by Randy Henson
Moira shook her head and said, “This isn’t a government sanctioned compound. The Columbia Compound was at the Civic Center, I was there, but a riot like the one at your New Orleans’s Compound broke out. That’s when we survivors came here.”
“Oh.”
Moira placed the last piece of bacon into her mouth and wiped grease off her hands with a paper towel before she said, “Do you have any theories as to what has caused these riots?”
I shook my head and said, “No. All the Category Fives just seem to go berserk at the same time. I have wondered, but I have no idea. Do you?”
Moira frowned and got a sad look on her face.
Then she nodded and said, “I’m afraid I do. I fear it’s one of us. Or more than one of us.”
“One of us? How? Why?”
“The ‘how’ you will understand once your powers have developed. The ‘why’ I hope you never understand. I don’t understand it myself, but some people just go insane when they have too much power, they go mad with it.”
I felt my face flush as my blood began to boil. The idea that someone, an individual, was responsible for all those horrible deaths, for my parents’ deaths, was more than I could accept. I shook my head as if I was trying to shake the very idea out of my head.
Moira sighed and said, “I know. I don’t want to believe it either, but I know there are people out there that are that evil. I’ve seen what they have done before the outbreak, and I have no reason to believe that this virus has wiped out that evil.”
“But how could they possibly do that, control all those people like that?”
“Again, once your powers have developed you’ll know how.”
I noticed I was clinching my hands into fists so hard that my nails were cutting into my palms.
I stared into Moira’s good eye and said, “Then we have to find them. We have to stop them.”
“All in good time, my dear. First you have to grow stronger and you have to learn. You have to be ready.”
I nodded. I was ready to learn.
I was ready to learn everything.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Corporal Morgan brought the walkie-talkie down from his face as he turned to Colonel Lundy and said, “Sir, choppers are inbound.”
“Good. Can you have one of them land right here?” Lundy said as he pointed at his feet.
Morgan looked around the cinema house’s roof and quickly decided there was enough landing space. Then he said, “Yes, sir,” and turned as he brought the walkie-talkie back up to his cheek.
Lieutenant Hale looked at Lundy and asked, “What are you thinking, sir?”
“I’m thinking we need to go check that out,” Lundy said as he pointed toward the mushroom cloud in the distance.
“Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean, what if you’re wrong and it is radioactive?” Dr. Nichols said.
“Then prepare to be bleeding from your nose and ears,” Lundy said.
“Uh…”
Lundy smirked and said, “Don’t worry, Doctor. It’s not radioactive. And if it is, the equipment on the helicopter will warn us and not let us get too close.”
“And I suspect you want me to go with you,” Dr. Nichols said.
“Oh, Doctor. I don’t want you leaving my side,” Lundy said.
“Yeah, I was afraid of that.”
“Come on, Doctor. You don’t want to live forever, do you?” Lundy asked.
“I don’t believe I have that option. I wouldn’t mind seeing tomorrow, though.”
Lundy gave a short laugh and asked, “Tell me, Doctor, do you believe in God?”
Nichols flinched. Did he just ask me if I believe in God? That was the last question he expected Colonel Lundy to ask him.
“God, sir?”
“Yes, God.”
“I’m a scientist, sir.”
“Plenty of scientists believe in God.”
“Not this one. I guess you’d call me an atheist.”
Lundy turned to Hale and asked, “How about you, Lieutenant?”
Hale frowned and said, “Permission to speak freely?”
“I believe the question pretty much begs it.”
“I think you’re asking the wrong question, sir.”
Lundy’s eyes narrowed and he said, “What do you mean, Lieutenant?”
Hale pointed at the mushroom cloud and said, “If I can use that as a metaphor, pondering whether or not there is a God is like asking whether or not a bomb will explode if you move it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m saying you should assume the bomb will explode if you move it, so spend your energy pondering whether or not it needs to be moved.”
“Damn it, Hale, quit talking in riddles. Just answer the question,” Lundy said.
“Yes, I believe in God. It’s a safe assumption. My question is whether or not he’s on our side.”
Nichols grunted and said, “Amen.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Moira sipped her tea as I pondered all that she had told me. I had thought that my parents’ deaths had been an accident, a freak occurrence, just some bad luck. Now, according to Moira, it looked like my parents may have been murdered.
I reached for my cup of coffee.
Actually, I didn’t.
I had only thought about reaching for it, and it slid across the table toward my hand. I jumped back and reflexively pulled my hand away as the coffee cup slid off the table and shattered on the floor, splashing coffee onto the bottom right leg of my jeans.
I looked from the shattered cup to Moira.
Moira looked surprised, holding her teacup out in front of her. She had been in the process of setting the teacup down on the table. She looked as if she had been frozen in time. It was like I was looking at a snapshot of her.
“Did you do that?” I asked her.
She slowly began to shake her head from side to side, destroying the illusion that I was looking at a statue or a photograph, and said, “No, I didn’t. I think you did.”
“Me?”
Moira stopped shaking her head and began nodding it up and down.
