He gritted his teeth and a faraway look crossed his face. “You okay?”
“It is so cold… I can feel it running through my veins. Weird… I feel the same, but it will take time to work. You have that one for Isis and the third we can give to the CDC so they can produce more for the rest of the infected.”
Kirk placed the empty syringe back into the container, took the other one, and stopped dead in his tracks. He remembered the power failure and the other coolers full of more of the deadly virus, and looked down at the two cylinders in his hands.
“We have a big problem. I was so focused on saving Isis, I didn’t think of the impact of Taras’s little love nest.” Big B looked at him and lowered his eyebrows.
“What are you talking about?”
Kirk turned and sighed. “I found this box in his command center in the building where he lived. There are three walk-in coolers, more like freezers, and two of them held container after container of what looked like more of the virus. The labels were from other countries, and when the power went out, the coolers shut down. It’s only a matter of time before they thaw out.”
“So…”
“Mark said that the virus activates at room temperature. If it stays frozen, the virus is harmless, but if that cooler thaws out, it will take out New York and quite possibly the rest of the country.”
CHAPTER 15
THE AIR TURNED FROM a city smell of hot asphalt and urine to a deep cleansing scent of pine trees and fresh spring water. Kreios stood next to me. Without a sound, he pulled me to the ground behind a clump of big green ferns.
“What—?”
Kreios shushed me with his hand over my mouth. I looked at him and he whispered in a low hushed voice. “I must not be seen. You have to do this on your own. In a few moments, I will come around the corner with a book, and you must convince me to give it to you. When you have it, bring it back to me, and I will show you how to protect it.”
I nodded even though what he just said made no sense. He would come around the corner? I turned to ask a question, but Kreios was gone.
Great. Just what I needed. I was alone in the woods, in some other world and possibly some other time. I pulled a fern away from my eyes and looked out through tall, pine trees and down into the long valley below.
The night air smelled sweet and the full moon hung low in the sky, casting an almost day-like light across the woods in long streams through the trees. Shadows moved in ways I’d not seen since I was a kid hunting with my dad. It reminded me of simpler times, and in some ways, a past that was just an illusion.
I could hear the soft babble of a stream in the distance, and to my surprise, something else moved to my left. It was so slight that I almost mistook it for the natural sounds of the forest. I saw a creature move not ten feet from me, and I held my breath. I saw Kreios, or maybe his twin, hunch down behind some thick bushes. His back was to me. He was wearing a long robe, and he held something in his hands.
A book.
The sword that hung at his waist stopped me from standing up and calling out to him. It wasn’t the same Kreios I came here with, or if it was, he did a quick clothes change.
Beyond Kreios-number-two, I could hear another sound. This one was loud and sounded like two people not trained in keeping quiet in the woods; they tromped through underbrush and were talking loudly. They moved, hacking at bushes and grunting in some other language. The men never came into view, but turned in another direction and soon faded.
Kreios stood motionless, and as soon as the danger was gone, he moved and started up the small hill toward me. I didn’t want to startle him, so I stood up and held my hands out, palms up, in a submissive gesture.
“Hello,” I said in a calm voice.
Kreios stopped and his sword was out in an amazing show of speed. He stood still, so I took a step toward him and repeated my greeting. He gave me a curious look and looked me up and down, most likely noticing my clothes. I held out my hands wider and took another step toward him.
“My name is Mark—Mark Appleton. I need to speak with you.” Kreios did not seem to fear me, and when he spoke, my heart sank. It was in some other language, one I did not understand.
In my training, I was programmed with many languages, but nothing he said seemed to ring a bell. It had a faint Hebrew tone to it, so I decided to try some Hebrew. I repeated my introduction in Hebrew and his eyes grew large. He responded in the same tongue, but his language was more formal then I was used to.
“I am Kreios in your human tongue. My true name is not one any human can speak, for it is not of this world.” His voice was the same, and the feeling that I knew him in the future made this whole interaction seem unreal.
“I am not here to fight. I just want to talk.” I let my hands fall to my sides and stepped closer as he replaced his sword in its sheath.
“I know that you do not know me, that I am dressed in strange clothing. But I am not here to harm you—in fact, I need your help.”
Kreios eyed me and looked over his shoulder. After hearing nothing, I must have satisfied his curiosity, and he pointed to a large rock formation just to my right. “We can talk over there, I am being pursued by the Brotherhood, and it would do me no good to have to fight them with you here. I do not see a sword, and without defense, you will only slow me down.”
I nodded, and we walked toward the rock formation. He stayed just out of reach behind me. I moved ahead and found a small hidden area on the backside. I sat down on the ground and waited.
Kreios took a seat across from me and looked at me as if I were the strangest thing he had ever seen. I started things off. I explained where I was from, and he listened without so much as a raised eyebrow. “I know this may be hard to believe, but I promise you that I am telling you the truth.” I left out the part about how his future self was the one who helped me get here.
Kreios breathed in a sigh and said. “I believe you. As I said, I am not of this world, and time is a thin and unstable thing. You say you are here to talk to me, that I can help you and your world in some way.”
