I’m not sick and I’ll probably stay that way. The shot I took after launching the rocket must have been a vaccine. So this Zilla guy declared war on New York, huh? I guess that makes me his foot soldier. Secretly, I do feel bad. Damn fucked up.
Chapter 1.6
Tanis Heart:
The Day of the Extinction Event
I get off at the Fifty-Ninth and Lexington subway exit. It’s around noon. The city is bustling with people, all doing their thing and going here and there. I love this city. I live in Forest Hills and don’t get into the city much, but when I do, I love it. I’m only fifteen, but when I’m walking around New York I feel like an adult.
My cell rings. “Hello Ma. . . Yeah, I’m gonna surprise Dad at his office. Don’t be a dud, Ma. I just took the subway into town. I’ve done it by myself lots of times. I’m not a baby anymore.”
I finally get my Ma off the phone and unwrap a lollipop. She worries so much. I cross the street along with a bunch of other people. It’s just like any other day, semi cloudy and not too hot, even though it is the middle of the summer. People are doing what they always do: eating at the cafes, taking their lunch breaks, hopping into cabs, and whatever else adults do.
My dad is in the Air Force, but civilians would never know it. He doesn’t have to wear his uniform anymore because he works at a secret Department of Defense building in New York. He mostly works with, and maintains, satellites. He is the smartest guy I know. He’s near the top of the food chain, and he always tells me he loves his work. He’s on the job more than he’s at home, but that doesn’t bother me. Our whole country exists because we have a strong military. “The only problem,” he’d told me a thousand times, “is that the military doesn’t have enough power.” I agree with him. Civilians run the military. Civilians that are elected by cash donations from the biggest corporations on the block. The whole voting thing is so stupid. People should be told what to do because they are too stupid to think for themselves. Most of the kids I know are as dumb as rocks, and they’ll be the ones voting in a few years.
Our school had an election last year for student council president and for the other leadership positions. I say leaders ‘cause that’s what they call themselves. Truth? They’re just the nerds that run the bake sales and organize school rallies and stuff. Anyway, voting for the most popular person to run stuff was so lame. We all knew who was the most popular. They should’ve just given her the presidency and let us all carry on with our lives. The United States is the same way. The President is elected by popularity, not by what he’s done or can do, or how smart he is. I might even buy into the rumors that a secret group of people decide the winner, so they have a puppet on strings to run everything.
I wanted to prove that point to Jimbo, my best friend. Plus, he dared me to do it, so I rigged the school’s election. I programmed a simple five-line code into the main computer so that no matter who won the majority votes, Alexia would win. I’m kind of a computer hacker. Alexia was the nerdiest and least-known candidate, but she won by a landslide. It was too easy. I know it happens in the real world. That’s how Bush and Obama won. It’s all so stupid. The government lies to me, my teachers lie to me, my friends lie to me, and so on. Lies, lies and more lies. The only people I trust are my Dad and Ma.
I run to the front door of the DOD building. It’s a secret post that looks like any other building entrance in New York. The doorman greets me with a high five. He wears a stupid hat and white gloves and treats me like I’m three years old. Dork. Anyway, at least he knows who I am. He’s about to ring my Dad when I stop him. “Can I surprise him?” I ask.
The doorman winks and buzzes me in. I take the elevator to the top floor. I know everyone in the office so it isn’t weird or anything. I make my way past the cubicles, glass partitioned offices, and all the friendly people, and come to my father’s door. I don’t knock. I just burst in.
My dad is behind his desk. He looks up at me like he’s really surprised, but he doesn’t move. Something is off. I raise my hands to illustrate the surprise, but he just looks at me like he’s scared. I walk closer to his desk. He pulls himself closer to his desk, still looking like I’ve just flipped him the bird or something. I hear a thump under the desk and a squeal. I pull the lollipop out of my mouth to speak, but I can’t say anything. He rolls back from his desk violently. A woman stands up wiping the corners of her mouth. I find myself staring at the huge boob hanging out of her shirt. I can almost see her nipple. My dad, as quickly and discreetly as he can, pulls his pants up and zips his fly.
