The Enoch Plague (The Enoch Pill Book 2)

by Matthew William

  “But you can trust me, is what I’m trying to say, I guess.”

  Kizzy couldn’t help but smirk. It wasn’t so long ago that she had pleaded for her life to this woman, only to be given a cold hard no.

  “And I want to be able to help you deal with everything.”

  “Like what?” Kizzy asked.

  “It seems like you have a lot on your plate and no one that’s on your side.”

  “Okay,” Kizzy said. “Why would you be on my side?”

  “I know what it’s like to feel as if the world is against you.”

  “I don’t feel like that,” Kizzy lied.

  The constable nodded and sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at the floor. “I had a child back before the plague. And something terrible happened to her. Something unspeakable. Now normally the men who did these things would be punished as harshly as the law allowed. But this particular man was rich, his family owned a construction business, and he was able to pay his way out of it and the court let him walk. I lost all faith in humanity after that. The law didn’t matter, no matter how badly my child had been hurt. I prayed that they would pay for what they did. And then the plague came. I used to think my prayer was answered...”

  The woman went quiet.

  “What do you think now?” Kizzy asked.

  Just then they heard the beeping of a horn coming from outside. Everyone ran to the living room to look out the window. Two bouncing tractor lights were pulling up to the farm.

  “It’s Clarice,” Ester said.

  “She doesn’t know,” the constable said, staring out at the woman in the tractor who smiled with complete ignorance to what the world’s condition had become in the past few hours. The mutants began to turn their attention towards her.

  “We have to get her,” Ester said, standing at the door, ready to run.

  “Would we be responsible if she died?” Meg asked, looking to the constable.

  The constable stared out the window with granite eyes. They didn’t know, but the constable had herself been responsible for the death of six women earlier that day. The thought of her world turned on its head must have been swirling around her mind. Now you know, Kizzy thought. Now you know the hell I’ve been living with.

  “Would we be at fault?” Meg asked.

  Ester didn’t wait for an answer. She pushed the couch out of the way of the door and ran out and towards the tractor waving her arms in the air. The mutants who had been marching towards the tractor became suddenly interested in the opened door. In a full-out sprint they came towards the house as if it was the golden treasure they’d been waiting their whole lives to find. God they were fast.

  “You forgot to close the door you idiot!” the grandmother shouted as she waddled across the kitchen.

  The creatures charged onto the porch. The grandmother closed the door a half second before a mutant bashed into it from the other side. She fell to the floor, as a mutant came barreling into the house and yelped in the living room for the others to join him. The grandmother cowered away from the beast, but it ran past her as if she wasn’t even there.

  Kizzy and the constable sprang down to the cellar. Ester, Clarice and Meg were cut off and had to run upstairs.

  In the basement Kizzy and the constable hid behind a couch. Above them they could see the wood sinking wherever the mutants stepped. The two other creatures joined the first in the kitchen.

  “Don’t they know we’re down here?” Kizzy asked.

  Without warning the mutants began to tear up the floorboards.

  Kizzy backed up to the corner of the room. A mutant glared at her through the hole he had made in the floor. The constable raised her shotgun and fired a shot. The pellets tore through the creature’s chest. The mutant just stared down at the wound, curiously.

  The hole in the floor was now large enough for even the enlarged men to climb through. Kizzy looked to a window at the far end of the room. Could she make a run for it? All of a sudden, the mutants stopped their growling. They seemed more tranquil somehow.

  Just then Kizzy could hear music playing faintly in the distance. The mutants began to look around, trying to find the source of the noise.

  The music grew louder, it was playing on speakers of some sort. It was a Banshee song. The mutants above them dropped the floorboards they were holding, clearly drawn towards the opened door. Out the window Kizzy could see a group of crows flapping their wings, hovering about 20 feet above the ground. In their talons they held a long thick black wire, suspended at the bottom of which was a large windup record player with a brass cone speaker that was playing music at full volume. Two mutants below were chasing the music down the street. The crows flew near the house and the mutants bumbled outside and followed the music out into the corn field.

  There was a loud car horn honking in the distance and coming closer. Kizzy looked up the road and to see a city police cruiser. It pulled up to the house. The police officer that gave her a ride that night two months ago was behind the wheel. Except now he was dressed in a bright orange prison jump suit. Josephine Yanloo hopped out the passenger side door and looked around.

  “Kizzy?” she shouted.

  “I’ve got to go,” Kizzy said to the constable.

  “Wait,” the constable pleaded.

  But Kizzy didn’t wait for a second. Up the stairs she went, out the back door and towards the car. She could hear the constable chasing after her.

  “You can’t go Kizzy,” the constable yelled behind her, waving her arms in the air. “Hey, you can’t take her!”

  “Kizzy, thank goodness!” Josephine exclaimed. “Get in the car.”

  Kizzy opened the door to the back seat and her heart skipped a beat when she saw Diego sitting there in the middle. She jumped at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He laughed as he hugged her back. When the door closed the police officer drove off in a cloud of dust, leaving the farm behind them.

