The Death Trilogy (Book 2): The Death: Eradicate

by John W. Vance

  She felt happy and had purpose beyond finding Travis. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be with him, it’s just that in this hostile world now full of barbarians and savagery, they had decided to set a new tone. They were going to be those people who helped others; in a world full of bad people, they were going to be the good ones.

  Pine Bluffs, Wyoming

  From house to house he went; the cars he did find that were suitable for hotwiring were parked in driveways. He kept on going without trying because of the promise he made to Lori, but when he came upon an old Chevy S-10, he stopped and decided enough was enough. He ran up to the driver’s door and closed his eyes to say a quick prayer, “Please be unlocked.” As if God answered him, he lifted and it clicked, the door was unlocked. “Yes, thank you.” He opened the door fully and sat behind the wheel. Not hesitating, he looked quickly just in case there was a set of keys. Nothing. “Sorry, Lori, but time to get to work,” he said, turning on his headlamp, and with a short screwdriver he pried off the steering wheel column case. He ducked under the dash and began to look for the ignition wiring when he heard the crunch of soles on pavement. He jerked from underneath the dash, looked towards the door, and found himself face to face with the barrel of a shotgun.

  “Stop right there!” the woman shouted.

  “Don’t shoot, please.”

  “Get out of my truck now!” she ordered.

  “Please don’t shoot,” he pleaded, his arms raised.

  “Easy and slow, don’t make any moves or I will shoot you,” she said.

  He did as she said. He slid out from the truck and stood, his back against the open cab. His headlamp shined down on her.

  She backed away from the light and hollered, “Help, I need help!”

  Different scenarios ran through his mind. Should he run, or should he stay? He thought of Lori, who was counting on him returning. If he ran and got shot, well, that would guarantee he wouldn’t return, but if he escaped? So many what ifs but not enough time to run them all through. His instincts told him to run; by staying their presumptive captive, he may never return. With his decision made, he lifted his head slightly; the beam from his headlamp hit her in the eyes.

  She flinched angrily and stepped to the side, just to the side of the not fully open truck door.

  Travis saw this as his moment and aggressively pushed the door fully open, hitting the shotgun. The force of the impact caused her to fire. Fortunately for Travis the barrel was no longer pointed at him.

  His actions and the accidental discharge made her drop the shotgun.

  Travis took off towards the street away from her. He glanced behind him but didn’t see her. When he turned back around, he ran directly into another person.

  Both of them fell down.

  Travis went to jump up, but the woman was on him, barrel of the shotgun again positioned at his head.

  “Just stay down!” she yelled.

  He moved, but she jammed it behind his head and racked the slide. “I said stay down!”

  Travis obliged.

  The man he had run into got up and walked over.

  Travis could barely make him out. He was tall and muscular and was also armed, but with a pistol.

  The man leaned over and looked into Travis’s eyes. “Just who do we have here?”

  “I need a vehicle, that’s all, nothing else,” Travis responded.

  “Where are your manners, son? We ask for things in this town, we don’t take them,” the man said.

  Travis recoiled from the man’s harsh bad breath.

  “Janine, your choice what we do with him,” the man said.

  “Take him to see the magistrate,” she replied.

  “Very well,” the man said.

  The blow to the head happened so quickly that Travis didn’t see it coming. All he felt was the blunt force; then everything went black.

  Lori lay trembling, her eyes useless against the dark, so she let her ears communicate the situation as best they could. It first started with the woman’s cries for help; then came the shotgun blast and more yelling. Following that came what sounded like a herd as townspeople rushed to the scene. Images of Travis dead and dying flashed before her eyes. She wanted to go to him, but she could be walking into a situation that was untenable.

  Soon the sun would be up and she’d be a sitting duck out in the open. She needed a place to hide, a place where she could plot how to help or save Travis. The metal buildings came to mind, and without further delay, she rose and ran for what she hoped was safety.

  Denver International Airport

  Horton loved to get his day started early; he received an incredible feeling of accomplishment if by mid-morning he had completed what most people would have in a full day. Today would be another one of those days where he’d not only accomplish much, but today would signify a turning point for him.

  He looked at a map of North America and marveled. So much had been achieved in such a small amount of time. He just wish he could get past the phase he was in and back on track to building his new capital Arcadia.

  A tap at the door signaled that his next meeting was about to begin. He strode back to his desk and sat down, but not before he called out, “Come in.”

  The door opened and in came a man he had only heard about. Thomas Wendell briskly walked in and stood at attention in front of his desk. “Assistant Director Wendell at your service, sir.”

  “Director Wendell, please, no formalities needed, especially from someone as notable as you,” Horton said.

  Wendell was a tall man, almost six foot four inches, and his broad shoulders made him look formidable. His clean-shaven square-jawed face showed the physical scars of a lifetime of law enforcement work. With more than thirty years as a law enforcement officer, Wendell was finishing his career as a mid-level administrator for FEMA when the Death struck.

  Wendell took a seat and asked, “How can I help?”

  “First, how can I help you?” Horton asked. He leaned and put his elbows on the desk.

  “I don’t follow?”

