Condemn (BUNKER 12 Book 2)

by Tanpepper, Saul

  Then, at long last, Nami extracted himself. Jonathan collapsed to the ground, no longer able to fight. He began to pull himself over to a corner of the cage. Outside the wire the crowd seethed like a living thing, a single mindless organism, a shapeless parasite engulfing its prey.

  Nami began to move toward Jonathan, stepping jerkily, as if the monster inside of him still wasn't fully in control. It seemed to consider its old friend for a moment. And when it reached down, its hand hesitated for a moment. Then it turned its face toward the crowd and hissed.

  Everyone went silent. Everyone waited.

  "Do it!" someone whispered. "Touch him."

  The thing that had once been Nami twitched at the sound. It slid over the ground toward the crowd, then seemed perplexed when it couldn't go beyond the wire.

  "Touch the fucker! Do it!" a man screamed. He threw a handful of dirt. It hit Nami in the face and bounced off. More people picked up the chant: "Touch him! Touch him!"

  Finn knew the instant the change happened. He saw it take hold of Nami. The slack muscles quivered and tensed, turning to fury. His whole body seemed to expand, filling with rage. It growled.

  "Yes! Yes!" the crowd screamed. "Touch him!"

  The Nami-thing began to scramble about the cage, trying to get out, wanting to get out. Like a spider, it scrambled across the wire fencing, onto the mesh on top.

  The crowd came alive. "Touch him!" they chanted, pointing at Jonathan. But Nami seemed not to notice the man inside the cage at all.

  Not until Jonathan moved.

  In a flash, the Nami-thing was by his side. This time, it did not hesitate. It didn't reach out to touch him. It wasn't interested in spreading its disease to him anymore. Instead, it slammed its fist down through Jonathan's back, through spine and ribs alike. Blood spurted into the air, and the crowd backed away with an utterance of awe.

  "No!" Finn cried. He tried to reach the fence, but he was dragged away instead. The crowd swallowed him up, trampling him. It cheered and slapped him where he lay. All he could do was try not to be crushed beneath their feet.

  He covered his head, his face, his ears. But the noise couldn't mask the sounds that came to him from inside the cage, the snapping bones and the muscle torn away from them. He could not unhear Jonathan's shrieks of pain or the echoes of the manic cheers filling the barn.

  Neither Bix nor Finn struggled against their captors as they were returned to the underground chamber. Their shock and despair were too great, crushing even their will to survive.

  Finn barely remembered the long march through the woods back to the house. He knew night was drawing to an end, as he could see where to place his feet. And he remembered emerging into the clearing near the house to find the scene etched in the sterile metallic gray of pre-morning. The monochromic tone mirrored his emotions, cold and hard, colorless. He knew he should feel anger and fear, but his utter disbelief at the horrors he had witnessed smothered his ability to summon anything from within, much less a sense of urgency.

  He lay on the cool dirt floor in the absolute darkness, vaguely aware that someone was shaking him. He didn't care. He was dead, beyond dead. He was in some sort of living purgatory tormented by questions. He could feel them, worming their way into his mind, prying at the flimsy glue that held his sanity together. How could people do such horrific things to each other? How could people stand around and cheer?

  How could it be possible that Nami and Jonathan were there?

  And on the heels of that: Where was the rest of the group? Were they here, too, at the ranch? If so, where?

  He remembered a locked door at the far end of the animal barn. He'd thought it led outside, but now he wasn't so sure anymore.

  The shaking became more insistent. Hey, someone asked, what happened out there?

  The absolute darkness of their prison made a perfect canvas for Finn's worst imaginings. They were all dead— Bren and Hannah and Bix's father and . . . . All of them. They had been turned into Wraiths.

  He could picture Bren in some dark room, just like this one, terrified. Where was she? Had they killed her? Had she been made into one of them?

  Finn cowered deeper inside of himself, ashamed of what he'd done, bringing them all out into this terrible world. The bunker had been safer, even with that murderer inside.

  Snap out of it!

