Exodus

by Brian P. White

  “Good. I mean, great,” the doctor said as she paced around Isaac’s tiny wooden room, a feat only someone so skinny could accomplish in a space no bigger than his cell in Cook County Jail. “Sorry. It’s just … I still can’t believe he’s alive. Not that I didn’t think him capable, but … wow. He’s alive.”

  “Doc,” Rachelle said insistently. “Cody?”

  The doctor shook her head. “Right. If a major took him, he’d be in the military hospital.”

  “So, take us there,” Isaac insisted as he shot up to his feet.

  Doctor Sitton paused, glancing between him and Rachelle like a cornered mouse. “I don’t have access to the military wing. I can’t just—” She started pacing and talking to herself again. “But, then, my office is on that level, so I can just say you’re willing test subjects. Why didn’t I think of this? I’m so overworked. I just need to …”

  Isaac shook his head while listening to the doctor ramble about something so simple. “This was the chick Cody was going to marry?” he whispered to Rachelle.

  The girl smirked back at him as if to say, “Really!”

  “Uh, Doc,” Isaac said, which cut the self-pitying rant short as he drew her soft green eyes onto him. “Mind if we go now so we can, you know, save the world and all?”

  Heather gawked at him for a moment before shaking her head out of her funk. “Right. Let’s go.” Then she left without them.

  Isaac and Rachelle shrugged at each other and followed her.

  CHAPTER 29

  CREEPS

  Peter Ramsey yawned as he headed past the Watch Desk en route into his office, hoping for a good nap before he got word that all the military’s assets made it into the mountain. He had a feeling he would spend most of the night staring at the painted ceiling in his room below his office. He didn’t want to do this, and he knew history would always remember him for it, but it was for the good of the country—for the world—which he swore to safely repopulate.

  Major Leonard Dam stood crisply at attention. “Mister President—”

  Peter waved the Watch Desk officer down. “At ease, Major. I’m just passing through.”

  The slim major nodded and sat down when he console beeped. “New contacts.”

  “Where?” asked General Gil Price as he approached, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs looking just as weary as Peter.

  Major Dam tapped a few buttons. “On the airfield, sir. Two of them.”

  The largest of the various screens gracing the opposite wall pulled up a green satellite rendering of the airfield, where two small blocks moved in odd patterns around the tarmac.

  “What the hell is that?” the general asked. “Zoom in.”

  The Watch Officer hacked at his keyboard and a few other buttons.

  The feed on the main screen closed in slowly, owing for the need to adjust to each magnification level. Peter always hated this part, but he understood the need to keep the feed fresh instead of forcing its zoom and waiting longer for the image to clear. When it finally closed in on the airfield, he saw what looked like … “Are those A.T.V.s?”

  “Affirmative, sir,” the major replied. “I’m sending M.P.s to intercept.”

  “For what?” the general asked gruffly. “It’s just two guys riding around in circles out there.”

  “And, respectfully, sir, we should know why,” the major said with professional restraint.

  The stern general glared at his subordinate, the veins on his bare temple throbbing as hard as his light blue eyes burned.

  Peter stifled a laugh. “Do what you think is best, Major. I’m going to try to get some shut-eye. Good night, Gil.”

  “Mister President,” the general said with a curt nod.

  Peter walked away from the Watch Desk with the faint joy of a little comic relief. He would need more tomorrow.

  *****

  Aaron was still shivering from that brief ride on the airfield, but at least he was finally inside. The giant tunnel wasn’t much warmer, but he wasn’t fighting subzero wind resistance. How they had gotten inside boggled his mind, but he still didn’t understand why he and Alan had to drive around in circles before Nick hacked the door and cameras to let them in undetected. Now, they hid in the tiny catwalk hallway, looking for anyone coming to get him.

  Brilliant plan, he thought bitterly.