“Were you thinking about picking it up?” she asked.
I looked back down at the floor, at the shattered cup, and nodded.
“Well,” she said.
I looked back up at her and asked, “Well, what? Can you do that? Can you move things just by thinking about it?”
“No, I can’t.”
“Do you know anyone who can?”
Moira slowly nodded and said, “Yes, Matthew, my grandson. He doesn’t move around cups of coffee, though.”
That was when the gunfire erupted.
Moira and I jerked our heads toward the escalators.
The two armed guards that were stationed at the escalators turned and ran down them. One of them was talking rapidly into a walkie-talkie as he and his partner descended. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, though.
I stood up and said, “That sounded like it came from inside.”
Moira stood as well and said, “Come. We need to retreat to my room. Joseph will come for us there.”
I shook my head and said, “No, I have to find my brother.”
“No, look at me Bernice. Your brother is fine. He will be alright. So will your friend Orin. They are with Molly.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just know. I dreamed about this. I didn’t know it was going to happen this soon, though. You have to trust me. We have to get to my room before Joseph does.”
I stared at Moira for a moment. She looked desperate but certain. I felt torn. My instincts told me to find my brother, but they also told me to listen to Moira.
I finally nodded and said, “Okay, let’s go.”
I walked around the table and reached for Moira’s arm to help her. To my surprise she grabbed my wrist and pulled me across the mall’s food court and toward Macy’s.
I had no idea she could move as fast as she did. I would have been fas
ter on my own, of course, but still. She sure could hustle for an old lady.
Some people who had been eating breakfast at the food court hurried past us. Some stopped and offered to help me with Moira, but she waved them off and told them to get to their cubicles.
We made it to the back of Macy’s and pushed ourselves through the double glass doors that led to the administration’s offices, offices that had been converted into bedrooms for the sick and the very elderly.
We reached the end of a hall and entered Moira’s sleeping quarters. Once inside, Moira closed the door behind us and locked it.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
“We wait.”
“For what?”
“We wait for Joseph. He should be here shortly,” Moira said.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Molly turned and waited for Jack and Orin.
Jack and Orin jumped down off the merry-go-round.
“Come on. You guys are slow,” Molly said.
“What’s your hurry, kid?” Jack said.
“We’re not slow. We’re just not eight years old and hopped up on pancake syrup,” Orin said.
Molly rested her palms on her hips and said, “I’m not eight! I’m eleven!”
“You can’t be eleven. I got a niece that’s twelve and she’s like twice your size,” Orin said.
“I’ll be eleven next month,” Molly said.
“So that means you’re ten,” Jack said.
Molly stuck her tongue out at them. Then she turned and stomped away.
Orin picked up his pace and said, “Hey, hold up a minute, kid. We’re just teasing you a little.”
Jack followed and said, “I’m not. She looks eight.”
Orin turned and flashed Jack a frown.
Molly stopped and turned and said, “And my name’s not Kid. It’s Molly.”
Orin held his palms up as he walked toward her and said, “Okay, Molly. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“Granny said I’d get my growth spurt any day now,” Molly said.
“Of course you will. It’s inevitable,” Orin said.
“It’s what?” Molly asked.
Orin stopped and looked down at her and said, “Inevitable. That means your granny is right. You’ll get your growth spurt any day now.”
Jack stopped shoulder to shoulder with Orin and said, “Sure, Molly. You’ll get sore boobs and pimples any day now. It’ll be great.”
Then gunfire erupted from the other side of the galleria and all three of them jumped.
Orin instinctively pulled his pistols from the back waistband of his jeans as Jack scooped up Molly and started running away from the gunfire.
“What are you doing?!” Molly yelled.
“Damn, kid, not in my ear,” Jack said.
“Put me down!”
“When we’re safe,” Jack said.
“We should have gone back into the merry-go-round. That’s the safest place,” Molly said.
Crap, Jack thought, the kid was probably right.
“Why are you slowing down? Move it!” Orin yelled as he jabbed Jack’s left shoulder with a pistol.
Jack picked up his pace.
Orin threw looks over his shoulder as he followed on Jack’s heels.
“Where are we going?” Jack asked.
“The wrong way!” Molly yelled.
“What did I say about the yelling?” Jack said.
“Duck in here. On our left,” Orin said as he pulled up parallel with Jack and motioned towards a furniture store.
Jack carried Molly into the store and stopped.
“What now?” Jack asked as he turned toward Orin.
Orin had stopped just inside the doorway and was peeking out into the mall.
“Put me down!”
“Okay, but you have to hold my hand,” Jack said.
“Fine.”
Jack put her down and she grabbed his left thumb with her right hand.
“I don’t hear anything. Maybe it was a misfire,” Orin said.
“That was two guns. No way that was a misfire,” Jack said.
Orin turned and looked at Jack and asked, “You heard two guns?”
Jack nodded.
Molly nodded, too, and said, “He’s right. It was two bangs and six pops.”
“Yeah, it sounded like a pistol followed by an automatic,” Jack said.
