H7N9: The Complete Series [Books 1-3]

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H7N9: The Complete Series [Books 1-3] Page 33

by Campbell, Mark


  Teddy’s eyes widened.

  Jane.

  Danny.

  Teddy pulled down the train’s window shade and looked away as a few stray tears ran out of his eyes. He dug his nails into the seat’s armrests as he gripped them tightly.

  “What’s wrong?” Ein asked as he looked over at him.

  “Nothing,” Teddy quickly replied without opening his eyes. He relaxed his grip and let go of the armrests. “I’ve just had enough of this.”

  “Enough of what?”

  “This,” Teddy said with emphasis.

  Ein frowned and went back to glancing around the train car.

  “I’m telling you that this is all fucked,” Ein said, scratching the back of his neck.

  “I imagine it’ll be over soon enough,” Teddy muttered. He wiped the tears away, sniffled, and slowly opened his eyes as he regained his composure. “Just sit still and calm down.”

  An elderly man in his early seventies seated two rows in front of Teddy and Ein slowly got on his feet. His wrinkly skin was pale, sunburnt, and his bald head had a patch of wispy white hair wrapped around the sides. A bushy white mustache covered his upper lip. He adjusted his scratched eyeglasses and looked around, squinting.

  “I saw him back at the stadium too,” Ein whispered. “It’s hard to believe that gramps survived all of this.”

  Teddy thought his old friend Maurice and frowned.

  “Tougher generation,” Teddy simply replied.

  The elderly man stepped away from his seat and started limping down the aisle.

  The other passengers watched him, curious.

  “Where’s the old man going?” Ein asked. “Those fucking cops were pretty adamant about staying in the seat.”

  Suddenly, a FEMA officer stepped through the door that led into the next car.

  “Get back in your seat!” the FEMA officer ordered.

  The elderly man adjusted his glasses and squinted as he tried to see the officer.

  “Are you deaf or just stupid?” the FEMA officer asked angrily. He brandished his rifle towards the man. “Return to your seat! Now!”

  The elderly man continued to limp towards him.

  The others on the train looked down and kept quiet.

  Teddy closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

  Not my problem, he thought. Not my fight.

  After all, that was how he survived so long behind the prison walls.

  He kept his head low and didn’t get involved in other people’s drama.

  “Please, I just have to use the restroom,” the elderly man told the officer. “I have a bad prostate and I’ve been holding it in… I don’t want to cause any trouble…”

  “If you don’t want trouble then get back to your seat!” the FEMA officer shouted. He pointed the rifle at the man and stepped towards him. “This is your last warning!”

  “Come on, man, that isn’t right,” Ein said. “Just let him go. He’s not going to jump off the train.”

  “Shut up, punk!” the FEMA officer screamed at Ein with wild eyes. “Mind your business or I’ll throw your ass off of here!”

  Teddy opened his eyes and looked at the officer.

  The FEMA officer didn’t have a respirator on. He was wearing an all-black uniform with FEMA patches, a riot helmet, and a ballistic vest that had POLICE written on it in yellow letters. His eyes darted anxiously around the train.

  Teddy noticed that the officer looked very young and even though he was the one who had the gun, he looked more terrified than the passengers for some reason. The guy’s hands were shaking and his cheeks were red.

  The elderly man kept limping forward.

  “I said GET BACK!” the FEMA officer screamed. He spun his rifle around and slammed the butt of the rifle against the man’s chest.

  The elderly man went tumbled backwards in the middle of the aisle and his glasses flew off of his face.

  Other passengers gasped.

  “Hey!” Ein exclaimed. He quickly stood up. “You don’t have to do all–”

  “Say one more word and I’ll shoot you dead, punk!” the FEMA officer barked as he pointed his rifle at Ein. “Sit down!”

  Jane’s final words echoed in Teddy’s head: There is still good out there and if that’s not worth fighting for then I don’t know what is.

  Something inside of him sprung to life.

  “Enough!” Teddy shouted as he rose to his feet.

  Teddy balled his fists and stepped out into the aisle.

