The Malefic Nation (Graham's Resolution Book 4)

by A. R. Shaw

  She stood before his desk wiping her eyeglasses when she announced, “It’s all complete. I have four hundred vials, enough to include anyone else who wanders into camp. I advise you to keep those inoculated quarantined for two weeks until the antibodies take hold. I’ll randomly test a group before leaving, but we had no issues with immunity the last time. I don’t anticipate any problems.” She remembered to smile as she put her glasses back on.

  Harding watched her every move with a look of admiration and desire.

  Clarisse cleared her throat. “When might we release the men?”

  He stood up and smiled broadly. “I cannot tell you how thankful I am,” he said, shaking her hand. “I never thought it would be possible to find a cure. We were all so desperate, and then people just started dying off. We escaped and closed down our borders just in time.”

  He hadn’t answered her question. She was beginning to get angry. “The men, Henry. When will they be released?”

  “Oh, I already gave the order for their release this afternoon,” he checked his watch. “They should be back at your quarters by the time you get back.” He smiled, knowing he’d surprised her. “Clarisse, I always keep my promises and I’m sorry we took you prisoner,” he said solemnly as he walked around to sit on the front edge of his desk to be nearer to her.

  Dalton’s home? It was the only thing she could think of.

  Harding clasped her hand and ran his thumb over her soft skin, peering into her eyes.

  “You’ve worked around the clock for them. I know they mean a great deal to you. You can rest now, Clarisse. You can stay here, in Hope. In two weeks, your people can join ours, here, with us. We lost our doctor; you can replace him, you’re far more qualified . . .” His voice trailed off. She wasn’t even looking at him.

  He stopped his caress, turning the gesture into a handshake, and smiled broadly to mask his feelings. Perhaps he could tell she wasn’t interested. “It’s an offer. I hope you’ll consider it even if your people decide to leave. You can always stay here in Hope—with us.”

  Clarisse pulled her hand away and finally looked at him. “That’s very kind of you, Henry. I’ll talk to the others and see what they want to do. We’ll begin inoculating everyone tomorrow. I didn’t sleep much last night. Would you mind?”

  He stood up from the desk and opened the door for her. “Of course not, Clarisse. Rest as long as you want. We’ll see each other tomorrow.”

  Once outside Harding’s office, Clarisse realized she’d been holding her breath a good part of the time. Henry was a sweet man, but his charm was misplaced. As she took in a deep breath, her walk turned into a run even though her exhaustion made her unsteady. She slid a few times on the road, now wet from the melted hail. An imaginary cord pulled her to Dalton; she couldn’t close the distance fast enough.

  ~ ~ ~

  Dalton waited, pacing restlessly. “Should I go find her?” he asked Graham.

  “No, that might cause problems. Be patient. She’ll be here soon.”

  Dalton nodded and swung Kade high up into the beautiful spring air and then pulled him in and hugged him tightly. Hunter wasn’t as comfortable as he used to be with his dad loving on him, especially in front of others. Dalton hugged him anyway, but let him loose as soon as he resisted. “You and I need to spend some time together, buddy,” he said. Hunter had his mother’s eyes, and they pierced Dalton as the boy asked, “What did you do to be put in prison, Dad?”

  Dalton held Hunter’s small hand and looked to Tala for answers, but she only smiled sympathetically.

  “Son, I did nothing wrong. These people, they wanted the vaccine Clarisse could make to keep them from getting sick. So they decided the best way to have her do that was to keep me and the other men in holding until she finished making it. I did nothing wrong. I broke no laws.”

  The boy still looked at him as if trying to decide whether or not to believe him. It was unnerving for Dalton to have his six-year-old son question his honor. Though he knew in this life he’d done some bad things, he’d had to, to keep them going. Would his son judge him harshly for those actions of love and survival? Only time would tell.

  As Hunter ran off, Dalton worried that the boy might be fighting internal battles, ones he may have caused. He vowed to spend more time with his son at the first opportunity.

