by Mike Kraus
The sun’s rays through the window at the end of the hall glinted off of the silver tips of the scalpels as they whirled towards and through the man’s neck, cutting three deep gouges through his carotid artery on the left side of his neck, through the upper portion of his trachea and just barely nicking his right carotid as she pulled the scalpels free. He tried to gasp in surprise and pain as the blades sliced through his flesh, but Dianne was fast enough with her movements that there was no time for him to react—at least not at first.
Blood spilled freely from the left side of the man’s neck and his face turned from one of surprise to one of shock and disbelief. Rivers of red ran across his skin, barely visible in the shadows, but leaving a trail of warmth and stickiness wherever they went. Dianne could feel his hands moving beneath her legs as he struggled to bring them up to his wounds, trying in vain to staunch the flow of blood. He choked and wheezed as blood poured out of his neck, flowing into his damaged trachea as well as down his front and onto Dianne’s right hand and arm. The warm wetness wasn’t something she was expecting and she nearly jumped off of him, but instead clamped down on his chest with her right arm, putting her face up next to his. She dropped the scalpels from her left hand before clamping her hand over his mouth and nose, stifling his gurgling cries to ensure no one could hear them.
As she stared into the eyes of the man who only moments prior had been talking about the captives in the gas station camp as though they were so much cattle, she saw fear. Pure, unadulterated, raw fear. His pupils dilated and contracted as he looked between her and the brighter parts of the hall, searching for some way out of his situation. There was nothing he could do, though. Death’s wings were wrapping themselves around his body.
While she had expected him to pass out relatively quickly due to the loss of blood, it took just over a minute for his body to go limp, though he grew progressively weaker throughout the time she sat on him, keeping him from moving or making any sounds. As the blood flow slowed and his head sagged forward, bumping into her chest, she jerked her hands back and stood up, stumbling backward until she hit the wall. She stared at the man’s body in disgust for another long moment before the sound of distant talking voices broke her from her morbid preoccupation with the man’s corpse.
As she picked up the scalpels and went over to retrieve the sledgehammer from the first man’s face, she was overwhelmed with a sense of satisfaction—a feeling that was entirely unexpected. There was a sense of disgust and shame over the fact that she had just taken the lives of two people in a wholly violent and nauseating way, but at the same time she felt immense relief at knowing that there were now two less people who could hurt her.
“Two down,” she whispered to herself as she pulled the sledgehammer free with a quick and squelchy tug, “ten to go.” Dianne didn’t really expect to kill each and every one of the twelve men in the building, but there were undoubtedly at least a few more in between her and the exit. Whatever it took to escape and get back to her friends and family was what she was going to do—no matter how many stood in her way.
“Okay, Dianne.” She clenched the blades in her left hand and hefted the sledge in her right. “Ten more to go. You can do this. You can do this.”
Chapter 6
Washington, D.C.
While Rick, Jane and Dr. Evans tried to give a wide berth to the location where the engine noises were coming from, the destruction in the city and the direction they had to walk to reach their destination forced them on a more or less direct path towards the sounds. With the residential neighborhoods far behind them and commercial, government and industrial buildings on all sides, they were close to the river when they finally spotted what was causing the ruckus.
A couple blocks down the street, just on the close side of the river, were a collection of people with rifles on their backs wearing black and blue jackets with the words “Capitol Police” emblazoned on the back in white lettering. A few of them wore simple seamed caps while the rest had on baseball caps, and all of the headwear carried the same lettering as the jackets. Upon seeing how the people were dressed, Dr. Evans and Jane’s first reactions were to sigh with relief and start moving into a position where they could call out to them. Rick, however, grabbed them both by the arms and pulled them back into a nearby building where they could observe the people working without being spotted.
“What the hell, Rick?” Jane pulled her arm away from him, giving him a dirty look in the process. “They’re the good guys!”
“Are you sure about that?” Rick snapped back at her. “How do you know they’re not some gang that killed a bunch of cops and stole their clothing? Or even if they are police, that they’re not just going to try and take everything we have under some pretense?
“I… I don’t—”
“Exactly. We don’t know. Which is why we’re going to take our time, watch them carefully, and then figure out what to do once we have more information.” He looked at Dr. Evans, seeking confirmation and backup, and the man sighed and nodded slowly.
“Rick’s right, Jane. We’re three versus what looks like at least a dozen or more.”
“Son of a…” Jane cursed under her breath, looked around the room they were in and then sat down on a chair that was covered in dust. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Rick stood close to the front of the building, peeking out through the large window that had long since been smashed in, either by a person or by the event. He could see clearly down the length of the street, and watched carefully as the men dressed in police outfits continued walking down the road. They didn’t seem particularly concerned about their surroundings as only a few of them had their weapons out and at the ready. Most of them gestured and spoke with each other, spending a great deal of time pointing at scorched vehicles in the road that were blocking their path.
