Catalyst (Book 3): Ghost Country

by Franks, JK

  They felt the little boat rising quickly―out the side windows they could see the color shifting from the light green to a deeper blue. Scott had no idea how far up the wave they would rise before being flipped and tossed under, but he held onto DeVonte and wrapped his legs around Jack. Then, it was over. The wave subsided without cresting and they gently rode it back down to normal sea level, although they were traveling at an incredible speed which took several more minutes to bleed off. “Deep water, guys. We should be ok now.” He turned to the pilot and indicated the Navy ship fifteen miles out. “Radio ahead that we have one, possibly two, trauma cases coming in.” He went back to check on his friends.

  Chapter Seventy

  Gulf of Mexico

  Skybox helped carry DeVonte from the barely intact Interceptor boat. The bullet had passed through the kid’s thigh but seemed to have missed the major artery. The ship’s medical team was waiting with a gurney for him and Jack. DeVonte stopped them while he reached out and grabbed Jack’s hand as Todd, Scott and Krychek were lifting him onto his gurney. “Hang in there, Preacher.” Jack partially opened one eye and offered a feeble smile to the boy.

  They whisked both of the injured away into the darkened bowels of the ship. Skybox watched the receding figures, “He will get the best care anywhere.” Todd was unable to speak, Scott just nodded.

  Scott knelt absently scratching behind Solo’s ears. The dog was not a fan of affection but allowed the man’s gentle touch. “All this for nothing.”

  The comment stung Skybox. It had been his plan; these injuries were on him, and it showed. “Not totally for nothing, Montgomery.”

  Scott made eye contact with a questioning expression. Skybox turned to nod his head indicating he should follow. The two men walked back to an open hatch and stepped out to get a view back toward the coast. The dark smudge of smoke hanging in the air clearly indicated the impact site. All Scott could think about was all the poor souls in that little town. All gone now.

  “You see?” Skybox was pointing farther to the west. Just coming into view over the horizon was a ship. After several minutes, they could tell it wasn’t just a ship, it was a tanker.

  “Is that…”

  Skybox nodded, “The kid in there had a good idea in that meeting. Why not just sneak into the commercial tank and steal what we needed? We discovered the tanker a few days ago moored at an offshore pumping station. Your man, Scoots, and a few of our guys managed to reverse the flow from the diesel storage tanks. While we were waiting for you and Tommy to come over from Harris Springs, I had them begin pumping. They topped her off and slipped away about an hour before you arrived. The Volestaad there is full of 100% commercially refined diesel. They are en route to the Bataan and from there to top-off your Aquatic Goddess. The rest will be split between the Army and Navy.”

  “Well, damn.” It had worked, Scott thought. They would have enough food and fuel to leave. Looking down at the blood covering his hands and clothes, though, it still didn’t feel like a fair trade. He looked back inside to where Todd was still standing. “Thanks, Sky…I need to go check on him. You know...”

  Skybox nodded understanding fully. He watched as Scott took Todd by the arm and led him in the direction they had taken Jack and DeVonte. Solo eased up off his haunches and padded behind them softly.

  The surgical nurse came out first, her scrubs covered in sweat, bloody stains running far up her arms. She had a grave look as she stripped off the latex gloves. “You guys, come with me,” she pointed at Todd and Scott. They rose and followed her back through the hatch and into an area portioned off by thick plastic curtains. She stopped short and turned, “You know the damage…”

  Todd stopped her, “We understand, he…he’s not going to make it,” he stuttered. “Is he conscious?”

  She nodded, “Coming out of it now, but he’s very weak. Probably only has minutes, no idea how he is still hanging on.” Any lingering hope the men might have been holding onto began to dissipate.

  “Because he is a fighter. He’s our Jack.”

  Scott held onto Todd tightly. The man was clearly coming apart at the seams. As they entered the tiny cubicle, Jack lay rigidly on the pristine white sheets. He was hooked to IVs and monitors, some showing alarms, but mercifully, all had been muted. His eyes fluttered open, and he slowly focused on Todd.

