Tainted Future (The Rememdium Series Book 3)

by Ashley Fontainne

  “Because she’s dangerous. She almost got you killed. Twice in one fuckin’ day!”

  “Twice? What do you mean?”

  “Don’t lie for her, son. She sent you out here!”

  Mason tugged on his sleeve, so Cooper turned around. Mason whispered, “It was my idea, I swear. I, uh, wanted to impress her. You know, show her I wasn’t a weak nerd?”

  Cooper wasn’t sure if he should laugh, or slap the kid across the head to knock some sense back into his brain. “I forgot what it’s like to be seventeen. No rational thoughts at all. Everythin’ is controlled by the dick. You’re damn lucky you’ve still got one, boy. Damn lucky. Wouldn’t recommend you pointin’ it in her direction, though. Don’t you remember what she did to the last man we saw her with? Trust me, she’s not the kind of woman you want to impress.”

  “They were hurting her. She did what she had to do to survive. I’m not like them. She’ll see,” Mason answered. “Besides, it’s not like there’s a lot of women to pick from anymore. I’d like to experience sex before I croak.”

  Cooper let out a huff of air as Teresa walked up.

  “We should get those two containers and leave. If others are close by, they’ll be drawn to the noise.”

  “Shoulda thought about that before you blew them to kingdom come,” Cooper said.

  Ignoring the comment, Teresa looked at Mason. “Why weren’t you moving? You don’t look injured.”

  Mason’s cheeks flushed bright red. “I, uh, well, guess my first attempt at siphoning gas wasn’t such a success. I got the first two filled and had a bit of trouble with the third.”

  “You didn’t know they were inside, did you?” Cooper asked. Mason shook his head. “On the third attempt, you heard them, probably right around the time you were suckin’ out gas. Right?”

  “Yeah. Started choking, then I guess I hyperventilated and fainted. So much for being a hero, huh?”

  “We’ve got two more cans of gas, so yeah, you’re a hero,” Teresa replied.

  Mason’s smile was so big, Cooper feared his face would snap. “Let’s go get your hard-earned treasures and head back. We’ve still got a lot of miles to cover.”

  They walked away from the burning vehicles, back toward the SUV. Mason stopped and retrieved the gas cans, the stupid grin still on his face. Cooper wouldn’t say anything else at the moment, but the second Teresa was out of earshot, he’d have a long talk with the boy. Set him straight on the kind of woman Teresa was, and to stay sharp around her before she sunk her teeth into him.

  Literally.

  About ten minutes into their hike back to the vehicle, Cooper asked, “Mason? What did you use to siphon gas with?”

  “The emergency kit had an air compressor. I cut the hose off.”

  Cooper couldn’t help but smile at the kid’s resourcefulness. “Geek Squad, that was smart thinkin’, but did it ever occur to you we might need the air compressor later? We’ve only got one spare tire. What if we blow one, replace it, then start losin’ air from another?”

  “I, well, guess I figured gas was the priority. Can’t blow a tire if we aren’t moving.”

  Tamping down his frustration, Cooper said, “From here on out, we work as a group. No goin’ off playin’ hero unless we all agree and go. Got it?”

  “Sure thing, Chief!” Mason answered.

  The sound of pride in the kid’s voice made Cooper shake his head. Yes, he definitely needed to have a talk with Mason.

  Soon.

  “Teresa said we aren’t far from the Arkansas border. With three tanks of gas, we should be good, right?” Mason asked.

  “Maybe. Depends on what kind of trouble we run into. This area ain’t heavily populated, but the rest of our drive will be.”

  “Don’t worry, Chief. We’ll make it. We’ve come this far, and I’ll be honest, I didn’t think we’d make it out of Colorado. I was wrong, so that mean there’s hope. We’ll make it to your kids. No doubts.”

  The mention of his children sent waves of anger through Cooper’s chest. The frustration he’d held inside, burst out. “We won’t if either of you keep makin’ stupid, spur-of-the-moment decisions! I’m tired, hungry, and pissed off. I don’t need to be sidetracked with worryin’ about savin’ your asses! Yeah, we’ve been lucky so far, but luck always runs out. Always. From now on, we don’t push it any longer. Think before actin’, not the other way around. If you don’t, we’ll all end up like those burnt corpses back there. Got it?”

