Exodus

by Brian P. White

  “Wait a minute,” Doctor Heather said as she backed away, hitting a metal shelf with her back. “I’m not going to help you kill anyone.”

  Cody shook his head and took the doctor’s arms. “I don’t want to kill anybody, but unless there are some nonlethal means available, we have to—”

  Something beeped, startling everyone. No one made a sound. Another beep drew Cody’s attention to his leg. He opened a little pocket on his calf and removed the new smartphone Nick had given him, which beeped again. He clicked a couple of buttons. “Cody here.”

  “Oh, thank God,” Didi’s blessed voice said through the speaker.

  Rachelle’s heart leapt. “Didi?” she shouted with joy and dis-belief until Isaac clapped his hand over her mouth and shushed her.

  Cody laughed with relief. “You’re alive?”

  “No, I’m dead, remember?”

  Cody shook his head with a tongue-in-cheek grin. Isaac rolled his eyes while Rachelle swatted his hand away. Doctor Heather’s eyes widened, probably too confused to speak.

  “Your battery pack should’ve run out,” Cody muttered. “How are you still conscious?”

  “We have a couple of newfound friends to thank for it. Cynthia’s a closet techie, by the way. Where are you?”

  Rachelle suddenly wanted to clean out her ears, because she couldn’t believe what she just heard. Cynthia? Helping? With brainpower?

  Cody looked puzzled, too, then shook himself out of it. “First sub-level. You?”

  “I’m on the surface. I was trying to find an elevator and ended up in a lab.”

  Cody’s eyes widened. “You’re in the mountain?”

  “How else do you think we’re talking?” she quipped, which left him smirking. “Not that I’m not working on it. Come on up and help me figure out how to bust our people out.”

  “You can’t,” Doctor Heather suddenly said. “The elevators are monitored.”

  “Who goes there?”

  Cody smirked at the doctor and handed her the phone.

  She took it like she was afraid of breaking it. “Excuse me, hello. Didi, is it?”

  “Yeah, me Didi. Who you?”

  Rachelle chuckled silently. Isaac shook his head, but he couldn’t hide his grin.

  The doctor grinned uneasily. “I’m Doctor Heather Sitton. I’m a neuroscientist with the Executive Health Commission, Pandemic Division.”

  The line went silent for a long moment, which seemed to throw Heather for a loop. Rachelle, too. Isaac just looked impatient.

  “Hello?” The doctor actually shook the phone.

  “I’m here, Doc,” Didi replied stiffly. It didn’t take long for Rachelle to realize why, especially when she noticed the awkward look in Cody’s eyes at his ex-fiancée.

  “Can you tell me where you are exactly?”

  “The sign outside said Main Surface Laboratory.”

  “Good,” she said with a nod, then frowned. “Are you able to pass for human?”

  “I’m short a rack, but I still stack.”

  Rachelle cupped her mouth, but a snort escaped. Cody shook his head and silently chuckled.

  “Good,” Heather said, looking confused and embarrassed. “If you can find a HAZ-MAT suit in that section—I’m sorry, that’s a hazardous—”

  “I know what HAZ-MAT means, Doc,” Didi’s voice interrupted, which made Heather recoil and Cody turn away to laugh again. “Look, I’ve got the elevators covered, so why don’t you just come up here? There’s some things we need to discuss in your lab anyway.”

  “Covered? How?” The doctor shook her head. “You know what? Never mind. We’ll meet you there as soon as we can,” she said, then handed the cell phone back to Cody.

  “There’s more,” he told Didi. “I’ll tell you when we’re en route. See you soon.”

  Heather shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m aiding a corpse with the word Death in its name.”

  “Relax, Doc,” Isaac said with a slap on Heather’s shoulder. “She’s good dead people.”

  Heather removed her glasses, massaged the bridge of her nose, and sighed heavily. “What am I doing?” she asked herself in a frustrated whisper.

  Cody touched the doctor’s arm. “Hey, I’ll vouch for Didi. She’s worked hard to put the living ahead of her own urges.”