  His head rocked to the side from the force of the slap, and like a sudden flash of light piercing his eyes, he rose up out of his stupor. It wasn't like coming to the surface of a deep lake as it was an abrupt thawing, or an explosion of air entering what had been a vacuum.

  He gasped and pushed himself upright again, coughing and heaving.

  "What did they do to you up there?" Byron asked.

  Finn couldn't see the man, but he could feel and smell his rancid breath on his face, could feel the grip of his hands on his arms as he shook him. He turned to the side, pushing Byron away.

  "B-bix?"

  "Answer me! What the hell did they do to you?"

  Somewhere in the darkness, on the other side of the room, someone wept.

  Finn pushed Byron aside again. "Bix? Bix, is that you? I can't find you."

  "That's my son," Byron said, still gripping Finn's arm. "He's scared."

  "Where's Bix? Did they take him?"

  "F-finnnn . . . ?"

  He spun his head to the left. "Bix?"

  "I can't . . . " There was a groan, and Finn tried once more to move toward the sound of the voice.

  "That's not him, either," Byron said, and pulled him back. "Bix is over there, on the other side."

  "Finnnn . . . ."

  Confusion wrapped its iron fingers around his mind. If Bix was to the right, then who was to the left?

  Jones. Or Jonah.

  There was a slow, dry hiss, the sound of air passing through swollen lips and the rustle of a body trying to move.

  "Who are you?"

  "Finn, it's me," the man said. "D-danny."

  * * *

  News trickled out of Danny like tree sap, coming slowly a drop at a time. Finn had to be patient, and between careful sips of the precious few ounces of water Byron and the boys had saved from the last time they'd been fed, Danny told them what had become of the other survivors.

  Allison had died. He and Jonah had been marooned in an empty town overnight during the same attack. The bus had tried to draw the Wraiths away, only to be attacked again. They'd been rescued. The survivors were taken to some old army base.

  "They were lucky," Danny said, his weakness leaking out of him as slowly and steadily as the information.

  He told Finn how a couple men had returned on motorcycles to find them. "Jonah warned me not to talk to them, not to share any details. He didn't trust them, though he didn't explain why. He was right."

  "Where's Jonah now?"

  "Dead. Ramsay broke the bike." His body shook. "He left them out in the desert to die."

  Finn realized the man was crying. "Tell me what happened."

  "He bragged about it, Ramsay did. He said Jonah would ruin everything."

  "Ruin what?"

  "I don't know. He tortured me, Finn. He wanted to know where we'd come from and if there were more of us there. I tried not to say anything, but he . . . he burned me."

  "What did you tell him?"

  "Everything," Danny sobbed. "The dam. The bunker. The people inside. He promised to let me go. I couldn't help it, Finn! It hurt so bad!"

  "Shh, okay. Listen, Danny, it's okay. We'll figure it out. But first we need to get out of here."

  "H-how?"

  "Byron's working on it."

  "These other hinges won't budge," Byron said from the direction of the door. "I worked on them the whole time you were gone."

  Finn went over to Bix. It took a long time to elicit any kind of coherent response from him. He seemed to be aware, he just didn't seem able to move until Finn grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.

  "We need to get out of here, Bix! Before we
end up like—"

  He stopped himself, not wanting to say the names of their dead colleagues.

  "We need to get that door off. Do you think you can help Byron with it? Bix?"

  "Y-yes."

  "Good." He returned to Danny and asked how he'd gotten here.

  "Private Ramsay. When he was finished with me, he turned me over to some men. They brought me in the back of a pickup truck. I tried to escape. That's when they beat me. They—" He choked back a sob.

  "What, Danny? What about them?"

  "They said they were going to sell me, like a slave. Said they'd already sold others. Except for the women and girls. They were going to—"

  "No." Finn didn't want to hear.

  "Why? Why are they doing this?"

  "Tell him," Bix said. His voice sounded hollow. "Tell him about Nami and Jonathan. What they did to them."

  "Nami?" Danny asked. "Jonathan? You saw them? They're here?"