“Yes, we have a problem, and I am part of the problem… I mean, I am most of the problem. I am told that I have a book, one that, in the wrong hands, could ruin my life and somehow—my world.”
Kreios looked down at the book in his hands and then back up at me. “You said your name was Mark? Is that your birth name, or was it something different?”
“I think it was always Mark, but I was adopted… I have kind of a mixed up past.”
Kreios touched the skin of the book’s cover, and with gentle hands, he opened it and stared at the page. “You and I are linked in some way.” He paused. “This conversation is not just a part of your past, but your future as well.”
I didn’t know what he was saying. How did he know what my past was or how this could change the future? “I don’t understand.”
“I know. Look at the page, and never read anything more than the page I am going to show you.” Kreios handed me the book, and I looked down at the page. It was made of some sort of thin skin or paper. I wondered if paper was even invented at this time, but somehow I thought that this book could be anything, no matter what time it was in.
My eyes took in the letters written in a scrawling handwriting. The words and the handwriting looked familiar. Almost as if—it was my own. The words I read made me draw in a breath.
“And Mark said, “I don’t understand.”
Kreios said. “I know. Look at the page, and never read anything more than the page I am going to show you.” Kreios handed the book to Mark, and he looked down at the page…
The words stopped, and I stared at the page trying to comprehend what I was seeing. “What is going on?”
Mark said. “What is going on?”
The words appeared as I spoke them, the ink dying the page. The realization hit me and my head swam. I was holding my book. The book of life that no human could ever see, the one that only someone not of this world co
uld have access to, and here I was holding it in my lap.
***
Mooch left his little hideout, took his newly acquired cab, and drove into the city on back roads. He managed to get past the Army that now was set up on every major street and road leading into the city.
The president had ordered everyone to stay inside, and he enacted martial law. The country had no power, and what the United States didn’t know was that it was not just the country, but the world.
Mooch was pleased with himself, and the passenger in his mind stood up and told him how wonderful he was. Why had he gone on so long not doing what he wanted? Why had he tried to do the right thing when doing bad felt so good?
Mooch was wearing a camo uniform, and he gave himself the rank of major, so if anyone came across him, he could move in and out of the city without much interference. He parked the cab in the back of the hospital, walked around to the front, flashed identification, and the CDC guy at the door let him in after he suited up.
The generators at the hospital were now running, but that wouldn’t last. No, Mooch had big plans for this little place of refuge. He wanted to see someone, an old friend’s girlfriend. “Isis, you are going to suffer for your choice in men. I am sorry to tell you, but Kirk Weston is just plain bad luck. Bad luck all around.”
The main floor of the hospital was a mass of chaos. Nurses and doctors were running in and out of rooms, trying to keep everyone calm, and helping the sick. It was the same on all the floors throughout the building.
After 9/11, people were easy to scare. Terrorists and the thought of them striking again, mixed with the attack Taras Karjanski unleashed, made the people highly sensitive. The blackout and the stock market crash did exactly what they were intended to do: strike fear into the minds of the people. If the people lived in fear, they could be controlled.
No outside communication, no contact with the rest of the world, no internet, or Google, no information to reveal what was going on—just the voices in everyone’s minds, just the fears rising up. Once they were let out to run free, they would destroy and kill in order to protect themselves.
Mooch took the stairs, not fearing the virus. He did not think he would contract the disease, or if he did, he believed he would be immune. The power he felt running through his veins was intoxicating. He felt unstoppable, he felt like what he thought God must feel like.
As he climbed, he noticed that he wasn’t even breathing hard. He was not only strong in mind, but in body as well. Once he found the correct floor, he walked down the hall and looked into each room until he found the room he wanted. He smiled and almost laughed aloud. He felt so good, and the things he had to look forward to made him want to giggle like a little schoolgirl.
CHAPTER 16
GRAY FEATHERS FLUFFED IN a slight breeze as a fat pigeon sat looking out over Main Street in downtown Los Angles. It twisted its head so fast that it appeared impossible to stay attached to the pigeon. It looked like it would snap off. However, the plump pigeon didn’t seem to mind the quick movement.
Parked below, a yellow cab stood at the curb, and a military truck moved down the middle of the street at just under four miles per hour. This was the first stage, fear. People stayed inside, and the power would come back on for ten minutes every day, but the backup systems soon overloaded, and the city shut off once again.
Gas credits did not go out because the only ones that could buy the expensive fuel were government officials and military. Tonight, the pigeon and his friends would watch as the next stage took over.
Anger and panic.
Looters would run the streets, and the military force would not be able to stave off this mob like they did before. The small pockets of rioters were the misfits who looked for an opportunity to steal and take advantage of any situation. This new mob would be the stockbrokers and soccer moms who were driven by the fear that the food would be gone before the country could recover from the crises.