  Kizzy looked back. The constable ran behind the car for a short while, but she grew smaller and smaller until she disappeared altogether. “How did you find me?” Kizzy asked finally, shaking away the whistling.

  “Hello Kizzy,” came a voice from the other side of Diego.

  Kizzy looked over and her jaw dropped when she saw the woman sitting on the other side of Diego.

  “Aunt Patty?” Kizzy asked, amazed she hadn’t seen her sitting there.

  Her hands were tied and her right arm was in a sling.

  “You two know each other?” Josephine asked.

  “Yeah she’s my aunt. Could you untie her please?”

  “Is that okay Leo?” Josephine asked the cop.

  “Just be careful with her arm,” Leo said.

  Diego went about carefully loosening the woman’s bindings.

  “Patty here lead us to the constable’s office and from there we were able to find the deputy’s address,” Josephine said. “We were just in time from the looks of it.”

  “How long do you think that record player bought us?” Leo asked.

  Josephine typed into her laptop and shook the cursor. “It’s destroyed.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah it’s trashed,” Josephine said flatly. “They’re coming after us now.”

  10

  The story of Devon

  Devon Feracci’s apartment was small and sparse with only two things out of the ordinary. Exhibit one, his Jack Russel terrier Anders which had just been fixed the week prior but continued to hump the couch pillow. Devon groaned and sprayed him with a bottle.

  “Just think about what you’re doing for one second.”

  The second was his computer set up which he had dubbed the control center. If the public had known about it, it would be considered the most advanced setup in the state.

  It was the night before finals and since he was older than all the other students he had to study twice as hard. That, or bribe his teachers twice as much.

  The TV was broadcasting the celebrations from all a
round the world over the fact that now even China and North Korea had accepted the Enoch Pill program and that their citizens too would be living forever. Just last month factories and distribution centers had been set up in the Amazon, Tibet, and throughout Oceania. Humanity had achieved something long thought an impossibility; 100% full coverage. Two weeks from now everyone on the planet would be on the Enoch Pill.

  The news showed stock footage of the genetically modified crows flying in formation over the Enoch bean fields, landing and flapping their wings to aid in the pollination, stock footage they had showed over and over for years now.

  “This is just funny,” the news anchor, Russel Beverly, said. “It’s the sort of thing you know, even while it’s happening, that you’re watching history. The day full coverage became possible. It’s a very exciting time. How soon before they’ll get their prescriptions?”

  “Two weeks,” the other anchor answered.

  “Again, as we can see here,” Russel Beverly continued, “the low bee population has required Unicorp scientists to genetically engineer crows to aid in the pollination of the Enoch plants. Another large step for man in directing his own evolution, overcome by human ingenuity, hand-in-hand with artificial intelligence.”

  Devon took an Enoch and washed it down with a real nice, real expensive scotch. He exhaled the malty fumes and tipped his glass to the TV.

  “Cheers,” he said to no one.

  The TV kept talking. “Space Travel was never going to be a viable option as long as we only lived 70-80 years. This finally opens things up for real exploration.”

  Devon tuned it out. Sci-fi wasn’t really his thing.

  The messenger on his computer began to ring. It was his brother. Devon sighed and answered.

  “What’s up?”

  “Hey, the tuition payment will be late this month,” his brother said, in that supposedly cool, detached way in which he always spoke.

  “Okay, I guess I can scrounge up the money to pay for It,” Devon said. “Somehow.”

  “Will you have enough for your rent too?”

  Damn. Devon had forgotten that was due this week as well.

  “Did you forget about it?”

  Devon could tell he was smiling as he asked that. “I’ve been doing a lot of studying lately.”

  “I guess that’s why mom always called you the smart one,” Francis said.

  He always referenced that quote from their mother because she always followed it up by calling Francis the good-looking one.

  “I guess so,” Devon said instead.

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “You’re too good to me,” Devon said.

  “What are you doing tonight?” his brother asked.

  Devon knew why he was asking. Francis really didn’t care what he was doing, he just wanted to make him feel inferior somehow.

  Devon looked around the empty apartment. “I’m having a party actually. I should probably get going, I’m neglecting my guests.”

  His brother could smell the lie. “Oh yeah? Is it a good one? I’ve got a date, we could swing by.”

  “No, no, no. It’s winding down now anyway,” Devon said, taking a sip of his scotch. “It’s finals week you know. Plus, this crowd really isn’t Evelyn’s type anyway. A lot of intellectuals and what not. Smart people... who can read.”

  “I’m not with Evelyn,” his brother said casually. “I’m with Lisa...” There was a pause. Devon could faintly hear a woman’s voice in the background. “What? Really? It’s Liza.”

  “You broke up with Evelyn?”

  “No, I’m just out with Liza tonight.”

  “How moral of you.”

  “You would know.”

  Devon hung up.

