Apocalypse Island

by Hall, Mark Edward

  “What in the world is this?” Tall Tech asked. He was staring around the room, his mouth open in awe.

  “Monitoring equipment,” Spencer replied.

  “Yeah, I can see that, but what the hell is that?” He pointed toward the center of the massive room where a perfectly circular and futuristic-looking dome-shaped structure dominated. It was perhaps fifty feet in diameter and twenty feet tall, constructed of what looked like riveted stainless steel and surrounded by oval-shaped windows of thick transparent material. It could have been an alien spacecraft for all he knew. The room behind the windows was bright with a light so intensely blue that looking at it gave him a headache. It was as though the room contained its own mini sun brought here from some distant and exotic galaxy.

  “Holy shit,” said Short Tech.

  “Don’t stare directly into it until you put your glasses on,” Spencer warned.

  The two techs stopped and set the package gently onto the floor. They all pulled Polaroid sunglasses from their pockets and donned them. Tall Tech put his hands over his ears. The humming noise inside the room was dreadful, nearly making him sick.

  “Ear plugs won’t help much,” Spencer said. “It gets into your bones. Trust me, eventually you get used to it.”

  “I don’t know if I could ever get used to that,” replied Short Tech.

  “You won’t have to,” said Spencer. “Our work here is almost complete.”

  “Just as I remembered it,” Robeson said, staring rapturously—and a little bit warily—at the spectacle before him.

  Spencer frowned deeply. “But it’s not as you remember it, Red.”

  “Explain to me why that is?” said Robeson.

  “Whatever connection that thing had with those kids has been reactivated. We suspect it’s communicating with them again after all these years, drawing them back here. What we don’t know is why.”

  “According to my calculations, there aren’t many of those kids left,” Robeson said.

  “Four,” Spencer said. “After tonight there won’t be any.”

  Robeson nodded. Since becoming Portland’s police chief he’d been more than happy to be out of the loop and away from this awful place. His instructions had been clear: keep an eye on things, especially the island, and report any unusual activity. For the most part the past twenty years or so had been relatively quiet. There was all that shit with jack Higgins, but that was long over. And then things had heated up again five years ago when that big retard, Sam had escaped from Indian Lake, the CIA’s secret facility in New York State. And then while they were tracking him, the murder of that woman had complicated things, especially when they’d discovered that Sam had been at the murder scene along with another person suspected of being a woman. But Sam and his conspirator had disappeared and things had been relatively quiet, until recently. Actually he’d almost forgotten about the place. Almost. But he’d never been able to forget about the blue light. Oftentimes it haunted his worst nightmares.

  Short Tech moved closer to the dome, staring like he was enraptured. “My God,” he said. “I’ve never seen anything like it. What the hell is it? How did it get here?”

  Spencer smiled but to the tech it looked more like a grimace of pain. “The dome is man-made,” he said. “It was designed to contain it. Cutting edge shit, carbon composites, high tech ceramics and an amalgamation of some of the toughest armor-piercing metal known to man. The walls and glass are more than four feet thick.”

  “Is it dangerous?”

  “We don’t know for sure. But probably. That’s why we contained it. We figured it was best not to take chances.”

  “Yeah, but what the hell is it?”

  “No one knows exactly. It’s a rod of light but different from any light known to man.”

  “No shit,” Short Tech replied. “That’s the strangest color I’ve ever seen.”

  “It belongs to no known spectrum,” Spencer said. “And it has all sorts of properties that defy logic. It’s made of stuff we can’t even measure. There’s heat but not enough to compensate for all the light. It emits a steady hum in the 250 Hz narrowband and it never wavers. We believe its source is somewhere down in the earth but we’ve never been able to pinpoint it exactly. It exists in a shaft that’s too perfectly formed to be natural, and the strangest thing about it is its ability to telepathically communicate with certain individuals.”

  “You’ve got to be shitting me,” the tech said.

