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

by John W. Vance

  He looked down at the white gauze bandage tightly wrapped around his lower arm and stub. He couldn’t lie to himself, he missed his hand, but it was gone and not coming back. Deep down he fought the depression that was ravaging his mind, but he found it very hard. It wasn’t just the loss of his hand but the fact that he believed he had failed. He had failed Lori, her unborn baby, and the deepest pain he felt was that he felt he had failed Tess. Never before had he ever believed that he’d never see her again till now. Even when things had gotten tough, he’d still held out hope that they’d see each other again. But now he was trapped in a sick and twisted world that had cost him his hand and could cost his life or the lives of others if he didn’t obey the rules or what the people of Hope called the covenant.

  “Hey, you hungry?” Janine asked from behind the large screen door, a large tray in her hands.

  “I’m fine.”

  She nudged the door open and stepped outside. “Listen, grumpy pants, you need to eat.”

  “Please don’t patronize me. I’m not grumpy, I lost my fucking arm,” he barked, holding up his bandaged stump.

  She walked around him and forcefully placed the tray down on a small side table. She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him.

  He looked down at the tray. On it sat a plate of scrambled eggs, sausage and a glass of milk, all fresh. He glanced up at her and said, “I’m not hungry.”

  “I put my life on the line for you, not to mention I saved your life. I could have let them hang you. Is that what you wanted? Let me tell you I saw a glimmer of something decent in you, and when you looked at me, your eyes told me that you were sorry. Now get over it, suck it up and deal,” she barked and stormed off.

  He watched her and at that moment was tempted to respond, but his injured ego wouldn’t allow it.

  She stopped at the door and turned towards him again. “And take a damn bath, would you?”

  He held up his stump again.

  “I know, you lost your hand.”

  “No, I’m giving you the middle finger.”

  “What a child. I obviously made a huge mistake,” she snapped and stormed inside.

  He laughed to himself and looked down at the plate of food. He had lied about not being hungry, he was, and the aroma from the food was only increasing his appetite. However, not eating became one thing he could control, a rebellion of sorts.

  “There’s a set of clean clothes on your bed. I suggest you put them on after you bathe.”

  “Just please leave me alone!” he hollered back.

  She stormed back outside and said, “Unfortunately for me, my fate is connected to yours. Unless you want to go out smelling like a dirty rag, I suggest you eat, bathe and get dressed.” She looked at her watch and said, “And do all of that in forty-five minutes.”

  “What’s happening in forty-five minutes?”

  “The magistrate is having you picked up; he’s putting you to work. Finally time to start paying back the debt you owe for your miserable life.”

  Travis wanted nothing more but to resist and not go, but he couldn’t. Janine was right; her fate was tied to his. Like Lori before, he had another person attached to him. He didn’t ask for it; it was just his life. He laughed at how never before had he had such occurrences happen, but for whatever reason, God had chosen him and given him the burden.

  Begrudgingly he put on the clothes and admired himself in the mirror. Apparently, Janine’s husband, Carl, and he were the same size. What were the odds of that? he thought. But that was where their similarities ended. For Travis, Carl had zero taste or style, but he imagined a man who would live in the middle of nowhere didn’t care for such a thing. It had been years since he had worn Levi’s 501 jeans, and the red flannel shirt was nice but reminded him more of something he’d have worn if he had been living in Seattle during the heyday for grunge rock.

  He stepped out of his room to find Janine waiting. “They fit nicely. Glad to see you in something besides pajamas and a robe.”

  He couldn’t stop himself and smiled slightly. “Yeah, they fit perfectly.”

  “I know it. Carl was lean and broad up there,” she said, pointing to his shoulders.

  “I see you ate too,” she commented.

  “Yeah, the eggs were good.”

  She took a step towards him and said, “I know you didn’t ask for this, but I didn’t ask for it either. For whatever reason, we were meant to meet.”

  “I know.”

  “How’s the arm? Need a fresh bandage?” she asked, looking at his arm.

  “I’m good. It’s healing nicely. You did a good job with cauterizing it.”

  “Saw that in movies. I know I shouldn’t admit that, but it seemed like the best way to ensure it didn’t get infected.”

  “Well, if an infection was coming, I’d have one by now.”

  Janine pushed loose strands of her long brown hair behind her ears. If she could describe herself, Janine would say she was tiny with a big personality. She was five foot two inches tall, curvy and ‘top heavy’ is how she’d put it. She was not a native of Pine Bluffs but had moved there after meeting Carl. She was born and raised in Oklahoma City and had met Carl one night. He had been stationed at Tinker Air Force Base. They fell in love and moved back to Pine Bluffs, his hometown. After the outbreak, they felt blessed, as none of them had died. But the blessings they had counted came to an abrupt end a month after in a scene that was so horrific it had prompted her to step forward to save Travis’s life.

  Travis’s almost brutish stubborn and selfish behavior since his hand had been cut off had prevented them from talking. He had wondered what her story was, but he’d vanquished the thought when he looked at his stub, but her persistence was beginning to wear him down.

  “I’ve been wanting to tell you—” he said but was interrupted when a loud bang on the front door echoed down the wood-floored hallway.

  “Tell me later. Don’t keep the magistrate waiting,” she said and ushered him out.

  Outside, he met one of the guards who had been with him the day he had lost his hand. “This way.”

  Travis followed him to a black Ford Expedition.

  The guard opened the rear door for him and said, “Get in.”

  Travis did and found he wasn’t alone. Sitting across from him was the magistrate.

