Darkness on a Pale Blue Stone

by D. T. Peterson

  She had been distracted long enough. Gresson, who had already pulled his gun from his coat, now aimed it at Samantha and her companions. Lash quickly followed with her shotgun and Jake with his pistol.

  Fear crossed Samantha's face. "Alright, let's calm down. If you leave now, no one needs to get hurt."

  "Again, we need what we came here for," Gresson said. "Leaving without it is not an option."

  "We can't just let anyone walk in here and take what they want," one of the men beside Samantha said.

  "I know that!" she yelled back.

  Gresson slowly stepped over to Michael.

  "Stop!" Samantha demanded.

  Gresson whispered to Michael, "Find the project. Now." Gresson motioned toward the line of shelves and tables in the room holding various equipment and boxes. Michael's eyes began to scan.

  "Tell me, Samantha. How do you intend to hold this place?" Gresson asked.

  "The same way we're stopping you from moving. These men are trained security from Gimbal."

  "And you think they are good enough to kill us all before we kill you?"

  "Who do you think you are..." Her voice trailed off when recognition set in. She had not seen Gresson's face very clearly in the dark room, but she now recognized his voice. "Who... who are you?"

  "My name is Gresson. And I assure you that, as Michael attempted to explain, you have no idea who you are dealing with."

  "Oh, bullshit. President Gresson is dead." Uncertainty hung in her voice.

  At this moment, Michael found Project Blackout. He recognized its container and while it was not labeled, he had no doubt about what was inside. It was black, the size of a small suitcase and sat only a few feet away. "Gresson," he said quietly, trying to let him know.

  Gresson heard Michael and turned to Lash and Jake. He lifted his glow-stick to his face and said, "What's the name of the project we're here for?" The others were initially confused by his rhetorical question, but Gresson got the message across when he covered up half of his glow-stick with his hand.

  "Hey, what are you..." Samantha said.

  "Michael..." Gresson said. Simultaneously, he and Lash put out their glow-stick and lighter, darkening their half of the room. Michael grabbed Project Blackout. They all ran under the cover of darkness as Samantha and the security guards opened fire, but they had no clear targets.

  "Get them!" Samantha screamed as Gresson and the others ran through the loading area, heading for the exit. The broken door to the outside let in the only light. The four of them struggled to navigate through the dark room as bullets whizzed past and ricocheted off the floor, containers, and conveyor belt.

  Gresson was the first to reach the door. He swung it completely open and dove outside. Bullets passed through the open doorway. Michael, Jake, and Lash scrambled through behind Gresson. They all ran around the building, back to the line of trees where the rest of the group was watching in surprise.

  "Run!" Michael yelled at his family, as he himself struggled to run and hold on to Project Blackout at the same time. Those waiting obeyed, though it was only until bullets flew past that they understood the reason.

  They ran onto the street and began to head toward downtown Charleston, passing several abandoned cars and piles of debris. Gresson looked back. He knew they had no chance of out-running their pursuers.

  "Get behind the cars!" he yelled. Everyone immediately did. He spun around behind the cover of a '68 Chevy and returned fire, quickly followed by Adam, Jake, and Lash. They managed to kill one of the men and injure another before the remaining three disappeared around a building.

  Jake slunk to the ground, back against a car, holding his side. He swore, thinking his wound had opened, but a moment of contemplation revealed that it was only an ache from running.

  "Are you okay?" Lash asked, sitting next to him.

  "I'll live. I'm pissed, though. Shooting at me is one thing, but making me run? Screw that."

  Lash sighed and shook her head.

  "Alright, let's move," Gresson ordered. "But, be careful."

  They headed farther down the road, eyes scanning their surroundings. After a few minutes, the road became more populated. The group's heart rates began to return to normal levels. They felt safer in numbers, but continued cautiously. The others on the road looked at them suspiciously, but the group continued unimpeded, soon passing the Italian restaurant that was to be their rendezvous in case of emergency.

  "So, what are we going to do now? Should we go back and get our bikes and packs?" Sean asked.