  “Wouldn’t think of it,” Spencer replied. “For more than thirty years teams of some of the most brilliant scientists in the world have studied it, and most go away scratching their heads. We’ve tested it in every way known to man and still we can’t figure out what the fuck it is. At first we thought it was unique to this island, but since its discovery several others have been located around the world. And they’re all exactly the same. It’s almost as if they exist in a separate universe than ours because we can’t wrap our brains around their particularities. There’s one in China, one in Africa, one on the island of Fiji, and recently another one was discovered—of all places—smack in the middle of Antarctica. There might even be more of them. We’re not sure. We don’t know what they are, where they came from or what the hell they’re doing here. They might be ancient or something relatively new. One theory is that they’re somehow connected. And the most interesting thing about them is that they seem to have some sort of telepathic influence over the natives in the areas where they’re located. It causes them to act in strange ways.”

  “What ways?”

  “Makes them homicidal for one thing.”

  “Jesus, so these things are alive, they have intelligence?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. The only thing we’ve been able to do is contain them and no one’s really sure if these things are contained or if they can actually be contained. Because we don’t know what they are or what they’re capable of. We have them hooked to all sorts of monitoring equipment including seismographs, and lately seismic activity is up, and not just in this one. They’re all becoming more active and we don’t have a clue why. They might be getting ready to do something for all we know. For obvious reasons they’re one of the most closely guarded secrets on the planet, and we definitely consider them a threat, especially when you consider that they have mental and emotional influence over human beings.”

  “The scientific community would like to continue studying them,” Spencer continued, “but the consensus amongst governments around the globe is that they pose a danger and need to be eliminated. Time for study is over.”

  So what’s gonna happen to the others?” Short Tech asked.

  Spencer looked at his watch. “In exactly two hours they’ll all be destroyed simultaneously. Yes, we’ve even got the Chinese on board.”

  Let me ask you something,” Robeson said. “What kind of damage can we expect from that thing?” He pointed at the footlocker. “I mean, this island is populated and the mainland is only five miles away.”

  “A detonation on the surface would be catastrophic for a wide area if this was a conventional nuke,” Spencer replied. “It’s not, and we’re not going to detonate it on the surface. There’s three hundred feet of solid bedrock between us and the surface.” He looked at Tall Tech. “You’re the expert. Why don’t you explain?”

  “This is a suitcase nuke,” said the tech. “The smallest nuke known to exist. Its design is based on the W54, a 10.6" x 15.7" cylinder, code named Davy Crockett, that was used both as a recoilless nuclear mortar for ground troops, and as a special atomic demolition munition, a hand-delivered nuclear time-bomb for attacking enemy ports. This one is code named SADM and it’s even smaller than the Davy Crockett at just 10.6" x 11.8" weighing in at just under 51 lbs. It is absolutely the smallest nuclear weapon ever built. The Davy Crockett had a 10-20 ton yield—intentionally kept low to be safe to those firing it—while this one has a variable yield between 10 and 15 tons.”

  “Yeah but what does this all mean in
terms of damage?”

  “Okay, to create a nuclear weapon requires a critical mass of a fissile material, and a chassis for a gun-type trigger or explosive lenses. A critical mass of uranium is about 10.5 kilograms or 23 lbs, 10.1 cm or 4 inches across. This is not enough to start a multiplicative chain reaction, but does produce enough radiation to be deadly if you were holding it. To produce a chain reaction requires upping the uranium just a bit. Just 10% over critical mass is sufficient to create a nuclear weapon with a yield of 10-15 tons. That’s what we have here. Detonated beneath the ground it’s going to do enough damage to take out this facility and everything in it, perhaps enough to put a small hole in the earth—although we hope that won’t happen—but not enough to take out the entire island.”

  “You hope that won’t happen?” Robeson said.

