The Death: The Complete Trilogy

by John W. Vance

  “Thirsty,” she said.

  “Yeah, water, I have some. Guys, I need some water.”

  Martin tossed him bottled water.

  “Here,” Travis said, giving her a few sips.

  She drank cautiously.

  “Good?” he asked.

  She nodded and waved to signal she was done.

  “Can I get you anything else?” he asked.

  She nodded and again waved for him to come closer.

  He leaned in again.

  “Devin, please find Devin.”

  Charleston, South Carolina

  The pistol clicked, signaling the boy was out of ammunition.

  Devin’s range of emotions swung rapidly from fear to anger. His rifle hung from his body on the two-point sling, but he didn’t go for that. He stepped towards the boy, knocked the gun out of his hand and smacked him across the face.

  The boy fell and cried out.

  Devin whipped out his pistol and pointed it at the boy.

  “Don’t shoot, please,” the boy begged.

  The anger turned to rage as he thought of Tess and what this boy had done to the woman he cared for.

  “Please, I’m just a kid. Don’t shoot me.”

  “You’re not a kid, you’re a fucking monster,” Devin coldly said and pressed the trigger.

  After shooting the boy, Devin stood over his body, tempted to shoot him again, but he refrained.

  Several exterior doors opened.

  Devin looked behind him. There were dozens of men pouring out of the ship, and he was their target. He knew he couldn’t take them, he’d surely die, but if he jumped, he just might survive the forty-foot fall. Desperate and with no place to go, he hurled himself over the railing and into the dark water below. As he fell, he had just one moment to ponder if the impact would hurt. When he hit, he found his answer; it did hurt.

  The pain from his gunshot was aggravating, but he soon forgot about it as he held his breath and swam as hard and long as he could. He heard the muffled sounds of guns firing and bullets hitting the water. All he could do was pray that he’d not get hit again. His life was literally on the line, and if he came up once, that would be enough for them to zero in on him. When he impacted the water, he hadn’t paid attention to the direction he was swimming, he had just started to swim with all his might. Luckily for him he had picked the best direction and found cover under the curvature of the ship. He came up, caught his breath and continued swimming towards the aft. From there he swam until he reached the inlet of the creek and river.

  He had made it, but the success of his jump was dampened by the fact that he had lost Tess. His right hand was the first to warn him he had reached the muddy shore of the creek. On his hands and knees he crawled out of the creek and rested on the grassy mud just a few feet out of the water. His chest burned from overexerting himself, and his shoulder was numb now. Still lying on his back, he reached over and inspected his shoulder; just his touch brought searing pain. He thought about getting up and moving, but he was exhausted. Grabbing a handful of mud, he stuffed it into the bullet hole. He had no idea when he’d be able to give the wound the attention it needed, and this for now would stop it from bleeding, or so he hoped.

  Large floodlights blasted the river and surrounding area of the shipyard. Renfield’s men were looking for him no doubt, he thought, but he was also sure they were looking for others that might have been with him.

  His body screamed out in pain as he sat up. From his shoulder to his back, his body told him to stay put, but he knew that was impossible. Soon, he knew, they’d be looking outside the shipyard. Ignoring his body, he grunted and moaned until he reached his feet. Based upon where the ship was behind him, he figured the Humvee wasn’t far. Slogging through the tall grasses, he walked east until he found the small gravel road; there he knew he was close. The sounds of vehicles leaving the shipyard echoed over the trees and creek. This gave him the encouragement to walk faster. His assumptions and innate sense of direction were proven correct; the Humvee was exactly where he’d thought it was.

  After a slight struggle to get his racked body inside the vehicle, he hesitated before starting it. He peered through the thick windshield glass towards the ship. The floodlights were still splashing across the area in a desperate hunt for him and Tess. It was Tess that gave him pause; he couldn’t believe she was gone. He was tempted to stay and look for her body, but her voice popped in his head and scolded him for such a dumb idea.

  With deep regret and sadness, he started the Humvee and pulled out of the boat docks and headed towards North Carolina.

  Fifty-seven miles north of Denver International Airport

  They still sped north, headed towards their new home, the missile silos of Wyoming.

  Martin had kept in satellite phone contact with his Scraps in Denver. They reported back that their mission had been a success. They had pulled it off. They had destroyed the DIA, Horton’s lab and taken patient zero, but what they failed to find was any vials that had contained the new virus. In Martin and Gomez’s search of the laboratory, they had collected trash bags of hard drives and paperwork. Their hope was they’d be able to reconstruct or find something useful.

  For Travis the mission was an utter failure. Losing Lori was something he’d never recover from, and when he heard that the bomb had gone off, he hoped that it provided her relief. Upon his return he planned to set out and find Tess. He had waited too long, and with nothing holding him down, he was free to go. Guilt entered his mind when he thought of his fiancée, but he quickly dismissed it. He decided then that he wouldn’t plague his mind or conscience with such useless emotions. He was a man who needed missions, who needed purpose, and now he had one.

