“If you ain’t workin’ for ol’ Uncle Sam, then what in the Hell is this place? Why all the secrecy? The bio suits? Comin’ topside and holdin’ us at gunpoint?”
Everett realized if any headway was to be made, it wouldn’t happen unless he stepped in. After all, he was a civilian, too, and certainly looked the part. He hoped they’d believe him; realize an old man posed no threat.
Stepping forward, Everett pushed his fears away. He cleared his throat, looking directly into the eyes of Walter Addison, who he sensed was the leader. “Stop. Just, stop it. Who we are, or used to be, doesn’t really matter at this point, does it?”
“Yeah, it sorta does,” Walter answered. “After what happened to us before we made it up here, our trust meter broke.”
“Fair enough, Mr. Addison. Allow me to formally introduce myself. I’m Dr. Everett Berning. Born and raised in Little Rock, attended college and taught microbiology and chemistry for years in Georgia. That is, until my entire family, all seven of them, died. A wonderful man named Dr. Jason Thomas—who, like me, also lost his entire family—brought me here to work on a project. A project fully paid for and put together by him and no one else. These men here were hired by Dr. Thomas, each chosen for a particular skillset. Yes, they are all former members of the military, but the key word is former. They work for no one, including me. In fact, they are only here to help me with my research, which has now morphed over to finding some sort of cure for this unholy plague.”
“You’re…you’re workin’ on a cure?” Walter stuttered.
“Yes. Well, I’m in the first stages of my research, but that is the goal. Now, recall Mr. Addison, it was you and your group attempting to remain concealed in the woods while searching for us, not the other way around. Am I wrong?”
The conversation was interrupted as Mike Bailey walked out from the room. The look on his face, the blood-stained hands, were enough proof needed to know he’d ended the life of his friend.
“Please, come this way, Mr. Bailey. We need to get that blood off you quickly,” Everett whispered. “Dirk? Is it okay by you if we take them into the cafeteria and give them the answers to what I assuming they were searching for? That was your ultimate goal—to find out what we knew—right, Mr. Addison? To gain as much information as possible; give you a leg up in a hostile world?”
Walter nodded. “Yep, that was the plan. A poorly executed one, I might add. We didn’t know—hadn’t seen any evidence—the munchers were up here already.”
“Deadly surprises are around every corner nowadays,” Dirk said. “This way, please.”
An hour later, Everett’s voice barely above a whisper from talking almost the entire time, the room was finally silent. He’d made sure not to mention anything about Rememdium, Daryl’s betrayal, the botched rescue in Laredo. Everett simply stuck to what he’d learned since the outbreak. A few times, he’d worried Kevin or one of the others would interrupt him and spill Everett’s shameful secret, yet they never did.
None of the men had asked a question during the entire horrific presentation. It was the first time in his life Everett had ever completely commanded the attention of others. In stunned silence, they listened, hanging on his every word. Occasionally, one let out a gasp or an “Oh, shit” but nothing more.
Everett considered broaching the subject of the other danger posed by Arkansas Nuclear One in Russellville. Dirk, and the others, had not taken the news well when he broke it earlier in the day upon their return from burying Porterfield. After the load of shit he’d just handed out to the men, he couldn’t get the words to leave his tired throat.
“Guess we know why you lost it when you thought Jesse took the drugs,” Walt whispered.
Kevin stood, stretched, and then walked over to fix more coffee. “Yeah, was kinda edgy that morning. Hadn’t been that long since ol Doc here dropped the good news into my ears. Plus, only a few hours since I had to put down my best friend. Wasn’t anything personal against her, I can assure you. Is Jesse your daughter?”
Walt laughed. “No. Not sure what to call her, exactly.”
“That’s cryptic, and rather creepy,” Dirk said.
“Jesse and my son are an item. He, uh, just proposed to her yesterday. Back in the normal world, I suppose I’d call her my son’s fiancé. You know, because they’d be plannin’ a weddin’? Considerin’ the way things are now I don’t think there’ll be one. Ain’t no one to perform the service anyhow. Or care, for that matter. I’ve never been too fond of the girl. She’s a former drug addict, which in my book, especially in light with what you just shared, makes her a big liability.”