  “We spent weeks doing the calculations. We’re as sure as we can be. On the surface it’ll feel like a 5.0 earthquake. But that’s about it. Might shake some folks out of their beds but it’ll pass quickly.”

  “What about radiation?”

  “There’ll be some, but being this deep into the bedrock most of it will be contained.”

  “But what about the people who live on this island?” Robeson asked, addressing his question to Spencer. “What if some of that radiation does leak out?”

  “I thought I’d made myself clear on this,” Spencer said, his impatience evident in his tone. “This facility operates outside the umbrella of the United States intelligence community. Our orders are non-negotiable. They come down from the highest levels of authority, so high in fact, that the people who issue them don’t have names or faces. Regardless of possible consequences, we cannot and will not deviate from those orders. Do you understand?”

  Robeson nodded.

  “Do you have any idea how many questions there would be, or how big this could get if we tried to evacuate the island?” Spencer asked, his voice now conciliatory. “This way no one will ever know exactly what happened here. It’ll take years to sort it out. By then we’ll be long gone. It all ends tonight. Got it?”

  Again Robeson nodded, but he was feeling queasy inside, wondering who would be left holding the bag if it all went to shit.

  “Yeah, but what if this thing doesn’t destroy it?” asked Tall Tech. “Or worse, what if it just pisses it off?”

  “Those questions have all been addressed a thousand times,” Spencer replied. “Not my problem.”

  “How you wanna do this, Boss Man?” asked Short Tech. He was staring at the light-emitting room licking his lips, feeling a slight tug of influence on his willpower. Truth is he was on the verge of pissing in his pants. “We don’t have to go in there, do we?”

  “Oh yeah,” Spencer replied. “You definitely have to go in there. It’s the only way. The dome will help to contain the blast and direct it into the hole, right where we want it.”

  “Buh…but what if that thing is intelligent?” Tall Tech stammered. “You said you don’t know what the hell it is. What if it knows?”

  For a short moment Spencer’s mind went back to the orphanage days and he remembered the upscale in activity whenever they’d caused any of the children pain or distress.

  “Like I said, we’ve been studying it for more than three decades with barely a reaction out of it.”

  “Yeah, but you just said seismic activity is up and it has influence over people’s minds. What if it can read minds and it knows we’re trying to hurt it?”

  Spencer exhaled a weary sigh. He stood staring at the man for a long moment. Finally he said, “Can’t answer that. You signed on to do this job and you will do it. That’s final.”

  Tall Tech looked over at the strange blue light pulsing from the room, nodded and licked his lips.

  “My orders are non-negotiable,” Spencer said again. “You guys are to go in that room and arm the package with a two hour fuse. By the time it goes boom we’ll be halfway to Washington. End of story.”

  Chapter 125

  Wolf, standing at the vent, heard everything. He turned and looked at Eli in amazement. Eli motioned him away from the vent.

  “We can’t let them do it,” Wolf whispered when they were out of earshot. “This is crazy. They’re going to destroy something they don’t even understand.”

  Eli nodded his deformed head. “Yeah what’s new?” he said. “These are human beings we’re talking about.”

  Wolf said, “You need to show me where Laura is now.”

  “Last time I looked she had company.”

  “I don’t care. I need to get her out of here.”

  Eli pointed at the wall to their left and said, “There are men with guns on the other side of that wall.”

  Wolf decided not to ask Eli how he knew this. Instead he said, “Can we get around them?”

  Eli crawled back into the vent and Wolf followed. Back at the intersection Eli chose the second option. A hundred meters or so into the ductwork Eli stopped in front of another wall vent. He made a motion behind him with his hand for Wolf to be still and silent as he gazed cautiously through the vent.

  Wolf knew that Laura was nearby. He could smell her.

  Eli turned finally and said, “He’s gone. But he could come back any minute.” Using his small screwdriver, Eli then quickly extracted the vent screws, and with Wolf’s help, grasped the cover and lowered it to the floor. They stepped out into a dimly-lit corridor, moving carefully forward until they came to a door.