  "No. We are not going anywhere near there again. If we find others, we will take them. But for now, we walk," Gresson replied.

  "And now we're headed to Florida?" Sean asked.

  "Correct," Gresson answered.

  "To Salva-something?" Jake asked.

  "New Salvador," Michael corrected.

  "Right. So what's this place like?" Jake asked. "This is your base of operations, right?"

  "It is more than that. It is our home. And by now, I would dare say it is the safest place on the planet," Gresson replied.

  "Sounds good to me, then," Jake said, nodding his head.

  They walked a little ways, when Alice turned to Michael. "Did you ever find out why those people were guarding the building?"

  He sighed, stopped walking, and slowly turned to her. He hung his head in shame and uncertainty as to whether he wanted to tell her who had been there.

  "What's wrong?" she asked.

  "It... it was Sam."

  "Wha... what?" she said with a spark of anger.

  Michael took a deep breath and said, "She was there. The other guys with her were Gimbal security. They were planning to hold the building to control future access to technology."

  "Why? Most of it's worthless now anyway."

  "I don't know. She was... different. The last few weeks must have changed her."

  "Actually, I'd say taking whatever she wanted and shooting anybody in her way sounds just like her," Alice scoffed.

  "So, you and this Samantha chick have a past?" Jake asked. Michael and Alice gave him identical stern looks. "Ah... never mind."

  They arrived at an apartment complex a few minutes later. There was a small line outside, waiting to get in. Several police officers were assigning groups to different empty rooms, attempting to keep everything orderly.

  Gresson said "This should..."

  "Hey, bitch," Samantha said calmly, appearing nearby. Before anyone could react, she fired her gun at Alice's chest, only a few feet away. Screams arose and everyone nearby began to run in all directions. Gresson pulled out his gun, but with the crowd running in front of him, he had no clear shot at Samantha. She began to run around the building. Adam chased her at full speed, gun raised. Samantha looked back before she crossed the corner. Adam took the opportunity and fired.

  The shot hit the side of Samantha's face. She let out a piercing scream, but managed to hold herself up against the wall. She stumbled away down a sidewalk, helped by one of her companions. Before Adam could give chase, he found a gun barrel an inch from his face.

  The next second seemed like an eternity for Adam. The man's finger began to pull back on the trigger as his eyes met Adam's. Adam felt a shiver of fear pass through his entire nervous system. At the same time, he felt the initial stimuli of loosing his balance and his body started to fall backwards. Before the man could finish his trigger pull, his wrist disappeared. His gun, with fingers still attached, spun wildly into the air.

  The man howled, but immediately lunged at Adam, knocking them both to the ground. Adam felt the man's left hand wrap around his throat while the bloody stump of the man's right arm pounded against Adam's chest. Adam realized his gun was still in his hand and he pointed it up from the ground and fired.

  The bullet tore through the man's armpit and left through his muscular shoulder. Enough of the muscles were still intact that his chokehold remained. Adam fired again. This time it tore through the man's stomach. Adam fired a
gain. And again. And again. Bullets pierced the man's pelvis, chest, and stomach until Adam's gun was empty. Yet still the pressure remained against his throat.

  Adam struggled futilely until he heard a loud crack. Lash had used the butt of her shotgun against the man's head, ending his life. The body slumped beside Adam, as he gasped for breath and reached for his sore neck. He found himself covered in blood, but none of it was his. He looked up at Lash, who was yelling something, but he couldn't comprehend it.

  "Adam! Adam! Are you alright?" Lash asked desperately. Adam finally came to and she helped him up. Adam looked around. Samantha was gone. Then he remembered why he had chased her in the first place.

  "Mom!" Adam cried, turning around to see his mother lying on the ground in a pool of her own blood.

