Spore Series | Book 4 | Exist

by Soward, Kenny

  “What are we waiting for?” Moe asked, leaving Waki to stride past the captain. “Let’s see what they have to say.”

  Chapter 15

  Kim, Salina, Kansas

  Kim stared out the bus’s front window at the rainstorm sending sheets of water across the road. Lightning cracked the sky like broken glass, and the clouds had deepened to an impossible black that made the day dark as night.

  The streaks of gray fungus in the surrounding foliage had darkened and pulsed with a crimson glow. And it wasn’t just because it was wet.

  Every living thing out there—every grass blade, root, and stem—craved the moisture. It needed it to survive and grow. Yet, Asphyxia leeched off those nutrients, too.

  “The rain is reviving it,” she murmured to herself. “But is it a stronger fungi strain than the original version?”

  “What if it is?” Trevor asked from behind her.

  “I’ll have to see it under a microscope first,” she replied. She didn’t want to tell him the truth. That if a stronger fungi strain emerged, her serum might not work anymore.

  Disappointed but undeterred, Kim turned away from the rain-slicked glass to the bus’s living quarters. They had a pair of new guests. Each shared a bucket seat while her kids sat on the pull-down table and bench seats in their dining space. Bishop leaned against the tiny kitchenette with his arms folded as he stared at the boys they’d brought in.

  One was a thin, brown-haired boy named Saylor. He was the bike rider who’d outdistanced him the previous day. The other was a fifteen-year-old called Jake. Both attended Salina Public School and claimed to have thirty-five more children living in the school’s basement.

  “You kids want another Coke?” she asked with a glance at their mini fridge.

  Jake shrugged. “We’ve got plenty at the school. Better save yours.”

  “I appreciate that,” Kim nodded. “So, what are the age ranges of the kids at the school?”

  “I’m the oldest,” Jake replied. “Not sure about the other kids’, though. I think mostly sixth graders with a few from fifth.”

  “Any really little kids? Like, babies?”

  “No babies.” The boy shook his head.

  Kim’s eyes flashed to Bishop with a relieved look before she turned back to Jake. “And how did you survive?”

  “Our principle, Mrs. James. She was a real gun nut.” Jake smirked. “I guess she and her husband were preppers, too. You know, like the people on that doomsday show.”

  “I’ve seen it a few times, yes.”

  “Well, she always wanted us to do stupid drills like she did with her family. We did the regular tornado drills and fire drills, but Mrs. James took it to the next level.”

  “Like, way next level,” Saylor replied, making a whooshing motion with his hand.

  Saylor was a shy kid, and Kim had instantly taken a liking to him. His hair was wet and messy from decontamination, and he looked cute in Trevor’s clothes.

  “Like what?”

  “She made us do a nuclear fallout drill, a gas mask drill, and something called an EMP drill.” Jake shook his head, scoffing. “My parents used to get so pissed about it. They said it was a waste of time and shouldn’t be paying for it with their tax money.”

  Kim didn’t chastise the kid for language. She wanted him to keep going with his story. “Which drill helped you survive the best?”

  Jake glanced at Saylor, who continued to look around at the bus and its futuristic interior. “We were in summer wood shop class. It’s an advanced class for kids who like making stuff.”

  “Is that why you have different age groups at the school now?”

  Jake nodded. “Anyone can join if they want extra credit. My dad, he wanted me to go because he said college was stupid. He said he didn’t want to pay a bunch of money for a degree I’d never use.”

  “Go on.”

  “Our class was above the gym. The football team was out there practicing when the fungus stuff hit. We saw a big black cloud with weird looking streamers.”

  “It was pretty scary,” Saylor added.

  “Yeah, it was. Anyway, we saw the cloud go over the football guys, and they started screaming and choking.” A bead of sweat had formed on the boy’s forehead, and his eyes were wide with fear as he recalled the event. “All I could think of was the drills Mrs. James put us through, and the masks she kept down in the basement.”

