The Death: The Complete Trilogy

by John W. Vance

  The magistrate coughed and once again spit out a large amount of blood. “Hmm, I think your men hurt me pretty bad. I think I’m bleeding internally.”

  “You told me you loved me and let me be honest, brother Calvin, I loved you too, but you betrayed us, you betrayed me and even tried to have me killed.” Horton shifted in his chair and chuckled. “I have to say, you’re resilient, and how on Earth did you manage to get a nuclear weapon and the polonium to boot? Brilliant!”

  “You taught me well.”

  “I was going to just chat with you and then kill you, but you know something, seeing you there and our little conversation so far makes me miss the old Calvin. Don’t mistake me, you’re going to go back to the universe, but I’ll make it painless.”

  “You’re such a gentleman,” the magistrate joked.

  Horton dug in his pocket and pulled out a tiny aerosol bottle and placed it upon the table. “You see this?”

  “The new virus.”

  “Yes.”

  “Didn’t you kill enough? Why take it further?”

  “So often we use to refer to man as a cancer, but that’s not true. You can’t manage cancer, if you have it, then you have to get rid of all of it. I don’t want to kill man off entirely. I want to have a small but manageable herd. Man is more like whiskey; if you have it in small amounts, it’s good, because a small glass of whiskey makes me feel great. Mankind has the capacity to create such wonderful and beautiful things. However, when you drink too much whiskey, you become drunk and get sick. You see, the planet is sick and drunk from too much mankind. I’m merely here to moderate what the world is allowed to take in.”

  “So you’re the world’s parent; you’ll give it the small doses it needs. I have to ask, though, what happens after you die? What’s to ensure things don’t return back to the way they were?”

  “I don’t know and just because I won’t always be around doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try to save the planet. If man again repeats its harmful and selfish ways, then hopefully another man or woman like me will rise up and put them down.”

  “I’d love to drone on, but I don’t feel very good, and to be honest, I think I’m dying. My abdomen hurts really bad.”

  Horton held up the tiny bottle and said, “Soon my vision will be realized. So strange that something so small can have such a huge impact.”

  “I know what you mean, so much power can be held in such small things,” the magistrate said with a bloody-toothed grin. One of his front teeth was gone and the other broken in half.

  Placing the bottle in his pocket, Horton shocked the magistrate with a revelation. “If you’re referring to the other nuclear weapon you left in town, don’t get too excited.”

  The momentary glee the magistrate was feeling melted away.

  “I wouldn’t come here if I thought you had something up your sleeve. You see, I knew you were smart, and if you hadn’t left, it was because you wanted to draw me here. You couldn’t kill me before, but maybe if you sacrificed yourself, you could do it. You see, I gave my men specific orders, don’t kill unless directly threatened. I had them then gather every living soul and begin the process of true enhanced interrogation, not the phony bullshit but bona fide torture. It’s amazing what people will divulge when you’re cutting off fingers.”

  The magistrate tried to get up, but his wounds made for a slow response. Wendell grabbed him and held him down. “But you’ll never find her, never!” he yelled, referring to Cassidy.

  “I don’t need her anymore.”

  The magistrate shrugged off Wendell’s grasp and spit across the table at Horton.

  “Now that wasn’t very nice.”

  “You may think you have it all thought out. But let me tell you that your hubris will be your downfall. As I sit here now, I’m telling you that you won’t survive the onslaught you’re about to release.”

  Some of the magistrate’s spit had landed on Horton’s long sleeve. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped it off, then tossed the soiled cloth onto the table. “Calvin, your bomb will go off but long after I’m gone. You see, I was going to kill you myself, but like I said, seeing you brought back some fond memories. You should die honorably and quickly, I owe you that from our past,” Horton said and stood up. He opened the door, and just before he left, he turned and said, “Goodbye, my old dear friend.”

  Dulce, New Mexico

  Mueller found the clothes the woman had arrived in and searched each pocket for anything that would tell him who she was, but he found nothing except a small silver charm of two ballet slippers with pink bows. He looked for any inscription but again came up with nothing. He carefully placed it on a box next to the bed. A small folded piece of paper was in the back pocket of the jeans. He unfolded it, but again nothing told him who she was. On the paper was a handwritten poem. Like the charm, he placed it on the box. And lastly an old Indian head penny dated 1902 was in the coin pocket of her jeans. He put the penny with everything else. What a strange combination, he thought. Looking at her, he understood the charm and even the poem, but the old penny—odd, he thought.

  Her body seemed to be accepting the vaccine. Since falling asleep during her bath yesterday, she hadn’t awoken. Her sleep had been difficult at times with spasms and tremors, but the blood flow had reduced and her fever had come down.

  He now had her on an IV, catheter and drugs to manage her pain.