  Chapter 24

  Charleston - August 17, 2012

  They carried Alice to a nearby hospital, following the directions of one of the locals. It's glass entrance had shattered and shards lay all across the floor of the lobby. No one payed much attention to their footing, however. They needed to operate on Alice soon, as she had already lapsed into unconsciousness. Even then, the chance of recovery was marginal at best. The bullet had lodged near her heart and she was losing plenty of blood. It seeped from under Michael's hand, as he attempted to put pressure on the wound, carrying her with Sean and Gresson's aid. A trail of red was left on the glass shards covering the floor.

  "Hey, what's going on?" a tall man in stained scrubs asked as the group crossed the lobby. He was among a few other medical personnel who were still caring for sick and wounded in the hospital. There were still patients left over from before the blackout and the many more had come after.

  "Are you a doctor?" Gresson asked.

  "Yeah. Oh my god, you're..." he replied in surprise.

  "Then shut up and help us," Gresson demanded. The thunder of Gresson's voice gave the doctor a brief pause, but he quickly composed himself and led the group to a nearby candle-lit room. Michael, Sean, and Gresson laid Alice on the bed.

  "Gunshot?" the doctor asked, examining Alice with a bright, white glow-stick.

  "Yes. Near point blank range," Gresson replied.

  "Is she going to be alright?" Michael asked, tears streaming down his face.

  "She's still alive, so normally I'd say she's got a good chance. But, hell. The world isn't exactly normal anymore, and neither is this hospital. I can hardly see anything..." The doctor turned and called into the hallway for a nurse, who came running soon after.

  "You have to help..." Michael said.

  "Look, I need everyone to get out," the doctor ordered.

  "No, I..." Michael protested.

  "Lash, get them out," Gresson said. Lash complied, grabbing Michael's arm and forcing everyone out. Gresson turned back to the doctor and said, "I have medical training. I'll help."

  "Fine." The doctor paused and examined Gresson for a moment, then said, "Besides, you seem to have some experience with beating death, Mr. President."

  Everyone else walked out of the room to a line of benches and sat down. Michael was shaking back and forth, anxious and scared. His son sat silent nearby, having not yet come to terms with seeing his mother shot and his subsequent near-death experience. Adam stared at the floor, replaying it all in his head.

  Lash rested her head against the wall and looked over at Jake, who held Project Blackout on his lap. The container looked like a black, metal suitcase with a matching black handle on top. Jake was playing with it, moving the handle back and forth, but his mind was elsewhere. Sean sat next to him, eyeing the container with suspicion. Was something this small worth all it took to get it? he thought. Lash could sense what he was feeling, but decided it was not the time to talk about it.

  "Would anyone like to join me in prayer?" Lucas asked. Michael nodded, but Jake shook his head in disgust.

  "Really? You..." Jake started to say.

  "Shut up, Jake!" Michael snapped, his voice cracking as he said the last word. He looked at Jake with wide, furious eyes. Jake obliged and looked down in awkward silence.

  Lucas and Michael kneeled on the linoleum floor and started to plead for Alice's life. Michael offered two sentences of prayer before he began to weep. Lucas placed a hand of Michael's shoulder and took over, asking for God's protection and begging him to guide the doctor's hands.

  The somber moment was interrupted as the nurse ran from the room and went farther down the hall. She returned minutes later, holding vials, syringes, and several other medical pieces. Once she had gone back into the room, the hallway was quiet. For the next several hours, all that could be heard were Lucas' religious pleas and Michael's distraught sobs.

  It was past midnight when Gresson slowly walked from the room. He was no longer wearing his coat and several speckles of blood had dried on his clothes. Michael jumped up and asked, "How is she?"

  "Still unconscious, but stable, we think," Gresson said.

  "There was a lot of slow patching up to do once we retrieved the bullet, so she lost a lot of blood," the doctor said as he exited the room. "And there's no way to do a transfusion. But if she comes to, she might be alright."

  "Oh, thank God," Michael said.

  "Thank the doctor, not your god," Gresson growled as he passed Michael and took a seat on one of the benches. He was entirely aware that Alice would have had no chance of recovery if not for the doctor's surgical skill, accompanied by his own. Gresson was still surprised she had pulled through, however.