“I thought you locked the door,” the lady hisses. She tucks her boob back into her shirt and buttons it up. She’s buff lookin’, and has a nice scar on the right side of her face that runs down to her jaw. She fixes her hair and stomps out of the room. Not before glancing at me with a crooked smile like she isn’t mad at all. Weird chick for sure.
My dad gets up and grabs my arm, digging his fingers in. I cry out in pain. He pushes me into the chair in front of his desk. “You just screwed our whole family!” he snaps. “Stay here. I’ll be back.” He chases after the broad with the big tits.
I don’t know why, but I start crying. So my dad’s a liar too. How could he do this to Ma? They’re like soul mates, so happy, and always on each other like they’ve been in love forever. I stand up and pace. So now my parents are gonna get a divorce, and I’ll have to go back and forth between the two of them like James has to. I kick the desk as hard as I can.
The boob lady bursts into the room and beelines it to the desk. She picks up a thin leather bag that was sitting on the edge of the desk and turns to me. “Your father’s a great man,” is all she says. She sounds like a ditz.
“Get outta here.” I look down. Coincidentally, I see a logo imprinted on her leather pouch. I recognize it. It’s a simplified globe graphic with INA Global underneath it. Someone starts beating a bass drum, oh nope, that’s my heart.
She’s still staring at me and smiling. Then the smile fades. She takes her hand and slowly covers the logo. “You’re dad made a mistake. It won’t happen again. Don’t tear your family apart because of one mess up.” That’s all she says. She turns and walks out of the room.
Bitch! is my first thought. Not because she was lollipopping my dad but because of that logo. INA Global has been all over the chat rooms lately. It was a company that didn’t exist officially, but were into building satellite weaponry systems. This chick is a corporate spy. She’s got to be using my dad to get information.
I pull out my tablet and clip on the keyboard. I log onto Blacknet. The Blacknet is a hacker site on the Deep Web, which is a part of the underground Internet. It’s not a place for the faint of heart but, I go there to learn and chat with other hackers, not to browse porn, gamble, or hire a hit man. My contact list is flush with people available to talk, but I’m looking for Zilla.
Two months ago I was on a web chat with a few hackers from all over the world. We were discussing the hacker war between the U.S. and China. The DOD was hiring anyone with half a brain to combat all the daily security breaches from Chinese hackers. They were paying good money, too. Then this Zilla guy popped up on the board. He didn’t just have two cents to contribute, he had a thousand. He started uploading actual docs! I’d never seen classified stuff before and it blew my mind.
I was especially taken in by this company called INA Global. They’d built a kinetic bombardment system and sold it to the U.S.! It would basically launch projectiles from a satellite to any target on Earth, and the speed it would gain from space gave it so much power it would rival our biggest bombs.
Space-based weapons were totally against international law. My father didn’t even like them. He said they would be too easy to use as a weapon of mass destruction.
Zilla had all these docs that proved INA Global was looking for a buyer. They were accepting bids from China and Venezuela. He also said that INA Global was lobbying senators and congressmen. Zilla told me there were corporate spies
in our state department and DOD.
And now I’ve just found one.
“Zilla, I’ve got news.” I type into my chat box.
Zilla responds instantly. “All eyes, bro.”
“I saw this lady try to conceal an INA Global logo. She was acting weird. She’s in my dad’s pants and I think she’s using him.”
“She’s a mark,” Zilla types. “This is what we’ve been talking about. This is real. It’s happening.”
“I don’t know for sure.”
“Give me access to your dad’s computer, and I’ll find out if she’s been messing around in there. Then I can probably get on her box and put a bug in there so we can monitor what she does.”
“I don’t know. I could get in trouble.” I respond. “I should just tell my dad.”