  Cassidy was now awake and asking an endless stream of questions. For her the entire seven months was a dream. Her last memories were of the hospital in Indianapolis and being sick. As Travis and Martin explained the world, she couldn’t believe it. She thought that it all must be some sort of dream or a nightmare. She was important for the magistrate, as she could save the world or kill the world. However, all she cared about was finding Devin wherever he might be. Her life had been a challenge since she was a little girl, but she always found a way to survive and succeed. She would have to tap into this internal strength to find her place in this new world.

  The van crested a small hill and past the old imaginary line that separated Colorado and Wyoming. In a few hours the light of a new day would break the horizon. For all of them any tomorrow was not a guarantee but an opportunity and a blessing. Their struggle was far from over, but they could take heart that they had secured a victory in a war that had only begun.

  Day 227

  May 15, 2021

  North Topsail Beach, North Carolina

  Devin’s aches and pains had slowed him down considerably, but he persevered and completed the six-hour drive. Stopping just short of the house, he couldn’t decide on how to tell the kids they had failed and in that failure lost Tess. He still couldn’t believe it himself. The long drive found him pulling over several times to stretch and cry. Imagining a world without her was unspeakable, yet he had to go on. He didn’t do it for himself or the kids but for her; that was what she would want. He would have to be strong and lead Brianna and the kids out of there and to a new home. Where that would be was still unknown, but he would find a way.

  Finally gathering the strength, he put the Humvee in gear and drove the remaining distance to the house.

  Brianna was the first to spot him; she called out to the children, who all came rushing out of the house and into the driveway.

  He parked and looked at the happy faces on all the little ones, as she called them. Even Melody was outside eager to greet them. It broke his heart to have to tell them she was dead and they had failed to rescue anyone.

  Brianna knew something was wrong. She could see it was only him behind the wheel and saw the pain written all over his face.

  “Okay, kids, back inside, yo
u’re probably scaring them with all these squeals of excitement.”

  “No, we want to see them, welcome them home,” Alex said with a large smile.

  Devin couldn’t let them wait anymore; he opened the door and slowly stepped out.

  When the children saw the condition he was in, they stopped their celebratory laughter and cheers.

  Meagan ran up to him and gave him a hug. “Uncle Devin, you’re hurt.”

  Devin couldn’t stop the tears and didn’t want to; he broke down. He placed his hand on her head and said, “Yeah, I got a bit banged up.”

  “Where’s Tess?” Alex asked. He had walked to the passenger side and looked in. “Where is everyone? Are they coming behind you in another car?”

  Devin began to sob and tried to talk, but the words wouldn’t come.

  “Kids, give him some space, please,” Brianna ordered.

  Meagan wouldn’t let go and held onto his hand.

  “No, Alex, there isn’t another car. No one else is coming.”

  “What?” he asked, shocked.

  The joyous occasion took a dramatic turn and became somber.

  “I’m so sorry, but we couldn’t rescue your brothers or sisters. We tried, but there were too many.”

  “Where’s Tess?” Alex asked with anger in his voice.

  Devin sobbed again and tried hard to stop, but seeing the kids and Brianna made it impossible.

  “Where is she?” Alex again asked, almost yelling.

  “She was killed. She’s not coming back,” Devin said, finally getting out what everyone already knew.

  “No, no!” Alex screamed and ran off.

  “Alex, come back!” Brianna hollered.

  “I failed you all, but we tried. There were just too many,” Devin cried. “There were just too many.”

  Brianna took control of the sad situation and brought Devin inside. She cleaned him up and put him to bed.

  As he lay looking at the ceiling, all he could think of was Tess. He felt cheated. The world had taken Cassidy, and now it had taken Tess. Anger grew in him. Never again would he allow himself to fall victim to love, and never again would he allow anyone to victimize the innocent. Tess would live on in him through his new mission in life. He would be the champion of the weak and innocent. He would find these children a home, but he would go beyond that, he would create them a community to live in that was safe from the predators and marauders, but that all would begin after he woke. The fatigue of the past couple days caught up with him, and slowly he drifted off to sleep. Just before he dozed off, he muttered, “I love you, Tess.”

  Epilogue

  Day 233

  May 21, 2021

  North Topsail Beach, North Carolina

  Devin was excited to get back on the road. With Brianna’s help, he had healed nicely from the gunshot wound. Thankfully for him it had been a clean shot straight through.

  The children were also excited about the prospects of a new home and were being extremely helpful as he packed the Humvee and truck.

  Devin was diligent and detailed, others would say he was anal, but he ignored those comments. Before he packed any vehicle, he took everything out and organized it, then repacked it so it had a place and he knew where to find it.

  As he went through his inventory of protective equipment, he lined up his tactical vest and the spare Brianna had. He remembered Brianna didn’t have a trauma plate, and after what happened to Tess, he wanted her to have the one Tess refused to wear.

  He dug through the back but couldn’t find it. He emptied every pocket of every pack, but it was gone. Frustrated, he ripped through every square inch. He tossed and threw every scrap out of the Humvee, but it was nowhere to be found.

  “Arghh!” he grunted loudly.

  “What are you getting pissed about?” Brianna asked.