  "They were," Finn whispered, and he silently cursed Bix for speaking out. Danny didn't need to hear this right now. He was too close to slipping away, and if they were going to get out, they all needed to focus. "They were brought here. They died last night."

  "Died? How? Did they beat them, too?"

  "I don't think so."

  "But Nami wasn't hurt that bad during the Wraith attack. And Jonathan was getting better."

  "Better?"

  "The flu. He was never vaccinated. But they gave him antibiotics."

  Finn was silent for several minutes. He hadn't wanted to tell Danny what had happened overnight, but now he felt compelled to. "I couldn't understand why Nami wasn't interested in Jonathan after he was infected, but I have an idea. Remember what Seth Abramson said about the things in our bodies?"

  "The nano things?"

  "Nanites," Finn corrected. "Tiny machines in our blood. He implied that they were somehow connected to the Flense."

  "Yeah, but he didn't say how. And he also didn't explain how they got into all of us."

  "I thought I knew. I thought it might've been the shots at the evacuation center, and that they made us susceptible to the infection."

  "Except the Flense was worldwide and happened before we got those shots."

  "Yes. But remember, Seth said the government had authorized broad distribution of the nanites, he just didn't explain how. I now think it was the flu immunizations. The nanites must have been in them. If Jonathan was never immunized, he was nanite-free. I think it's why Nami wasn't interested in touching him. He was immune."

  "Nanites in the vaccine? The government wouldn't—"

  "What? They forced everyone to receive it, Danny. Remember? Not just us, but everyone everywhere all over the world. If you didn't get the shot, you couldn't work or go to school. You couldn't travel."

  "Millions were dying from the flu. Hundreds of millions. They were trying to control the spread. It's not because of the shots! It can't be."

  "Finn, we don't know if Jonathan was immune at all," Bix said from the other side of the room. "Maybe it was the electrical shock—"

  "It wasn't."

  "Then how do you explain Billy?" Bix quietly asked. "He touched one, and he wasn't infected."

  "The wound on his leg."

  "Excuse me?"

  "The wound on his leg means he doesn't have those nanites in his body, either. He was injured before Adrian got the cut on his forehead. And yet Adrian is almost healed. And remember what Jennifer told us about Luke and Billy, how they take forever to heal? Thing is, they don't heal slower, they just heal normal. It's everyone else who heals faster."

  "Let me get this straight," Byron interrupted. "You're saying anyone immune to the flu is sensitive to the Flense. And anyone sensitive to the flu is immune to the Flense?"

  "Yes."

  "I was never vaccinated," Bix said.

  Finn had suspected as much. Doc Cavanaugh had told him that the nanites weren't in Bix's blood. "It's just a theory," he warned. "It doesn't mean anything until we can prove it."

  The three of them worked at the hinges for several more hours, switching places when their hands cramped or grew too tired. But the top and bottom pins simply wouldn't budge.

  Danny attempted to help, but though his recovery seemed extraordinarily rapid — which Bix saw as more proof of Finn's theory — he remained weak and sore.

  They had just about given up in frustration when Bix heard the outer door being thrown open. He hurried down the stairs before the inner door could be unlocked.

  Once again, the light that spilled down blinded them. Something heavy tumbled down the steps wrapped in a burlap sack. This was accompanied by Luke's laughter.

  From further out, Billy shouted at them with considerably less humor. "Y'all better enjoy yer last bit of daylight," he growled, "cause soon y'all are gonna be the main attraction."

  Then the door slammed shut, and darkness and silence swept over them.

  "What do you think he meant by that?" Bix asked.

  No one answered. It seemed obvious enough.

  "Well, I don't mind being the main attraction," he went bravely on, though his voice shook. "Now, how about we see what they got us."

  "Don't touch it," Finn warned. "Bix, don't!"

  "Too late. I'm already on it."

  They could hear him moving about and mumbling to himself as he tried to figure out what was in the sack.

  "Those idiots tie knots like kindergartners. And . . . it's food. Smells okay."

  "Food?" Charlie asked, and scurried over from where he and his little brother were sitting.