After ten or so minutes of watching, the source of the engine noise that the trio had heard finally came into view. A pair of massive bulldozers, both of them painted orange, drove side by side next to each other as they went down the street. They turned the corner in unison, their tracks rolling along effortlessly across the pavement. As the bulldozers neared the men they slowed down and the men scattered to the sides of the street, making way for the massive vehicles to do their thing.
With plows nearly as tall as the cabs on the bulldozers, they pushed forward with the blades at opposite angles, working together as they drove headlong into the crowd of vehicles blocking their path. The horrible sound of groaning, screeching metal echoed down the street, causing Rick to wince and cover his ears as the wreckage in the road was pushed aside by the powerful machines. The men dressed in police uniforms walked beside and behind the bulldozers, staying clear of the debris they pushed out of the way and checking to make sure nothing was getting caught up in the treads.
While the pace of the bulldozers was slow, they were nothing if not powerful and they continued moving along in a steady fashion. It wasn’t until the bulldozers and the men were less than a block away from the building where Rick, Jane and Dr. Evans were hiding that Rick realized that they had a problem. Turning around, he looked at Jane and Dr. Evans, both of whom were standing and watching just beside him.
“We need to get out of the building,” Rick whispered.
“What?” Dr. Evans looked at him. “What for?”
“They’re checking buildings as they’re going by. We need to ease into a back room or something so we don’t get spotted.”
Jane turned and headed behind the counter of the shop they were in, only to stop and look at the wall. “That… might be a problem.”
Rick slipped back from the window and stood next to her. Behind the counter, where the outline of a doorway leading into the back of the shop was visible, was a pile of debris from where the back half of the building had collapsed in on itself. Rick glanced around the rest of the small establishment, looking for a place for them to hide, when he realized there was only one option.
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“We need to try and break through before they get any closer. Then we can escape out the back and head around them.” Rick motioned at Jane and Dr. Evans. “Come on, let’s try to clear a path!”
As Rick and Dr. Evans moved towards the counter, intending to circle around and start work, Jane began tugging at a large cinderblock sticking out from the wall. As she pulled, the block and the rubble above it shifted, tumbling down towards her. She jumped back, trying to get out of the way, but tripped and fell down in a corner behind the counter as the rubble rained down on her legs, pinning her down and trapping her in place. Rick and Dr. Evans ran to her side and she groaned in pain, gritting her teeth together to try and keep from making any noise that might attract attention.
Rick knelt down next to Jane and took her hand as he looked at the piles of wood and rubble covering her lower half. “Are you okay?!”
Jane nodded slowly, closing her eyes and keeping her jaw clenched shut from the pain as she hissed through her teeth. “I think so. It hurts like hell, though!”
“Grab the bags,” Rick whispered to Dr. Evans, “And bring them back behind the counter. We’ll have to hide out back here while we try to get her free.”
Dr. Evans did as Rick asked, tossing their bags near the front of the shop over the counter before heading around behind it with Rick and Jane. Rick was already working on pulling the rubble off of Jane, setting it gently to the side to keep from making too much noise, and Dr. Evans joined in. With their limited weaponry they knew that if they were discovered and the men in the street were hostile, things weren’t going to go well.
Minutes ticked slowly by as Rick and Dr. Evans worked together in the shop, hearing the rumble of diesel engines and screeching metal growing closer. Dust billowed into the air as one of the bulldozers disturbed a large pile of ash, sending a cloud of it flying past the shop and up into the air. The vehicles drove by slowly, barely visible through the dust and ash as they rumbled along, the sound from their engines rattling the few intact pieces of glass still left in the shop. Dr. Evans and Rick stopped moving rubble and Dr. Evans crouched down low next to Jane while Rick stayed sitting up, peeking over the counter as he watched for the men who would be walking behind the bulldozers.
“You’re almost free,” Dr. Evans whispered to Jane, “As soon as they pass by we’ll get you out. Can you still move your legs and feet?”
There was still a moderately-sized pile of broken wood, cinderblocks and bricks on Jane’s legs, but she tried moving them nonetheless, wincing only slightly as she did. “Yeah. I can still move them. I think something’s stuck in my leg but I can feel my toes and move them.”
Dr. Evans patted her on the shoulder. “Good, good. Just stay still. We’ll get you out in a moment or two.”
While they hadn’t been able to hear the men talking before, once the bulldozers got just beyond their building their sound faded enough that Rick was able to hear the shouts of the men walking behind the vehicles. Rick cocked his head and listened intently, trying to discern not only their words but their tone and intent behind them as well.
“Unit three reports they found a cache of food and water, all unspoiled. They’re near capacity and will be heading to us shortly.”
“What about unit four? Any luck?”
“Nothing since their last report an hour ago. They’re gathering bits and pieces but nothing solid. Unit two’s still trying to resurrect that crane they found but it doesn’t look promising.”
“Using these ‘dozers as battering rams isn’t going to work if the doors on that facility are as big as they’re supposed to be. We’re going to need something more.”
“We need a bunker-buster.”
“Ha!”