  “I told everyone to shut the windows, and our teacher, Mr. Rafferty, asked me what I was doing. He came over and shooed me away from the window. Then he opened it. That stuff got inside, and he started choking. Same as the football players. His face got all...” Jake stopped with a sigh.

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell us what happened to Mr. Rafferty.” Kim shot Bishop a glance. She’d put her knee on the driver’s seat and leaned against the backrest, riveted by the boy’s story. “We know what the fungus stuff does. What did you do after that?”

  Jake smirked. “Are you kidding? I got everyone out. I told Saylor to lead them to the basement. I came right behind them. We took the stairs down and found the cabinet where Mrs. James kept all her prepper supplies. It was locked, so I used a brick to break it open. That’s how we got our masks.”

  Kim swallowed. “Lucky Mrs. James made you do all those drills.”

  Jake nodded vigorously in agreement. “Oh, yeah. No one’s laughing at her now.”

  “Where is she?”

  Jake and Saylor exchanged a grim look before the older boy continued. “We waited in the basement for almost a day. Some of us got hungry, so we came upstairs. That fungus stuff was on everything, but we went out anyway. We were scared at first but figured out the fungus wouldn’t hurt us if we kept our masks on. We stuck together and tried to find some grown-ups.”

  “Smart move.”

  Jake shrugged. “They were all dead. It really sucked.”

  “Sucked bad,” Saylor agreed.

  Kim’s heart sunk into her stomach, her expression falling. “All of them? All your moms and dads?”

  Jake nodded his head. “And Mrs. James didn’t make it either. We found her in her garden. She liked to maintain her...” the boy’s words caught in his throat as he tried to remember. “She called them per... peren...”

  “Perennials,” Saylor finished for him.

  “That’s it.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about Mrs. James,” Kim said, her voice dropping in sympathy. “It seems like she taught you kids right.” She paused for a moment, took a deep breath as she studied the two boys. “And there’s thirty-five of you.”

  “Twenty-eight, now.” Jake shot Saylor a dark look. “Some of them weren’t too good with their masks.”

  She swallowed hard. “And you stay in the basement?”

  “Yeah, so I figured we’d need a home base. So, we made camp down there and use our bikes and wagons to scout around and get stuff.”

  “What about cars? Did you ever try to take one?”

  “Cars make too much noise.”

  Saylor absently slapped his hand on the arm of his chair. “They can’t drive through yards and get over fences.”

  “Makes sense to me.”

  “But what about the barrier I ran into?” Bishop asked. The man had a booming voice, but he lowered it to keep from frightening the children. “Someone must have parked those cars there.”

  “I did that,” Jake said. “We’re trying to establish boundaries. We put roadblocks around the school.”

  “Boundaries from whom?” Bishop asked, then he nodded as the memory returned. “The other adults, right? The ones you warned me about. You said they wanted to take Kim.”

  “Yeah, them.” Jake shook his head. “They’re not good people. We call them the Ugly Eight. Even though there’s more than eight of them.”

  “Why? What did they do to you?”

  “We ran across them at the old mill. They tried to catch us. Said they’d help. But that’s how Timmy died. Fell off his bike escaping a
nd busted his mask. The fungus stuff got him.”

  “I talked to one of them,” Kim said, recalling the brief and frightening conversation with the woman right before the second wave of spores hit. “They didn’t hurt me. Maybe they were trying to help you, and Timmy was an accident.”

  “Did you see their faces, lady?” Jake pulled an expression caught somewhere between a scoff and a smirk. “Doesn’t look like they’re doing so hot. We can take care of ourselves way better than anyone else.”

  Kim nodded. “You’re right about that.” She turned to Bishop so he understood. “The adults are infected with a slower version of Asphyxia. Like I was telling you Jessie and Paul had.”

  “I see.”

  “They probably hid in that old mill until the spore density decreased. When they finally came out, the air must have seemed fine. Then the symptoms set in. Fungal spread around the nostrils and top of the lip. Black spots floating in the whites of their eyes.”

  “Yeah, pretty crude,” Jake said, and Saylor nodded in agreement.

