Day of Darkness (Unclean Evolution Book 3)

by LC Champlin

  “Doorway,” Josephine breathed.

  Shut up, Jo! “Mm.” A sharp look impaled the reporter.

  Folding her arms, Amanda cocked her head. “Does that mean something to you?”

  “We’re about to see.” The less she knew about their involvement with Doorway, the better.

  “It’s a big pharmaceutical company in the South Industrial area, I know. Sometimes our researchers—that is, LOGOS’s researchers—send requests to collaborate with them. They haven’t been receptive, though. I don’t know much else about it, since that’s not my department.”

  LOGOS Biotherapeutics Institute, where Lexa Birk, brother of the terrorist-abetting Victor Birk, worked in upper management. Had the companies collaborated on the cannibal research?

  An orange sticky note hid inside the pamphlet. Neat handwriting read, Call me at 21:00. A number followed, and the initials LB.

  “What does it mean?” Jo wondered, leaning in for a better view. “It must be important if it comes by air mail.”

  “With phone and data services down, it’s either drones or pigeons, unless they can train owls. Did the girls say anything else?”

  Head shake.

  “It appears there’s only one way to find out what this is about.” It grated that the message gave a time. Dictating the hour without offering the other party a chance to haggle indicated this LB thought themselves in charge. They evidently considered their subject more interesting than anything Nathan had to manage. Perhaps they were correct.

  ++++++++++++

  “Thank you for telling—no, for warning us,” Mason began as he and Albin walked up Shorebird Circle toward the building of Mr. Serebus’s desire. It lay across Marine Parkway, two hundred meters from the apartments.

  “I cannot let him continue this way. You are better off on your own if you are capable of scavenging supplies, fabricating desalinization tents, and erecting barricades. I can assist you.” Not only for the sake of aiding those in distress, but also because the neighborhood possessed the manpower to keep Mr. Serebus in check.

  “We could sure use some help. But not from somebody who thinks he’s God’s gift.” Shaking his head, Mason gave a laugh of incredulity. “What a lunatic.”

  “The name Nathan means gift of God.”

  They crossed the parkway, then cut through a park lawn.

  “Now, in exchange for my help,” Albin continued in a measured, emotionless tone, “I require that you allow us an apartment to occupy when we are in this area. Also, you must keep watch on your neighbors to the south. Mr. Serebus will no doubt attempt to reclaim the building. Remember, his goal is to dominate. Only the presence of his followers prevented him from pressing his point today, perhaps fatally. If his people become amenable to his ruthless tactics, you must evacuate.”

  “You really think he’s that unbalanced, huh.” Mason clicked his tongue. “It’s too bad. He’d make a good leader.”

  They entered the car park. Ahead rose the research buildings, each three stories in height and a chalky gray.

  “He is a fine leader, as every tyrant before him has been. It’s not lack of charisma that is his mortal flaw; it is his lack of self-control.”

  “The building’s all yours if you want to take a look around,” Mason related. “I’m not sure how to get in, but if you can break a window or whatever, have at it. You can destroy it for all I care. The only thing we need from there is the generators. We’ll return them to Nathan and his cronies.”

  “Do not turn your back to him. He is a wolf, and he will attack if he deems it profitable. I do not care what is inside this building; I only wish to keep Mr. Serebus from occupying it.”

  Mason laughed, then swallowed the amusement upon seeing Albin’s disapproval. “I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s like you’re playing Monopoly or Risk. This is a game to you two. You just want to block him. Don’t you have any ambition?”

  “A game indeed.” Soon Mr. Serebus would discover he had met his match.

  Chapter 52

  Liars

  Bloodstream - Stateless

  “Thank you all for coming,” Nathan pitched his voice so the back row of Redwooders could hear him. Standing on the bed of the Sierra provided a good view of the group, and vice versa. “As you might have heard, our neighbors across the channel decided they would rather go it alone.”