  The FEMA officer’s eyes widened and he quickly pointed his weapon towards Teddy.

  “Stay back!” the FEMA officer ordered as he took a step back. “I will shoot you if you do not sit back down!”

  “Look at what you’re doing!” Teddy said, ignoring his orders. He furrowed his brows and pointed down at the elderly man. “You’re beating up a geriatric and pointing your gun at a kid!” He paused and shook his head. “Jesus fucking Christ! We’re already your prisoners – you have us right where you want us. What harm is letting the old man take a piss? What is he going to do? Jump out of the bathroom window? Blow up the locomotive?” He pointed down at the aisle. “Or would you rather he piss all over this fucked up relic from the eighties?”

  “I’m not telling you again!” the FEMA officer warned as he closed one eye and aimed the weapon’s iron sights at Teddy’s head. “Sit down!”

  Teddy scoffed.

  “What are you going to do? Shoot me?” Teddy asked sarcastically. He held out his arms and stuck out of his chest. “Go ahead! Shoot me then! This is all a goddamn mockery anyway.”

  The young FEMA officer stuck his finger around the trigger and started to–

  Suddenly, the door at the rear of the car slid open and an older FEMA officer entered. His uniform bore lieutenant insignias and he wore a black military cap instead of a helmet. His face was leathery and stubble covered his chin. He furrowed his salt-and-pepper brows and looked at the unfolding scene with annoyance.

  “O’Brian, what in the hell is going on in here?” he asked with a sigh.

  The younger FEMA officer startled and moved his finger off of the trigger.

  “Lieutenant Hock,” O’Brian said with surprise. “This civilian refused a direct order to return to his seat!”

  Lt. Hock gave another sigh and shook his head. He pointed down at the elderly man lying in the aisle.

  “And what about him?” Lt. Hock asked.

  O’Brian blinked, lowered his rifle, and looked down at the man.

  The elderly man was groaning in pain and struggling to get back up.

  “He refused my order as well,” O’Brian explained.

  “So what were you going to do, shoot both of them?” Lt. Hock asked.

  “Well, uh…” O’Brian’s face turned red with embarrassment.

  “Christ son, lower your weapon before you accidently shoot me in the process,” Lt. Hock ordered.

  “Yes, sir,” O’Brian replied as quickly slung his rifle back over his shoulder and wiped the sweat off of his forehead.

  Teddy lowered his arms and turned towards the lieutenant.

  “The man just had to use the bathroom,” Teddy explained.

  “Is that true, O’Brian?” Lt. Hock asked.

  “That’s what he claimed,” O’Brian stammered. “But the orders I were given stated that–”

  “Use some common sense!” Lt. Hock interrupted. “If you don’t start thinking on your feet then you’re not going to make it very long in my work detail, son.” He paused and rubbed his forehead. “Help the old man up, escort him to the restroom, and then take him back to his seat. Understand?”

  “Sir, yes, sir!” O’Brian shouted back as he snapped a salute.

  O’Brian crouched down and helped the elderly man get back up on his feet.

  “As for you,” Lt. Hock said, pointing at Teddy. “Go sit back down.”

  “In a moment,” Teddy replied.

  Teddy walked down the aisle, bent over, and picked up
the elderly man’s glasses.

  O’Brian tensed up and placed one hand on a holstered pistol.

  Teddy stepped towards O’Brian, glared at him, and handed the elderly man back his glasses.

  “Thank you…” the elderly man replied in a brittle voice.

  Teddy nodded, gave O’Brian one last dirty look, and then returned back to his seat.

  Ein watched with disbelief and admiration.

  O’Brian took his hand off the butt of his pistol and escorted the elderly man along the aisle and through the door without saying a word.

  Teddy sat with his arms crossed over his chest, frowning.

  After O’Brian was gone, Lt. Hock walked down the aisle and stopped next to Teddy’s seat.

  Lt. Hock stared down his nose at Teddy, but Teddy didn’t look over at him.

  “What’s your name?” Lt. Hock asked.