“Dude,” Zilla types. “He’s not gonna believe you. INA doesn’t even exist. We need proof. Plus, there might be more spies in that office.”
I trust him. He doesn’t seem much older than me, and he’s got Einstein brains. There’s my dad’s computer, still logged on.
“Hurry, before your dad comes back. We only have one chance for this,” Zilla urges.
I plug a specialty USB cord into my tablet and then I pause just before plugging into my dad’s computer. “Will I go to jail? Is this right?”
“Do it now. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!”
I slam the USB home. Both computers blink out. I wiggle the connection, but it’s in.
“What the — ?” I say out loud.
Then my dad’s monitor comes back online. There’s a text box on the screen.
‘Nice work little dude. Pack up. I’ll find and reward you. ~Zilla.’
As I pull the USB cord from my dad’s computer an alarm goes off. I yank my keyboard from my tablet and cram it all into my backpack. There’s yelling outside the office door. I step away from the desk. I’m trapped against the window. My heart jumps around in my rib cage like a monkey on speed. Crap, I’m goin’ to jail.
My Dad throws open the door. His face is as intense as I’ve ever seen it. “You stay in this office. Do not leave!” he orders, then slams and locks the door.
I look out the window and down to the street, which is over twenty stories below. “Please, God. I don’t want to go to jail,” I whimper out loud. The lights go out. I’m scared shitless. Emergency lights fling red over everything. The intensity of the red competes with the daylight coming through the window. Shit! I need to get out of here. I’d rather go on the run than go to jail. Maybe Zilla can give me a place to stay until this thing blows over. Shit. I should’ve thought about this.
I run to the door. I can’t unlock it. This totally sucks. My chest gets tight. I put my ear to the door. Some guy is yelling so loudly that I can hear what he’s saying.
“The Constellation is down, sir. Every satellite! Not just the North American Constellation, but the European Constellation too. A virus has taken over the bios, wiping out our onboard memory and erasing our protocols. I can’t communicate at all. Internet servers are going down all over the planet. We’re sitting ducks.”
Someone else yells, “Level ten has shut down the building, sir. Our contamination alarms have gone off. There’s a virus in the building.”
“What are you talking about?” yells some other dude. “A computer virus is in our satellites and on level ten?”
“Sir, an unknown substance is setting off alarms on level ten. The whole building is being locked down.”
“What substance?”
“Not sure. But the system didn’t like something in our ventilation ducts!”
I’m sweating and I feel like a caged rat. Was this my fault? I’m fifteen. Can they try me as an adult? Shit! There’s nowhere to go. Then I see the vent. It’s big enough for me. It’s my only option. I grab my backpack, pull out my Swiss Army knife, then run to the vent by the desk. I unscrew the plate and worm my way into the vent. The next office over shouldn’t be locked, so if I can crawl a few feet to that vent I’ll be free. I squirm my way down the shaft a ways. I’m getting close to the next office vent. That’s when two metal doors close, one in front of me, the other behind. Shit! I scream in my head. The building shuts off the ventilation system. My asthma kicks in full gear and I can’t breathe! I reach behind me, pull my inhaler from my backpack and suck on it twice, three times. It doesn’t help. I need out!
I pass out like someone pulled my power cord.
Chapter 1.7
Ian:
As I wait for my credentials to be verified, I’m sweating like Niagara Falls under my coveralls. Why haven’t they come back? Did Zilla screw up my ID?
Eight months ago I’d felt like a different man. I was on a mission. I’d been in contact with a man who called himself Zilla. He despised, as I did, the tyranny of our capitalist leaders. Those leaders corrupted the entire U.S. system, which led to currency manipulation, shadow courts, and wars for oil. Zilla wanted to see the power given back to the ninety-nine percent. The forgotten man.
The whole global system was taken over by secret groups of the super-rich, and was redesigned to keep the power in the West and suppress growth in the rest of the world. It’s not cat and mouse; it’s checkmate. The rich and powerful need to be taken down. Billions of dollars are spent on guns and bombs and stupid political campaigns while people starve. Jesus, I sound like my mother.