“If you two say so,” Orin said and then turned to look back out into the galleria’s thoroughfare.
“Maybe it was an intruder and one of the guards got him,” Jack suggested.
“There not supposed to get in without permission. There are guards on the roof,” Molly said.
Orin turned back to them and said, “You two stay here. I’m going to go check it out.”
“That sounds like a bad idea to me, man” Jack said.
Molly nodded agreement and said, “A really bad idea.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Colonel Lundy sat up front next to the helicopter’s pilot, Captain Peterson.
Lieutenant Hale and Dr. Nichols sat in the back with Sergeant Rogers and four soldiers from his platoon.
“We’re not reading any radiation, Colonel,” Dr. Nichols said as he stared down at the Geiger counter he held in his hands.
“I told you we wouldn’t. Good to know, though,” Lundy said.
“I can’t believe that wasn’t an atomic blast. Look at all that destruction,” Dr. Nichols said.
Everyone was looking out the helicopter’s windows at the devastation. Downtown Columbia was a wasteland. Any buildings that were left standing looked like half finished clay sculptures molded by children in an elementary school art class. The destruction was total.
“I’m picking up heat signatures. Colonel,” the pilot said.
“Unbelievable. Take us there,” Lundy said.
“How is that even possible? How could anyone survive a blast like this?” Lieutenant Hale said.
“Doesn’t seem possible,” Dr. Nichols agreed.
“My instruments don’t lie. At least they haven’t yet,” Peterson assured them.
Sergeant Rogers pointed out the front windshield and said, “Look. Down there. There’s movement. Vehicles it looks like.”
“Got it,” Lundy said as he noticed a small caravan of vehicles rolling through the streets, veering around rubble.
“Over there. That looks like a baseball diamond. I could land us there, sir,” Peterson said.
“Do it,” Lundy said.
“Wait, we’re landing? Why are we landing?” Dr. Nichols asked.
“Recon,” Hale said.
“Who?”
Lundy turned in his seat to look at Dr. Nichols and said, “Reconnaissance, Doctor. In this game, information is king. We need to know what happened here. Whoever is down there might be able to tell us. We’re not going to learn anything from up here.” He then turned back around in his seat.
“What if they don’t feel like it? What if they’re hostiles?” Dr. Nichols asked.
Hale looked at Dr. Nichols and said, “Again, Doctor, we always assume everyone is hostile. That’s why we carry guns.”
“I don’t have a gun,” Dr. Nichols said.
“Do you know how to shoot one?” Hale asked.
Dr. Nichols shook his head ‘no’.
Lundy turned his head and said, “Don’t worry, Doctor. You’ll be okay. You’ll stay here with the helicopter.”
“What if the helicopter is attacked?”
Lundy nodded toward the pilot and said, “Anything happens, Peterson will get you out of here.”
Peterson lowered the helicopter onto the middle of the baseball diamond.
Dr. Nichols looked out the window and assumed that the rubble on the other side of the field was what was left of a high school or maybe a junior college.
Colonel Lundy unbuckled his seatbelt and said, “Rogers, have one of your men stay with the chopper. The rest will come with us. Everyone keep your eyes peeled
. We don’t know what we’re walking into.”
Hale unbuckled his seatbelt and slid the helicopter’s side door open as everyone except Dr. Nichols and Peterson unbuckled their seatbelts.
“Corporal, go up front with the captain and help him keep a look out,” Sergeant Rogers commanded.
“Yes, Sarge.”
Lundy opened his door and got out as the others hopped out of the back.
Corporal Morgan duck walked passed Dr. Nichols to the front of the helicopter and took the seat Lundy had just vacated.
“Double time it soldiers. That caravan should be passing by us from the east any moment now,” Lundy said before turning and sprinting toward first base.
Everyone followed Lundy as he sprinted across the infield and hopped the ballpark’s fence.
Lundy crouched behind a pile of rubble on the side of the road and brought his binoculars up to his face.
Rogers motioned two of his soldiers to cross the road and set up in a flanking position. He and his other soldier ran fifty yards down the road and crouched behind a twisted pile of metal that had once been a Mercedes.
Hale crouched down beside his colonel and asked, “See anything?”
“No, shouldn’t be long now though. Wait, I got something.”
Hale brought a hand up to his brow to shield his eyes and he saw flashes in the distance, sunshine reflecting off metal.
“I see them,” Hale said.
“Yeah, heading right this way. I’m only counting three vehicles, though. I counted eight from the air.”
“You thinking they split up, sir?”
“Had to have.”
Hale lowered his hand and looked around and said, “If this wasn’t nuclear, what do you think, sir? MOAB, maybe?”
“Maybe. If it wasn’t a Mother Of All Bombs, it was a son or daughter at least.”
“Who would have access to this kind of weaponry?” Hale wondered out loud.
“Good question, Lieutenant. We’re the only ones who are supposed to.”
Hale squint back down the road at the approaching vehicles and said, “They’re moving pretty slow.”