  Jerry hadn't spoken a single word the entire time Finn and Bix had been down there, and he still didn't. Finn couldn't help wondering what the boy's issue might be, but he didn't want to pry.

  "What kind of food?"

  The last meal kind, Finn thought. He didn't say it out loud.

  "Roast beef. Baked potatoes. All cold, of course." Bix took a deeper sniff and groaned. "Ugh. It might be spoiled."

  Finn's stomach rebelled. This seemed especially cruel.

  "Well, beggars can't be whiners."

  "Don't eat it, Bix. You'll get sick."

  "I don't care. I'm starving. And there's plastic bottles of something." He shook one. "Sounds like something to drink."

  "We had all better eat," Byron said. "We need to keep up our strength."

  "Mm, yeah, go ahead," Bix said around a mouthful. "There's enough for everyone."

  The roast did smell a little off, but it didn't taste bad. Finn ate what he could, and within a few minutes, he felt his strength returning.

  The liquid in the bottles turned out to be water. It also tasted all right, though he was glad he couldn't see it. He'd bet it was probably from the lake.

  The food sat like a lead weight in Finn's stomach. He felt like puking. The thought of what was waiting for them above sickened him. He went to Bix and asked how he was doing. He could hear his friend breathing funny— short, rapid breaths. "You going to be sick?"

  "No." But he sounded like he might. "I . . . . Listen, Finn, no matter what happens, I want you to know it's okay. This was my choice."

  "You'd still have been in danger, even if you'd stayed on the bus. I'm glad you're here with me."

  "That's . . . not what I meant, but okay. I was talking about tonight."

  "What about tonight?"

  "What you said earlier."

  "About what?"

  The inner door slammed open, surprising them all. Finn instinctively shielded his eyes.

  "Everyone against the back wall!" Luke shouted down at them. "Y'all try anything, I'll pump yer ass full of lead. Now move!"

  The prisoners joined Danny along the far wall. It was the first chance Finn had to look at everyone's face. The bruising around Danny's eyes and the amount of dried blood that had soaked into his clothes shocked him.

  "Time fer asking forgiveness of yer trespasses!" Luke said, descending the steps. "Time fer damnation or salvation."

  "Now, let's n
ot get ahead of ourselves," Adrian interjected, following on his heels.

  Billy came last, still clearly limping. All three held semiautomatic weapons in their hands instead of the stun guns. Finn eyed them warily.

  "You!" Luke said, pointing at Danny. "On yer feet."

  "He's hurt!" Finn objected. He pushed himself off the floor, but Billy stepped forward, moving fast despite the wound, and slammed the stock of his rifle into Finn's face. He crumpled to the dirt.

  "Damn it, Billy!" Adrian cried. "I told y'all to keep yer wits!" He sighed and shook his head. "Pull him up!"

  Luke went over to Danny and yanked him to his feet, the muzzle of the rifle digging into his side.

  "He cain't barely walk," Adrian growled in frustration. "I told them people not to bring me them half dead."

  "You don't have to do this," Finn said from the ground. The hit hadn't broken skin, but he could feel the side of his face swelling up already. His jaw ached.

  "What should we do, boss?" Luke asked.

  Adrian studied the huddled group for a moment, scratching his chin on his arm.

  Billy pointed at Byron. "What about him? They been in here the longest."

  "The blind man?" Adrian said, laughing derisively. "Another waste. Wouldn't have much of a sporting chance. No, we'll save him and the boys fer somethin else. I got to think what, though." He swung around again and pointed at Finn. "Take him."

  "No!" Bix jumped up and slammed his body into Adrian, driving him across the room. The two lost their footing and went crashing against the wall.

  Charlie tried to jump up to help, but Byron held him back, hissing for him to sit tight. Finn struggled to stand, but the room was still spinning.

  "Get yer ass offa him!" Luke growled. He kicked Bix in the side. Bix cried out and crumpled to the floor, coughing and groaning and clutching his stomach.

  "You rotten stinking bastard," Bix spat. "You're an abomination!"

  "He's got some fire!" Luke said with glee.

  "I don't care, I want him!" Adrian shouted, still pointing at Finn.