  Engines roared through the tunnel, but the grinding of metal and granite rumbled louder as the tunnel doors re-opened. His nerves spiked as he silently watched a military convoy speed right past him; seven vehicles full of robed troops, who were just going to turn right back around when they found the airfield empty. And, to his great surprise, the door closed on them.

  Alan grinned, though, and got an elbow to the chest for it.

  Aaron looked across the way at Didi and Cynthia. The dead chick nodded at him and disappeared into the hall behind her with her unconscious prisoner slung over her shoulder, followed by that psychotic young fire-crotch.

  “Let’s go,” Alan said on his way through their hallway, then the stairs down to meet the others on the ground. Aaron hesitantly followed.

  On the ground, they met the emerging Death Doll and the psycho. “Now what?”

  “Where to, Nick?” Didi asked. After a few seconds of listening to whatever she was told in her new built-in headset, she headed down the tunnel. “This way.”

  “I still don’t get why we didn’t just sneak in,” Aaron said.

  “Because most of the Army should be asleep right now,” Didi replied while glancing around. “Better to have the ones on duty out there looking for us than in here. Now, keep your eyes open. We’re looking for an elevator.”

  It suddenly dawned on Aaron that Nick may have had them riding around out there to create a feed loop like the cops did at the end of the movie Speed. Noice!

  *****

  Cody labored to walk the dim hallways against his new doctor’s orders, grunting the entire time on the medical cane he appropriated. He couldn’t afford to take it easy, no matter what he was told. Soldiers were required to stay fit regardless of their job. He would have to set the example for junior troops again, and he couldn’t do that if he was out of shape … even if he was taking a desk job in an underground base. He wasn’t the rare skill anymore—not with all the doctors, nurses, and E.M.T.s brought down here from Fort Carson and Colorado Springs—so he had to prove himself once again. He now had to be Staff Sergeant Montgomery, an aid station noncommissioned officer in charge of three lower enlisted medics … just like the good old days.

  Another brick in the wall, as the iconic Brit band used to sing.

  Still, he had to be impressed. NORAD really accomplished something great in keeping military units functional down here, even if there was little more to do than train while the M.P.s and green beanies handled the patrols. Fitting over half a million people under the mountain, building them such marvelous facilities, was phenomenal.

  Didi would’ve been impressed, too.

  He missed her so much, particularly the moment he realized he had forgotten to reconstruct her battery pack. Between her N.S.U.’s inevitable burnout and being in the Gamesman’s hands, he feared he had already lost her forever. The painkillers dulled most of his aching side but couldn’t brighten his spirits. All he could do now was trust in the Lord and do his duty. His people—and his President—depended on it.

  He turned a corner and collided with someone, which aggravated his side. Concerned he might’ve popped his stitches—or worse—he carefully worked around it to face whoever wasn’t watching where they were—

  He froze in total shock, unable to speak. Seeing that soft black hair, those lively green eyes graced by those big-as-life glasses, and that cute little freckle on the bridge of her nose. The last seven years had been even kinder to the already unparalleled beauty he once knew.

  She said his name with the same musical voice, which was tinged with surprise.

  “Heather,” he muttered like an idiot.

 
She grabbed his arm and pulled him the way she came. “Come with me.”

  He grunted as he tried to keep up, trying to grasp whether or not this was really happening or if his meds were more powerful than the doctors led on. “Whoa, wait a minute. How are you—”

  “No time,” she quietly insisted as she kept tugging. “We can’t talk here.”

  He wanted to protest, but her warning reminded him of possible closed-circuit monitoring. He shut up and let her guide him wherever she was going, no matter how much it hurt.

  After an elevator ride down and a few turns, they slowed their pace through the stretch Major Washington had called the Arboretum, casually crossing over several colorful paths on the ground. “Is it safe to talk yet?”

  She shushed him as took him into a small hallway and through what looked like a closet door, inside of which he was immediately assaulted by a vigorous hug that crushed his wounded ribs. Regardless, he laughed with joy at the girl’s affection amid the, “Ow.”

