by Jay Vielle
Being a science guy, Al DeFillipo was peppering Wendy and the Colonel with questions about the particulars of what they were working on. “So how were the Russians going to use radiation on a massive scale without using nuclear bombs?” asked Al. “I mean, isn’t it a side effect of the explosion? That would be the method of release, right?”
“It was until very recently. Then they developed a new element. They call it Brenerium, after the scientist who made it, Andrey Brener. It’s completely unstable. It holds together for a short time, then it explodes into a more slowly decaying isotope. They were hoping to create a mega-bomb with it, but what they got instead was a delivery system for sustained radiation poisoning.”
“I’ve never heard of it. Brenerium?” said Al.
“Nobody has. It’s brand new. We barely know anything as it is. But Brenerium keeps breaking down farther and farther into other elements, or isotopes of elements. As a result, it is quickly absorbed in the skin, taking other things with it. It actually affects cell permeability. I don’t think the Russians knew what they had, until,” the Colonel paused.
“Until they started working with North Korea. They combined it with engineered Ebola,” said Wendy.
“Dear God,” said Al. “Radiation that continues to break down cell membranes and brings a virus with it?”
“The short version, but yes. That’s essentially it,” said the Colonel.
“How the fuck is anyone or anything still alive with something like that in the air?” asked Maureen.
“Because it doesn’t stay in the air long,” said Wendy. “It’s pretty unstable. It breaks down more and more. The part that is able to utilize the Ebola virus is very short-lived. After that, the virus itself just takes over and does the dirty work. Most people die within days. But not everyone who contracts Ebola actually dies from it. A small percentage of people are naturally immune, and about twenty percent of the entire population can defeat it within a day or two just because of their DNA make-up.”
“So, what were those people, things we saw at the gate?” asked Jake.
“Those people who don’t die of the virus were those producing enough antibodies in their bodies to hold it off. We think that those antibodies were strengthened by their contact with Livermorium,” said the Colonel.
“What’s Livermorium?” I asked. “Never heard of that either.”
“It’s one of the slightly more stable elements that Brenerium breaks down into. It first breaks into the Oganneson element, Ununoctium. Yuri Oganessian came up with that one, and for a while it was considered the heaviest element on earth. Folks believed that it was actually a metal, and shared some traits with the noble gasses.”
“Okay, so most of that stuff is so way over my head it’s not worth mentioning. Noble gasses, though, I remember those from high school chemistry. Like neon, argon, stuff like that, right?” I answered.
“Yes,” said Wendy. “But it existed for such a short time and under such strained synthetic conditions, that the scientific community waffled on it for a while. One group supposedly created it in a lab in California, but they were found to have been a fraud.”
“You’re losing me,” said Maureen. “Not a science geek. Stick with basic English. Why is all this important again?”
“Because the radiation from Livermorium affected those people with antibodies in a strange way. It protected them from contracting the Ebola virus, but it altered them greatly,” said the Colonel.
“Altered?” I asked.
“Turned them somehow into something that acted like lesser primates. Maybe even more primitive than that.”
“We tried to do a brain scan on one of them, but results were inconclusive,” said the Colonel.
“Inconclusive to you,” said Wendy. “I’m sticking with my conclusion.”
“Which was what?” asked Jake.
“Their frontal lobes essentially were rendered inactive. They followed only the limbic system.”
“Limbic system? You mean, they’re mentally like, lizards?” asked Al.
“No, they’re not lizards,” said the Colonel.
“Effectively, yes,” interrupted Wendy. They will behave like reptiles and amphibians. No higher brain function. Instinctual actions only.”
“And their orange skin?” asked Jake.
“A product of the isotope or the mutation from the radiation, we believe,” said the Colonel.
“So, let me get this straight,” Jake said. “Wherever one of these bombs goes off, the entire area is momentarily blanketed with radiation and Ebola. Most people contract and die of the Ebola, but the ones who don’t revert to some kind of orange reptilian-brained creature? Have I got that right?”
Wendy and the Colonel turned to look at each other silently for a moment. “Yes,” they said in unison.
“And from what we can tell, an even smaller percentage of them are affected less. Those two you saw standing upright, with good heads of hair? They seem to be the leaders. They direct the ones who walk on all fours. I’m betting if we could get a brain scan on them, we’d find something very different. Something more human, like us.”
“Jesus,” said Jake. “And they formed a hierarchy in a span of only a few days? Are they violent?”
“Yes,” said the Colonel. “They came after us after day two. We presumed that their intentions were less than honorable. Some of our colleagues tried to run and were captured and killed. We were able to lock ourselves back in the lab building, and they couldn’t get in. But they beat on the doors nearly all day.”
“Dear God,” said Maureen. “And you locked yourselves in with no food or water,”
“We split a cup of coffee and some gum on the first day after the bombings. We haven’t had anything since,” said Wendy. “Do you have any more of these bars?”
“I gotcha,” I said, and went to the back to grab two more.
“So, let me ask you this,” said Jake. “Why aren’t you two affected at all? Why aren’t you dead or orange?”
“Lead again,” said the Colonel.
“Lead?” I echoed.