She and I believed that weakening the capitalists was the only way to bring a sense of balance back to the earth. My mother fought the system from the inside. I fought on the outside. When socialism reigns the globe over, things will be better. Decisions will be based on what is good for the planet and humanity. Nationalism will finally be nailed in its coffin and put six feet under. The American dream is dead, having almost killed the world along with it. The future is globalism, environmentalism, and fairness.
#
This Zilla guy could say it better than me, which was rare. I spoke with him for hours sometimes. We saw eye-to-eye on almost every political issue. He was one smart bird. One day he told me about his plan. I can still remember what he said to this day, “The poverty of man and his reign on this Earth is over. American wealth is holding back global change. The puppet masters are too powerful. To create a unified and fair global government, the U.S. must be weakened.”
“Are you talking about the Bilderberg group? The G8? Illumiati? How do we even know which one controls our government?”
“That’s what we need to know!” Zilla blurted out. “There is an Achilles’ heel to America’s power. The media is still private, and always looking to take someone down. So we need to find the corruption wherever it hides. We become the computer worm and spy on the pawns. Then we follow the money and see who the knights and bishops are. They will eventually lead us to the Kings and Queens.”
Zilla continued, “We need to know how far down the feed trough goes. This is where you come in. I’ve got bugs on the President, the Vice President, and in many offices in Washington. But there are police, National Guard, and defense contractors that need to be bugged.”
His request hit me like a sledgehammer to the groin. “You want me to bug all those organizations?” I asked.
“Yes. With undetectable cameras and Wi-Fi data interceptors, we can tie down the conspirators, who they employ, and how they communicate. The corrupt are in control. So we need to take them down in order to destroy capitalism.”
I loved the idea. It was a “gotcha” move that wouldn’t hurt anyone, only reveal hidden pyramids. So I signed up. The package was left for me in the dive bar stall. Inside were very specific instructions on how to get the cameras into the air conditioning ductwork for all the targets. I began the work in earnest. A dozen different ID’s and logos passed over my coveralls. It got easier and easier.
#
Now, as I stare at the camera mounted to the corner ceiling of a little room, all I can think about is spending the next ten to twenty years in a federal prison. This job is dif
ferent than all the other jobs I’ve done. This one messes with the FEDs. I think about running. That’s a bad idea. They’d plaster my face over the six o’clock news and my life will be over. What the fuck am I doing?
The far door opens and a security officer enters. He’s in all-black fatigues and has a machine gun slung around his shoulder. He moves to the corner and instantly morphs into a statue. His rich, square eyes look at me, and they are cold as ice. I’m a rabbit among wolves. My eyes start watering. Blink, Damn it!
Just before I start screaming, the door opens again and a portly man steps through it. He hands my ID back. I take a deep breath.
“New with the company?” he asks. His face is wrinkled from decades of stress.
“Yes, sir.” I respond. “I’ve taken over Central.”
He finally smiles, drawing his lips off his whitened teeth. “Good. Redmond was always late.”
Redmond is the tech I replaced. I wonder for a moment where he is. Is it his day off? How did Zilla get me into this company anyway?
The portly pug man waves to the security guy. He steps up to me and reaches out for my toolbox. My heart thumps loudly in my chest. I hand over the tools. He rifles through the box then sets it aside. He then pats me down, thoroughly.
The portly man hands me a paper. “Now then. You’ve got some serious duct cleaning ahead of you. Here’s where our system shuts down the intake. Get in, clean out the stink, then get this paper back to Muriel. You are familiar with our ACL response ventilation system?”
I nod, but I am not. I have no clue what he is talking about.
“Good. Muriel’s the older woman at the desk on level 10. She’ll call an escort to lead you out of the building when you’re finished.” The man turns without another word and leaves.
6th Horseman, Extremist Edge Series: Part 1 Page 6
