by Scott Cramer
Ensign Royce pushed her at an easy pace. Along the route, he exchanged greetings with several other adults. The ride ended in Sandy’s room, where he put Abby on the bed.
“Do you know my sister, Lisette?”
“Yes, I believe I have had the pleasure of meeting her.” He smiled and spoke in a warm, joking tone, but the eyes of the big gentle bear filled with sadness.
A chill rippled down Abby’s spine. “What’s wrong?”
The ensign walked over to a TV mounted in the corner. The screen was divided into four equal sections. Three of the sections showed areas outside the compound. In the remaining quadrant, children were playing inside. He pointed to them. “This is the Generation M quarters. Keep your eye out. Maybe you’ll see Lisette.”
The ensign went to work on hooking Abby up to an IV.
“Don’t open the door for anyone,” he said when he finished, and then he turned off the light, stepped outside, and Abby heard the click of the lock engaging.
She focused on the monitor. Some of the children in blue uniforms were playing tag. Others were playing chess. A few were reading books.
Betting that Touk was playing tag, she scanned the Generation M kids, trying to spot a head of red, curly hair. Abby’s drooped from exhaustion.
Toucan raced out of the cabin. Abby, standing at the end of the dock, bent her knees and braced herself, ready to catch her sister. But Touk ran right by her as if Abby didn’t exist, jumping into the water and making a big splash.
4.04
ALPHARETTA
Dawson paced by the plant’s door that he had left open a crack so he could hear if a vehicle approached. While he hoped it would be Sandy and a team of scientists accompanied by Abby, Toby, and Maggie coming to fire up the pill manufacturing process, he knew it could just as easily be Mathews, returning to detonate the C4.
He had placed all twelve charges outside. A massive explosion one-hundred meters from the plant ought to give Lieutenant Mathews pause.
After that little surprise, how long could he fight her off? Not long.
The only weapons he had managed to procure were seven fire extinguishers: three for chemical fires, three for electrical fires, and one all-purpose.
He had built a barricade with fifty-five-gallon drums of a chemical reagent. All he had to do was roll the last one in place.
For Dawson, one battle had already begun. He fought the urge to sprint to the CDC bunker to help Sandy.
He had figured out how the scientists knew he was in the area. Perkins and Mathews had intercepted the note he’d placed in the cadet’s medical records.
Knowing he could do nothing for Sandy, he told himself he belonged at the plant, where he could make a stand, possibly his last.
He unfolded the photocopy of Sarah’s picture and swallowed the lump in his throat as he gazed at his daughter. After failing to search for her when he was at Colony East, he had been given a second chance, and now Sarah was recovering from AHA-B in the care of responsible kids.
But what kind of life would she have if they failed to make and distribute pills to the hundreds of thousands of other sick kids?
Dawson hefted a fire extinguisher. If Mathews wanted a fight, he would give her one.
DAY 5
CDC BUNKER
Abby heard hushed voices, but when she tried to open her eyes, it felt like her eyelids were glued shut. She went to rub her eyes for relief, but one arm seemed to be tied to something, and the other weighed a thousand pounds.
“Can we trust Doctor Ramanathan?”
“Yes.”
Ensign Royce had asked the question and Sandy had answered.
Abby opened her eyes a crack. She was in Sandy’s living quarters. Her right wrist was secured to a bedrail with a belt, and an IV needle was taped to the top of her hand. Five adults, including Sandy and Ensign Royce, were seated at a table in the corner. She recognized Doctor Levine from Colony East. The other two wore jumpsuits, the type worn by the Navy. One was a woman with red hair and a freckled face, and the other a man who looked to be in his late teens.
A whiteboard on the wall had the names: PERKINS, DROZNIN, MATHEWS, RYAN, BEECHAM.
A digital clock gave the time as 02:58. Was it day or night? Abby realized it was nighttime when she saw the TV monitor. Spotlights illuminated the external views, and the quadrant where the Generation M kids had been playing was deserted. The kids must be sleeping.