  If she were to survive this, it would be amazing but not impossible. The new vaccine he had developed worked well on other patients. He had even gone as far as taking it himself. That made her and him the only two living people to have received the vaccine; the test patients who had received it were immediately disposed of once it was proven it worked.

  His two assistants hadn’t returned since he told them to leave. At first he was concerned, but soon didn’t care. He knew his value had decreased, but he also knew few people cared much less knew about him being there.

  A long fluorescent tube began to flicker off and on just a few feet away. He ignored it at first, but soon it began to agitate him. “Argh.” He left his seat next to her and went to a supply closet where he’d seen replacement bulbs.

  He placed a ladder just below the flickering light and climbed up. The bulb tinged each time it flickered off. He carefully rotated it, but it wouldn’t pull out. He pulled harder, but it was stuck or jammed. “Oh, c’mon,” he snapped. He gave it a harder pull and it broke free, but the force of his pull caused him to lose his grip on it. The long bulb fell to the laminate floor and exploded into thousands of pieces. “Damn it,” he exclaimed. He climbed down from the ladder and looked at the mess on the floor. He was tired and had zero interest in cleaning it up.

  A rustle from the bed got his attention.

  He turned to see her rolling over. This was the first time he’d seen her really move since yesterday. He hustled over to the bedside and looked to see if she was awake.

  She was. Her eyes were open, and upon seeing him, she reacted negatively. “No, no.”

  He saw her fear and said, “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to save you.”

  “No, please, no more.”

  He took a step towards her, but she recoiled.

  Seeing this, he stopped. He took a step back and raised his arms. “I’m sorry about what happened to you, but nothing like that will happen again, I swear.”

  She sat up slightly and pivoted her head, looking for the other men. In her memories those were the two who had tormented her.

  Mueller sensed she was looking for his lab assistants. “No one is here. It’s just us.”

  Her fear gave way to misery as she began to sob. Her tears were pinkish as some blood was still present in her tear ducts.

  He grabbed a few tissues and gave them to her. “I swear, I’m here to help you. I’ve given you a vaccine and the good news is it appears to be working.”

  “Where am I?”

  He looked around the room and replied, “It doesn’t
matter, but I can tell you it’s a safe place for now.”

  “Why am I here? All I remember is I was taken with others from my camp.”

  “You’re safe, I promise.”

  “Who are you?” she asked, looking at him suspiciously.

  He took a step towards her and answered, “My name is Dr. Mueller.”

  She again recoiled when he approached and pleaded, “No, not any closer.”

  “If I were going to hurt you, I would.”

  “You did hurt me, I remember you. You sprayed me with something after those other men stripped me down,” she cried then lifted the sheets to look at her body, now clothed. “Did you? No please tell me you didn’t.”

  Mueller didn’t know how to address her intense fear except to keep trying to reassure her. “You’ll be fine now.”

  “Did you rape me?”

  “No one touched you like that; I can assure you of that.”

  Her steady tears became sobs as she examined herself.

  “You need to rest; I can’t stress that enough. The vaccine is working and now what you need is rest, fluids and nutrients.”

  A loud bang on the lab doors scared her. Instinctually, she hid beneath the sheets as if the thin cotton would shield her like metal armor.

  Mueller too was alarmed by the bang on his door.

  Two more bangs followed.

  He approached her, tossed another blanket on top of her and rushed towards the door. Ever nervous that any visitor could represent his death, he’d finally decided he’d protect himself. He stopped in his office and from the top drawer pulled out a semiautomatic pistol. He was unfamiliar with how it worked but understood the function enough to press the magazine release. He looked at the fully loaded magazine and reinserted it. He pulled the slide back and a bullet flew out. This startled him, as he wasn’t expecting it. He nervously scrambled to find the bullet, but it had hit the floor and rolled away.

  More banging at the doors echoed through the lab.

  “I’ll be right there!” he yelled.

  The slide had gone forward and he assumed it loaded another bullet. Jittery from who might be at the door and anticipating a fight, he put the pistol in his lab coat and made for the door.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s James. I need to get some of my stuff.”

  James was one of his lab assistants.

  “What do you need?”

  “Let me in, Dr. Mueller.”

  “What do you need? I’ll get it for you.”

  An uncomfortable silence spanned tens of seconds.

  Mueller placed his ear against the door and listened. He heard James whispering to someone.

  “Who’s with you?”

  “Doctor, please open up.”

  “I’ll empty out your locker and Bradley’s too. Come back in an hour!” Mueller hollered.

  Unintelligible chatter from the other side of the door heightened Mueller’s anxiety.

  “Fine,” James replied.

  Mueller listened and could hear two sets of footsteps walking away.

  When he was sure they were gone, he headed back to check on the woman, but all he found was an empty bed. He tossed the sheets off and looked around. “Where did you go?” In the corner near some large cabinets he heard some movement. “They’re gone. No one is going to hurt you.”