  “Hey, Brother,” he said weakly as he clumsily felt for, then grasped Todd’s outstretched hand. Todd leaned over and put his head on Jack’s shoulder hugging him gently with the other arm.

  “Hey,” was all he could muster through the flood of tears.

  “How’s the kid doing?”

  “Not sure yet, but they said he would be fine, he’s still being worked on,” Scott said.

  Jack nodded weakly and struggled to focus on Scott. “Tell Gia I’m sorry, I don’t think I…” He grimaced as some pain shot through his body. “I, oh, damn.” He sighed and waited for it to pass. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to give her away like I planned.”

  Scott took the man’s other hand and fought back the tears. He had no idea what to say. Jack’s breathing got a bit more erratic, and his eyes became unfocused. “Thank you,” he managed to say. “Thanks for coming to get us.”

  Scott smiled, “It was a nice day for a ride.”

  Jack nodded with a feeble smile. “Take care of Cap here, okay? He needs you. Bartos too, tell him I’m sorry and that…that I love him.”

  Scott stopped fighting back the well of tears and they began to flow. “Jack, thank you. Thanks for saving me that day. We all owe you so much more than you would ever admit,” the words barely coming out between the sobs.

  Jack let go of Scott's hand and reached up to him. Scott leaned down into the man's weak embrace. “I’m ready, Brother, don’t be sad; it’s not the end. Sometimes sacrifice is worth it if it offers life to loved ones.” He struggled to take in a breath, and Scott and Todd both ached for their friend.

  Jack gasped with the tiny amount of air he could take in and motioned to his green rucksack hanging on the wall. Scott took it down and handed it to Todd who opened it to find a worn leather Bible. While outwardly, Jack hadn’t felt deserving of God’s love since the battle with the Prophet, inwardly, he couldn’t deny a lifetime of faith and service to his Savior. A page was marked with a paper clip. Todd read it aloud for his lifelong friend. John 15:13 was highlighted. “For the greatest love of all is a love that sacrifices all. And this great love is demonstrated when a person sacrifices his life for his friends.”

  Todd read several more of the marked Bible passages, and Jack lay still for a very long time. His eyes continued to move from Todd to Scott. His struggle almost over, tears began to well up in his eyes and slip silently down his weathered cheeks. He final words were a mere whisper, “Love you guys. I will miss you!”

  Chapter Seventy-One

  Mount Weather Annex, Virginia

  Two days earlier, President Chambers had been in full-blown panic mode. The call from Levy could not have been clearer. She had signed her death warrant in firing the KEP device, the one code named Thor’s Hammer, at the oil field. The weapon’s operational capacity was the one bright spot in months of darkness for her. “Ed!” she called out in frustration. Where is he?

  Her presidency was over, she had no illusions about that. Levy had said as much on the call. Now, she was scrambling to put an escape plan into play. Something to cover her immediate departure from Mount Weather. Sadly, she only had one card left to play. Her chief of staff walked through the metal door with a look of resignation. “Yes, ma’am?”

  Ma’am, she thought, not even Madam President any longer. “Ed, have my chopper ready. We’re leaving. Please have my bags loaded.” The man shrugged, he was the chief of staff, not her personal valet, but he would handle it for her.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said with great effort.

  “Any casualty reports from the Gulf? Did we get the bastards?”

  He knew ‘the bastards’
she meant were the military presence, not the hundreds of her own people she had killed in the attack or the nearby town full of civilians. “Navy was mostly unaffected, the Army presence in the area was all eliminated.”

  She flashed her once famous smile and nodded in appreciation. Levy was an idiot, never around when it was important. The rebels had to go. It was time to play her trump card, her ace in the hole. She picked up the phone and clicked one of the pre-programmed numbers. Ed watched as she spoke to someone on the other end. “Release the variant, then let them go.” She paused briefly, listening to the reply. “Yes, all of them, that is an order. Do it now.”

  She clicked off and turned to see her chief of staff was now holding a gun, and it was pointing at her. Her immaculate red lips smiled as she saw. “Edward, are we having a moment?” The man took a step closer.

