To islanders intent on curiosity, the defences laid out on the perimeter of the base were more than adequate. The men in the watchtowers could get a good look out at the whole perimeter, and the height of the walls would need ladders to climb and bolt cutters to deal with the razor wire that adorned the top. To the world’s most powerful military however, the defences were a mere inconvenience.
The explosions started first, devastating the wall in one point, slowly creeping sideways as the howitzer shells made light work of the defensive perimeter, particular attention spent on the manned watchtowers. The 20mm Vulcan canon rounds followed, riddling the grounds, decimating anyone unfortunate to be inside the kill zone. Anything that moved within those walls was met with a quick death, the thermal cameras spotting the heat signatures of anything with a pulse. Gaia had hoped to create an impenetrable fortress, and they had failed miserably.
“Alpha team, move up,” the Captain said into his radio. The Spectre would lay down suppression fire while the Delta teams approached in waves. They had chosen one point of ingress, straight along the dirt track that had been created to the base’s only gated entry. That, the Spectre gunship also destroyed, leaving a smoking crater where the imposing barrier had once been. As for the road, it was deliberately peppered by one of the aircraft’s two Vulcan cannons in the hope of activating any mines that had been lain. Nothing erupted on the path, giving the attacking men the hope that all of them would be leaving the island with their legs still attached. Campbell had a particular level of respect for the man who had volunteered to go on point for the assault, each footfall a potential death sentence. All the men reached the ruin of the compound without incident, not a single shot fired against them, the defenders too busy dying to be an effective fighting force.
As much as they had prepared for the end of the world, the men inside the Gaia bunker didn’t stand a chance.
***
Sat in his private office in the Ark, Father struggled to understand how things had gone so wrong so quickly. The last three mornings had seen Father wake up with a headache and anxiety, as if he was being warned of the events that had now come to pass. This morning had been no different, the teeth on one side of his mouth painful and throbbing with a dullness that made one crave the attention of even the worst dentist. That pain worsened now as he clenched uncontrollably, the stress too much for his body to deal with.
The woman he had married no longer spoke to him. When she finally found out what her husband had done, it had destroyed any affections she once might have had for him. She had married a monster, a man who would be responsible for the death of billions. Now, trapped on this desolate island, she did what she could to keep the children away from him. His wife didn’t tell them of their father’s crimes. Even with the evil he was guilty of, she couldn’t destroy their lives any further by telling them the truth about the man they idolised. She had never known about the secret life the man she knew as Dereck had held, not until armed and desperate men woke her in the middle of the night several days ago.
At first, she had thought she was being abducted, but their manner had been totally respectful and apologetic, giving her time to dress and collect things that she couldn’t live without. They even joked with the children, portraying it all as some incredible adventure that they were embarking on. Father had been away on “business” that day, and it was only when she was handed a phone call from him that she had learned from her husband’s own lips why she and her children needed to flee with the men whose eyes were filled with controlled panic.
“I’ve made a mistake, and now I need to protect you from that mistake.”
Since arriving at the island together with his family, Father had let his wife recoil from him without any sort of complaint on his behalf. He was distant from his children as well, his mind ravaged by the knowledge of what he had inadvertently done to the world. This was the unconscious mind you understand, his ego still trying to tell him that everything that had happened had been for the greater good. If that was the case, though, why wasn’t he eating? Why did his insides feel like they were constantly churning, his body ravaged with discomfort that no amount of painkillers could touch? And why, in the dead of night when sleep refused him any kind of refuge, did he lie awake with terror in his heart?
Mother had been right. Why hadn’t he listened to her?
It wasn’t hard for him to accept that he, above all others, was guilty of mass murder on an unprecedented scale. He had killed before and never had he seemed even phased by it. But this was different, soul destroying. It wasn’t even the fact that so many were dying. That had needed to happen to right the imbalance in the world. It was the chaos of it, the uncertainty. The plan had always been to save the planet, but Lazarus was now threatening to destroy everything. The thing meant to save them would be the world’s end.
Humanity had brought about the deaths of whole species as well as threatening the ecosystem to the planet. Reducing population numbers and restoring the balance between mankind and nature was essential to save everything. Without intervention, Father knew beyond all doubt that mankind would bring about its own downfall and most likely the destruction of the planet he resided on. So convinced was he by this, he had persuaded Brother and Uncle to accept the plan he had formulated. It had seemed crazy at first, but the world was hurtling towards ecological oblivion that would send the survivors back to the dark ages.
Lazarus had been developed to correct that, but now ironically it threatened the death of the whole ecosystem. Father found himself faced with the prospect of living on a dead world, made worse by the increasing and ever more desperate use of nuclear weapons by the world’s governments. If the undead didn’t kill everyone, the starvation that a nuclear winter threatened would finish the job. The creatures that dwelled in the dark places would be the only things left.