  There were times he was jealous of his brother, of his success and his money and his way with women. But the rest of the time Devon knew he was the superior person and everything his brother supposedly had on him were merely things stupid people cared about. Success, money, women. He considered inviting some people over, in case his brother really did show up. He could buy them beer and pizza, since that’s all they ever wanted. And he could watch them eat his stuff while he pondered what was going on in their minds. What kept them going on with their pointless lives? What did they fear now that death wasn’t waiting for them? Did they know they stood at the edge of an eternal void?

  What happened in people’s minds was something that always eluded Devon. People were a mystery to him. Their thoughts doubly so. And he hated feeling left out. He didn’t need beer and pizza to know that.

  The messenger on his computer began to ring again. Was his brother actually coming? No, this message was coming through his university dating profile. The picture of the caller was an attractive Asian woman. He liked attractive Asian women. Even so, he let it go to message. He never took calls from people he didn’t know.

  But she called again. She was determined this one. Devon looked at the time. He had nothing to lose by answering, it was probably just a wrong number anyway.

  “Hello, Devon here,” he said flatly.

  “Hey, um... I saw that you were listed on the university’s dating page,” she said, with a young and attractive voice.

  “Yes, I’m listed,” he said cautiously. This was suspicious. He had listed himself more or less on a lark, a lottery ticket he had no faith in ever winning. In essence, it was the least amount of work possible that one could do in order to get laid. Had his winning numbers come in?

  “I was wondering if I could get some help on an assignment.”

  That explained it. He never should have listed he was a computer sciences major. “I don’t do homework.”

  “It’s not that kind of assignment. It’s one that I don’t want to be in the public eye, if you know what I mean.”

  This seemed suddenly even more fishy.

  “I can make it worth your while,” she said.

  There was a tone in her voice that made his ears perk up. Albeit only halfway. “How so?”

  “I can get some of your grades improved.”

  That wasn’t what he had in mind. “I could pay my professors if that were a problem. And it isn’t a problem.”

  “What about funds to pay them off?”

  “Look, how do I know this isn’t being recorded or something.”

  “It’s an encrypted line.”

  Devon ran a quick diagnostic. He was almost surprised to find she was telling the truth.

  “If you think this is unethical,” she said, “then I totally understand.”

  “That’s not the issue,” Devon said, suddenly relaxed, knowing this call was off the record.

  “What’s the problem then?” she asked.

  Devon took another sip of his scotch and sighed. “No, it’s just... I don’t use this channel for other things.”

  “You mean I should have called you on your hacker channel?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Aren’t you a hacker?” the woman asked.

  Devon’s blood ran cold. She had somehow stumbled onto the identity he had always been so careful to conceal. He hung up.

  She called again. Her smiling profile picture seemed to be staring at him from the messenger program. Devon didn’t answer. She called again. He didn’t answer. She called again. There was a chance that ignoring her could only make things worse. And after all, she only knew that he was a hacker. She didn’t know which one. The fact that he had stolen files from the NSA the month prior was hardly common knowledge. Not yet anyway. The only safe way out was to push forward. He answered.

  “What do you want?” he snapped.

  “There are a lot of infractions here, Devon.”

  “What’s this all about?” he asked flatly.

  “You could be sent away for a long time.”

  “Is this about a job?”

  “Yes. One I think you’ll find quite intriguing.”

  Devon had made a habit of never letting anyone approach him directly for work.
Either he went the client himself or a previous client made the connection. Either way, there would be no one sneaking up on him. Taking this woman at her word was all sorts of risky.

  “Why did you decide to come to me through my dating profile?”

  “Do you know how long the que on your hacker channel is getting to be?” she asked. “Besides how else are two complete strangers supposed to interact for the first time? Sex is the great shortcut to honesty.”

  There was no malice in her voice, she was just stating things the way they were. Devon wondered if he should be nervous. Was she planning his demise? Or was she just some random woman who had happened to find out who he really was? Either way, he’d have to clean up whatever trail of crumbs she had found and come up with a new identity once this was all over.

  “So, are you interested?” she asked.

  She was lucky. If she hadn’t known his identity he would have hung up right then and there. And if she wasn’t good-looking he would have never thought about her again.

  “What’s the job?” he asked finally.

  “I need NYU’s tax information from last year.”

  “Wouldn’t that be public information?”

  “There is a public version of it,” she said. “I want the real thing.”

  “And what do I get for doing this?”

  “Ten thousand dollars.”

  He could pay his rent himself for a few months. Or let his brother pay and be ten thousand dollars richer. Still, the money wasn’t quite enough. There was something more on the table that he wanted.

  “Ten thousand dollars and you tell me how you found me,” he said, sitting back and crossing his arms.

  “Why would I give up my channel?”

  “Why would I let you keep it? If there’s a leak somewhere on my ship, I need to know.”

  “I’ll tell you when you deliver what I’m asking for.”

  “No delivery until you tell me.”

  “I can easily walk away from this and get another hacker no problem. And you’d still have the leaky ship.”

  Devon sighed. She held all the cards. “When do you want tax information?”

  “When can you have it?” she asked.

  “I could have it tomorrow to be honest with you.”

  “Then I would say that’s perfect.”