  Mason nodded, looking at the ground rather than Cooper’s face. No one said another word the rest of the fifteen minutes they walked.

  Once back at the SUV, Cooper unlocked the doors. Mason filled the gas tank then climbed inside, his pride wounded and face flushed. Cooper reached under the driver’s seat and handed the kid a bottle of water.

  “Drink, but not too fast. Keep your eyes out for any signs of trouble. Both of you.”

  Two heads bobbed in agreement, so Cooper eased out onto the road and headed east, thankful to be alive, and closer to home.

  I’m coming, kids. I’m coming, if these two don’t screw up again.

  TIME TO FLY AWAY - Thursday, December 25th – 1:15 p.m. – Central Standard Time

  “Anyone realize what today is?”

  “Yeah, Christmas. Ho-fucking-ho. No presents this year, other than the biggest lump of coal ever. Feels just like it did when I was a kid. Santa couldn’t get to our house back then, either, just like he didn’t get through all this rock. Instead of Jolly Ol’ Saint Nick, Krampus appeared. But you know what, Doc? We’re safe here. If magical elves can’t penetrate these walls, nothing can,” Kevin responded.

  “We aren’t safe here, Kevin. Not for much longer,” Everett added.

  “Jesus, Kevin. When did you become such a whiner?” Clive interjected. “I sure am sick of hearing you piss and moan.”

  “Picked it up from your mom, asshole. Right after I—”

  Kevin and Clive were at each other’s throats before Everett had time to blink, or Kevin finished his sentence. Dirk and Denaryl jumped from their spots and pulled them apart. Everett watched from his perch at the end of the table, a heavy knot in his stomach.

  “Now it’s just like Christmas at my house, too. Every year, there was always at least one fight,” Dirk said after yanking Clive off Kevin. “The only difference is it’s not me and my brother going at each other. I’ll repeat what my father used to say: next one out of line gets a boot in their ass. I’m not even kidding. We don’t have the luxury of acting like hormonal twelve-year-olds.”

  “Sorry, guess that wasn’t the appropriate time to bring up the subject of Christmas,” Everett offered. “It’s just, well, I was tired of rehashing the same topic and listening to all of you argue. Believe me, gentlemen, Christmas is my least favorite time of the year. The last thirteen sucked, and this one tops them all.”

  “Actually, it’s rather appropriate today is Christmas. A time for new beginnings, right Doc?”

  Everett gave Dirk a weary smile. “Something like that, though I’ve been waiting for a ray of hope for a long time. No beams of happiness are around.”

  “Enough theatrics, all of you! What I want to know, Doc, is are you sure this is a real threat?” Denaryl asked.

  “Wow, he speaks! You haven’t said ten words since we’ve been here, Dee. Now you decide to join a conversation?”

  “Warton, I’ve kept quiet because no one could get a word in around you. Your mouth’s always busy flapping enough for all of us. Stop spouting your bullshit and interrupting questions asked to another! Doc?”

  Everett sighed. He looked up into the warm, chocolate brown eyes of Denaryl Rice. He’d always liked the kid because he sensed another damaged soul behind the wide eyes. “I’m ninety-nine percent positive.”

  “Only ninety-nine percent? Maybe we should go check out the facility, you know, just to be sure? There could still be workers there,” Clive offered.

  “So, you’re volunteering to go check it
out, Winters? Hope so, because there’s no way I’m going. Too risky. That one percent window don’t mean shit,” Drake said.

  “Nothing in this world is one-hundred percent, except dying. Now, even that’s changed, because people are coming back. Arkansas Nuclear One is just a ticking time bomb. I’d bet my life on it, no hesitation. Depending upon certain factors, it could be days, or weeks, before meltdown.”

  “Not years? You sure?” Dirk asked.

  Everett nodded.

  “Then we don’t risk a mission there. Period,” Dirk said with finality.

  “You’re going to trust the man who started all this?” Kevin muttered. “Are we really going to put our lives in this old fool’s hands? What if he’s wrong?”

  Denaryl pulled his gaze from Everett’s face, diverting his attention to Kevin. “We all know you disagree with the decision to leave. Not all of us feel the same way. So, here’s my vote, if it even matters. We go. I don’t care where, just get the fuck outta here before this shit happens. At least with this catastrophe, we’ve got some warning. A slow death from radiation exposure does not interest me at all.”