  “Director Wendell, you’ve surprised us with your abilities. When we gave the orders to begin the cleanse, you outperformed everyone. In fact, you’ve already achieved your goals,” Horton said as he looked at a piece of paper on his desk.

  “Just doing what was ordered.”

  “I believe in rewarding people for doing a job above and beyond. You see, I brought you here to ask what we can do for you, you know, a way to say thank you.”

  Wendell looked surprised. He wasn’t expecting to hear this.

  “You look a bit shocked, but I can tell you that you’ll see that’s how we do things here. Let me first ask you something personal; can I do that?”

  “Yes, sir,” Wendell replied, a look of uneasiness on his face.

  “When the order came down to begin cleansing the undesirables, why did you comply?”

  “Because it was an order.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Wendell looked down, briefly searching for the right thing to say.

  “Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear; tell me why you did it. You didn’t have to, hell, we had others in your position who said no, and we removed them till we found the one person who would. So tell me again why you chose to fulfill our order and do it so efficiently?”

  He looked up and assumed since he was there he might as well be honest. He knew the power they had, and if they had wanted him dead, he would be, so why not just open up. “Because when I saw exactly what you were doing, I agreed with it. It made…well, it made sense. The people you had us cleansing were of no use to the system. In fact, they would only stress what vital resources we have. They were those with no skills or those that needed others to in order to live. You were ridding the world of the undesirables.”

  “Bingo, give this man a prize. That has been our mission the entire time. Of course, some good people, not many, died along the way, collateral damage, but you see what we’re doing is sav
ing the planet. We are restoring order to a broken ecosystem. The people we have removed will now allow us to focus our collective efforts to restore the planet to its natural state and create equilibrium. Before we focused our system on helping them, we didn’t want to unleash the Death, but…”

  “I’m sorry, what did you just say? You released the Death?” Wendell asked, stunned by Horton’s smug confession.

  “Yes, there was no pathogen from that asteroid. That was just a helpful ruse to unleash it.”

  Wendell shifted in his chair, a bit more uneasy than before.

  “Thomas, can I call you that?” Horton asked.

  Wendell nodded, then said, “Actually, Tom is good.”

  “Tom, follow me,” Horton said, motioning for Wendell to rise.

  Wendell did as he asked.

  Horton walked him over to a side conference room of his office. The walls were adorned with large three-by-five-foot high-definition images of nature. The first image he stopped at was a large waterfall; the colors of blue, white and foam green were intense. He looked at Wendell and asked, “Beautiful, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about that one?” Horton asked, pointing to a scene of a savannah in Africa.

  “Yes.”

  “Look at all of them. What do you see?”

  “I see pictures of nature.”

  “You do, but you see something more. You see a world as it should be, not destroyed for greed or progress. Imagine this, an unspoiled world where the parasite that is mankind isn’t present in vast numbers, where we manage the herd. You see, man has destroyed this world; we will restore the world. We will restore the balance. You have been a big part of this, but your part is only just begun.”

  Wendell faced Horton and asked, “What is it I can do?”

  Horton grinned and said, “A lot, but we will discuss this over dinner, you and your family.”

  “My family? They’re back…”

  “Mr. Wendell, your job will require you to be here, so I took the liberty of bringing them here. I hope you don’t mind. They are being settled in right now. I picked a nice residence for them. Your daughter will be able to complete her high school here as well.”

  Wendell’s face turned ashen. He gulped and said, “You honor me, Chancellor.”

  Gripping his shoulder more firmly, Horton replied, “Remember, this isn’t about the one, this is about the many. What we do will save this planet, just know that. I have big plans for you. Welcome to the core.”

  “Thank you, sir, I will do my best.”

  “I know you will. So I’ll see you later.”

  “Yes, sir,” Wendell said and began to walk away.

  Horton called out, “Oh, and tell your family welcome from me.”

  Wendell stopped, turned and responded, “I will.” He headed for the door with a look of fear on his face.

  Horton walked back to his desk and picked up the phone. “Please have Dr. Mueller contact me immediately. Tell him I need an update on the new serum from patient zero.” He hung up the phone and rocked back and forth in his chair, pleased that each small piece of his puzzle was coming together.

  Pine Bluffs, Wyoming

  When Travis came to, he had a throbbing headache and found his accommodations were exactly as he imagined they’d be: a small cell in the local jail. He rolled off the bed and rubbed the lump on the back of his head. In his life he’d only been knocked out a few times; this time was the worst. The light shining in from a small window at the end of the narrow hallway outside his cell told him he’d been out for a few hours at least. His mind raced to Lori. He wondered where she was and if she was okay. He then shifted his thinking to what might happen to him. He stood up to walk but felt a bit of vertigo and promptly sat back down.

  He looked around his new home and knew that his fate might be sealed. Having no expertise in jail breaks, he’d have to use the only thing he had left, his silver tongue.

  Staring at the plaster ceiling, he mumbled, “Trav, what the hell ya going to do?”

  A loud clang echoed down the hall.

  He sat up, anticipating who was coming.

  A man appeared at the door to his cell and said, “Good, you’re awake.” He took out a set of keys and unlocked the door. “Don’t think about trying anything. You can’t escape from here.”