Taking flight, the pigeon dropped to the street and found some garbage to snack on. A muttering sound behind it made the bird turn its head in a lightning quick twist. A man stood looking at the bird with crazy, bloodshot eyes. He held onto a pistol. His white shirt was torn and dirty, and his black tie hung loose around his neck.
The pigeon took three steps back, and the man looked past the bird and out to the street. A second military vehicle moved down the street at a slow pace, looking up and down the side streets.
The man cursed, raised his gun, and fired. The sound startled the bird, and he took flight with his little heart pounding in his chest. A rapid succession of gunfire sounded, and a scream.
The pigeon looked back and saw the man with the gun lying on his back, blood pooling around his motionless body. A soldier stepped from the vehicle and checked the man on the ground. He shook his head, got back into the vehicle, and continued down the street.
***
“Maybe we can call the FBI or the CDC and tell them about the coolers.” Kirk said as he flipped open his cell. He put the phone to his ear, his eyes flashed irritation, and he turned the phone over and smacked it two times.
“It’s dead…”
Big B stood up and grunted in pain. “Battery?”
“No, got no signal. Says there’s no service.”
Big B lowered his heavy eyebrows and picked up a phone that sat a few feet away. It was on a land-line. He smiled. “Cell towers must be out, but we still got land-lines.” He dialed 911 but got a busy signal.
“Great, busy.”
“We can let the boys upstairs know on our way out. We need to get them this antidote anyway. Hopefully, they can reproduce it in time,” Kirk said.
Kirk shoved one of the canisters into his pocket and held the other one in his hand. Big B looked at the bulge in his pocket and shook his head. “They will see that a mile away. Give it here, I can put it in mine.”
Kirk took it out and handed it to Big B. B took the canister and put in into a large pocket in his cargo pants. It looked like nothing was there unless they patted them down. Kirk figured they would be able to sneak them out.
Kirk looked at his watch. “How long do you think we have until that freezer cools down to room temp.?”
“Depends on how cold it was to start with. But I figure, as long as the door stays closed, we got 24 hours, maybe longer. But best not to push our luck.” Big B glanced at Kirk. “Why do you ask?”
Kirk sighed. “I have this feeling that, if we take the antidote to the CDC, we will be tied up for hours, maybe longer, and Isis is real sick. I want to take this to her and help her first. Thought if we have time, well…”
Big B opened the door leading into the hallway and turned back to stare at Kirk. He patted the lump in his pocket and nodded. “You might be right; they will want a full report on how we found it and all the details. Could take days to get free of them. Okay, we take this to Isis, and once we know that she will make it, we go to the CDC. In the meantime, we need to get some sort of message to them that there are two freezers in the Grove, and that they contain more of the virus.”
Kirk nodded with relief. Isis filled his mind with every waking thought. All he could think about was her and how she could be dead right now. They could still be too late.
They took the elevator up to the parking garage. Kirk was glad the backup generators were still working. They made sure to turn off all the lights and lock down the center before they left, just in case someone found the underground facility.
Yellow crime tape and red warning tape crisscrossed the doors and were strung across just about every post and pillar on the outside of the building. Most of the CDC vans and police cars were gone. All the people who were still alive must have been transported to a hospital or a different location. The building was sealed off, and a guard was placed at every entrance.
Kirk followed Big B down the ramp. They looked over the side and saw the rent-a-cops walking a pattern from one side of the building to the other. Kirk shuddered at th
e thought of what his future might be. He could very well end up doing this same kind of dead-end job, reliving the past, and regretting all his bad decisions.
“Look at that!” Big B said in a hushed whisper. Kirk followed his pointing finger and gasped. The streets of New York were deserted. The sun was beginning to set, and a warm glow flooded the streets and cast an orange hue on all the buildings and parked cars. The hum that was the city was all but silent. Kirk never really took notice of the way the city seemed to breathe, to be a living thing, until now. It felt dead.
“No way…” Kirk couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was like something out of a science fiction, end-of-all-days movie. Cars were parked in the middle of the street, hot dog vendor carts were abandoned, and the only cars on the road were military vehicles. In the distance, a siren blared, and thick, black smoke billowed up a few streets over.
“How long were we down there?” Big B rubbed his eyes as if clearing them would change what they were looking at.
“Not that long, not long enough to turn the world into this.”
Roadblocks were set up, and the empty buildings and sidewalks gave Kirk a sinking feeling. This couldn’t be happening… just a day ago, the city was busy beehive of activity. People walked in packed groups and talked on phones and drank fancy coffee.
Big B and Kirk were frozen in place, not comprehending—or not wanting to understand what was happening.
A loud speaker on a portable pole squawked a message played from a recording.
“For your own safety, stay indoors. There is a strict curfew. No one is to be outdoors after 8 p.m. Do not go out after dark, and do not try to use electricity. This curfew is for your own safety.”
A movement caught Kirk’s attention, and he turned to look up the street. Big B did the same, and as the sun hid behind the massive buildings that made New York what it was, a glow bounced and bobbed, moving, muttering.
IN YOUR DREAMS (Mark Appleton #3) Page 10