Rick looked back and saw his own confused expression mirrored in both Dr. Evans and Jane’s faces. The conversation between the men walking outside the shop made no sense, and sounded like a mix between some sort of nefarious plotting and a group of rescuers trying to help people out. Rick sank beneath the counter as the voices drew close to the shop, trying to stay out of sight. The crunching of boots on the pavement outside grew louder until they were walking past. Rick could hear the steps of no less than six individuals outside the shop, and he held his breath and put a finger to his lips as he remained motionless, hoping that the men would keep walking by without stopping.
“Rogers, isn’t this where you got your wife that ring last year?” The voice came from the entrance of the shop where Rick, Jane and Dr. Evans were hiding. Rick felt his heart rate explode and he wondered offhand why the men hadn’t heard it beating.
“Hm. Yeah.” More bootsteps crunched, this time closer than before. One or more of the men were inside the shop. “Nice couple ran this place. I wonder what happened to them.”
“Same thing as everyone else, probably.”
The other man kicked at a pile of debris on the floor, sending bits of metal and wood flying up and over the counter. “Yep. Come on, let’s go.”
Rick felt his whole body relax at the man’s words. Dr. Evans and Jane’s faces were pictures of relief as they all listened to the pair exit the shop—until Rick felt a sharp pain in his awkwardly positioned leg. A cramp throbbed in his thigh unexpectedly and he kicked his leg outward, straightening it to try and relieve the pain. The motion did not come without consequence, though, and there was a loud clatter as he kicked the pile of rubble behind the counter and near Jane’s legs.
Rick felt his face flush red and he closed his eyes, praying that the sound was either quieter than he thought or that it would be lost in the rumble of the diesel engines a short distance away. As the footsteps stopped near the front of the shop and he heard a pair of bodies abruptly turn around, he knew that it wasn’t going to be. Half a second later, a loud voice called out, causing a sinking feeling in his stomach as he realized he had just doomed them all.
“Who the hell is in there?!”
Chapter 7
ISS, International Space Station
Commander Palmer glances at his watch. Twenty-five minutes of oxygen left and counting.
“Hurry up!” He bellows over the comms as he and Ted stand inside the airlock, looking out at Jackie. She is floating through space, the thrusters on her EVA suit firing at short intervals to keep her on track with the airlock. When she finally arrives, Ted and Commander Palmer help her pull in the string of equipment lashed to her arm and Commander Palmer begins operating the manual controls to seal the outer door. Once the door closes, he motions toward the inner door.
“Ted, use the manual controls to get the inner hatch open. Once we’re inside, I’ll head for engineering control station and get everything booted up. You two get everything in, seal the airlock and then get up to the main controls and see if there are any critically damaged components. We’ve all but used up our air so we’ve got to hustle.”
Ted nods, though the motion is imperceptible inside his bulky suit. He works the control for the inner hatch as quickly as his gloved hands allows, and soon it opens with a quick whoosh as air from inside the station rushes in to fill the void in the airlock. Shedding the large thruster portion of his EVA suit, Commander Palmer pushes himself past Ted and Jackie, calling out to them as he goes by. “Sounds like the skin of the station is intact, at least, so that’s good. Cross your fingers, guys; I’ll be back in a jiffy!”
As Ted and Jackie work to get the equipment and supplies into the narrow tubes and passageways of the station, Commander Palmer flies toward the center of the maze, where the main engineering controls are located. A row of massive batteries sits in the center of the station, the energy within kept topped off by solar panels on the outside of the station that were never fully retracted. While the batteries have kept core systems in the station online ever since the last astronaut left, the main power source for the station is a combination of an experimental micro fusion reactor developed by MIT and the main solar panels which are still safely tucked away.
While the station possesses ai
r scrubbers and tanks of reserve oxygen, the batteries in the station are not enough to process and distribute the air. Either the reactor or the solar panels—or, ideally, both—must be activated. The only question is which one is more liable to still function.
“How’s it going down there, Commander?” Ted comes in over the comms, his voice calm with just a touch of concern.
“Twelve minutes of air left,” Commander Palmer replies. “How’s it look at command? Do the reactor or panels show any signs of damage?”
“Negative, commander. Both systems show as green based on the passive sensors.”
Commander Palmer takes a deep breath and looks at the controls in front of him for a few seconds before responding. “Heads or tails, Jackie?”
“Commander?”
“Heads or tails? Don’t think about it; just pick one.”
“T—No, heads.”
“Reactor it is.” Commander palmer enters the command to start up the reactor, then pushes himself back from the console and watches the screen with trepidation. “Startup time for both is roughly the same, about ten minutes. With both systems showing green it’s a shot in the dark over which one will work. Maybe both will. Maybe one won’t. Maybe both won’t.”
“That’s certainly comforting, Commander,” Ted replies.
The trio of astronauts float quietly for the next nine minutes and thirty seconds, anxiously awaiting some sign that the correct choice was made. As the startup sequence for the reactor completes, Commander Palmer hears a slight hum as a vibration begins to build within the center of the station. A few seconds later, Ted comes over the comms, nearly breathless with excitement.
“We’ve got systems coming online across the board up here! Environmental systems are starting up now and we should have breathable air any second!”