“The walls of the entire portion of the building we work in are lined with lead. The most stable form of that radioactive material—Ununoctium--can’t penetrate lead. I’m guessing anyone who had some kind of lead walls or even old school illegal lead-based paint might have avoided all of this,” said Wendy. “Which brings me to my question: how are all of you alive? Those bombs leveled everything from Frederick to Washington. What protected you?”
“I think I can answer that, Wendy,” said the Colonel. “You said you came from Emmitsburg, right?”
“That’s right,” I said.
“East of Camp David?”
“Yes, why?”
“Camp David, upon hearing of the dangers of Brenerium, began installing lead projecting ordnance as a counter measure.”
“Lead projecting ordnance? What does that mean?” I asked.
“It means that the president set off a shit-ton of lead-spraying bombs into the air around Camp David,” said Jake. “Probably some went off every time an enemy attack came close by, effectively creating a kind of temporary lead force field that the effects of the Brenerium bombs couldn’t penetrate. That wall must have been enough to shield us from the radiation. That about right Colonel?”
“In a nutshell,” he answered. “That would be my guess. But the president didn’t set them off.”
“How do you know?” Jake asked.
“Because the president isn’t at Camp David,” said the Colonel. “He’s airborne.”
“Airborne?” I cut in. “Is he crazy? Who goes up in a plane when missiles and bombs are flying around everywhere?”
“Intelligent people,” said Jake.
“What? What are you talking about, Jake?” I countered.
“Same idea as steering a ship out to sea in a storm,” Jake said.
“Which is just as crazy,” I countered.
“Not really,” said Jake. “Boa
ts are built to withstand waves. And boats with deep keels can even withstand very high waves. But boats or ships near the shoreline can get battered and smashed onto beaches, reefs, and rocks. Better to be out to sea in a storm.”
“He’s right,” said the Colonel. “Same idea with being airborne during missile launches and bomb drops. Truly less of a chance of being hit with anything that high in the air.”
“Well if that’s the case,” I said. “If the president isn’t at Camp David,” why bother with all of those, whaddayacallem, counter measures?”
“Somebody IS at Camp David. Not sure exactly who. Vice President. Secretary of State, or Defense, maybe. Someone important, though, to use that lead shield,” said the Colonel.
“Pretty freaking lucky, and kind of amazing when you think about it,” I said. “We live in the one place that can help us by being a major target.”
“More like right place, right time,” Jake said.
“I need to get to Washington, son” said the Colonel.
“Are you crazy, Ray? It’ll be worst there of all places,” said Wendy.
“I need to get this intel—that you just helped spread to civilians who aren’t cleared for that kind of classified information—to someone who can actually use it.”
“Sorry Colonel, but we’re not going to Washington,” said Jake. I looked out the window and saw that we were coming up on Winchester, Virginia. Wendy and the Colonel had been with us for about 40 minutes. We had covered some serious ground in that time period.
“You don’t understand son, this thing is going to be of epidemic proportion,” the Colonel snapped.
“It already is, Colonel,” said Al. We haven’t seen a person anywhere other than you two. And those things. I think most people died from the bombings.”
“Well if we made it, and you all made it, I’m banking that some part of Washington made it,” said the Colonel.
“I’m not sure how much Washington there is left at all,” said Jake. “And if there is anything left, I’m not sure how safe it is approaching it. Assuming that communications are knocked out, just how do you plan to find anyone who might be able to utilize that information?”
The Colonel didn’t answer. He pursed his lips a moment and shook his head ever so slightly.
“You’re right. Wait—Colonel--how about Camp David? Someone’s going to be there,” I said.
“That place was locked down with tanks, Eddie. Every access road was blocked miles in every direction. You wouldn’t get close,” said Jake.
“They’d let me in,” Colonel Cannaveral said. “Besides, Camp David is on the way to Site R. That’s really where I ought to be.”
“Site R?” I asked. “What’s site R?”
“Raven Rock mountain complex,” said the Colonel. “In Blue Ridge Summit, Pennsylvania. Just north of Camp David. It is essentially the underground Pentagon. Many of the big heads will be there. They could use my information there. Can you turn around, son? Take me back that way?”
“That’s an hour in the wrong direction, Colonel,” said Jake. “We are headed south. I am collecting my sons.”
“I understand that, Marine,” he said. “But I can’t just sit on this information. Someone has got to be out there.”
“Have you tried calling?” I asked. Everyone suddenly looked at their phones. The Colonel fumbled for his pockets to no avail.
“Oh no,” he said. “No, no, no, no!”
“What’s wrong, Colonel?” I asked.
“My phone,” he said. “I must have left it in Fort Detrick. In the lab. In all the confusion.”
“Does anyone else’s phone work?” I yelled. “Mine seems to be getting some through,” said Al.
“I can’t. That number is classified. I don’t have it memorized on the top of my head, you know,” said the Colonel. “And you can’t just Google it and look for the white pages. Wendy? Do you have yours?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, me neither. But I don’t have information on Site R anyway, Ray. I’m civilian.” He nodded hopelessly.
“No chance you’d turn around, Marine?” asked the Colonel.