  In the meantime, he took advantage of Kade’s willingness to let him hold him. Kade was four years old and had yet to outgrow affection from his father. He had especially craved it after his mother’s death, and Dalton never denied the boy’s cuddles, knowing full well that they were fleeting and would give way to other things little boys grew into. Soon Kade was limp in his arms, and he held the sleeping boy’s back against him as he stood outside in the sunshine waiting for a glimpse of Clarisse. “What if they took her into custody in exchange?” he whispered to Graham and Tala. Bang held Graham tightly, as if he’d never let him go again.

  Tala smiled at Dalton. “It’s too soon to speculate. Clarisse is usually not back until much later—after dark, even—but I expect that once she hears you guys were released she’ll come running home.”

  “Home?” Dalton said. He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. They weren’t staying here for very long. “Home is back in Cascade, as far as I’m concerned. This is just temporary.”

  “Yes, of course. But we women and children have come to consider Hope to be home lately—at least for the time being. Of course, you who were imprisoned probably feel otherwise.”

  “I know Clarisse has been working on something, but we never got the chance to discuss it. Any idea?” Dalton said.

  Tala looked stunned. “You mean, you don’t know?”

  Both Graham and Dalton looked at her. “Know what? What is she doing? Tell me!” Dalton said.

  “I—I shouldn’t. It’s hers to tell. She’ll be here soon, I’m sure.” Tala began to walk away, but Graham pulled her back. “We can wait,” he said.

  At that moment Bang looked up at Graham and blurted out, “Clarisse is going to kill the terrorists with a shot.”

  “What?” Graham asked.

  Bang’s answer wasn’t too far off, but the guys needed clarification, so Tala filled them in. “She’s developed a virus that will spread to only those that have the markers of the vaccine they received for the China Flu.”

  “Are you serious?” Graham asked.

  Tala nodded.

  Dalton said nothing. A brilliant, deadly idea, he thought, but at what cost to Clarisse?

  “I wonder how we’re going to pull that off,” Graham said. Hail began to fall again, and Graham pulled Tala and Bang inside the house. When he looked back, Dalton stood there, still holding a sleeping Kade against his chest. Graham went back outside and, without a word, took the sleeping child and brought him inside.

  Dalton stood there under the hail, waiting for Clarisse and knowing she had to be tormented by what she planned to do, what they’d all have to do, to save themselves and the other survivors. It meant becoming a ruthless beast, just like the jihadists, and Dalton hated the thought of it. But he hated more the idea that Clarisse would condemn herself for finding their salvation.

  Soon, he saw her, running toward him through the blizzard of hail. He ran to her too, catching in her shivering form in an embrace. So much to say, and yet nothing needed saying right now.

  “God, I’ve missed you,” he finally said into her damp hair. He held her tight to try and give her some of his warmth.

  She squeezed him. “Dalton, I . . .” she faltered, crying into his chest.

  “I know,” he whispered with a wretched pain in his voice.

  She convulsed in his arms as the hail came down harder, the little white balls of ice embedding themselves in the crevasses between their bodies.

  Dalton pushed his fingers into the hair at the back of her neck. “I love you, Clarisse. I’m here now.” He kissed her lips, held her tight and then walked her the rest of the way home.

  Chapter 2
5 A Meeting

  They sat around the kitchen table after Clarisse had left, with Macy and McCann, to begin the inoculation of the people of Hope. “We have to discuss this with Lieutenant Harding. We can’t sneak back across the border and capture a few terrorists, bring them here, and conduct medical experiments on them,” Reuben said, shaking his head at their willingness to deceive the people of Hope.

  “If we do what you’re suggesting and tell them of our plans,” Dalton said. “There’s a good chance they’ll try to stop us.”

  “If they do, we should move on and then conduct our mad plan elsewhere,” Reuben said.

  “That’s just it, Reuben. She needs the lab here, and the facilities to keep them secure. She needs to be able to work on developing the virus, and we need the containment they have here for the test subjects.” Dalton shook his head. “Yes, it’s dirty work, but they’ve left us no choice. This is our only option. It’s the only way we can defeat them without losing any more of our people. It’s the only way, Reuben.” He ended the argument with that statement, letting its intended finality sink in.