  “What did you just do? Call them back and cancel it, whatever it was.”

  She smiled again and tossed him the phone. “You figure it out.” She looked at the unassuming man. “I was wondering who she had on my staff. Should have known it would be the top man. I take it you weren’t some hot-shot Wall Street whiz then, eh?”

  He grabbed the phone out of the air and thumbed to find the last number dialed. No name, and judging by the 881 prefix, it was an iridium-based number—not one of their government phones. Probably one of her independent contractors. Mercenaries, he thought. He clicked the safety off. “Lady, the country is going to be much better off to be rid of you.”

  The Tomahawk cruise missile had been fired from the Ticonderoga class warship far off the Atlantic Coast forty minutes earlier. It impacted the Mount Weather facility at over 550 miles per hour. The shock wave of the first warhead reached deep into the compound, knocking the chief of staff from his feet. He scrambled to level the gun at the retreating woman, but she was already gone. The ceiling started to rain down, along with tons of concrete and dirt. Within minutes, three more of the cruise missiles wreaked destruction throughout the facility.

  As the dust began to clear, Madelyn Chambers exited from an escape tunnel deep underground. She could hear secondary explosions going off above. She brushed a bit of dirt from the charcoal gray Hermes power suit and walked briskly to the Beast, the heavily armored presidential limo she had kept stashed here in the underground garage. Her driver was always on call, although they had not driven anywhere since her swearing in. She saw him looking out a side window at the rain of debris from the mountain above. “Driver…now! Get us out of here!”

  “Ma’am,” he said nervously, also noticing she had no security detail. “You, um, you want to go out there?”

  “No, you fucking moron, I want to stay here and be buried under this goddamn mountain. Get the car started or give me the keys.” She may have failed at being president, but a lifetime in Washington had taught her one thing – how to survive.

  The man rushed over, clicking a remote as he ran, to start the engine of the massive Cadillac CT6 limo. “I got that,” he said as he took her two bags and dropped them in the trunk before opening her door. “Madam President, uh…you do know what’s outside, right? I mean, you know, infected?”

  Well, shit, she thought. She had actually forgotten that, but it wasn’t like she had many options. “Just get us away from here. Head to the coast of North Carolina.” Before things got bad, she’d quietly moved her presidential yacht out of the Potomac down the coast to the seaport in Wilmington, North Carolina. It was stocked with provisions to last years with the small crew she kept on board.

  They watched as the heavy, steep doors rolled up and away; the dusty sunlight shown through a rubble-strewn field outside. Beyond that, were multiple rows of high fence lined with row upon row of people scrambling and clawing to get inside. Not people she knew, infected. Fuck it, they could have this place and anyone inside who survived. She had the antidote, she knew she couldn’t catch the disease, but that didn’t mean she was safe. The infected were like wild animals; if they could get the car stopped, they would tear both her and the driver apart.

  As the driver sped out the cavernous opening, he eyed her in the rear-view mirror. ”Madam President,” he said tentatively, “if I open the gate, no way it will close after us. Those….things will be inside the compound.”

  She nodded. “What’s your name?”

  “Biggs, ma’am, Ted Biggs.”

  “Ted, everyone inside that mountain is already dead. If we don’t get out of this horde in the next few minutes, we are going to be as well. Fuck the gates, just get us out of here.”

  If he had any remaining doubts, they disappeared as another missile came screaming directly over the car, detonating deep inside the lower levels of the mountain. The detonation shook the heavy limo violently, but they kept heading for the double gates which were slowly beginning to swing open.

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  Harris Springs, Mississippi

  A light rain fell as Scott and Todd disembarked the small transport boat and escorted an honor guard carrying Jack’s body back home to Harris Springs. Ghost leapt quickly from the boat and disappeared into the nearby woods, he was followed by Solo seconds later. Skybox helped DeVonte to a waiting wheelchair and began rolling him toward the AG. Scott was tired of thinking of the losses and gains. It was all becoming too much. Right now, he just wanted to honor his friend’s memory. They looked up to see every deck and many of the balconies on the enormous cruise ship lined with people from the community.