  Rachelle backed up ruefully. “Sorry.”

  He patted her arm. “I’m glad to see you, too. Isaac,” he nodded to the big man stepping into view while catching his breath. “What’s going on?”

  The defenders stared nervously at Heather, who approached anxiously. “Cody,” she said softly, “first of all, it’s good to see you again.”

  He nodded in agreement.

  “Second, to answer the question you tried to ask me, I was sort of drafted by the President when I learned how the plague worked.”

  “Do you know where it came from?” he asked, then instantly regretted it. He did not need her going off on another one of her infamous tangents.

  She shook her head. “None of us do. When the plague reached Sioux Falls, we were sent a few cases for study. Now, I love the brain, but let me tell you that digging into a subject that’s still moving is not fun.”

  Cody nodded his understanding.

  “During my tests, I discovered that the plague hyper-stimulated the thalamus, which stopped airflow to the brain that resulted in stroke, but continued stimulating the surrounding—”

  “Get on with it,” Rachelle cut in with a shot to Heather’s arm.

  Heather frowned at Rachelle while rubbing her arm. “I’ve been working on a cure.”

  Cody flinched. “You can’t cure death.”

  “No, but we’d hoped to prevent further cases.”

  “A vaccine,” he realized, to which she nodded. “How far along are you now?”

  “No closer, I’m afraid, but my initial trials accidentally created a weapon against reanimates; a sort of poison.”

  Cody stared in awe. “A zombie poison? How does it work?”

  She shot Rachelle a wary glance before answering. “Simply put, it dissolves necrotic tissue. The military has been working on a delivery system for it ever since, to wipe out the rest of them en masse. Yesterday, they put it into an electromagnetic pulse device.”

  Cody’s eyes widened. “That’s what went off over the mountain?”

  “Yes.”

  Cody’s stomach about hit the floor. “Didi was out there. Is there an antidote?”

  Heather shook her head. “We never thought to make one.”

  His gut fell further and his head started spinning, a truly unenviable sensation. He took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. He braced himself on the nearest shelf. “How long does she have?”

  Heather’s soft lips tightened and her brows slightly furrowed like they did whenever she was about to give bad news. “Tomorrow night at the latest.”

  “She thinks it didn’t work, though,” Rachelle said.

  Hope teased the back of his brain, but that quickly died. “The Gamesman has her.”

  “We know,” Rachelle said sadly. “Any ideas?”

  His chest tightened, forcing him to breathe deeper. “None we can do in time. I didn’t switch out her battery pack. She’s probably already offline.”

  Rachelle froze, her eyes brimming with the same disappointment.

  Heather touched his arm. “I’m sorry about your friend, but that’s not the worst part.”

  He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear anything worse than losing his best friend. “Go on.”

  “The President believes the test failed, and with your TERAN friend here—”

  “TERAN?” Isaac blurted.

  “—he’s moving forward with his original plan to eliminate the infected.”

  “What plan is that?” Cody asked nervously.

  The ladies traded glances with each other and Isaac, which made him even more nervous. He had never seen his ex-fiancée look more scared. Her lip quivered in an unfamiliar way when she delivered the worst news of his life. “He’s going to nuke the entire surface.”

  CHAPTER 30

  UNSPEAKABLE

  Each footstep following the Death Doll echoed down the biggest tunnel Alan had ever seen. He was impressed by the way she had infiltrated the place for a second time, but he wished she had scouted the level in between planting Nick’s bug and getting caught earlier. All she had right now was an unconscious troop on her shoulder and Nick in her ear—in a sense literally—using a schematic to guide her to an elevator.

  “Anyone else feel like Sarah in the beginning of Labyrinth?” Aaron asked, which made Alan’s eyes roll for the millionth time. His fixation on young girls!

  “Anyone else feel like beating up Aaron?” Cynthia posed, and Alan was pretty sure she wasn’t kidding. He wanted to agree. Then she pointed at a big double door on the left. “There’s the elevator. How do you want to—”

  “Hey, cool, a lab,” the asshole said as he bolted across the tunnel to an opaque glass door marked MAIN SURFACE LABORATORY, which didn’t open. A fucking child, that man.