“Miss Sleepy is awake,” Ensign Royce said.
Sandy approached the bed and placed her hand on Abby’s forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” Abby said, though it came out as a croak. Her mind was still a little foggy, and her stomach rumbled, but the cramps were gone.
Sandy removed the IV needle, undid the belt, and helped her sit up. She introduced the two Navy personnel. The young-looking man was Ensign Parker, and the freckly-faced woman was Petty Officer Murphy. Sandy told Abby to stay in bed and rest. She returned to the table, and the adults continued their discussion.
“We can make antibiotics, but we have no way of distributing them,” Ensign Royce said.
“Let’s worry about making the pills first,” Sandy said. “When we’re at the plant, we need to protect ourselves. Mathews has locked up all the weapons.”
Levine pointed to the white board. “We can’t trust them, but we need the support of everyone else inside the bunker.”
Ensign Parker pointed to the TV. “We can send everyone a message over the monitors. Tell them what we’re trying to do. Ask for help.”
“Ensign Ryan will stop you,” Sandy said.
“I can get access to the communications center.” Parker rapped the table with his knuckles and grinned. “I’ll worry about Ryan.”
“The minute Perkins sees one of us on a monitor, he’ll order a lockdown,” Doctor Levine said.
Parker nodded. “That’s true, but it will also create a diversion. There will be a small window of time for you to leave in a vehicle. I can pre-record the message here. When I play it, that’s when you go.”
“If you’re in the communications center, how will you get out?” Ensign Royce asked Parker.
“He won’t,” Murphy answered.
“Hey, someone has to do it,” Parker said, grinning and acting as though it were no big deal. He turned serious. “I worked for Admiral Samuels at Colony East. I don’t know what happened to him, but he didn’t die of a heart attack.” His voice choked. “I’m doing this for the old man.”
There was a long moment of silence.
Ensign Royce turned to Sandy. “You should give the message. Everyone respects you.”
Sandy was nodding when Abby spoke up. “I know what the epidemic is doing to kids, and I’ve had the Pig. I’ll do it.”
The adults faced her with blank expressions, leading her to wonder if they had forgotten she was in the room with them.
“They might respond to her,” Ensign Royce said. “How many of the scientists have actually seen a survivor?”
“I’d listen to her,” Murphy said.
“What do we do with her afterward?” Doctor Levine asked the others.
“Take her with you to the plant,” Ensign Parker said.
“It won’t be safe there,” Sandy said. “Perkins and Mathews will come for us.”
Abby stood and steadied herself. The absence of cramps was a strange sensation. “My friend, Toby, went to the plant. That’s where I want to go.”
“I suppose it’s safer than anyplace else,” Levine said.
“All right. Does everyone agree that Abby should be the one to give our message?” Sandy asked.
All the adults nodded.
Abby’s blood turned cold at a sudden thought. “Will my sister be safe?”
“Now that you mention it, Doctor Perkins will know right away that you are Lisette’s sister,” Sandy said. “He’s unpredictable. I can’t say what he’ll do. I really think one of us should deliver the message.”
Abby�
�s mind went blank, but a debate raged in her blood and bones. How could she put Touk’s life at risk? Couldn’t one of the adults deliver the message just as well as she could? She knew in her heart they couldn’t.
“I’m ready to tell the truth about what’s happening out there.” Wobbly knees told her she wasn’t ready, but she would speak up anyway.
Ensign Parker stood. “I’ll get a video camera.”
A knock on the door froze everyone in place. The adults glanced at each other with terrified expressions. Sandy crept to the door and looked through the peephole.
“It’s Droznin,” she whispered and turned off the light. The glow from the digital clock dappled them in faint red light.
Abby’s adrenaline surged, knowing that the scientist who had infected her with the Pig stood on the other side of the door, the person Abby had shot.
The knocking continued.
They spoke in whispers.
“What does she want?”