  Kim stared back and forth between the boys, her eyes glossing over and a lump forming in her throat. “I just want to say you kids are super brave for staying alive. It’s tough out there. And I’m sorry about your parents, too.”

  “Yes, we’re all very sorry for your loss,” Bishop added, his voice soft and resonant inside the enclosed room.

  Saylor stared at the floor.

  Jake swung his feet beneath his seat and kicked them out again. He glanced at Kim and then looked around. “Where are you guys from? Where did you score this awesome bus? It’s like a tour bus. Were you rock stars or something?”

  Kim started to reply but lifted her eyes to her husband. The corner of her mouth crept up, and Bishop rolled his lips inward to stifle a laugh.

  “I’m actually a CDC field agent,” she said. Then she shook her head, realizing they didn’t know what that meant. “I’m like a scientist, but I spend much of my time doing work outside the laboratory for the government. Bishop, my husband, he’s a writer.”

  The older boy nodded, seemingly disappointed they weren’t musicians.

  “We’re actually working on a cure for the fungus,” she added hopefully.

  “Like, an injection or something?”

  “That’s exactly right.” She stared at the boys and then looked at Bishop. “Hon, can I talk to you in the lab, alone?”

  “Of course.”

  “Keep our friends company.” Kim nodded to Trevor and Riley. “Show them one of your games or something.”

  “Sure, Mom,” Riley said. She pulled up her tablet where it sat on the bench next to her and held it up. “You guys like zombie games.”

  The boys glanced at each other and nodded to the girl.

  “I love zombie games,” Saylor said with a wide grin.

  The kids gathered at the table with their tablets, and Kim stepped to the lab door, waiting for it to slide open before she strolled through. Once inside, she crossed to her desk and turned around with her arms folded across her chest.

  Bishop ducked into the lab, and the door hissed shut behind him.

  “Tough situation for those kids,” he said.

  “Absolutely terrible.” She bit her lip. “It just floors me. Can you imagine all their parents dying like that?”

  “I can’t.” The big man shook his head and crossed to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders in a bear hug. “Imagine if we’d died, and Riley and Trevor were alone.”

  “I don’t want to think about it.” Her stomach turned. “To be so alone like that, even if they had each other.”

  He held her tighter. “It seems impossible those kids made it this long. They’re pretty resourceful.”

  She pushed away from Bishop and raised her chin. “What are they going to do with their parents missing? I mean, they might scrape by and scavenge for a few months. Maybe even a year. But eventually they’ll struggle without adults around.”

  Her husband nodded. “What do you think we should do? Our goal was to get back to Yellow Springs and for you to improve the serum. That’s got to be our number one priority.”

  “Well, we can’t leave those kids here.”

  “We can’t fit them on the bus, either.”

  Kim scoffed and started to reply but then thought about what it would take to get twenty-eight children back to Paul’s. “We could fit them all on the bus and Stryker. It wouldn’t be impossible.”

  “Okay, maybe,” he conceded. “But I’ve got bins of food stored outside.” Bishop shook his head in disgust. “Now it’s totally covered in Asphyxia, but the bins are airtight. In any case, we’d have to leave that behind and scavenge along the way to feed all those mouths.”

  “What if we set up something on the roof of the bus?” Kim suggested. Or, better yet. What if we found a trailer? The bus has a hitch on back. We could use that to haul the food.

  “It might be possible.” Bishop rubbed his chin. “It would be super crowded, but it shouldn’t be a problem short-term. How long do you think it would take us to reach Yellow Springs?”

  “We’d have to skirt Indianapolis, for certain. That would add several hours to our trip. Going at the Stryker’s pace, with time to rest, we could realistically do it in two to three days.”

  Bishop nodded thoughtfully. “We could use Riley and Trevor to help watch the kids.”

  “There’s only one problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We need to hear from Yellow Springs first. We need to know there’s a place to come home to.”

  “Hopefully they’re just having trouble with their communications equipment.”

  “You don’t know what Burke’s capable of.” Kim shook her head.