  “Storeroom,” Eli whispered. “This is where they put her.”

  Laura’s scent was overpowering now. Wolf could smell others as well, but Laura’s was strongest, telling him that she was closest to them. He pulled her automatic from his belt and surveyed the door’s lock.

  Chapter 126

  Laura was exhausted. Just when she had nearly given up hope that she would be able to free herself, the fingers of her right hand finally worked their magic, loosening the knot that bound her wrist to the bedstead. The hand, numb and prickly from the effort, lifted from the bed seemingly of its own volition, as though it were a helium-filled balloon. She tried to stretch her fingers out but her hand felt like a knob of wood with a thousand needles jabbing into it. After shaking the hand for a moment to get the feeling back in it she reached across and began clumsily untying her left hand.

  She froze, hearing whispered voices somewhere nearby. She upped her pace, fearful that she’d be caught before she could finally escape. When she was free she slid off the bed, and holding her hands out in front of her she moved gingerly toward the sound of the voices, hoping and praying that she had the strength to overcome that son-of-a-bitch before he subdued her again. She had a vague memory of his hands exploring her body, fondling her breasts and...

  A shudder worked through her. She couldn’t think about that now. She needed to concentrate. Her face throbbed, her hair was matted with blood and her head felt like it was about to explode. Even so, the ecstasy of finally being free sent a surge of adrenaline pumping through her system. She vowed that this time she’d fight to the death before she’d let that asshole lay another finger on her.

  She came to a wall and moved along it until she found what felt like a door. She stood very still and listened, but the voices had stopped.

  Chapter 127

  Wolf and Eli stood quietly on the other side of the door. Wolf could smell Laura strongly now, as if she was right next to him. Deciding to make a bold move, he said, “Laura? Are you in there?”

  “Danny?” Laura replied. “Is that you?”

  “It’s me. Are you all right?”

  “I can’t see a damned thing,” Laura said. “Get me out of here. Get me out of here, now!”

  Wolf tried the doorknob but it wouldn’t budge. He shoved the gun back in his belt and looked at Eli in frustration. Eli pulled the screwdriver from his pocket and started working on the lock. But it was taking too long. “There’s a key lock on this side of the door,” Wolf told Laura. “Feel around and see if you can unlock i
t from your side.”

  Laura ran her hands over the door until she felt the knob. Just above it she found the lock. One twist and she had the door open. With a sob she fell into Wolf’s arms.

  “Oh, Christ, Laura,” Wolf said when he got a look at her face. “Who did this to you?”

  “Now ain’t that cute,” someone said. “Lovers reunited.”

  Still holding each other they turned their heads to get a look at who’d spoken. There stood a man with a gun. It was only then that Wolf realized Eli had disappeared.

  “If you move I’ll kill you both,” the man said.

  “That’s the son-of-a-bitch who did this to me,” Laura said. “I think you guys know each other, right?”

  Chapter 128

  “Stop playing games, Seph,” Jennings said as they descended the steep staircase. “What the hell’s down there?”

  “I told you I don’t know what it is. You have to see for yourself.”

  Wilder motioned for Jennings to keep moving.

  When Jennings reached the bottom it struck him just how well-constructed, and how empty this place was. It seemed obvious that some sort of massive operation had once existed here. It had to have cost a fortune to put this all together. The walls were lined with bench-high electrical outlets and the ceiling was covered in row after row of fluorescent strip lighting, all of it on, all of it burning, as though the last person out had forgotten to turn off the lights.

  “What about cameras, Seph?” Jennings said. “Surely they’re watching our every move.”

  “There never were any cameras down here.”

  “What? A facility this protected and no monitoring equipment?”

  “Nope. Monitoring equipment’s too easy to hack into. Wasn’t worth the risk. They felt that the precautions they took were enough. For years they posted sentries, but once the technology was good enough they began watching from space.”