“Invite her in. We’ll grab her.”
“Just wait. She’ll leave.”
When it was evident the Russian scientist wasn’t going away, Sandy opened the door a crack. “Doctor Droznin?”
“I’m sorry to bother you at this hour, Doctor Hedrick, but it’s important. I’d like to discuss your autopsy results. I’m concerned about the efficacy of the antibiotic.”
Sandy yawned. “I can write up a report for you.”
“It will just take a minute.”
Another yawn. “Doctor Droznin, I’ve had a really long day.”
Sandy closed the door. Droznin knocked again.
“She’ll go to Perkins if you don’t let her in,” Levine whispered. “He’ll send Mathews to kick down the door.”
Sandy held up her hands. “Get ready.”
Ensign Parker and Ensign Murphy got into position, one behind the door, one to the right of it.
Sandy opened the door. “Please, come in.”
In a flash, the lights were on and the door shut. Ensign Parker wrapped his arms around the scientist, and Murphy held her hand against Droznin’s mouth. Sandy picked up the crutches that had crashed to the floor.
Droznin’s eyes widened when she saw Abby.
“I’ll take my hand away if you promise to stay quiet,” Murphy said.
Droznin nodded.
Ensign Parker maneuvered the scientist into a chair and secured her hands behind her back with the belt that had secured Abby’s hand to the bedrail.
Staring at Abby, Droznin whispered, “Remarkable. They said you drowned.”
“Does she look like she drowned?” Murphy said, stripping the pillowcase. “One more peep out of you and this is going in your mouth.”
Ensign Parker slipped out of the room to get the video camera. When he returned, he instructed Abby to stand against a blank wall, and then he aimed the video camera directly at her. A tiny red light on the casing blinked on.
“Any time,” he said.
Butterflies fluttered in her empty stomach, and then she remembered the words Mark had spoken to her over the radio after she had escaped Colony East. “Keep your shoulders back.”
Abby did just that. “My name is Abby Leigh. I’m fifteen years old. I was living on an island off the coast of Maine during the night of the purple moon. My parents died that night, and I had to care for my brother and sister ….”
The words tumbled out as she explained what it had been like to survive the first epidemic, and how kids had learned to work and live together. She spoke about setting up schools, medical clinics, and trading zones. She told them how the Pig struck, and instead of kids working together, they were fighting each other and suffering horrible deaths.
“We need your help to make the antibiotic pills. Kids will help with the distribution. I’m sure of it. It’s time to start over. Please.”
The room remained completely silent.
“I’ll help,” Doctor Droznin said. “I designed the Alpharetta facility. I can get it running.”
Murphy shot to her feet, ready to gag the scientist.
Sandy intervened. “Wait. She can save us a lot of time.”
Doctor Levine narrowed his eyes. “She’s known Perkins for twenty-five years. She’ll sabotage what we’re trying to do.”
They debated what to do with Doctor Droznin. Sandy wanted to give her a chance. Ensign Royce and Doctor Levine were against the idea.
Abby walked up to the scientist. “Why should we believe you?”
“I agree with what the colonies stand for,” Doctor Droznin said. “Every piece of data I’ve seen informs me that focusing a finite number of resources on a controlled population is the best way to establish a society of highly-educated citizens.
“But I have also started to question some of my assumptions after seeing what’s happening outside the bunker. I believe we should help the survivors. We need time to reassess our strategy.”
Abby looked for clues in Doctor Droznin’s eyes and her facial expression. Could they trust her? She saw nothing that helped her decide either way.
Something stirred deep inside of Abby, a faint voice, a feeling, and a memory of the way she used to think. People are good. They want to help one another.
Doctor Droznin maintained a serious, cold expression, and the voice inside Abby grew fainter, sputtering like a candle consuming the last bit of wax.
“I trust her,” Abby said before the flame died out. “I believe Doctor Droznin will help save lives.”