  The people mumbled and murmured in consternation.

  “I advised them strongly against it. Only by unifying are we going to be able to stand against the looters and affected who want to destroy us. But they decided to believe what they were told.” He sighed and looked down for a moment before meeting their gazes again. “I regret to say that my own friend Albin Conrad was the instigator of this possibly fatal change of heart.”

  “Albin?” exclaimed a voice. Taylor.

  “He’s decided it would be more advantageous for him if he parted ways with us. I have reason to believe he’s also working with local gangs.” Triggering the Redwooders with memories of gang members kidnapping citizens would ratchet up their anger. “I’m also sad to say that Marvin Bridges, who was helpful in that operation as well, has sided with Albin. As you may know, Conrad is an attorney. He’s very good at talking people into things.”

  “But why?” someone asked.

  “Power is tempting.” Grimacing, he shook his head. “I’m left with no choice but to count Albin Conrad and Marvin Bridges as my enemies. If you see them here, do not engage them. They’re dangerous. Instead, keep an eye on them and let me, Amanda, Josephine, or one of the security team know.”

  “Are they that dangerous?” This from Stacy.

  “Unpredictable is dangerous. I didn’t say this earlier because I didn’t want to alarm anyone, but we had a disagreement before he left. It was minor and concerned his role here. I told him he was second-in-command with Amanda, but he didn’t believe that position was sufficient. To express his dissatisfaction, he shot me in the chest.” Bombs away.

  Gasps followed. Direct hit.

  “Fortunately, I was wearing a vest that I’d scavenged from one of the Red Devil Goats’ bodies. If not for it, I wouldn’t be speaking with you right now.” He clenched his fist over his heart.

  Confusion erupted in the ranks. Excellent. Let Albin try to infiltrate the neighborhood again. Now for the piece de resistance: “He was even so bold as to come here at night and lure out one of our own, a young girl.”

  The confusion grew to outrage.

  Nathan raised his hands. “He didn’t hurt her, but he did use her to gain information about us and our neighbors. He’s trying to tear us apart, starting with the other half of Redwood Shores. We will take the high road, though. If they require help, we’ll supply it. We’ll do so in exchange,” he pressed on, holding his right hand high to gain their attention, “for their help.

  “To decrease the chance of Albin and his cohorts coming here unnoticed, we’re going to take our cue from North Redwood Shores and wear ID. They use arm bands. Every day, we’ll change the location where they’re worn. Think of it as changing your password, but with a purpose.” He smirked.

  “Good riddance to the mouths!” Wong’s small, scowling face pushed through the throng. Damn her talent for appearing at inopportune times. “They will not be eating our supplies.”

  “We won’t leave them to starve.” If worse came to awful, of course they would, especially since the North Redwood Shores bastards would do the same to their neighbors in the south. But the people in this community would balk at hearing forceful words against their hostile countrymen. At least, they would until the Redwooders grew hungrier . . .

  ++++++++++++

  Albin gazed from the window of the inventor’s office at the surrounding buildings. Billions of dollars in technology occupied the area, but without electricity, the engines of progress devolved into monuments to a bygone era.

  “Excellent work!” Kenichi-san congratulated over the radio.
r />   “He did not relinquish his position.” Did Kenichi-san not see this as a problem?

  “Ah, that’s a minor issue. You didn’t really think this would work the first time, did you?”

  “No . . .” Hoped would describe his mindset.

  “Then you shouldn’t be surprised. You’re going to have to take all his toys first, down to the very last marble—not that he has very many left.” The voice from the darkness chuckled.

  “Do please try to remember the serious nature of our undertaking, Kenichi-san.”

  “Yes, of course! Very serious indeed. By the way, I . . . neglected to tell you this earlier, but there’s a small drone in the break room. You’ll find lockers there. The combination is taped under one of the monitors in my office. Have fun with it! And let me know when your next grand victory is.”