  Reuben, who seemed at odds with the proposal from the start, let the words settle around them. He had no other answers, and Dalton knew this because he knew Reuben. The man who was moral to a fault; he never ignored an opportunity to put them in their place, to remind them that they were human and were thus held to a higher standard than were the animals who had landed them in this situation to begin with. Dalton could see that Reuben quarreled within himself. What more could he say to convince him this was their only option? Were they to lie down and die because of the needs of one group’s corrupt religious ideals? That’s what it boiled down to: world domination. No one lives but those with fanatic ideals.

  “How are you going to keep this a secret from them?” Reuben finally asked. Appealing to Graham’s common sense, he added, “Harding’s people are going to find out. Then what?”

  Dalton hung his head in defeat. He had hoped he’d put an end to any comeback but clearly he had not.

  “He’s right,” Ricked piped in.

  Dalton was shocked. He’d never thought he’d hear Rick side with Reuben; that never happened.

  “I say we tell them from the start,” Rick said. “We’re going to need their help.”

  “And how do you figure we go about doing that?”

  “Look around, man. They have equipment, we don’t. They have trucks, planes and all kinds of gear stored here.”

  “They don’t use it,” Reuben said. “They don’t leave this place. I talked to one of the guards. They’ve been holed up here since before there was an official lockdown. These people are probably some of the only survivors left in Canada.”

  “And they won’t even be that for long,” Dalton added. “The terrorists will come here after they’ve finished transforming our homeland into their version of a religious state. They’ll do the same thing here. If we tell the people of Hope what we’re planning, they’ll have to understand that this is in their best interest or they’ll never go for it. They won’t. I know their mentality. They’ll refuse to help, and might even kick us out.”

  “Or arrest us again,” Rick offered.

  Dalton picked up his coffee and saluted Rick’s last-minute suggestion. It was strange, staying in someone else’s home. The three houses they occupied were fully furnished and well taken care of. They were offered several more, but the women wanted to keep everyone close together. They’d become dependent on one another for safety and were used to living side by side now. When separated, they felt anxious and vulnerable. Dalton suspected this was true of ancient people too; where there was danger they needed to cling to one another in greater numbers to survive. It meant that, if attacked, chances were that someone would survive.

  The other guys around the table were quiet, each thinking of the consequences of this decision. “All right,” Dalton said, “It’s agreed that we will talk to the lieutenant about our plans in hopes that he agrees with it.”

  Graham startled Dalton and everyone else when he said, “Wait a second. I used to think the way this man does, I suspect.” His friend looked troubled before he continued. “I don’t think we should tell Harding all of it. You’re right, Dalton, he won’t be complicit with this plan. Let’s leave out the genocide. Let’s only tell him that we need the test subjects for questioning, to find out their motives. Clarisse can do the injections in secret. She’s only going to need a few vials of blood, and then she’ll need to infect them and wait to see what happens. Harding and his people won’t know what’s going on if we can get to the patients. Clarisse could say it’s in our best interest to inoculate them against the China Flu as a disguise for the real purpose of infecting them.”

  “That’s true,” Rick agreed, “but how are we going to get to them? The guards will have control of them.”

  An idea came to Sam and he reached for the map at the center of the table. He unfolded the map and laid it flat, scrutinizing the area. “We’ll leave tomorrow and travel east on the main highway over to the nearest border crossing.” He pointed to a likely spot. “Here. Sumas-Huntingdon Border Crossing. It’s only an hour and a half away, and there’s bound to be some of those jerks hanging around a border crossing; we can grab a few. We’ll say we were out hunting and found them sneaking around. Clarisse is just now vaccinating these folks; they need two weeks before they’re immune to the virus. We’ll say we need to watch over them, so they don’t get infected until they’re immune. Y’know, it’s the least we can do—since they’ve been so hospitable and all . . .” He finished in a slightly sarcastic tone that made them all laugh. Sam’s humor came out at the oddest of times.

