Chapter 58
Hours later, the survivors drunkenly stumbled to their individual rooms. As they walked, Leland smacked a friendly palm against Clay’s back, nodding firmly. “Thank you for that,” he said, his eyes far away. “I needed it.”
Clay nodded silently as he stepped into his room and closed his bedroom door. His ears still rang with Johnny Cash tunes. He collapsed upon his bed, fully clothed, his legs stretched out in front of him. He drummed his fingers against his taut stomach, trying to force the room to stop spinning.
Suddenly a knock came from the door. Clay cleared his throat, calling out, “Come in!”
Alayna appeared in the soft light from the hallway. Her black hair coursed down her shoulders and back, making her face look youthful and rather pretty, even with the slight mascara caked around her eyes from crying. “Mind if I come in?” she asked.
“Course not,” Clay said, beckoning. He rose up, leaning heavily against the bed’s backboard. Alayna sat next to him, staring at her kicking feet. “Quite a night we’ve had, huh?” Clay offered.
“Quite a night,” Alayna agreed. “I—I just don’t want to be alone.”
Clay felt the depth of her sadness. He reached for her shoulder, kneading at her tense muscles. “I know. Neither do I,” he said. “Too many thoughts to think. Too many memories.”
“Tons of memories from our time together,” Alayna agreed, smiling sadly. “I still remember my first day as your deputy. I was so frightened of you, until you took that bite of your burger.”
“And got mayonnaise all over my uniform. Yep. I remember,” Clay said, shocked at how easy his laughter came. “I couldn’t pretend to be any kind of big shot around you after that.”
Alayna smiled. “I was so confused about everything. But not about my career. I felt at home with you. I don’t know if that makes sense.” She looked at him, her vibrant, youthful body brimming with sexuality. Clay turned toward the window, alarmed by his sudden attraction to her. But he kept up the conversation, not wanting her to return to the hall.
“I know what you mean,” Clay said, sensing them ebbing toward unknown territory. “You were my work wife for all those years. I couldn’t have imagined having anyone else on the force.”
“A work wife?” Alayna said, giggling. “That’s such a sexist remark.” She smacked her palm lightly against his shoulder.
The moment he felt her touch, his pulse quickened. What was going on?
“I didn’t mean to offend,” Clay said. “I mean, all bets are off here, right? I’ve grown to care about you like family. You must know this.”
Alayna didn’t speak for a moment. The silence held between them. Clay swallowed, wondering if he’d crossed some kind of line. His drunken words had surely given her pause.
But Alayna tried to bridge the gap, to lighten the mood. She swiped at her tears. “Daniels tried to hit on me. What a bum, you know? But you know what I told him? I told him that I wouldn’t be with him if he was the last man on earth. It feels rather fitting, now,” she said, grinning. Suddenly, her eyes turned to Clay’s again. She lifted her face. “I don’t know how I would have reacted if it had been you. Probably very, very differently.”
Clay’s lips parted. In a moment of passion, he leaned toward her—his deputy, one of his best friends—and kissed her fully, wrapping his lips around her large bottom one. His head spun with the pleasure of it. Alayna’s scent coursed through his nose, making his groin stir.
Seconds later, he broke the kiss. “I can’t,” he said, wiping his fingers over his mouth. “I’ve never been unfaithful to Valerie. I’ve never even been with anyone else. Sure, I’ve always found you attractive. But I’ve never, in my wildest dreams, considered acting upon those feelings.”
Alayna tilted her head and lifted her hand to his cheek, stroking his grizzled cheek. He eyed her breasts, rising and falling beneath her white undershirt. “But Clay,” she whispered, “I’m the last woman on earth. And tomorrow, none of this will matter. We’ll all be dust tomorrow.”
Clay contemplated her words for a long time. Finally, he dove into her. He wrapped his arms around her, clinging to her, and kissed her fully, without looking back. They became a flurry of wild limbs, tossing clothes to the floor and fulfilling a destiny they’d never really imagined. Clay felt the warmth and smoothness of her skin as he unsnapped her bra. Thoughts of the outside world or of their impending doom no longer filled him. Rather, his mind and body and spirit were fueled with thoughts of Alayna only.