  “I want to leave,” she said from a concealed position.

  Not wanting to scare her more, he stayed next to the bed. “You need rest. If you want to live, you must rest.”

  No reply.

  “Did you hear me?” Mueller asked.

  Still nothing.

  He followed a small trail of blood to a darkened corner between two large cabinets. There, tucked in between them, she lay passed out. Blood streaked from her arm where the IV needle had been and her head drooped over her chest. All he could think was her fatigue had given way to vertigo and she blacked out. He shook his head, bent down and picked up her small frame. Never one to brag about his strength, he felt strong holding her light body.

  She was small, not more than five foot one, and because of life at the camp and the virus, he estimated her weight below a hundred pounds.

  He took her back to the bed and laid her down. He reinserted the IV, gave her a booster shot of the vaccine just to be safe, and tucked her in.

  He looked up at the fluorescent lights and imagined it had to be difficult to sleep with them on. Since his first day there he hadn’t ever turned them off, so he looked for the switches. As expected, he found them next to the main door. Using his office light as a night light of sorts, he turned off all the overheads. He pulled his desk chair out, sat down and relaxed. The gurgling sounds from each breath he heard before were gone. This was a good sign; the fluids, primarily blood, that had been in her lungs were clearing up. He slid down in the chair and rested his head on the back of it. His eyelids grew heavy, and he felt that no matter what happened to him, he was doing something right for once. If there was a God, he thought, hopefully, the mercy he was showing the woman would count for something.

  Day 237

  May 25, 2021

  West of North Platte, Nebraska

  “Rover One, Rover One, this is Josh. Please come in!”

  Upon hearing Josh’s voice come over the radio, Cassidy had Travis pull the SUV over onto the gravel shoulder of Interstate 80. In front of them a green sign emblazoned with large white letters read North Platte 6 miles.

  The journey from Pine Bluffs had been slow. First, getting around the town took time, as they swung miles north and drove overland to avoid being spotted by any helicopters or surveillance drones. By the time they thought it safe to cut east, the sun was setting and Travis thought it best not to drive at night.

  For Cassidy, watching the assault of Pine Bluffs shook her. Never in her life had she seen such a thing. Being in a drug-induced coma for over six months had shielded her from most of the horrors many people experienced. However, the most dramatic scene she witnessed yesterday was not the helicopters firing missiles or hearing the roar of machine guns, it was the massive mushroom cloud that rose from the ashes of Pine Bluffs.

  Travis first saw the cloud in his rearview mirror and pulled over. Twice in weeks he had witnessed the signature cloud of a nuclear blast.

  For Cassidy it felt surreal, almost like she was watching a movie. It just didn’t seem realistic. She was having the hardest time coming to grips with what had happened back in Pine Bluffs and her heart ached for all the good people she had recently met, knowing they were all dead now.

  The remainder of the drive she had kept quiet and to herself.

  Travis tried to get her to talk, but her simple single-word answers were enough to tell him she didn’t want to. Fortunately for him he had Bill and Tom to converse with.

  With the rising sun, Travis got them back on the road and headed east, then south, then east again once they intersected with Interstate 80.

  When the radio first crackled to life, Cassidy jumped because she wasn’t expecting it. When she heard it was Josh, she spoke the first complete sentence in a day’s time. “Stop, we have to stop!”

  “Josh, this is Rover One,” Travis replied, holding the handset.

  “Rover One, is that you? Oh my God, it’s so good to hear your voice,” Josh said.

  “It’s us. What’s your location? Over,” Travis asked.

  Cassidy was sitting upright, joyful that someone she had feared dead was alive and close by.

  “I’m hunkered down just outside of Sidney.”

  “Where’s that?” Travis asked.

  Bill spoke up. “It’s west of here, about eighty to a hundred miles.”

  “About fifty miles due east of Pine Bluffs.”

  “Copy that. I have to say, I can’t believe you’re alive,” Travis said.

  “Me either.”

  “We’re east of you, about eighty miles or so. Get on the 80 and head east. We’re just outside of…” Travis said but stopped short
of telling him exactly where.

  “Where?”

  Cassidy scrunched her face, confused at first why Travis didn’t give their specific location.

  “Just get on the 80, head east. We’ll meet you at the 120-mile marker,” Travis ordered.

  “Okay, heading your way.”

  Travis put the handset down and said, “I know that expression. I don’t know who else is listening. That mile marker is back a few miles; we’ll pull off the road here and take cover in that small grove of trees.”

  “Smart,” Cassidy replied.

  Bill and Tom helped Travis cut branches and cover the SUV and trailer. Travis knew this only helped to conceal them visually; if a drone were to fly over, they’d be able to spot them with thermal optics.