  “Oh, but you’re willing to risk a quick death after getting torn apart by rotten corpses?” Clive asked.

  “If it means I won’t be trapped underground and slowly rotting away while poison courses through my veins, yes. A few days of healthy freedom with a quick ending certainly sounds better than what awaits us here.”

  “What about Dr. Berning’s research? Where in the world would we go that’s safe and has a lab?” Drake Denton asked.

  “Dr. Berning, would you like to answer Drake’s question?”

  Everett rose from the chair, wishing Dirk hadn’t asked him to expound. He didn’t want to dump yet another pile of awful news on the already strung-out men, though he knew there wasn’t a choice.

  “Go ahead, Doc. Kevin won’t interrupt, right, Kevin?” Dirk asked.

  Kevin’s answer was a grunt as he slumped into a chair.

  “At the present, our biggest threat is the radiation. If we remain here and I continue working on a cure, I’ll need more specimens. As such, some of you would have the task of acquiring them, which not only poses danger from the dead, but exposure to radiation. Nuclear reactors require power to run the cooling pumps. If they no longer function, meltdown occurs. It can’t be detected by human senses, and we don’t have any equipment on site to alert us when it’s in the air. We wouldn’t know, until it’s too late, that we’ve been exposed.”

  “What about the bio suits? Can’t we use them?” Clive asked.

  “They would protect from some radioactive contamination, yes. However, we only have four left. There’s no way to decontaminate them, or even know, if you’ve been exposed or not. It’s too risky to stay here. We’re downwind and right at one-hundred miles away. In other words, sitting ducks. When we run out of supplies, everything around us topside will be contaminated.”

  “I seem to remember during training that the safe-zone area is fifty miles, not one hundred,” Dirk interjected.

  “That’s a minimum safe distance. Other factors come into play, such as the wind pattern and weather. Winds tend to travel west to east, which throws us right into the path. Remember what happened in Japan at Fukushima? Radiation—right this very minute—is still spreading across the Pacific. When a plant is damaged and can’t cool the towers, meltdown occurs. Not if, but when.”

  “Maybe the radiation will cure the zombies?” Kevin muttered.

  “Warton!” Dirk yelled.

  “Sorry, but some levity was needed. This is some heavy shit we’re talking about! Walking corpses in one hand, radiation poisoning in the other. Some world we live in now. Fuck!”

  Everett turned and addressed Kevin directly. “I know, and believe me, I don’t like being the person each of you cringe at every time I open my mouth. My news is never good. So, here’s the final outcome of my calculations, which isn’t good news, either. Finding a cure will take time. Not only are more specimens needed to do so, but I haven’t figured out the type of fungi we’re dealing with. Even if I’m successful at figuring that out, and concoct some sort of anti-zombie formula, it will benefit only those of us not contaminated. The dead have no hope. Then there’s figuring out a way to create enough for other survivors, how to get it to them, and so forth. Those things can—need—to be done in a safe zone. This location doesn’t qualify. Let’s all hope we aren’t the only ones working on a cure. Surely there are some people left in the world doing the exact same thing!”

  The men all spoke at once, so Dirk held up a hand to silence them. “Look, stop bitching and realize how lucky we are! Dee’s a pilot, so he can fly the Gulfstream sitting in the hangar not far from Dr. Thomas’ place. We leave, drive to the hangar, and fly the friendly skies to someplace without a nuclear power plant. The only thing we need to do now is figure out where to go.”

  “Okay, sure! Let me just go grab my map of the world listing all the locations of nuclear reactors! Then, we’ll play pin the tail on the country,” Kevin snapped.

  “There’s one in the library at Dr. Thomas’ estate. I remember passing by it numerous times when I couldn’t sleep and went to the library to read.”

  “Then it’s settled. We pack up and leave tomorrow at 0800.”

  “What about the group of survivors we ran into? Do we warn them? Take them with us?” Everett asked. The thought of leaving the first people they’d come into contact with made his stomach sour.