They made love deep into the night.
Chapter 59
When Clay awoke, Alayna wasn’t in his bed. He stretched out beneath the sheets, feeling his bones creaking, remembering how wonderful it had been to coil himself around her warmth, to listen to her breathing as she fell into sleep. The feeling didn’t last, though. Waves of regret plummeted through his mind.
With a jolt, he remembered this was the last day of his life. He dropped his feet to the frigid ground, dressed, and opened his door, listening. Down the hallway, at the bar, he caught images of several of the survivors, holding pots and pans and speaking amicably.
He joined them, noting that he was the last of the party to awake. Alayna sat at the edge of the bar holding a mug of coffee. She gave him a sideways smile, looking sheepish. Norah had cooked several omelets, a large vat of breakfast potatoes, and sausages, and someone had set the table again: a reminder that, for these hours only, they were still human. They could still appreciate beautiful things.
Alayna sat across the table from him. She eased her foot along his beneath the table, unbeknownst to anyone else. This was their secret, their first and final affair.
“Let’s eat,” Daniels said, diving into the bowl of potatoes and filling his plate. The others followed suit, eating heartily without speaking. Their final sustenance was salty and greasy and good, filling Clay’s hungover stomach and making him feel whole again.
As their forks and knives began to clink back to their plates, Jacobs cleared his throat, wiping his napkin over his lips. His eyes were dark, ominous. “I have something to say,” he began.
Clay turned toward him, curious. “What is it?” he asked, standing as the spokesperson for the wide-eyed crew of survivors. “Whatever it is, you can tell us.”
Jacobs sighed heavily, splaying his palms on the table. After a brief hesitation, he began. “I’m the cause of all of this,” he said.
“But, the meteor—” Norah gasped.
Jacobs shook his head, interrupting. “No. Norah, I’m sorry. Just let me finish.”
Clay was frozen, his emotions in turmoil. He couldn’t feel anger. It wouldn’t be worthwhile. He wanted to think of Valerie, and what a beautiful life they’d had together, but all he could think of was the passion he and Alayna had shared last night. He knew he should feel terrible, but in the end, he just wanted to feel.
“You said you wanted to know who I am. Well, I’m a scientific researcher contracted by the Department of Defense. I’m involved in the creation and development of nanite technology for the military. Carterville was chosen as one of the locations for this development. I can’t say why. I wasn’t involved in that decision.
“The research and experimentation was, initially, going quite well. We hoped to inject nanites into human hosts, with the intent of giving humans higher strength, above-average mental aptitude, and increased stamina. All things you’d expect and want in a soldier, yes?”
No one answered him. He had the floor. The air was electric with the others’ focus on his words.
“Throughout the experiment, the nanites continued to die off after a very short period, after around forty-eight hours. This was not the desired effect. Extending their lifetimes was dangerous. But of course, in the interest of science and research, we wanted to push their effectiveness and activity period. It was one of the higher-up’s idea to have the nanites learn to replicate themselves, thus extending the duration of their effectiveness.
“At firs
t the experimentation had resounding success. But then, something changed. The nanites became autonomous and started taking over the human host, until the takeover was irreversible. You see, once the nanites have a human host, they can continue to survive indefinitely. The next step in their evolution was that they figured out a way to jump from host to host. They’re really quite extraordinary, almost intelligent. And . . . the only way to stop them is by ceasing all brain activity in the host.”
Clay remembered the moment that he’d lifted his gun to Cliff Henderson’s crazed head, blasting grey matter across the jail cell wall. He shivered. It felt like a million lifetimes ago.
“As you’ve probably seen, once the nanites mutate, they create psychotic behavior in their hosts.”
“The people who attacked my sister?” Brandon breathed, his face calm, accepting the words. Everyone else remained silent, allowing the truth to unfold before them. It was far more horrifying than they’d initially thought. It was purposeful.