  “So, then, we’ll explain it to Harding as an opportunity for intel?” Graham asked.

  “That’s perfect,” Rick said, and the others nodded.

  Chapter 26 A Hunting Trip

  “Where did they head off to?” Lieutenant Harding asked again.

  Clarisse crossed her legs casually, but tried to contain her nervousness. “They’re on a hunting trip for meat to process. You see, we lost much of our emergency reserves when we fled, and we can’t expect you to feed us indefinitely.”

  Harding sat at his side of the desk, contemplating her reasoning. Your commander didn’t mention this to me yesterday,” he said, shuffling papers around.

  “Yes, well . . . you see, he’s not my commander, exactly. We work as a team.”

  “But, he has the final say in any argument, correct?”

  “No, no he doesn’t. Like I said, we’re a team. We usually come to agreement fairly easily. If there’s a difference we weigh the options and go with the best decision.”

  Harding nodded at her with a slightly condescending smile, as if Clarisse were an innocent child. He obviously didn’t agree with her group’s methods, but they had worked well for them thus far.

  She couldn’t help but think that the longtime residents of Hope must feel like prisoners. They couldn’t speak their mind. They might be allowed to leave, but it was the fact that they had to be allowed to in the first place that bothered Clarisse. She had to remember what freedom meant and how fleeting that concept could be from one place to another.

  “I expect them to return by tomorrow night,” she said. “There’s nothing to worry about. We like to maintain our stores, and since you kept safe what we already had—and we really appreciate that, by the way—we won’t have to do much more hunting. We’ll share, if that’s what might be bothering you. Do you want us to share our hunt, lieutenant?”

  “Henry,” he corrected her. “No, not at all. In fact, I had a meeting yesterday with our supply crew and we talked about how to include another thirty people into our calculations. It’s not a problem. We have gardens and farms within our borders. We work together and can maintain our way of life without having to leave here, and you don’t put an extra burden on our supplies. What I’m saying is, it wasn’t necessary to go on a hunt.”

  “Yes, I u
nderstand your point of view, but what you’re not taking into account now is that since we are not vulnerable to the virus we’re not threatened by the possible exposure. Perhaps we can trade some venison for beef or bacon,” she said with a smile. “Soon your people will be able to go out hunting as well.”

  He sat up in his chair. He’d barely thought about it. “It’s a foreign concept for us here. We’re just getting used to the idea. We’ve maintained the borders all this time. I’m not sure how the townspeople will take to this new freedom. It’s probably best to start off on small trips.”

  “Yes, I think Dalton would be happy to take a small group out at a time, show them the ropes. Of course, we all also have the danger of the terrorists out there. Right now that’s the biggest threat. I wish you’d heed our words and prepare better.”

  Harding held up his hand. “Yes, yes, I know what you’re going to say. Dalton and I had an extensive conversation about this too.” He picked up his pencil and began tapping it on the desk. “I concede that they’re a threat—but not an immediate one, as far as I can see. You have time here to regroup, to plan, but there’s no way you’d have had the time to figure out how to exterminate them from your own country.”

  Clarisse squirmed in her seat a little when he used the term exterminate.

  “I encouraged Dalton to consider joining us here. Our borders are secure, as you can see. We have an elaborate setup, and it’s sustainable. Our people are happy for the most part. They’ve recovered from the shock of the pandemic. And now, thanks to you, they’re also immune to the very threat that killed so many.”

  Clarisse thought he was reaching a bit, but she said nothing.

  “Not that I’m trying to argue with you, Henry, but your people are depressed; they’re not thriving. They wake up each day wondering if hiding here was the right thing to do instead of dying with the rest of humanity. They’re not happy, they’re barely surviving. They’re not free to leave these boundaries you’ve kept them in. Don’t get me wrong. It’s all warranted—you’ve saved their lives, after all—but they’re not happy. And honestly, neither are we. We’ve survived, but we’ve lost a lot in the process. Happy is not something any of us will be for a very long time. That’s a luxury for the future—if we survive this. If we make it beyond the terror.”