Lazarus hadn’t been ready for release, still months if not years from being finished. Its infective nature was perfect, but its ability to infect species other than man had needed to be corrected. That correction had never been attained, and now it was out there, running unchecked, killing everything it touched. This was his legacy, this was what he had created, and the knowledge slowly crushed him. It was everything he could do to get out of bed every morning.
The concrete above his head shook as the explosions on the surface continued. How had they found the base? Had Mother somehow known? Would she have told Father’s enemies if she had? Whatever the answer, the enemy was here, and they had the firepower to overwhelm the fortress that had been hastily constructed. There would be no stopping the forces of evil that threatened to break through. They would come for him, and he would be forced to pay the price for his own foolishness. Strangely, there was a part of him that felt relief at the prospect.
He knew why they were here. They hoped to find some sort of cure to the virus, and indeed there were vials of the vaccine that had been produced in the chilled refrigeration units that existed on the lowest level. He knew this was the attacker’s purpose because it would have been just as easy for them to simply destroy the bunker he was in. Father knew all too well the weapons available to the world’s superpowers. A bunker buster bomb would have been a much more efficient way of eradicating this compound. The fact that soldiers were storming the facility told him how desperate humanity had become.
He should have gone to his children, who were likely cowering in their mother’s arms. But how could he look them in the eye with his failures now so utterly complete? He had doomed mankind and delivered his offspring the same fate. The soldiers would come in here, and they would wreak their vengeance. Would they allow his children to live, or would their revenge require the death of everything?
The internal phone in his office rang, the noise unwelcome. The facility they had built was vast, built to hold a thousand souls and thus required its own internal communications network. Despite its size, its rooms and corridors were empty, only fifty people in residence, so frantic had
been the retreat from the world. That number included children, families, and a mere fifteen men devoted to the defence of the facility. Trusted for their loyalty and their skill, fifteen guards was nowhere near enough to defend against what was hitting them. Most of them were likely already dead in the battle that was raging on the surface.
Father lifted up the phone.
“Enemy forces have breached the main entrance,” the distressed voice of Uncle told him. A former military Colonel, Uncle had been put in charge of the defence of the facility.
“Can we hold them on the upper levels?” Father asked.
“No. We can slow them down, but they were able to blow their way through the main blast door. Anything we do won’t stop the inevitable. I don’t have enough men for that.”
“What do you suggest?”
“That all depends on whether you want the families to survive.” Uncle was unique amongst the three due to him being unattached with no offspring. A bachelor, Uncle had always seemed to show complete indifference to the fairer sex. And his attentions weren’t drawn to his own sex either. That had made him very effective as a member of Gaia, never distracted from the cause by the prospect of sexual gratification. He had sacrificed everything for what he believed, and now that sacrifice was about to be complete.
“We should save what we can,” Father said against his own better judgement. He loved his children, despite the distance he had put between them and himself over recent days. There was no point sacrificing them in some last ditched attempt at martyrdom. And despite her rejection of him, he still adored his wife. It wasn’t fair that she should continue to suffer for his failures.
“I’m sure Brother will agree,” Uncle said, the contempt in his voice difficult for him to hide. Uncle was a soldier, there would be no surrender for him. “You can tell him, I’m done with this world.” Uncle didn’t break the connection, and the gunshot that suddenly reverberated over the phone’s earpiece told Father that he would never again speak to the man he held as his equal. Everything had gone to shit so quickly.
How had he managed to corrupt himself so easily? Mother had been their guiding light. With her, they had been The Four. But then she had progressively become sicker, the cancer eating away at her insides, making her frail, and in the eyes of some useless. So she had become a mere figure head, and Father, Brother and Uncle had become The Three. Now Uncle was dead, and names didn’t really matter anymore.
***
Campbell followed the Delta Force Captain into the walled compound, the smoke from the many fires making visibility difficult. Not a single man had been lost in the assault, only two receiving non-life threatening wounds that were even now being treated by the medics within the Delta Force’s ranks. As missions went, this one had been successful, the reports of prisoners being held in the lower levels of the captured bunker giving Campbell hope that the trip to the island hadn’t been a waste of time.
Even seeing how big the exterior of the bunker was on satellite photographs, he was impressed with what had been built here. The logistics were astonishing, constructing such a facility on a small island in the middle of the ocean must have taken many millions of dollars. Whoever had built it had done so in the vain hope that it would be kept a secret from the world. They had failed in that regard thanks to the woman they had betrayed. Mother.
The main blast door to the bunker had been removed with the help of the Spectre gunship, its howitzer powerful enough to rip the door off the entrance, the shot an impressive act of precision. Stepping through the mangled entryway, Campbell avoided the debris that was scattered across the entry hall. He had expected some sort of luxurious façade inside, but the walls were just bare concrete, the bunker cold and functional in appearance.
They had been lucky. This place could have been swarming with defenders.