  “Teddy Sanders.”

  “Teddy Sanders…” Lt. Hock repeated. “Where we’re going, I suggest that you get better at following orders, Teddy Sanders.”

  “I was never very good at following orders,” Teddy sneered.

  Lt. Hock gave a devilish grin.

  “Then it sounds like you and I are going to be seeing a lot of each other,” Lt. Hock said. “I’ll see you around, Teddy Sanders.”

  Lt. Hock glanced over at Ein and looked at him with disgust.

  Ein kept his eyes fixated at the seat in front and didn’t dare look up.

  Lt. Hock scoffed, adjusted his duty belt, and walked away.

  Ein peaked his head out into the aisle and watched as the lieutenant disappeared through the doorway. He cocked his head towards Teddy.

  “You have balls of steel,” Ein whispered.

  Teddy shrugged.

  “Not really. I’m just used to dealing with their type,” he explained. “I’ve dealt with people like them before the world ended.”

  “Where at?” Ein asked, curious.

  “A situation that really wasn’t much different than this one,” Teddy said. “I was at a prison for longer than I care to remember.”

  “You were a guard?”

  “No, kid, I was on the other side of things,” he said quietly.

  Ein turned his head and looked at him, surprised.

  Teddy glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

  “Does that frighten you?” Teddy asked.

  “No,” Ein said.

  Teddy saw the kid’s expression and knew he was being truthful.

  “I’m just surprised that you survived for so long behind bars if you went off at every hothead you came across,” Ein continued.

  Teddy thought about Jane and sighed.

  “To be honest, I didn’t,” Teddy admitted as he stared at the flickering Homeland Security logo on the headrest’s screen. “I survived by keeping my head down and laying low. Whenever I did step out of line was usually when things went sideways for me.”

  “Then why start now?”

  “After things fell apart, and after I got out, someone told me something that stuck with me,” Teddy said in tight voice.

  “What was it?”

  “She said that it’s worth fighting for the good that’s left in the world,” Teddy replied.

  Ein blinked.

  “Sounds like a good way to die,” Ein quipped.

  “You’re probably right,” Teddy said with a shrug. “But looking at the depravation around here… Goddammit if she wasn’t right. If we lose our basic humanity, if we sit back and let them take that from us, what’s left to keep living for?” He paused. “People need hope. They need something good to look forward too.”

  “Is that why you stood up to that asshole pushing that old man?” Ein asked. “Were you trying to stand up for what’s right?”

  Teddy looked at him and nodded.

  “You stood up first,” Teddy corrected. “Why?”

  Ein frowned and shook his head, looking down.

  “It was wrong, man,” Ein said. “I guess it’s like you said… Someone has to stand up for good, right?”

  Teddy nodded again, deep in thought.

  He thought about his wife who he left behind one morning to go make some easy cash.

  He thought about the federal agent he killed and the state trooper he shot back in Texas when things went sideways.

  He thought about Cody, Darrel, and all of the others he hurt or killed back in prison over trivial bullshit.

  He thought about Turtle who he left behind to burn in the engulfed pick-up truck when he could’ve saved him.

  He thought Jane and Danny who died in his arms.

  Finally, he spoke.

  “Before, I don’t think I would’ve helped that old man,” Teddy eventually said. “I can’t change the person I was, but I can change the person I am. Maybe it’s time for me to start doing things different.” He paused, sighing. “Maybe I can make up for all of the times I was a selfish asshole.”

  Ein and Teddy sat in silence as the train rumbled along the tracks.

  “Where do you think they’re taking us?” Ein eventually asked.

  Teddy thought about the question a moment before simply shrugging.

  “Wherever it is, whatever fluffy bullshit they call it, just know what it really is,” Teddy said.

  “What will it be?” Ein asked.

  “A prison,” Teddy replied flatly. “You’ll have to be tough, smart, and be able to adapt if you want to survive.”

  Ein frowned.

  “Sounds pretty fucking bleak, mate,” Ein said.

  “It is,” Teddy admitted.