  “No. Too many of them. The Gulfstream only seats twelve. I know it’s a death sentence for them, but it can’t be helped. They’d be forced to pick who stays, and who goes. They’ll be better off all dying together,” Dirk answered. “Warton, Denton, Rice and Winters—you all secure up the place and remove the crispy pilots out front. Make sure to burn them. Dr. Berning and I will handle the lab. Any questions?”

  “Yeah, just one,” Kevin said. “Why couldn’t you have told us this earlier, Berning? You know, like before we left the estate and hid inside this fucking place like frightened bats? We could have simply hopped on the plane back then and headed somewhere safe.”

  “I didn’t realize the finality of what happened at the time, Mr. Warton. Forgive me for not handling this nightmare with finesse. Seeing the dead walking around kind of messed things up inside my head.”

  “Warton—shut up. Enough already. Stop pointing the finger of blame at Dr. Berning. I had a much bigger hand in this than he did, so if you’ve got a problem with him, you do with me, too.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about, Dirk?” Kevin asked.

  “I'm the one who decided to go to Laredo alone, remember? I forced Dr. Berning to leave Laredo the night I rescued him without the formula and his notes. Heat of battle decision. It was either let him get shot by wasting precious seconds to snatch the bag, or save his life. I chose the latter, so here we are. Neither of us even remotely entertained the idea this disaster would be the end results, so lay the fuck off him and get to packing. Now.”

  Kevin, Drake, and Clive left without saying another word. Everett couldn’t close his gaping mouth, stunned into silence at Dirk’s words. He appreciated the man sticking up for him.

  Denaryl walked over and asked, “It’s going to happen everywhere there’s a reactor, right? All over the world?”

  Everett nodded.

  “Jesus, the whole world is fubared. In more ways than one,” Denaryl whispered. “Hurry up and figure out where I need to fly to, because I’m ready to get into the clouds.”

  Denaryl walked out of the room, leaving a bewildered Everett staring at his rigid back. “What does fubared mean?”

  “Fucked up beyond all recognition,” Dirk answered.

  “Quite the appropriate acronym.”

  “Yeah, quite. Come on, Doc. Let’s get moving so we won’t be in the same boat.”

  CHRISTMAS IN A CAVE - Thursday, December 25th – 2:15 p.m. – Central Standard Time

  “Lamar, aren
’t you gonna eat? You haven’t touched your food.”

  Lamar Wilson looked up from his plate, Martha’s words bringing him back to the present conversation. “Sorry, not too hungry at the moment. I’ll eat later. Promise.”

  Martha shook her head. “No, you’ll eat now, and let out whatever’s crawlin’ around inside your head. Remember, we’re supposed to share our thoughts, and it’s obvious you’ve got some rollin’ around. Talk. We’re listenin’.”

  Lamar wasn’t the kind of man given to bouts of emotion. After his wife died of cancer twelve years prior, he’d shut himself off, pouring all his efforts into being a prepper. Filled the lonely hours after work with research, and the companionship with the others in the prepper group, to satisfy his needs.

  How was he supposed to tell them what he’d heard in the woods yesterday? The three women and a young, injured boy, were already teetering on the edge of hysteria. Jane spent the entire night pacing back and forth, only stopping to stare at the entrance. Martha busied herself by doting on Turner, while Jesse gabbed non-stop. All of them were worried about their loved ones, so how could Lamar dump the news?

  The worry about a nuclear disaster had been a nagging thought in the back of Lamar’s mind since yesterday. When everything went down in Malvern and they escaped to the mountains, Lamar was so mentally and physically exhausted, he’d forgotten all about the dangers lurking in Russellville. He’d been too busy grappling with the knowledge the dead were walking and interested in eating the flesh of others.

  Now, he was beyond terrified.

  “Lamar? You’re as pale as a ghost. What’s goin’ on?” Jane asked.

  “Nothin’. Just thinkin’ about how this is the weirdest Christmas ever. Eatin’ soup and canned peaches inside a cave. Glad I’m not alone. Grateful to be surrounded by a fine group of people. Things like that.”

  Turner shifted positions, grunting with the effort. “I call bullshit. Pardon me for sayin’ so, but you don’t just look like a ghost. You look like you’ve seen one. Come on, Lamar. We’re family. All each other’s got, so share. There ain’t none of us gonna judge you for whatever’s on your mind.”