  Bishop stared at her face and the fading bruises. He stroked her cheek gently with this thumb. “If he’s anything like that Richtman character, I think I do have an idea what he’s capable of. In fact, I’d like to meet the guy face-to-face.”

  Kim smiled. “I’d gladly make the introduction.” She leaned back against the desk and gave it more thought. “I mean, maybe we’re both right.”

  “Either way, I agree with you. We can’t do anything until we hear from Yellow Springs.” Bishop gripped her arms as he prepared her for his plan. “How about this? Let’s go check on the kids and their situation. At the very least, they might need medical attention.”

  “Fair enough,” Kim nodded. “We can--”

  AMI’s polite voice chimed through the lab speakers. “Kim, I detect you are in the middle of a conversation. Do you have time to take a call?”

  Kim trained her eyes upward. “A call?” She’d given AMI the task of sending out a repeated message via the military satellite system and short-wave bands. It had been a shotgun approach, but it was all they had.

  “Yes. I received a response to our request for information regarding the status of Yellow Springs.”

  Her breath caught in her chest, excitement rolling through her body. “Put them through right now,” Kim said, firmly.

  “One moment.” AMI paused. Something clicked over the speakers like a connection being made. “Hello, Chinle base. You are now on the line with Kim Shields aboard Mobile Unit XI. Please go ahead.”

  “Hello?” A gruff, male voice followed AMI’s introduction. It held an accent Kim didn’t recognize. Not Hispanic, but something else. She tried to recall the name ‘Chinle’ but hadn’t heard of it before. “Hello, is anyone there?”

  She found her voice. “Yes, this is Kim Shields. I’m a field agent with the CDC, based out of Washington DC. Who am I speaking to?”

  “Okay, great. My name is Moe Tsosie. I’m located just outside Chinle, Arizona. Can I ask your location?”

  Kim’s eyebrows furrowed. She didn’t know this man, but Arizona seemed too far to be a threat. She saw no harm in sharing with him, provided he had something on Yellow Springs. “We’re currently in Salina, Kansas aboard a mobile lab facility doing some... field research.” She paused, tryin
g to think of what to say next. “What’s the status of Chinle?”

  “We have a situation here,” Moe said. “But that’s not why we responded. Can you tell us how you know Lieutenant Colonel Scott Bryant?”

  Kim dropped her hand from Bishop’s chest, walked around him, and stood in the center of the lab. She spoke her next words carefully and directly, mimicking the man’s tone. “I worked with the lieutenant colonel on a matter of national security.”

  “Yes, ma’am, but... Hold on.”

  The speakers rustled like he was transferring the phone to someone else. The sound stabilized, and a woman’s voice resonated through the lab.

  “Hello, who is this?”

  “I’m Kim Shields from The CDC. Who am I speaking to?”

  “This is Captain Melissa Bryant,” she said with a stern edge. “Can you tell me the status of Scott Bryant? Is he alive?”

  Kim glanced at Bishop with wide eyes as a thrill danced up her spine. “The last time I saw him was in Yellow Springs. He was alive and recovering from the fungal infection. We--”

  A relieved gasp tore from the woman on the other end. “Oh, thank God. Tell me how I can reach him. I really need to reach him.”

  Kim gave her the number to reach her husband in Yellow Springs but caught her before she signed off.

  “Fair warning. We lost contact with them days ago.” She backed up. “He was assigned to General Miller’s camp in Washington and was put in charge of an operation to find a cure for Asphyxia. That’s what we call the fungal outbreak. We were all working towards that when I took a slight detour to pick up my family.” She shot Bishop a look. “Now I’m in Salina, Kansas, trying to get back to Yellow Springs.”

  There was a long pause, and Kim wondered if the line had disconnected. “Hello? Are you there? Melissa?”

  “I’m here,” the captain said. By the tone of her voice, it was clear she’d buried her emotions and steeled her resolve.

  “Listen, I’m not sure how long we’ll stay connected, so if you can hold off on trying to call him, I can tell you what happened to us. The information might come in handy.”