  Travis did have the thought, it was instinctual for him, but he dashed the thought. He imagined the man was correct; there was no escape. Then he thought to himself, ‘Yet.’

  “Down the hall and out the large metal door,” the man instructed. He was short and chubby, something not seen often seven months after the outbreak. With the scarcity of food many people lost the excess body fat created from living the American lifestyle. His face was adorned with a thick white beard, almost Santa Claus-like in appearance. If Travis were to guess, the man looked in his late fifties.

  Travis did exactly as he ordered and made it to the door.

  The man unlocked it and said, “Straight through, second door on the left.”

  The hallway in front of him looked like any other small local governmental office building, tile laminate floors, drop ceilings and plastered walls where framed posters of McGruff the Crime Dog were hung next to pictures of sponsored Little League teams.

  He entered the room and found two people, a man and a woman. Both were middle-aged, but these two people were dressed in semi-professional attire. The man, in his forties, wore a clean pair of khakis, brown boots, and his green polo shirt was tucked in. The woman was wearing an almost similar outfit, khakis, light brown hiking boots, but a thin sweater replaced the polo shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a long ponytail while his hair was cut short and combed to the side.

  Travis took a seat in a metal chair opposite them at the small table in what looked like a briefing or interrogation room.

  “Thank you, Sam,” the woman said to the old man.

  “I’ll be right outside,” the old man responded and closed the door.

  Travis’s mind raced with different stories to tell. He thought about giving a sob story about traveling with a pregnant woman, but that would tell them about Lori and possibly put her in jeopardy, so he quickly dismissed it. Telling them he was a lone wanderer wouldn’t win him any points either. Stealing a car from someone was akin to stealing a horse in the Wild West; he just hoped the consequences weren’t alike too.

  The woman leaned on the table and said, “My name is Carolyn, and this is Franklin. We’re town leaders.”

  “Hello.”

  “We normally would say welcome to our town, but that’s not the case here,” she said.

  “Can I have a start over?” Travis asked.

  “Unfortunately that’s not going to happen, and that saddens us,” she responded.

  Travis didn’t like what she just said. He asked, “What’s going to happen to me?”

  Carolyn looked at Franklin, who took the lead. “What is your name?”

  “Travis.”

  “Travis, our little town has survived because we have rules and laws that we all live by. We run a tight ship here and have zero tolerance for crime, such as theft.”

  Now Travis’s mind was going a hundred miles an hour. The thought of just fighting his way out started to sound appealing. If he was going to die, why not die fighting?

  “However, we are also a practical people and believe that the punishment should fit the crime,” Carolyn added.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but can I explain myself?”

  “Of course you can, but we don’t know what explanation you can give that warrants attempting to steal a car,” Franklin said.

  “What was I supposed to do, ask?” Travis said mockingly.

  Carolyn and Franklin looked at each other, and Franklin continued, “We’re a fair people, so we’ll give you time to offer your side of the story and to ask for forgiveness from the woman you attempted to steal from.”

  Travis felt his fate was sealed, so he just wanted
to get it over with. He didn’t want to agonize over it too much, so he said, “Let’s get this show going, then.”

  “If you were in need of a vehicle, why didn’t you just come into town and ask for help?” Carolyn asked.

  “Serious? Ask for one?”

  “Yes, ask. We would have helped you out,” Carolyn answered.

  “I don’t believe it,” Travis blurted out.

  Franklin stood and lifted the metal blinds up. The bright light of day splashed across the room. “Travis, please come and look.”

  Travis stood and walked to the window. He gave Franklin an odd look before seeing what he was showing him. When he peered through the blinds, he saw the main street of town, people walking, coming and going in relative peace. A few of the shops along the street were open, with customers shopping and browsing, and a couple cars passed with their drivers waving to those walking the sidewalks.

  “What do you see?” Franklin asked.

  Travis replied, “A town.”

  “But not like any town you’ve seen since the outbreak, I’d wager.”

  “How do you keep—how did you?”

  “The covenant.”

  “How did you do it?”

  “Welcome to the town that will be the model for a new America. Welcome to Hope.”

  Lori found sleep was impossible, so she spent the hours awake planning how she could help Travis. However, not knowing what exactly happened to him was an issue. She thought about just leaving, but she vanquished that thought immediately. Travis was like family to her. She cared for him and couldn’t abandon him if he was in need.

  The rumble of a car outside the main building startled her. She peered out the window but saw nothing.

  The front door of the building she was in opened.

  Panic set in, and without thinking she ran out the back door right into a chain-link fence. Looking both ways, she decided going left was best, not because of anything specific; it just seemed like the best way to go. When she reached the end of the alleyway, she remembered that she had left her backpack. Not willing to get caught going for it, she pressed ahead and came to the edge of the far building and large gravel parking lot. She peeked out, and to her left about a hundred feet away saw the car she had heard, a blue sedan, but no one was around. To the front of her was the parking lot and beyond was the road. Her indecision was becoming a liability; unsure of what to do, she remained frozen in place. With her back firmly planted against the cold metal siding, she closed her eyes and prayed for an answer to her dilemma.