out.”
Kurtz leaned in again. “Maybe this isn’t the time.”
General Craig ignored him. “Badges, place this man under arrest.”
The woman next to Fleming stood up. “You heard Councilman Fleming, General. Get the hell out of here!”
The Resettlement supporters around the room vocally let their agreement be known.
It took Craig a moment to recognize the woman in this setting, but her voice made the connection for him. “And arrest her for theft of government equipment. Lovely to see you, Sarah.”
“General,” Kurtz said, “are you sure—”
The general brushed the man’s hand off his shoulder. “Badges, let’s go.”
The police moved forward. As they did, one of the supporters on their left threw something. The general couldn’t see what it was from his angle—a piece of metal or concrete maybe. Whatever it was, it connected with Kurtz’s head and sent the police captain reeling. He managed to keep his feet, but when he rose back up, there was a nasty two-inch gash above his left eye.
“You son of a bitch!” The words came from a short, stocky badge—Craig didn’t know his name. The badge charged at the man who’d thrown the object, pulled back his fist, and punched him in the jaw.
Then all hell broke loose.
The supporters leaped from their seats and came at the police. The badges turned and met their attackers with equal fury.
The general observed the scene with mounting panic. This was turning into a street fight. He glanced toward the exit and saw it was clogged with Resettlement supporters who were surging forward.
Craig cursed. They wouldn’t be able to retreat even if they wanted to.
Many of the supporters were pushing their way toward Fleming, forming a human shield between him and the police. One of them reached out and shoved General Craig. Before he even realized what he was doing, he threw a punch in return, sending the man staggering backward before he fell on his ass.
Craig stepped back and took a deep breath. As much as he wanted to knock out more of these idiots, he had a job to do. His priority was to protect his badges. Badges didn’t carry guns, but the general did. He looked around and saw that, while they all carried batons, only two were using them. Whether that was because they hadn’t thought to use them or because they didn’t want to seriously hurt these people, he didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. They were outnumbered and the exit was blocked; they were in serious trouble—there was no time for caution.
“Badges!” he yelled. “Batons!”
The police officers heard him, but so did the Resettlement supporters; they attacked with renewed fury.
Franklin, the officer who’d found out about this place, was standing on General Craig’s right, and he drew his baton at the general’s command. He raised the weapon and moved to his left, going to help an officer who was trying to fight off two men. The general saw the man coming from Franklin’s right, knife in hand, but he was too slow to stop it.
The man lunged forward and sank the blade into Franklin’s back.
Franklin shouted in pain and reached a hand t
oward the wound.
Enough. It was time to end this.
General Craig drew his gun, aimed at the man with the knife, and fired.
The contents of the man’s head exited the back of his skull and splattered onto the people behind him, badge and supporter alike. He fell backward, his body suddenly limp.
Craig saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He spun and saw a man rushing toward him.
The general fired again, hitting the charging man in the chest. He fell to the ground with a gasp.
Craig suddenly realized everyone else had stopped fighting. They were all watching him. It was silent but for the ringing the gunfire had left in his ears.
After a moment, Fleming’s voice cut through the silence. “General, how dare you come into my—”
That was as far as he got before General Craig spun toward him and trained his gun on his chest. It wasn’t Craig’s fault this had happened. It was Fleming’s. All of it was Fleming’s fault. If only he’d come quietly, as the general had ordered. If only he’d worked with the Council, instead of against them.
Councilman Stearn’s words echoed in Craig’s mind. “For the survival of our species…”
Craig fired.
But the woman next to Fleming was already moving. Sarah. She was stepping in front of Fleming.
The bullet struck her in the chest.
“No!” Fleming yelled. He dropped to his knees next to the fallen woman.
Nobody moved. Again, the hall was silent.
Sarah was alive. She stared up at the ceiling, wide-eyed, but the sucking sound coming from her chest meant the bullet had hit her lung.
Fleming clutched Sarah in his arms while she wheezed and struggled for air.
General Craig looked at the damage around him, knowing everything in New Haven had just changed.
22
It took the team two hours to reach their landing point. To get there, they had to not only head north across the equator, but also race west, chasing the edge of the morning. The days were short in North America at this time of year, and they needed every moment of sunlight they could get.
Alex stared out the window as they approached, and Owl gave her traditional rundown in their headsets.
“The South Texas Nuclear Project Electric Generating Station. The station went live in 1989 and provided energy to the Houston and San Antonio areas from then until the fall of humanity. The station is located on the Colorado River in Bay City, Texas. Based on my research, there was a popular musical act in the late twentieth century called the Bay City Rollers. This appears to be unrelated to Bay City, Texas, and the South Texas Nuclear Project. Just thought it was interesting.”
“Truly fascinating stuff,” Drew said, his voice thick with sarcasm.
Owl continued. “As we approach, you’ll notice there are two reactors; these were known as South Texas 1 and South Texas 2. You’ll also notice the seven-thousand-acre reservoir next to the reactor. In the early days of nuclear power, when Pressurized Water Reactors were in use, this reservoir was used to cool the reactors.”
Alex glanced around at her teammates. Owl’s informational speech aside, there was less joking in this flight than was usual before a mission. The faces of her teammates were serious. Whether this was because of the importance of their mission or the danger they were about to face, she did not know.
“We’re now approaching the facility, lady and gentlemen. Please stay buckled in until we have finished landing. And remember the words of our beloved captain: ours is not to question why…”
“Just to be prepared to die,” the team said in unison.