  Heather’s eyes grew wide. “You’re kidding.”

  “I know it’s hard to believe, but—”

  “Hard? Cody, if you had any idea—”

  “Let’s go, already,” Rachelle insisted as she grabbed Cody and yanked his arm.

  He faced his ex and shrugged. “You heard her, but I want to make a few stops along the way.”

  Doctor Heather nodded numbly as she put her glasses back on and walked out of the closet with Cody. Rachelle eagerly followed with Isaac, bursting at the seams to see her mentor again.

  *****

  “Negative contact, Watch,” Major Washington reported as the mechanized squad circled the airfield perimeter one more time on the main screen. “The A.T.V.s have been deserted. Their foot trail leads back to the entrance. They may have doubled back on us. Over.”

  Gil cursed before seizing the watch officer’s headset. “They probably snuck in right before the door closed.”

  “Negative, sir. Rear gunner confirmed no contacts near the door, even after it closed. Over.”

  He nearly embarrassed the major over the radio, but he kept his cool. “Make sure, then meet me in the briefing room.”

  “WILCO, sir. Out here.”

  He tossed the headset at the desk and went back to his office. He was halfway there when he heard Major Dam curse under his breath. He turned to find the man frantically hitting buttons before rushing away to the control station.

  “What now?” Gil grumbled as he went back to the desk.

  “We have a breach, sir,” Major Dam replied, still stabbing buttons all over his console. “Someone’s opening the surface door … and locking all the others up there.”

  “How?” None of the screens showed anything out of the ordinary, except for the feed of those A.T.V.s still riding in circles outside. Feed loop! “Get I.T. on it now.”

  The major picked up a phone and dialed.

  Gil grabbed the headset. “Major, C.J.C.S., be advised: we’re under potential attack. What’s your status?”

  “Status: green, sir. E.T.A.: two min— Wait one, sir.”

  Gil growled. “I don’t want to wait, Major. I want—”

  “Sir, there’s a Ford F-150 entering the door, which is closing right now. Request entry to pursue unknown hostiles. Over.”

  “Get that door back open,” Gil shouted at the control station.

  “We can’t control it, sir,” Major Dam snapped in a panic. “Someone else is—”

  Suddenly, the lights went out. Screens blanked. Yellow lights spun all around the giant room, flashing into everyone’s eyes.

  Gil cursed under his breath, then loudly asked anyone, “What the hell is going on?”

  *****

  Lavon awoke someone banging on her door, her head groggy with only two hours of sleep. Welcome back to the Corps, she thought, trying not to resent it along with the tiny plywood room with a bunk bed. She would’ve requested convalescent leave to recover from her ordeal, but she worried about eating herself into a coma with any time off. She couldn’t let that happen.

  She threw on her new roommate’s physical training shirt and shorts while the woman snoozed away, eager to get her own from central issue within the next day or so … and maybe her own room. She answered the door, then stood in utter surprise. “Sergeant?”

  Staff Sergeant Montgomery smiled at her in a set of black and gold Army P.T.s. “I’m sorry to bother you, Corporal, but we’ve got a situation.”

  She flinched. “Are we under attack?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” he replied uneasily, then gave her the most horrific briefing she had ever received. The nightmare scenario made her ill, which got worse when h
e came to the point. “We’re going to stop it, hopefully without hurting anybody.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know yet. We’re linking up with Didi upstairs to figure it out, but I doubt it’ll be as simple as requesting an audience.”

  Her stomach churned. “You know you’re talking about treason; sabotage at best.”

  “I’m talking about saving our country, not overthrowing its government. All we want to do is stop the launch so we can try to reason with him, or else we’re no better.”

  “What if he doesn’t listen?”

  He hesitated, which didn’t bode well for either of them. “If he won’t listen, then we’re stuck down here. He’s still my Commander-in-Chief, but we have to try. Will you help us?”

  Her loyalty had never been tested so powerfully. She now had so much to lose, but it was all thanks to this brother-in-arms. Still, the decision was already made, come what may. “I can’t.”