  “Of course.” Albin replaced the microphone in its holster on the radio. He leaned back in the Kenichi-san’s chair, drumming his nails on the arm. From his place across the desk, Bridges stood and stretched. “Why do I feel like we’ve just had a loot drop, or a reward from a grateful NPC? Well, let’s go see what Dungeon Master Santa left under the tree.”

  “Go on.” Albin waved in dismissal.

  “Have it your way.” Bridges and Kuznetsov departed.

  Mr. Serebus had spoken words that one never hoped to hear. Mad or not, how much could one forgive? “How much should I forgive?”

  But if anyone controls the cannibals and rules the Bay Area, pragmatism argued, should it not be him? Would you rather trust the government, which murders its people? Perhaps you prefer the original creators of the cannibals? Or would you rather they simply ran rampant?

  “No.”

  A moment passed as Albin’s mind sank into the cool sand of apathy. As the inflammation calmed, resolution grew like new tissue over a wound. Void of emotions, he strode to the window, hands behind his back.

  A pack of cannibals ambled along the sidewalk two buildings distant. A force as powerful as the cannibals’ neural nets had seized the dark man’s mind. Trauma had prepared the ground for the seeds of power to take root. They now grew into a choking hedge of thorns.

  Only one fate existed for tyrants who refused to return to the land of human decency: death. “I have to put him down. He is not a wolf; he is a rabid dog.” Albin pressed his fingers into his temples. Eyes closed, he released a hissing sigh. His eyes burned and his throat closed. He exhaled again, long and steady.

  He looked up. Six vultures wheeled in the sky. “There were six, but now we are three.”

  The cold peace of decision settled over him like a sand drift over a corpse. His mind embraced the desiccation, finding rest.

  The vultures still circled.

  A few minutes later, as Albin continued to gaze without sight at the scavenger birds, Kuznetsov and Bridges burst in. “Look!” The economist dropped a black, rubberized container the size of a briefcase onto the desk.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a drone! See?” Bridges opened the case to reveal a streamlined white drone with rotors folded beneath it like the legs of a dead insect.

  “Watch.” Lifting it from the box, Kuznetsov extended the rotors. “It fits in your hand but can go quite far. It has a camera as well. This will come in very useful, don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” Albin murmured, “we shall see the carrion much better.”

  Chapter 53

  Meeting of the Minds

  Lost - Coldplay

  The researchers settled in, their eyes on the wood grain of the Musters’ dining-room table, a sight evidently more interesting than Nathan.

  He paced before them. “You all know what we need regarding the specifications of the building. Now, are there any suggestions for locations near here?”

  Dennis scratched the back of his neck as he hummed. “I think I might know one. It’s not exactly next door, but we can reach it fairly easily by boat. That makes it hard with the generators, I know, but—”

  “Hold on.” Nancy raised her hand as she sat back. “Are you talking about the companies south of Bair Island, by the marina and Redwood City port?”

  “I know a person who works there, and I’ve toured the building. It’ll be passable. I can’t get in, though, so we’ll have to either round up my acquaintance, or break in.”

  “I prefer the latter to save time,” Nathan responded. Albin was a fool if he thought he could stop their progress. “Are there any other options closer to Redwood Shores?”

  Looking around at her cohorts, Stacy ventured, “There are research companies at the southern end of Redwood, by the freeway. But they’re not going to be as helpful, I agree.”

  Nancy looked up from drawing circles with her finger on the table. “What if the government finds out we’re breaking into companies?”

  “They have enough to worry about.” Nathan waved away the concern. “We’ll leave an IOU.”

  “We could find more food and supplies as we go over there.” Dennis adjusted his glasses, looking worried at even the idea of scavenging. He’d heard about the last run.

  “All right.” Hissing a breath, Nathan stood. “I’ll assemble a group.”

  His radio crackled. “Nathan, do you copy? This is one of the guards on the southeast side.”