“Interesting. Quite the dilemma for you as a father, and as a survivor.”
“Bet when you go back and share all this happy news with your group, that girl will no longer be interested in drugs,” Kevin added.
“Since we’ve been so forthcoming with information, I think it’s your turn, Mr. Addison. How did you even know we were here?” Dirk asked.
Kyle chuckled. “Walt’s son took a nasty tumble down the mountainside yesterday, right close to your graveyard. We saw y’all. Kinda freaked when we noticed the bio suits. And the weapons.”
“Ah, the assumption was made we were military, burying our secrets. I understand your concerns about us now,” Dirk responded.
Kyle shrugged his shoulders. “Live and learn, right? Okay, so, next question. Dr. Berning, you’re sure this disease ain’t airborne? We can only get sick if one of those munchers gets a bite in, or we happen to find a stash of coke and snort it up?”
“Yes, Mr. Pender. I’m quite sure. The samples I’ve tested showed no signs of fungal spores, which means airborne transmission isn’t possible. The fungi converge inside the brain, not the lungs.”
“Which is why the only way to stop them is take out the brain. Makes sense,” Walt added. “I just, good Lord. I can’t wrap my head around all this mess. Bodies controlled by fungus that crave human flesh. Un-fucking-believable.”
“Yeah, you can’t even begin to imagine how surprised the doc was when he figured it out. Choked him up,” Kevin muttered.
Everett stiffened. Dirk noticed and stood. “Warton? I’ll need some help securing Mr. Kilpatrick’s remains in a bag. I’m sure these gentlemen are ready to head back to their camp.”
Kevin settled his gaze on Everett. The eerie smile made Everett’s skin crawl. “According to the doc, we’re supposed to incinerate any tainted remains. Remember?”
“Warton—hallway. Now.”
Kevin and Dirk stormed out into the hall, leaving Everett standing in the middle of the room with five sets of concerned faces staring at him.
“What’s up his ass?” Kyle asked.
“I’m afraid Mr. Warton hasn’t been the same since all this happened,” Everett whispered.
“Yeah, well, none of us have,” Walt interjected. “And the thought of havin’ to play mortician and burn a body don’t make things any better, either. You sure that’s the only way, Dr. Berning?”
“Quite.”
“Then why did you let them bury Porterfield?”
Everett blushed. “I’ve had a lot on my mind since all this happened, Mr. Addison. By the time I realized they’d gone to bury him, I was too late to stop them.”
“If it’s such a big deal, do you plan on diggin’ him back up and disposin’ of him properly?”
“That’s been discussed, yes.”
Walter cocked his head. “And the verdict?”
“Due to the cold temperature outside, and the fact he’s encased in thick plastic, we decided to wait.”
“Well, I certainly don’t want to do the same. The thought of diggin’ Shaun back up later makes no sense to me. Like you said, it’s cold outside, and there ain’t no leaves or brush to catch fire. We’ll handle him once, then be done with it.”
“A wise decision, Mr. Addison,” Everett offered.
The men stood and gathered their items. Walt paused at the door. “We need to head back to
our group. They’re probably worried, since we’ve been gone longer than we anticipated. Just two final questions, then we’ll take our friend’s body outside and burn it.”
“I’ll answer them to the best of my abilities,” Everett said.
“No, these questions are for them,” Walt said, motioning toward Winters, Rice, and Denton. “Y’all have any idea where those things came from? We ain’t seen hide nor hair of one since we arrived. Hard to tell since they seemed burned and everythin’ happened so quick, but I swear, it looked like they were wearin’ flight suits.”
Everett’s heart jumped into his chest. The pilots! Oh, my God. We should have gone back!
Clive Winters nodded. “Yeah, it did to us, too. My guess would be they came from the wreck. When humping the trail up here on Saturday, a jet crashed about three klicks south. We were lucky it had already deployed the missiles, or we’d all be dead. Porterfield—the one you saw us burying yesterday—he and Warton searched the wreckage on Sunday. They didn’t find any bodies, only the metal box with the blow inside. That’s how Porterfield ended up turning. He snorted some. So, it seems, did one of the pilots.”