It soon became apparent to Campbell that the bunker was a maze of sublevels, corridors and rooms. Those inside might very well have played a game of cat and mouse, forcing the attackers to storm the place room by room, the threat of ambush ever present. But perhaps the people here had realised what that would have ultimately meant. Even if they had killed all the assaulting Delta Force, more soldiers would have most probably been dispatched to take up the fight. With nowhere to flee to due to the air superiority the Americans held over the island, resistance was indeed the height of futility.
When the man called Father had made contact, the Delta Captain had agreed to the survivor’s unconditional surrender. Campbell had promised that the children would be spared, but he would reserve judgement on everyone else. Even though the Delta Force Captain was in charge of the assault, Campbell was in command of everything else. He had his orders from Winters, who had her orders directly from the Office of the President herself.
Those orders were simple. All adults found were to be interrogated and executed.
The pair turned a corner, the body of a man lying in the middle of the corridor.
“Killed himself before we got to him,” the Captain said. Campbell merely nodded, understanding why some people would take that road out. Honour and the fear of an uncertain fate often gave people only one option that was viable to them.
“He won’t be the only dead body you see down here,” the Captain added. “Those you see that my men didn’t kill took their own lives, just like him.”
“Fanatics,” Campbell noted. “Where are the leaders?”
“We have them in what we assume is one of the mess halls.”
“How many are left in total?”
“Nineteen, thirteen of them children.”
“They brought children here?” Campbell asked, astonished. For some reason, he didn’t feel that children should be brought to a place like this. There was no warmth, no softness to it. It felt too much like a prison.
“There are several families. We have the children separated. None of them were injured.”
“Good,” said Campbell. There was still a chance that they could be useful.
The mess hall was like the rest of the facility. It was bright, but there was no character to the room. Bare walls with metal tables and chairs. With his respirator now removed, Campbell could detect the aromas of previously cooked food that made his mouth water. At least they ate well down here, the residents likely cooking for themselves. When his interrogations were complete, he might just have to sample what they had to offer.
Three soldiers stood watch over two men that were tied back to back to each other on metal chairs. The two men were hooded, one visibly shaking. This was why Campbell had come, to extract any and all information that could be acquired.
“Corporal Sebastian found an airlock on the lower level. Looks like they have a laboratory down there. It’s security code protected. He says he can blow it, but wants your okay,” one of the soldiers said to the Captain.
“I’m sure these two gentlemen wouldn’t threaten the lives of their children by denying us access,” Campbell said before the Captain could answer. Campbell stepped over to the two bound men and ripped the hoods off them. “Isn’t that the case, gentlemen?”
“Yes,” Father said. “I will give you whatever you ask for.” The other bound man just seemed to whimper. Pathetic.
“Good,” Campbell said, pulling a chair over. “So, you two are in charge here?” Both men nodded. “I was told there were three of you at the top of the pyramid.”
“Uncle killed himself,” Brother said. There was panic in his eyes, clearly the weaker of the two men.
“And you are?”
“Brother.”
“Brother isn’t a name,” Campbell reminded him. “But it doesn’t matter. Mother told me all about you.” The words seemed to be a betrayal to him. “Oh I’m sorry, are you upset with your precious Mother’s treachery? She really was quite forthcoming in her information about you.” He moved his chair around so he could look the other man in the eyes. “You must be Father.” Father nodded. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“You promise to keep our children safe?” Father asked.
“I’m a man of my word. You tell me what I want to know, and we will relocate them to a safe area. We have a naval destroyer on route that can transport them to one of the unaffected areas.”
“Thank you,” Father said. “And my wife?”
“I find it difficult to believe that she wasn’t aware of your activities the last few years.”
“She wasn’t,” Father insisted. “We always kept family out of this.”
“How very noble of you,” Campbell chided. “And I don’t believe a word of it.”
“I’m telling you the truth.”
“We’ll see,” Campbell warned. “Whether your wife lives is completely up to you.” Father seemed to accept that. Really, he didn’t have any choice but to believe what this man was telling him.
“So what do you want to know?”
“Do you have the vaccine in this facility?” That was the key to everything.
“Yes,” said Brother nervously. Campbell stood from his chair and smacked Brother across the back of the head before leaning close into the man.
“Was I talking to you?” Campbell screamed into his ear, causing the weaker man to shriek. Brother cowered down into himself.
“Please,” begged Father, “there’s no need for that.”
“The vaccine? Is it in the laboratory on the lower level?” Both men nodded. “What about research on the creation of the virus?”
“That is all in the computer mainframe,” Father said. “It’s password protected, and I will ensure you get access to that.” If he’d been like Uncle, alone here with no commitments, Father would have purged the entire database and destroyed everything they had in stock in the laboratory. But with children that needed saving, he knew that there would be a price for their safety.
The Lazarus Strain Chronicles (Book 4): The Dead Page 22