“The mission is a rescue, sir. And that’s priority.”
“Wish we knew more about where people sought shelter. What’s going on,” I said.
“Shelter. That might be the answer. Where’d you say you were going again?” the Colonel asked.
“Shenandoah Valley. Lexington, Virginia first. Then Blacksburg. Why?”
“Interstate 64 goes through Lexington, doesn’t it?” asked the Colonel.
“I-64?” I said. It doesn’t go anywhere. It starts in Virginia Beach, then just heads west.”
“Sure does. Straight to Greenbrier, West Virginia,” Jake said with a smile.
“My thoughts exactly,” said the Colonel. “Can you get me there?”
“Greenbriar?” asked Estela. “What’s Greenbriar?”
“Waitaminute,” I interrupted. “You guys are talking about that secret emergency Congressional bunker, aren’t you? It’s not a secret anymore. They actually give tours through it now. I’ve seen the video on You Tube. They wouldn’t go there. Everybody knows about it.”
“That just means it’s not secret,” said Jake. “Doesn’t mean it’s not functional. There’s a 15-ton blast door on that thing. It’s already built. Already ready. Who cares if people know about it? Besides, if everyone is thinking like you, it makes even more sense.”
“Hide in plain sight. Well, sort of,” said the Colonel. “I know that some of the higher ups were directed there. Maybe someone there can help.”
“That’s a hell of a little detour,” said Jake. “But how about after I’ve snagged my boys, Colonel?”
“How could we not?” said Al.
---------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------
The sun was shining brightly in Emmitsburg. Hunter’s Run High School was warm, bright, and the people in it were well-rested and content. The females of the group were cleaning up after brunch. Wes Kent was in the principal’s office with his feet propped up on the desk. He had removed the name plate underneath the small “Principal” sign. Mark Longaberger sat in a chair nearby.
“Any regrets, Mark?” said Wes.
“Not really,” said Mark. “We’re of the same mind on all of the things that went down. I agreed with you at first about the Heffners. We needed more information before letting them in. Everyone was panicking, like it was some kind of horror movie. Like if we didn’t let them in immediately, some creature was just going to come up and snatch them up right in front of us. I just thought we didn’t need to react too quickly. Try to find a way to see about the danger before we endangered anybody else.”
“Exactly,” said Wes. “And that bleeding-heart Jake Fisher wanted to put us all at risk.” Longaberger pursed his lips and nodded faintly.
“And I even give him credit for what he did to those marauders. It was brutal, but he saved the Heffners’ lives. But the whole, ‘display the dead bodies thing’ seemed a little over the top.”
“Medieval,” said Wes. “Unnecessary. It’s not like that’s going to keep people like that away. Those people that attacked the Heffners were animals. It’s in their nature. Dead bodies won’t scare them. Gangbangers are used to that kind of thing. It’s what separates them from us. Jake Fisher is one of those modern soldiers who thinks blood and guts solves everything.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” said Mark. “I just thought it was an indecent thing to do, even to those thugs.”
“They’re not people, really,” said Wes. “But we are. Our flock here can’t be expected to behave like Fisher did.”
“Flock?” said Mark.
“Just a term from church,” said Wes. “Our group, if you prefer.”
“Sure. Whatever,” said Mark. “Anyway, we agree on that too.”
“Good to hear,” said Wes.
“Finally, his actions at the Wal Mart,” said Mark. “That j
ust seemed to seal the deal that he wasn’t the right one to lead us.”
“Definitely not,” said Wes. “He brought that Mexican woman back with him. She threatened us with a gun! We don’t want those kind of people here.”
“I just don’t like it that he was the defacto leader,” said Longaberger. “He decided who would go on the hike to Wal Mart, he tried to decide all of those other things for us. I mean, who elected him king? We still believe in democracy, right? We can’t just let him lead just because he was in the military. That’s not, not American.”
“Not American. Exactly. And neither was that woman he brought back,” said Wes. “And neither was Eduardo Reyes. We can’t trust people who aren’t American, Mark. It’s all we have left now. Keeping the faith. Not knowing where the world is going after this catastrophe, it’s up to us to keep the faith. God wants us to keep America alive.”
Mark shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
“God?” said Mark.
“Of course, son,” said Wes. “God. God was here when the USA was started. He sent the Pilgrims, he inspired the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution, and though we’ve had some rough spots over the years when we abandoned him, we were finally headed back in the right direction, then the liberals got into power.”
“Hey, I’m a Republican,” said Mark.
“Of course you are,” said Wes. “You have some sense. You’re from a proper upbringing. Those people Fisher was with. They’re the reason our country went to Hell. They’re the reason we got bombed.”
Longaberger scrunched his face up a little. He swiveled his chair a bit. “Not sure I follow you on that, Wes.”
“Gays. Immigrants. Fornicators. It’s no wonder other countries find us disgusting and want to bomb us,” he said.
“Um, I think it might have been other reasons,” said Mark. “Political ones.”
“Of course. It’s political. We’re the USA, so everybody wants to bring down the top dog. I’m just saying that it’s not surprising that things went as south as they did, given the course we’ve been on. I mean, it’s in the scriptures.”