“God, turned into a zombie from tainted coke. Unreal,” Allsop said. “Do you think there’s more out there?”
Clive shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know. My guess would be no. Warton said there wasn’t much left at the wreckage site except the tail. He guessed it was an F-15, and that’s a two-seater. Unless those flyboys came across others who fled to the hills, we’re good. For now.”
“What a nightmare,” Bailey whispered.
“You mentioned questions. Was there another?” Denaryl Rice asked.
Walt turned and looked at the rest of his men. Everett sensed something unspoken passed between them.
“No, you answered both. We’ll be on our way. Appreciate the intel. Good luck with your research, Dr. Berning. You pull it off and you’ll be the new sa—”
“Please,” Everett held up a hand. “Don’t say it, Mr. Addison. I’ve heard it before, and believe me, the title is a misnomer. Before you leave, I’ve got a question of my own.”
“Shoot,” Walt answered.
“You seem the type who was prepared for this, so I’m guessing your camp isn’t exposed to the elements. Perhaps you’ve taken shelter in a cave, like us? Am I right?”
Walt’s eyes narrowed into small slits as he studied Everett’s face. “Why do you ask?”
“Please, Mr. Addison, stop looking at me like I’m plotting something sinister. Since all this happened, we haven’t come across other survivors, and it’s nice to finally meet some. Knowing others have made it this far gives us all a ray of hope the human race can continue forward. Now that we’ve come across corpses up here, I just wanted to make sure you and the others are in a safe place. If not, I wanted to offer sanctuary here. Nothing can penetrate these walls.”
“Mighty neighborly of you, Dr. Berning. We’ll certainly take it under consideration, should we have to leave our current location.”
With that, the group left, including Denton and the others. Only Everett and Denaryl remained.
“They’re in a cave. Guaranteed. Sure doesn’t look like they’ve been hanging their hats in a tent. Don’t worry, Doc. They’ll be safe, if what you think might happen in Russellville, comes to fruition.”
Everett nodded as Denaryl stepped into the hallway.
“I don’t think, I know,” Everett whispered to the empty room. “Soon. None of us will be safe much longer.”
THE JOURNEY - Wednesday, December 24th – 8:15 a.m. – Central Standard Time
“Promise me you’ll be careful. No heroics. I need you to come back in one piece. So does Jesse.”
“Promise,” Reed answered.
Jane hugged his neck. “I know the trip is necessary, but—”
“Yes, it is. Especially since Bailey and Allsop might not return back with us. While we’ve got the extra hands, we need to grab what we can. Losin’ Shaun last night wasn’t only an emotional blow, it affected our safety, too.”
Jane shook her head. “I still can’t believe Shaun’s dead. Thank God he didn’t turn into one of those things and bite anyone else. Poor Bailey. He hasn’t said a word since. He must feel awful. Tried to help his friend, and only ended up killin’ him. Twice.”
“Yeah, he looks rough. I think he’s already crossed the bridge over to Insanity Town. His mistake cost us all.”
“Bullshit. Put the blame where it belongs—which is directly on the shoulders of those who started this mess. Any of us might find ourselves in a similar situation and make the same mistake. Firin’ a gun and hittin’ a target ain’t easy, especially in the heat of things.”
“For someone who’s never been in combat, you’re rather perceptive,” Reed laughed.
“My daddy taught me how to shoot when I was little, remember? I did just fine when there weren’t any distractions. Hit the target every time. But, when he started makin’ noise, jumpin’ around, screamin’, yellin’, well, I couldn’t hit the side of a barn.”
“Yeah, real life certainly ain’t portrayed correctly in movies. People panic, miss, make stupid choices.”
“If it comes to that for me, Reed Newberry, you know, if I get bit or somethin’, you better put me down. I don’t want to be—”
“Don’t talk like that, Jane. Don’t.”
“Like Walt said the other day, it’s harsh reality. I mean it, Reed. The thought of bein’ one of those monsters, well, it ain’t how I want to go out. Promise me, right now, you’ll do it.”