“She died?” Jacobs asked.
Brandon nodded almost imperceptibly. “She was mauled by those . . . monsters. Just like my parents were.”
“I’m afraid so,” Jacobs continued, bowing his head. “And the meteorite? That was just a fluke. A lucky, cosmic event that allowed us to hide what was truly going on. In the end, we were able to evacuate the city without divulging the nature of the DOD project. How about that.” He dropped his hands into his lap, clearly irritated, wanting the story to be over. But he continued.
“When I signed on for this job, I knew the risks involved. I did. I knew this could happen—although it was highly unlikely.” He tilted his head, mulling over his words. “But here we are, with this outbreak ultimately contained inside the energy field. The fumigation that Colonel Wallace described is just a ruse. The solution is much more extreme. There’s a neutralizing device that will go off, and the moment it does—in just a few hours—all living tissue in the containment zone will die. This way, the world outside will remain safe from this humanity-destroying catastrophe.” He paused, finalizing his story. “So you see, we have to die here. But we’re doing it so the rest of the world can live.”
“But we saw them on the outside,” Norah whispered. Her eyes traced toward Clay’s. “Didn’t we? We saw them. Outside the energy field?”
Clay nodded. The nightmarish recollection of the crazed rushing toward them from the burning, smoking vehicle on the highway before fizzling into blood and guts during their attack made him see red. Clay scoffed, suddenly wishing he hadn’t eaten so much breakfast. “Leland, it seems that your brilliant and reckless plan is far too late. It’s too late for everyone, not just for us.”
Chapter 60
“What do you mean, outside?” Jacobs asked, his voice coming harshly. “How could they?” He breathed heavily, his eyes dancing as he panicked, thinking. “The nanites simply can’t be transferred from host to host by mere proximity alone. There would have to be some form of viral transfer. So it’s rather unlikely that those people retrieved the nanites just by sitting next to someone.” He eyed Clay, waiting for answers.
Clay leaned back heavily in his chair, remembering two days ago, when Alayna had been nothing but his deputy, when his daughter had complained about high school problems and the flu, when the world had carried along without a care.
“The first person I saw with symptoms like this was . . . Cliff. Cliff Henderson,” Clay said. “And he was in the cell with Trudy.” The realization struck him all at once. He felt he’d been punched in the gut.
“Henderson. Right,” Jacobs repeated, his eyes assured. “He worked at the lab. He was part of the team.”
Clay looked aghast. “He had kissed Trudy. They were both brought in couple nights ago.”
Everyone at the table sighed heavily with the all-knowing, collective consciousness of a small town. “Shit. I can’t believe Trudy was our downfall,” Ralph said, his voice sarcastic.
“What is it about this Trudy woman?” Jacobs asked, incredulous. “So she kissed Cliff. You said she was in jail?”
“You don’t understand,” Norah said. “Trudy. She was a rather loose woman. The town floozy, if you will. Every town has one. And she was ours. I appreciated her for it. She always had a great story.”
“And she was almost always in our jail for being drunk and disorderly,” Alayna chimed in. “Just the way she reached toward people with those big, beautiful lips. She kissed me once, years ago. Threw me off for days.” Alayna paused. “And she was released the morning Cliff went berserk.”
No one spoke. Clay’s stomach twisted, imagining a crazed, lunatic Trudy rambling through the world with purple and red pus pulsing from lesions on her arms and legs. He shivered, wishing he could remember her as the pretty, if messy and wild, girl he’d known so well. “Shit. She must have been the way it got outside. She is, or was, the source—beyond Cliff, that is.”
“What about the farmer and his daughter?” Alayna asked. “After the meteorite. I noticed that they both had the sweats. They were out of it, clearly messed up. Weren’t they infected?” She blinked wildly.
Jacobs shrugged. “It could be a number of things, really. Anything from the flu that’s been running rampant to the effects of radiation exposure,” he said, glancing at Clay. “If they were family, it’s more likely that they have both had the same cold. It’s rather unlikely that they were demonstrating nanite symptoms.”