  “Are you crazy?” that guy Isaac snapped as he shoved his face into the doorway. “You want to let the brother nuke the world?”

  Despite her fear and remorse, she held her ground. “No, but—”

  “Then get yo’ ass out here and help us stop this shit!”

  Knowing she wasn’t going to get through to the thug, she faced the soldier … and smiled. “Ayla’s here.”

  Both men’s eyes grew wide, but the soldier smiled. “Really? That’s great.”

  Lavon shrugged. “Not so much for her current guardians, but we’re working it out.”

  “What happened to your boyfriend?” Rachelle asked somewhere out there, which made Lavon chuckle as well as wonder who else was listening.

  “Ralph tried to incite a mutiny. He was banished with his co-conspirators.”

  “I’m happy for you,” the Army medic said with a hint of regret, “but she’s not going to have much of a world left to live in unless we can stop the launch.”

  Lavon apologetically shook her head, holding her smile as best she could. “I’m sorry, Sergeant. I can’t blow it again.”

  The man regarded her for a long moment, even after the thug disgustedly walked away, revealing a disappointed Rachelle that followed. It broke her heart to turn away good people, but she had too much to lose.

  Finally, the Staff Sergeant asked, “Does that mean you’re going to turn us in?”

  Now that one was easy. “Technically, I owe you one.”

  The Army medic smiled, gave her a salute, and hobbled away on a cane.

  Lavon shut the door and went back to bed, stripping her roommate’s P.T.s off of her before climbing under the covers. She knew that whatever was about to happen would have her out of her rack soon, but she was going to get a little more sleep before it happened. She owed herself—and Staff Sergeant Montgomery—that much.

  CHAPTER 31

  FACING DEATH

  Craig woke to find yellow lights flashing in his face. Voices grumbled outside his cell, snapping at each other. He rose from his cot and walked to the glass. “What’s going on?”

  An armed troop appeared and pointed at Craig. “Get back in your bunk,” he ordered before he disappeared down the hall.

  Craig sighed and did as he was told. Not a lot else he could—

  A brawl raged somewhere out of sight. He returned to the glass to get a peek, but he couldn’t see anything, and the tussle ended as quickly as it began. “Hello?”

  The door buzzed and swung open. He peeked around the side to find all the other doors open as well—and Isaac and Rachelle sweeping through the hall to rouse everyone. He smiled.

  *****

  The strobes abruptly woke Peter just before his senior protection agent reached his bedside. Five other agents stood all around the spacious Lincoln Bedroom recreation he had to call home with pistols drawn. “What’s going on?” he asked the senior agent.

  “The command center reports loss of power and function,” the tall agent replied. “We’ll keep you safe here until this passes.”

  “Screw that,” Peter said as he hopped out of bed, throwing on his pants and sweater on the way to his private elevator against his agent’s objections, hoping his private generator still worked. The button opened the elevator door and he stepped in, making room for his senior agent.

  Returning to the Command Center, he found everyone running around like chickens with their heads cut off, shouting and working feverishly to restore the satellite and CCTV feeds of whatever the hell was going on. All the U.S. military’s high-end technology had just been defeated by attackers unknown, his beleaguered country now at its most vulnerable. He prayed he was wrong about who might be responsible.

  “Status,” his beleaguered General shouted.

  A flushed Major Dam kept stabbing like he was plugging up a dam about to break. “Nothing’s working, sir. I can’t even raise anybody upstairs.”

  “They’re all locked in anyway,” Gil groused. “Go spin up the mayor. Get the cops on every tunnel and elevator. They are not to let any hostile parties down here alive.”

  The major nodded curtly and rushed out of the Command Center.

  “Who’s doing this, Gil?” Peter asked. Please don’t let it be—

  “Sir, we’ve got unknown entities up there,” the General said as he marched up to him. “The only thing anyone saw before they seized our network was a … black Ford truck.” The proverbial light bulb lit up in his eyes. “The TERAN.”

  Peter hung his head and sighed hard, realizing that Death Doll left him with only one course of action. “Get the launch keys.”