  "Thank you," Michael said to the doctor, feeling an incredible debt to this stranger. "What's your name?"

  "Just call me Greg. Alice will need to sit tight for a while. She's going to need a lot of rest. I honestly won't know how well our little surgery went until tomorrow, if even then," the doctor said.

  "Will she be conscious soon?" Adam asked.

  "Hopefully she will wake up tomorrow morning, but to be honest, there's no way to know. We gave her a sedative, so it's hard to say how much that is responsible for her current unconsciousness. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other patients to attend to."

  "Shouldn't you get some sleep?" Lash asked, seeing the doctor's obvious exhaustion.

  "Not if I can still walk," Greg replied. He left the group and went to another area of the hospital.

  "Can we..." Michael started to ask Gresson, motioning at the room. Gresson nodded.

  Inside lay Alice on the hospital bed. Her eyes were closed and a white sheet covered her chest. It rose and fell rhythmically with her faint breathing. Michael stood next to her and kissed her forehead. Sean picked up a chair from the side of the room and gave it to him. Michael sat down next to his wife and his two children stood beside the bed. Marie held her mother's hand. Everyone else quietly exited the room and left the family in peace.

  "I know this sounds terrible, but what do we do now?" Lash asked.

  "We wait," Gresson answered, though he clearly wasn't happy about it. "This trip is rather meaningless unless Michael is with us. He's the only one who knows Project Blackout well enough to repurpose it for our needs. Speaking of which..." Gresson held out his hand toward Jake, who was still holding the container. Jake handed it over. Gresson sat down and carefully opened the container.

  Inside lay Project Blackout. It consisted of a grey sphere with several glass fixtures protruding from it. Gresson opened one of the container's smaller compartments and found more glass pieces, tubes, and a small charred box.

  "Must be the power source," he commented, holding it up for closer inspection.

  "So, it doesn't work now?" Jake asked cautiously. He was still afraid the trip had been for nothing.

  "I never planned for it to work on its own. I just need the pieces and the understanding of how it works, the latter of which Michael has. If Gimbal had not started to upgrade this, I would have taken the original in New York and my work would have already been done." Gresson said.

  "Aw, but hasn't this trip been so much fun?" Jake sarcastically replie
d.

  Gresson pretended not to hear him. He closed the container and put it on the floor next to him.

  "Well, I don't know about you all, but I'm in need of some sleep," Sean said.

  "Agreed," Lash said.

  "Can we just grab some of the hospital beds?" Jake asked.

  "Let's see if we can find a waiting room or lounge with couches. We don't need to use up their beds," Gresson said.

  They walked back toward the entrance of the hospital and soon found a waiting room with plenty of benches. They pushed them together and made a few makeshift beds. Lucas returned to the Cases to tell them where the rest of them would be staying. Within an hour, everyone except the Cases had fallen asleep.

  Three long days later, Alice had still not woken from what was now considered a coma. The Cases, refusing to give up hope, had stayed in her room each day, waiting for any signs of consciousness. Everyone else had used their time to help the others who were also staying in the hospital. Many of the patients were suffering from accidents caused from the blackout or from the violence that occurred within the days after. Of those who had been in the hospital originally, only a few remained. Anyone who's treatment required the use of now-defunct equipment had either left or had died, including many who had been on life support before the blackout. The destroyed machines still remained in the hospital rooms, silently reminding everyone of the old world.

  As much as Gresson understood Michael's situation, he was becoming anxious about continuing to New Salvador. Time was running out. During the group's lunch, which they all shared in Alice's room, Gresson approached Michael.

  "You should know that we have no idea how long this coma might last," he said.

  "Don't say that," Michael replied.

  "I have to. We need to get to New Salvador as soon as possible. As much as I hate to ask..."

  "Then don't. I'm not leaving my wife. That's not an option. You're welcome to take the Project and go, but I can't."

  "Michael, we..."

  "Gresson, I know you think you're doing the right thing. I get it. It's important. But I'm not leaving Alice. It's just not up for debate."