“So it was just a coincidence?” Alayna whispered.
“Stranger things have certainly happened,” Clay said, tilting his head.
“Sounds messed up,” Ralph cried from the corner. “So the town slut is going to destroy the world? Ha. Connie always said to stay away from her. I did. Kept my affairs elsewhere.”
“Well, you owe your life to her, then,” Brandon said, laughing humorlessly. “I mean, you owe her your life for the next few hours. Until we’re nothing but dust.”
Jacobs spoke over them, becoming the voice of reason—the only one with actual, scientific knowledge. “It’s probably a coincidence, yes. Unless they interacted with someone who was infected, with their blood or saliva.” He shrugged again. “There’s really no way to know without interviewing them.”
“So after you’re infected, what is the incubation period?” Clay asked, his eyebrows furrowed, thinking of his own symptoms. It seemed rather unlikely, at this point, that he was infected himself. But his hair still fluttered to the ground as he walked, and his joints ached. Perhaps Jacobs had answers.
“Anywhere from sixty minutes up to eighteen hours,” Jacobs answered. “There’s really nothing specific about the timing. It’s how the nanites react to the individual host that’s different. As I’ve heard, your Dr. Miller didn’t show the psychotic signs until much, much after he was attacked. Meaning we don’t have many answers. We only know . . . well,” he paused, turning back to Clay, “if what you’re saying is true, and the nanites have escaped the perimeter, we can assume that the contamination is spreading . . . worldwide at this point. We can assume that the human race won’t last in these conditions.”
“Jesus!” Ralph exclaimed. “Around the globe already?”
Jacobs nodded. “There have been multiple researches on how viruses can spread. Within a little more than three months, complete saturation will be achieved. And with the added features that we’ve programmed into the nanites, it’s much more severe. The nanites are simply too powerful.”
Clay sat with these words. He realized in that moment that he’d been perfectly fine with dying, as long as the rest of the world was allowed to live. He wanted his daughter to grow older. He yearned for his wife to smile, every single day of her life, into old age.
But the world was grim and dark, teeming with sickness. And even Alayna, sitting before him, with her dark eyes upon him, couldn’t bring any level of happiness. Humanity was doomed.
Chapter 61
Clay stood and began to pace, his arms behind his back. He hated the feeling of being
trapped. He searched his mind, hoping for a flicker of resolve.
“So, we’re fucked,” Brandon said, scooting his chair back and looking at them blankly. “The entire planet. It’s over, friends. We did the best we could.”
Alayna peered at Clay, knowing him well enough to sense when something was brewing. “Clay. What are you thinking?” she asked.
Clay turned toward her, his feet spread wide apart, his stance dominant. Even Daniels seemed in awe of him. “I say we deactivate the device,” he said sternly.
“What? Impossible,” Jacobs said, shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”
“Why? The contamination is everywhere, both inside and outside the energy field, meaning there’s nothing to be solved by allowing the device to destroy us.” His mind revved, realizing that he had a few more hours or days or even months to live, if Jacobs would allow it. “It would give us the time we need to figure this out. To find our families and protect them.”
Across the table, Alayna shifted in her chair, suddenly restless. But Clay ignored her, staring intently at Jacobs. “It’s no use for us all to die. Don’t you understand?”
Clay searched the faces of his other survivors. Ralph began to mutter to himself, confusion filling him. “Well, if we don’t have to die today—” he began.
Norah sighed. “I think what Clay is saying makes sense,” she said. “We’ve come too far to give up. We’ve fought through these last few days. There’s nothing that says we can’t continue to fight.”
Brandon smacked his palm against the table, shaking it. “Whatever. I’m in if you guys are. Come on, Leland. Even you don’t want to die today. I can see it in you.”
Daniels erupted from his chair, popping his hands upon Jacobs’s chair and jiggling it. “You hear that, buddy? We have the beginning of a plan. Come on, now! Do the right thing. Not like last time, when you decided to destroy all of humanity.”
Humanity's Edge Trilogy (Book 1): Turn Page 16