  Scott wasn’t sure how everyone knew, but was grateful for the show of love for the man. Both Bartos and Angelique stood stoically by the gangway. As they neared, the expression of pain was evident on their faces. Angel ran to DeVonte, Bartos hobbled over and looked at them. He put an arm around Todd, and after several minutes, pulled Scott in as well. Nothing was said, words were both unnecessary and wholly inadequate for this homecoming.

  Scott left Todd with Bartos and walked up the ramp alone. He was fighting a range of emotions and wanted nothing more than to have a drink and curl up beside Gia. He knew she would be furious with him for going, but he felt confident she would keep that to herself for now. As he passed through the ship's corridors, people nodded respectfully. Many touched him on the arm or back in a reassuring manner, but nothing could ease the pain of losing his friend.

  He entered his stateroom cabin to find it empty. The bed was still made-up, and Gia’s go-pack was not in its familiar place. Is she still not back? They’d been away on the Navy ships for several days. Surely, she wasn’t still at the other lab. Maybe she came back to find I was off doing something stupid and just had enough. He fell across the empty bed, the stress, fatigue and misery finally catching up with him.

  Gia still wasn’t back for the service for Jack two days later. It was a simple, bittersweet affair, both spiritual and, at times, irreverent. Todd led the memorial, and it seemed almost cathartic for him to relive some of the memories from happier days. “Jack always said I saved him. Liz and me…he was in a tough spot back then, but the truth was—he saved us. Truthfully, I’ve never known a man with so much love.”

  Other stories were along the same lines. Everyone seemed to have their favorite Jack saying, and half-way through the service, the audience was in tears, not just from pain, but from laughing so hard. Scott looked to the empty seat beside him, concern growing over Gia’s delay in returning. Commander Garret hadn’t heard from her, the other lab normally radioed well ahead of time for a pick-up. The lab had also not responded to any of the Bataan’s calls. It isn’t like her.

  Kaylie sat to his left and gave a little nudge when it was his turn. Glumly, he walked up to the podium, hugging the woman who’d just spoken—one of Jack’s long-time church members. He took a sip of water and looked up at the crowd; it appeared that every member of the AG community was here.

  “How do you describe a man like Preacher Jack? A man so at odds with what he was, yet also completely comfortable with his place in the universe. He made no pretenses that he
was just a man, but he was a man of faith. Inside him burned a passion that few of us could ever match. Jack told me once that he really wasn’t afraid to die, he just didn’t want to be there when it happened.” The audience let out a polite chuckle and heads nodded to one another.

  Scott looked around the room and then tucked his notes back in his pocket. “Let me give you the truth. Truth is…my heart is breaking. Not just for me, but for Todd and Bartos and all of you that knew this wonderful man. Many of you are aware of what happened in the battle with the Messengers. Jack won that battle for us, won it by battling the leader alongside Roosevelt and Tommy.” He gave a nod of acknowledgment to the older black man sitting in the front row.

  “Later, Jack felt like he had traded a piece of his soul for that victory. He told me he felt broken after the ordeal. He wasn’t alone in that ugly truth, but I’m not sure any of us bore the heavy burden that he did. Jack never spoke of that day being held hostage by the man calling himself the Prophet. Not long ago, Mister Roosevelt relayed to me some of what was said, though. In the end, he’d tried to teach that evil bastard a lesson of love and forgiveness. He said, ‘What love you leave behind is the true measure of a man. What you are holding onto is measured by who you are willing to die for.’”

  He paused, tears streaming down his face, as was the case with most of those looking back. “Let’s face it, surviving out there now is damned hard. Jack gave his life to save us. He knew the cost and paid it without complaint. In the end, he knew his actions had given us a chance, given us another day, given us hope. When we fight…and be damned sure we will have to, I fight for him, ‘cause he fought for you.” He looked skyward, “Take a break, Preacher, you’ve done enough. I will miss you, you goofy bastard, with all my heart. God bless you, friend, and thank you for being a part of all our lives.” Scott walked away from the podium to absolute silence.