  “What is it?”

  “I caught several of the teenagers trying to sneak out. They say their families are low on food. I told them I’d talk to you about it.”

  “I’ll be right there. Let Amanda know as well.”

  Seeing the enterprising spirit in the younger generation brought a breeze of encouragement. These teens traded their video games and iPhones for weapons. More and more people stepped up as time dragged and supplies waned.

  Nathan smiled as he exited the house and headed for the Sierra.

  ++++++++++++

  A gang of six teens sat on the curb as if waiting for a squad car to pull up and haul them off to juvy. Their parents paced before then, reading them their rights, which included only the right to offer an explanation that would then be used against them.

  Nathan climbed out of the truck and headed toward the mass of seething teen angst and adult panic—or rather, the relief that came after panic passes, a relief almost as painful as the fear. Uncomprehending of their parents’ emotions, the teens either stared at the ground, pretending not to hear, or snapped back with their own arguments, making all the headway of an ocean liner against an iceberg.

  “May I speak with them for a moment?” Nathan asked, voice loud enough to carry over the parents’ outrage.

  “You!” One of the mothers swung from admonishing her surly son to point at Nathan.

  “Mom—”

  “Quiet, Chas.” She waved him silent before re-targeting Nathan. “We need supplies. We’ll starve if you don’t do something.” Anxiety haunted her gray eyes even as anger spilled into her words. Though she wore the fashionable clothes and the hairstyle of the upwardly mobile socialite, in her awoke the beast that would tear to pieces anyone who threatened food or family. Good—assuming Nathan could direct it.

  “Yeah,” agreed Chas, taking advantage of the opportunity to drop the blame onto someone else. Though still in his mid-teens, he’d almost made Nathan’s height. Judging by the kid’s build, he spent most of his time lifting and on the football field. “You said you’d get us food. We’re down to only a few days left.”

  “The government’s not bringing any,” shot one of the two fathers present.

  Like an avalanche that builds from a pebble, the rest of the group added their demands and desperation.

  Nathan nodded as they voiced their legitimate, if overly vocal, complaints. “I understand. Know that we’re all in your situation. The entire Bay Area is. Your children are not to blame for their actions.” Of course they were, but they could work off their recklessness with community service.

  “What are you going to do about it?” This from Ch
as’s mother. She crossed her arms and glared at him, chin jutting.

  “I’m preparing to take another supply trip.”

  A grey-blue Hyundai Genesis rolled to a halt, parking behind the Sierra. Amanda hopped out, Taylor at her side. An interesting choice of ride-along companion.

  “What are you guys doing?” Taylor blurted before her mother could get a more adult question out. “You don’t know what’s out there. The looters and cannibals will kill you.” She glared at them, hands on her hips like a tweenage drill instructor.

  “Taylor.” Putting a hand on her shoulder, her mother stepped past her. “Guys, I know you’re scared.”

  “I’m not scared,” interrupted a girl who wore a T-shirt with an angry cat on it. “I’m hungry!” She had tied her brown hair back with strips of red and black fabric like those the Redwooders wore for identification.

  “We’re working to solve that.”

  “Hey, a cop!”

  Nathan’s head jerked around, almost spraining his neck. He wrapped his arm around his side as his ribs grated.

  True enough, a police cruiser rolled toward them with lights flashing. It came from the southeast, in the direction of the Bayshore Freeway. The guard at the roadblock hopped into his vehicle and pulled it clear.

  Shit. What did this omen portend? Had they come to forcibly evacuate the residents, or perhaps quarantine them? Which would prove worse? He could flip a coin to decide. Damn, slipping into the concealment from the cops occupied the list of Actions Better Taken Five Minutes Ago. Included on that list was dispersing this group.

  From the cruiser stepped two officers, one of whom wore a glower even darker than her DHS fatigues. Rodriguez. “Serebus. What’s going on? Are you people having a tea party in Hell?”