Reed sighed. “Of course. Same goes for me.”
Jane shuddered and changed the subject. “It’s Christmas Eve day. We should count our blessin’s Jesse didn’t slip the other day, or she’d be one now, too.”
Reed turned and looked over at Jesse, who was about thirty feet away, sitting on the floor next to Turner’s cot. “I know, and I’m grateful. You and that girl are the only things keepin’ me from eatin’ my gun.”
“Reed!”
“Sorry, that was an internal thought that slipped out,” Reed whispered, grinning. Pulling Jane closer, he kissed the top of her head. “What little filter I had is long gone.”
“You never had a filter. That’s one of the many things I’ve always loved about you. You just let your thoughts fly.”
Pulling away, Reed moved to the cot and laced up his boots. “You just said you loved me, Jane Richmond. Two words that haven’t crossed those lovely lips since high school. Thanks for waitin’ to say it until we’re inside a place with no privacy. I’da preferred to hear them when you were naked underneath me.”
“Hey, at least I said it, right?”
“True. I love you, too, Janie-girl. Never stopped. Timin’. Life’s all about timin’. My clock’s always been off. I shoulda come back home sooner. If I had, we’d be hitched right now.”
Jane smiled. “Was that your weird way of proposin’ to me, Reed Newberry? If so, talk about hearin’ things at the wrong time!”
“Hey, love is in the air, courtesy of Turner and Jesse. Guess it rubbed off. When any minute might be your last, you say what’s on your mind.”
“How romantic, Reed. I’m swoonin’ over here,” Jane sighed. “Bein’ married wouldn’t change our current situation, anyway. We’d still be livin’ in a freakin’ cave, hidin’ out from walkin’ corpses. God, that just doesn’t sound right, does it? Hidin’ out from the dead.”
Reed nodded. “Jesus, it figures all this shit was caused from drugs. They’ve been a plague of their own for years. Ruined so many lives, and special moments, like right now. God, I can’t count how many times we busted people at the border. We barely scratched the surface—missed most of the shipments. Drug cartels were always findin’ new ways to sneak shit across. Guess the only good thing about all this mess is the war on drugs is over.”
Jane studied the face of the man she’d loved since sixth grade. Reed’s hair was thinner and white instead of dark mahogany. A
ge spots dotted his forehead, nose, and hands. The skin on his face was deeply embedded with wrinkles from working outside for many years. Jane didn’t care. Not one bit. Reed Newberry had always been the kind of man who could have made his living in front of the camera. Rugged. Strong. Lithe and full of swagger. Clint Eastwood’s body meshed with Sam Elliot’s looks. The first time she saw him on the playground, she was hooked.
Other than his physical appearance, Reed hadn’t changed much since high school. He was still the same brash, cocky man he’d always been. A typical southern boy who loved his country, his family, and doing what’s right, no matter who disagreed with his stances.
When she’d heard he was back in town, Jane felt like a giddy eighteen-year-old again. The rush of seeing him after nearly thirty years was overshadowed by the guilt she’d buried deep inside her soul.
Instead of exposing either of them to more heartache, Jane steered clear of Reed Newberry. A few times, she’d spotted his truck in the hospital parking lot when her shift ended, quietly sitting a few rows from her vehicle. Their high school romance had been ripped apart after Jane informed Reed she didn’t want to continue their relationship while she went to nursing school.
Jane’s words broke Reed’s heart. She still recalled the shocked look on his face as she said them inside his truck. The wounded look on his face haunted her dreams for years, even after marrying Russell Cotton, a doctor at St. Vincent’s Hospital in Little Rock. Fifteen years of marriage spent next to a man she thought she knew—a stable one with similar interests and ideals—ended after Russell left her for another woman. Jane had been sad, yet oddly, not heartbroken. After the divorce was final, Jane left Little Rock and went back home to Malvern. In the back of her mind, she secretly craved for Reed Newberry to still be there, pining over her after years of being apart, only to discover he’d left and moved to Texas right after graduation.
Tainted Future (The Rememdium Series Book 3) Page 12