“That’s the spirit. See you on the surface.”
They dropped down from the clouds, and Alex got her first look at the facility. It was massive. Two monstrous domed buildings dominated the landscape. These were the reactors, Alex knew. They looked like two enormous bullets sitting on end, their tips jutting into the sky. The reactors were each surrounded by a collection of smaller square buildings. The reservoir Owl had mentioned sat behind the reactors, a still lake surrounded by dense forest on one side and a nuclear power station on the other.
The reservoir reminded Alex of her Resettlement fantasy of a few days earlier. Walking on the surface, carefree, feeling the sun on her skin and grass on her bare feet. Swimming in a lake, though preferably, not one next to a nuclear station. Even though it had only been a few days ago she’d dreamed of all that, it seemed naive to her now. If Resettlement did somehow happen, whether because of the will of the people or because the ship was forced to land, life on the surface would be a constant battle for survival.
The ship landed, and the crew gathered outside. It was a chilly morning, and the wind bit Alex’s face. Another mark in favor of life aboard New Haven, where the temperature was always pleasant.
CB huddled them together and gave them the rundown. “Two reactors here. That means two control panels. We don’t know if either is still in working condition, so we need them both. First order of business is to find them. The good news is the reactors should both be set up the same way. That means we find one, we’ll know where to look in the other building.
“As I said topside, days are short, and time is against us. As much as I hate to do it, we’re gonna need to split up to search most effectively. Firefly and I will take reactor 1. Drew and Alex, you’re on reactor 2.”
Drew smiled at Alex. “You and me, girl.”
“Yeah,” Alex said,” because that went so well last time.”
“You start at the east end of your building and work your way west,” CB said. “We’ll start west and work east. We’ll stay in constant radio contact.”
He glanced toward Owl and Simmons. “You two are on rover duty. Get the vehicle out here and be ready to bring it inside the moment either team finds their reactor’s control panel.” He turned back to Drew and Alex. “We have to work fast, but we also have to work smart. No doubt there are vampires living in here, but they should be sleeping. Don’t do anything to wake them.” He looked pointedly at Drew. “And, for the love of Christ, if you cut yourself, sprint toward the exit. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” Drew said.
“Always be aware of your closest exits in case you get into trouble. I want lots of radio chatter. Check in every five minutes tops. Questions?”
There were none.
“Good. Let’s save humanity.”
Alex and Drew found the entrance on the east side of reactor two. They quickly exchanged a glance as they stood in the entryway. Alex touched her radio and spoke into her whisper mic.
“CB, remember how we were discussing whether we’d have to blow the doors open to get inside? That’s not going to be a problem.”
The doors to the reactor were gone. One metal door lay fifteen feet from the entrance. It was battered with huge dents as if someone with incredible strength had punched it repeatedly. She thought about CB’s story and how the vampires had been able to break through concrete after sundown.
Her earpiece squeaked CB’s response. “Same at reactor one. Vamps ripped the doors right off.”
“Okay, Captain. We’re going in.” She looked at Drew. “Whatever happens, let’s make sure they don’t catch us off guard, okay?”
Drew was already reaching for his shotgun. “No argument there.”
They entered the station, Alex with her pistol drawn and Drew holding his shotgun at the ready.
They walked past what must have once been a security checkpoint. Alex wondered what it would have been like to work here back in the good old pre-vamp days. She was sure those people had plenty of fears. Maybe they’d laid awake at night worrying what would happen if they lost their jobs and weren’t able to feed their families. Maybe they worried about an accident at one of the reactors.
Whatever it was that they worried about, Alex was willing to bet it wasn’t vampires. It was a lesson she often tried to remember: it’s no use worrying because you’re not going to see the thing that gets
you. It’s always a blindside.
Drew elbowed her and pointed to his left with the shotgun. “Check out this shit.”
Alex paused at what she saw. “Lovely. I guess we found their cafeteria.”
It was a pile of animal bones, six feet wide and three feet high. Alex was no expert on animals. There were none aboard New Haven, and what little knowledge she had came from picture books she’d read as a kid and a couple of Earth nature documentaries she’d seen years ago. She had no idea what types of animals these bones had belonged to, but it appeared to be a pretty wide assortment. She spotted tiny skulls the size of her thumb and large skulls adorned with huge racks of pointed antlers.
Looking at the pile, Alex took comfort in the fact that the bones looked old. There weren’t any fresh carcasses among them. Maybe the vampires had moved on from this particular spot. CB said the hordes roved from location to location in an unpredictable manner, after all.
On the other hand, she knew almost nothing about how vampires fed. She knew they drank the blood, but what happened after that? Did they eat the flesh, too? Suck the marrow from the bones? She had no idea. For all she knew, these animals could have been killed yesterday.
“Well,” she said to Drew, “at least there aren’t dirt piles everywhere, like in Buenos Aires. Wherever they’re sleeping, it’s not in this room.”
“Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel entirely better.”
As they moved deeper into the lobby, they saw bullet holes scattered along the walls. Some walls had holes torn in them. Others were marred by long claw marks.
Alex remembered what CB had said. Constant radio contact. She was done going rogue; today she was going to play it straight. She grabbed the radio off her shoulder.
“Hey CB, we’ve got signs of a battle here. Lots of bullet holes and vampire damage to the walls.”
“Yeah, us too. I’m hoping that’ll make our job easier. Maybe the vampires ripped off all the locked doors.”
“We’ve got lots of animal bones in here, too,” Alex said. “All piled up, like this is some kind of feeding area.”