  “Tess’s trauma plate, I can’t find it. After losing her for not having one, I’m not going to let that happen to anyone else.”

  “You sure you looked in every spot?”

  “Yes, I’ve looked everywhere. It’s not in there.”

  “Bri, can you come here? Melody needs you,” Meagan called from the house.

  “I’ll be right there,” she replied to Meagan. She turned and headed back in, but stopped and asked, “Are you sure Tess didn’t have it on?”

  Devin thought. No was his initial answer. He distinctly remembered touching her chest and not feeling it. Annoyed, he dove back in the Humvee and looked again; then it struck him. His memory from that night came back. “Wait a minute, she went back to get something. Wait a minute!” Devin ran towards the house, yelling, “She had it on! She was wearing the plate!”

  Brianna stopped what she was doing and looked at Devin. “Slow down. You’re about to hyperventilate.”

  “Bri, we have to go back. We have to go look for her. She might be alive.”

  “But you said she was shot in the chest.”

  “She was, but she had the trauma plate on. It was a ballistics plate; it would have stopped the bullet!”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I remember she didn’t have it on; then she went back and did something. Now I can’t find it. Brianna, we have to go back. Tess might be alive!”

  The Death: Extinction

  Prologue

  Day 9

  October 10, 2020

  Denver International Airport

  Dr. Mueller walked into the room and was taken aback by the resounding applause he received. Never in his life had he felt such pride. His years of study and research had finally paid off. For once he was the one in the spotlight, he was the one receiving praise. He had never imagined he’d be able to combine his expertise in communicable diseases with his fervent political views. The journey from the day he met then CDC Director Horton at his offices in Atlanta until now had been a long seven years, but for him it was all worth it.

  The disease he had manufactured, now known in layman’s terms as the Death, had been doing exactly what it had been created to do, kill off most of the world’s population and rid the planet of mankind’s influence.

  For Mueller this recognition was more than professional, who needed to be known professionally now that the world was dying? It was more personal, a vindication that his talents were truly unique, and after years of feeling inadequate he had his vindication. However, would it be enough? Would this fill up the emotional hole that had been dug deep during years of being an outcast?

  “Dr. Mueller, congratulations!” a large man said from his seat at the head of the massive oak table.

  The walls of the darkened boardroom were lined with one large fifty-inch LED monitor after another. The volumes on all were muted, but the images and scenes of chaos screamed out from them all. On the wall above the head of the table hung the Laws of the Order, the code they all lived by and a blueprint for their plan.

  Maintain humanity under 500,000,000 in perpetual balance with nature.

  Guide reproduction wisely — improving fitness and diversity.

  Unite humanity with a living new language.

  Rule passion — faith — tradition — and all things with tempered reason.

  Protect people and nations with fair laws and just courts.

  Let all nations rule internally, resolving external disputes in a world court.

  Avoid petty laws and useless officials.

  Balance personal rights with social duties.

  Prize truth — beauty — love — seeking harmony with the infinite.

  Be not a cancer on the earth — Leave room for nature — Leave room for nature.

  Mueller motioned to the scenes on the monitors and said, “You’re welcome, all of you, but I’m the one who is thankful. You gave me an equal place at your table and trusted in me. You allowed me to put forth my talents so we can all see a better world.”

  “All is going according to plans,” the man said.

  Horton sat next to the large man, but the excitement wasn’t oozing from his
pores. His gaze fixed on Mueller, and if looks could kill, Mueller would have been dead.

  This unnerved Mueller; he could feel Horton’s leering eyes and was curious as to what he was thinking.

  After several minutes of receiving the highest accolades, the meeting convened. All the chancellors of the Order exited and headed towards their designated areas of responsibility. Phase One was still ongoing and they needed to be in place to execute Phase Two.

  Standing outside the large room, Mueller stuffed his hands in his pockets and put his head down. So quickly the joy of having accomplished so much was turning melancholy. What would he do now? So much of his life had been dedicated to this mission and now his part was over. As each chancellor walked past him, they patted him on the back or shook his hand. With a grin he responded, but he couldn’t shake this feeling that it was over.

  A large man, Chancellor Franz Abert, walked up. A massive toothy smile stretched across his plump face. He was in charge of Europe and headquartered his chancellorship in Geneva, Switzerland. “Dr. Mueller, I am so pleased, so pleased,” he said in a thick Swiss accent.

  “I’m glad. I can say that it was nerve-racking at times,” Mueller answered.

  “I know you must be feeling that you don’t know what to do now.”

  Mueller raised his brow and opened his eyes wide. “It’s as if you can read my mind. I was just standing here thinking that exact thing.”

  “Don’t let it worry you; all great men have that feeling. It’s hard not to wonder what’s next; you feel almost alone. When you work so hard and accomplish something so massive, it’s a natural human tendency to ask that question,” Abert said, his tone softening. “Come with me, come to Geneva; relax. You’ve earned it.”

  Mueller lowered his head and thought about the proposition. He didn’t really have a home and the world was quickly falling apart. Why not go to Geneva?