5.01
CDC BUNKER
Lisette giggled so hard her sides ached. Charlie was chasing Zoe around the big room, and he reached out to tag Zoe as she would zig or zag to avoid his hand.
Lisette, and practically every other girl from Unit 2A, stood off to the side and cheered for Zoe. The boys from Unit 2B stood on the opposite side of the room, naturally rooting for Charlie.
Mother raised her hands. “Please slow down.”
The shouting and laughing almost drowned out her voice.
Zoe suddenly stopped, and Charlie almost crashed into her.
“Got you,” he cried, eliciting a loud cheer from the boys.
Zoe didn’t seem to care that Charlie had caught her. She was staring at something else. When Lisette turned to see what Zoe looked at, she smiled in wonder.
A girl with red curly hair and freckles was on the TV monitor. Usually, that TV showed pictures of Generation M kids playing.
When the room quieted, they could hear her.
“We call it the Pig,” the girl said. “I had it. I know how awful the illness is, and I’ve seen what it does to other kids. It makes them desperate for food. They’ll do anything. Two months ago, those same kids were working together and forging lives for themselves. Now they are dying and fighting with each other.”
Lisette liked the girl’s voice, but she loved the girl’s hair even more.
5.02
CDC BUNKER
Doctor Perkins jolted forward in his chair. All four monitors featured a ratty-looking teen talking about the epidemic. He punched in the intercom code for the communications center. “Ensign Ryan, what is going on?”
Perkins recognized the child. It was ID 1002 from Colony East. Abigail Leigh had supposedly drowned in the Hudson River while attempting to escape the colony.
He put his lips almost in contact with the intercom’s microphone. “Ryan, respond!”
Perkins balled his fist. Dawson was behind this. He had lied about the girl drowning in the Hudson River. Now the lieutenant and 1002 had infiltrated the bunker. Dawson needed to be stopped.
To kill the video feeds and black out every monitor throughout the bunker, Perkins danced his fingers across his keyboard, but the command failed to execute. He frantically repeated the sequence.
“All of you can help by making and distributing pills. Kids will help with the distribution. I’m sure of it ….”
Someone in the communications room had taken control of the system. Unable to shut the girl up, he
drowned out her voice by tapping a key to sound the general alarm. The emergency light in his office flashed red, accompanied by a piercing wail.
The alarm, designed to warn of a wide range of threats from biological agent contamination to radiation exposure, started a chain of events. Lab doors were sealed. Teams of scientists jumped into hazmat suits, and Generation M went into lockdown in their living quarters.
He grabbed his two-way radio. “Captain Mathews.”
Her voice crackled back immediately, “I’m on my way to the communications center.”
“It’s Dawson,” he said, seething. “We have to stop him.”
“We’re ready for all threats,” she replied in such an angry growl that Perkins wondered if Mathews relished the thought of having a showdown between her and Dawson.
“I’ll meet you there,” he said and signed off.
He paused to collect himself before stepping outside his office. As a leader, it was important to project quiet confidence and wisdom.
He moved through the hallways at an unhurried pace, smiling and giving reassuring nods to those who jogged past him. The look in their eyes deeply concerned him. He sensed their fears and their doubt in his strategy to create the colonies. The Leigh girl had put both a face and voice to the tragedy.
Approaching the communications center, he heard a loud pounding above the screaming alarm. When he rounded the corner, he saw Captain Mathews banging on the door with the butt of her assault rifle.
He moved to her side. “Report.”
“Whoever’s in there has locked the door.”
“Dawson and the girl?” he asked.
Mathews flashed him the steely look of an assassin. “I’m ready for all threats. Please back away.”
Perkins stepped back, using his hand to shield his eyes from the flashing red beacon on the opposite wall.
Mathews attacked the door with powerful kicks, striking a spot next to the knob with her heel. Lab doors could survive the punishment, but the communications’ door was less secure, and it started to budge.
Someone on the other side pushed back, though. Mathews’s strikes would budge the door forward an inch, but then it would shut again.