  “Let’s check it out,” Didi said, which surprised Alan.

  “Don’t we have better things to do?” he reminded her, pointing at the elevator.

  “Shut up,” Cynthia said as she followed the zombie.

  Alan sighed and joined them at the laboratory door.

  Didi grabbed the lieutenant’s hand and placed it against a flat pad beside the door. A tiny green light glowed and the door opened for her. She dropped the guy to the floor like a trash bag and stepped into the dark room, which lit up the instant she entered.

  Alan surveyed the vast lab full of long counters. Computers lined the tables against the walls, whereas the center stretches sported a large quantity of full vials marked EXPLOSIVE, CORROSIVE, or POISON, all just sitting here where a man-child like his brother could waltz in and start playing with them. “Why are we in here?”

  "I’ll tell you when I see something,” Didi said dismissively. None of the others had an answer.

  Aaron picked up one of the explosive vials. “We can use this as a weapon if they come back.”

  “Or you could drink it and put us out of our misery,” Cynthia spat at him.

  “That’s enough,” Didi snapped, which caught all three by surprise. Then she sulked. “Look, I didn’t want to say anything, but … that E.M.P. yesterday? It was loaded with some kind of zombie poison. I’d hoped to find something in here that would tell me more.”

  No one spoke until Cynthia pointed at another room. “Then I think this is what you’re looking for,” she said, then went in.

  Didi followed the kid, as did Alan after he wrested that explosive vial from the asshole’s hand.

  The office looked like a security room, the main desk full of CCTV screens, buttons, indicator lights, and a locked metal cage with guns inside. A door marked EMERGENCY stood between it and two big Plexiglas cells, one of which was full of zombies that started pawing at the walls.

  After the initial shock, he took a closer look at what he thought he had seen incorrectly. Skin hung from bone in drops like melting wax all over each one, obscuring any of the wounds they already had. Their efforts to break free and feed only made their sizzling skin fall off in clumps, leaving naked bone to screech against the glass.


  Alan threw up on the spot. So did Aaron.

  Cynthia glared at the twins like she was any better, but the horror filled that round face with the same disgust that churned Alan’s guts.

  Didi gazed at her kind in sad wonder. No, fear, like she was looking at her future.

  “Were these the ones that were hit at the same time as you?” Alan asked when he could keep from vomiting again.

  “I think so,” she replied faintly without looking away from the dying monsters.

  Alan tore his eyes away from the freak show and examined Didi’s visible skin. “I don’t see anything wrong with you. Maybe you were far enough away.”

  She shook her head again. “Not if it could knock me out.”

  He didn’t know what to say or do for her.

  However, she seemed to when she said into the air, “Nick, do me a favor.”

  *****

  Rachelle didn’t know if it was the ammonia fumes or the situation that made Cody’s face so ashen, but her head swam and she needed fresh air. The zombie plague wiped out most of the world’s seven plus billion inhabitants, the President of the United States was about to finish the job, and Didi was somewhere out there with no idea one of those two things was about to kill her—if she was even still conscious. “What do we do?”

  Cody looked at her like he didn’t have a clue, then at the droopy doctor.

  It all pissed Rachelle off enough to kick the mop bucket into the wall. “This is bullshit. He can’t nuke the world. I mean, who does he think he is?”

  “The President,” Isaac muttered, though not like he was happy about it.

  “How did he even get to be President, anyway?”

  “July 8th, last year, President Simpson died of the plague,” Doctor Heather said sullenly. “We didn’t have a chief justice, so the Vice President had the judge advocate general swear him in.”

  Cody stood upright on his cane, looking more focused. “Heather, the President is about to irradiate the planet for half a century, killing a lot of innocent people. We’ll need help finding our friends and getting into an armory.”