  “Then your whole fighting for good thing sounds doomed from the start, I hate to say,” Ein said sadly.

  “No,” Teddy replied without concern. “It will be difficult, but all is not lost.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “There is one thing you need to always remember. There is one thing that they never take into account.”

  Ein gave him a quizzical look.

  “What?” Ein asked.

  Teddy glanced over at him and smirked.

  “There will always be more of us then it will be of them,” Teddy answered. “If enough of us get our heads out of our own asses and stand up for the greater good of human decency, they’ll never break us. They will never win.”

  BOOK TWO

  absolution

  PROLOGUE

  NOVEMBER 4th

  Los Angeles was burning. Pillars of flames crept over the western edge of the Hollywood Hills, and left behind smoldering mansions and the charred remnants of palms, cypress, and jacaranda trees in its wake. The growing wall of fire spread outward toward the sprawling metropolitan area and reflected an orange glint off the glass of the skyscrapers that peaked through a murky haze. Plumes of thick black smoke obscured the sun, and gray ash fluttered from the sky like snow. The breeze carried glowing embers from the hills deeper into the city, threatening to create smaller infernos.

  Miles away, safe inside an estate located high in the Santa Monica Mountains, Senator Mark Hammond stood and sipped his cognac as he watched the rapidly encroaching fire from his study window.

  The stale odor of cigar smoke clung to his tuxedo.

  As he watched the wildfire, he couldn’t help but speculate on what had caused it. Nights were starting to grow cool, and the electricity came and went, so had someone left an appliance running before the flu took a turn for the worse? Had a campfire grown out of control? Or had it been something as simple as a cigarette butt thrown out the window along the Pacific Highway?

  Whatever it was that had caused it, he knew the fire wouldn’t take much to spread; there hadn’t been any storms recently, and it had been an especially dry summer in Southern California.

  Hammond took another sip and stared at the flames. Ever the pragmatist, he knew it wouldn’t be long before the fire burned through what was left of Beverly Hills, climbed up the mountainside, and devoured the remaining estates.

  It was only a matter of time
, really.

  Soon, he knew he and the others would be forced to leave the opulence of the estate, and venture out into the unknown.

  The study was one of the home’s more ostentatiously designed rooms. Mahogany bookcases with intricate designs towered over exquisitely woven Persian rugs. The oil paintings that surrounded the handmade desk dated back to the seventeenth century. A crystal chandelier was suspended from the ceiling and bathed the room in soft, white light.

  He didn’t care too much for the ornate décor, but he did care about literature—thousands of books filled the shelves.

  Hammond inspected the bookcases and couldn’t help but mourn for the all the books that would soon be nothing but ash. Many of the books, he assumed, had probably never been read and served as mere decorations.

  He sighed, swirled the cognac inside its snifter, and stared through the picture window toward the burning city once more.

  There was an urgent knock at the study door.

  “Come in,” he said, not bothering to turn around.

  The varnished door opened, allowing the sound of laughter and classical music to fill the room. A young man wearing a black suit and a clear, coiled earpiece peered at Hammond from the doorway. "Sir, we've been given orders to leave."

  “I figured that’d be the case,” the senator replied. He took another sip from his glass and continued to stare out the window. “When will our transport be here?”

  “Ten minutes, give or take. We have to go by ground due to the smoke. They can’t send a helicopter under these conditions…the freeway is clear. They bulldozed a path through the abandoned cars this morning.”

  “Go by ground?” the senator asked, frowning. “During a wildfire?”

  “Yes, sir. The fire hasn’t crossed the freeway leading towards the convention center. The wind is picking up, though. That’s why the timetable has been pushed up.”

  “Fine,” the senator grumbled as he swirled the cognac. “Let me finish my drink…I’ll be out momentarily.”

  “Yes, sir.” The young agent stepped back outside and gently pulled the door shut.

  “What a mess,” the senator said to himself. He raised his glass to take another sip and was interrupted by another knock on the door. He scowled and lowered his glass. “I said give me a moment!”

 

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