  Gil stiffened so much, he was surprised the man hadn’t suddenly toppled over. “Sir, the convoy’s still out there.”

  “You heard me,” Peter snapped as he stared the man down.

  Gil struggled to speak for a moment, but he closed his quivering mouth, curtly nodded, and walked out of the room.

  At least Peter had one play left. He just wished he didn’t have to do it.

  *****

  Heather’s heart pounded fiercely while leading her ex-lover and his band of seditionists to her main laboratory, still reeling from the fact that this was all happening. She moved as fast as her pumps would allow, wishing she hadn’t adopted the habit of wearing them for work. Who was she trying to impress with her appearance—especially now?

  She rounded a big black truck parked outside the lab and found two men—multiracial twins—lounging in its bed until they saw her. One of them looked at her dubiously, the other lustfully.

  “Is everyone okay?” Cody asked the twins as he limped past her with Rachelle and their muscular friend Isaac.

  “Well, one of us is dead,” came from inside the lab, which made Heather pause.

  A leather-clad brunette in black leather and a yellow shirt stepped into the tunnel and smiled at Cody, a sword dangling from her belt and no less than four pistols strapped to her shapely legs. The woman smiled as brightly as any number of lively women despite the fact that, if Heather guessed correctly, this one was anything but. The small cameo gracing her neck, with half its Victorian baby face etched into a skull, affirmed it.

  The Death Doll, Sergeant Hennessey had called her—it!

  “Get in here, you,” the dead woman said to Cody with its arms open.

  He hobbled ahead and hugged it tightly, which stung Heather as much as it terrified her.

  “How did you get in here?” he asked.

  The corpse released Cody and nodded downward. “With that rapist’s help.”

  Heather found a young Army officer passed out on the floor just outside the door. Jason Oneil. Yes, rapist sounded accurate enough, given how unsafe his frequent advances had made her feel. She knew giving all the military officers unlimited access to the labs was a bad idea.

  “You must be Heather,” the dead woman said with a soft grin on its long yet sultry face as it approached her with a gloved hand extended. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Didi.”

  Heather scrutinized the dead woman stopping
before her; a fully-functional TERAN who didn’t endanger the living around it. Its gray complexion had been concealed with cosmetics, completely indistinguishable from a living person … except for not blinking, and its total stillness as it waited to shake hands with her was utterly void of a pulse or a sensate nervous system. It just smiled at her affably. The scientist in her wanted to study every aspect of its functions—especially how it could suppress its base instincts—but the living, breathing woman in her was terrified beyond comprehension.

  Before she realized it, she was screaming at the top of her lungs.

  “Okay, then,” the dead woman said, looking amused as it walked past her and hugged each of the new arrivals she had helped escape. Not even a tempted pause amongst any of them!

  “Don’t think I’m not happy to see you,” a braided blonde said to the dead woman, her weak smile accented by her puffy eyes, “but our kids are still down there under guard. How are we going to get them back?”

  “We were under guard,” a mildly plump African American gentleman said. “Look at us now.”

  “I’m not done with this place myself,” an older Native American said.

  The Death Doll nodded at him. “I’m sure we can get you in front of the right man to speak to about it, Bob.”

  “What’d you go and do now?” Cody asked the corpse teasingly.

  “Nick’s got their mainframe, so he’s locked them out. They can’t even see us,” the dead woman explained, hiking its thumb at the nearest camera. “Plus, he’s got control of every tunnel door and elevator. Nobody’s coming in here without our say-so.”

  “Don’t get too cocky,” he said with a humorous grin. “Remember what you did to the last guy who said something like that.”

  The reanimate thrust its tongue at him under crossed eyes, then told him, “Point is, El Presidente won’t be able to launch a spitball, much less a nuclear missile.”

  “That’s not true,” Heather automatically blurted out, which seemed to rob the corpse of its mirth. “The nuclear launch platform has always been independent, so as to avoid loss by hostile forces or natural disaster. You could shut this whole place down and he could still launch.”