  “Captain Priddy, how’s the arm?” he asked smugly.

  The arrogance behind the question made Travis want to punch him in the face with his bandaged stub, but he let it go. “Much better, I’d thank you for asking, but, oh yeah, you were the one who had my hand cut off,” Travis sarcastically responded.

  “I didn’t cut off your hand, you did. Your actions caused your punishment, and until you come to grips with that and hold yourself responsible, you’ll never be able to grow as a person.”

  “Enough of the self-improvement lesson. Where are we going?”

  “To my office, we have much to discuss.”

  North Topsail Beach, North Carolina

  Devin pulled the Humvee over a few blocks away from their house. He exhaled heavily and rested his head against the steering wheel. He gazed out the windshield towards the ocean and watched the waves move towards the shore. So often he was amazed at how the world around him, the wind, the seas, the trees, weeds and grasses kept on living, even thriving after the decimation of the human species. Each wave that came in took no notice that mankind was gone for the most part and would continue to go on lapping the beach for many eons.

  “What are we stopping for?” Tess asked from the hatch. She bent down and asked again, “What’s up? Why did we stop?”

  “I’m frustrated. It’s been two weeks now, and we’re no closer than we were when we started.”

  “We can’t quit.”

  “I’m not quitting, I’m just venting. We’ve checked every single site, all abandoned, nothing, no one. Not even any encounters with Renfield’s people. Where did they go? It’s like they vanished.”

 
; “Do you suppose these guys were just full of shit?”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Alex knew the one man. He said there were more.”

  “Maybe there was then.”

  “I just don’t know what we’re going to tell him and the others. They’re counting on us.”

  “Maybe their territory is vast. Maybe they’re headquartered somewhere far away.”

  “Could be.”

  “Maybe the map is nothing more than locations they were ransacking or held some importance.”

  “Like what? They were all random. There was nothing there that told me anything or gave us clues. This entire thing is so frustrating,” Devin bellowed and gripped the steering wheel tightly in anger.

  Tess reached out and patted his shoulder. “Settle down. I need you thinking clearly, not in full rage mode.”

  “Where is everyone, though?” he exclaimed.

  “Good question, makes no sense at all.”

  “Everywhere else we went we found some survivors, but none here, unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  “Maybe the government had mandatory evacuations and took everyone away, literally everyone.”

  “Those marks on all the doors, I know where I’ve seen them before. I’ve seen them in footage from hurricane disasters. EMS or police will mark doors, letting whoever comes behind them know the house had been checked and what was inside.”

  “You’re just now figuring this out?” Tess joked.

  “I didn’t hear you chiming in, oh, brilliant one.”

  “If they were evacuated, where were they taken?”

  “The base.”

  “Well, that partially answers some questions but not all. One is why weren’t the kids taken away, and where are these Renfield people?”

  “The keys, it has something to do with the keys,” Devin stated.

  “They look like lawnmower keys or something, or a golf cart.”

  “We’re spinning our wheels here. Let’s go back, get some food and keep talking,” Devin suggested.

  “Poor Alex is going to be heartbroken.”

  “I’m heartbroken too,” Devin said. His mind raced to find an answer, but he was starting to believe that the teens were gone and would never be found. While he didn’t want the children to suffer more than they had, he began to start planning what their next step would be once they gave up the search.

  When Brianna saw the Humvee pull into the driveway, she raced down the stairs barking unintelligibly.

  “Why are you yelling?” Tess asked from her position in the hatch.

  Brianna held up the radio and said, “I’ve been trying you guys all day!”

  Devin looked at the radio and pressed the transmit button and spoke in the receiver. “Test, test.” He heard his voice come from her radio and finished by saying, “You know these things have a limited range.”

  “It is what it is. You guys need to come with me!” Brianna exclaimed.

  Seeing the stress on her face and her urgent plea, Devin and Tess didn’t hesitate. They jumped out of the Humvee and followed Brianna.

  “Alex, Alex!” Brianna yelled.

  Alex popped his head out of the house.

  “Take watch. I’m taking them to the beach.”

  Alex signaled with a thumb up that he had the watch.

  “Bri, what’s going on?” Devin asked, finally jogging up next to her.

  “We had a little surprise wash up on shore,” she answered.

  When they crested the small dunes before the beach, Tess could see a body sprawled out, the waves lapping up against it, slowly nudging it.

  “Is it one of the kids?” Tess asked.

  “Yes, I mean, not one of ours, it’s Brady’s sister,” Brianna replied.

  They walked up to the bloated corpse and stood above it looking down.

  Devin was instantly repulsed. He had the weakest stomach of all of them. He pulled up his shirt to cover his nose.

  Tess knelt down and turned the body on its back.

  The naked body was swollen. Chunks of her face had been fed upon by fish. Her eyes were bulging out of the sockets, and the cause of death looked apparent as a horizontal gash across her throat gaped open.

  “Has Brady seen this?” Tess asked.

  “Yes, he found her.”

  “Oh my God,” Devin blurted out.

  “Why were the kids down here playing by themselves?” Tess chastised Brianna.

  “Alex was watching over them. He took a few of the boys down here to go swimming.”

  “That’s so irresponsible,” Tess continued with her reprimand.

  “Ladies, enough, we need to deal with this. How is Brady?” Devin asked.

  “He’s clearly upset, hasn’t come out of the back bedroom since he came back.”

  “Bri, we need to bury her and have a ceremony. We have an hour or more of light left, so let’s get on this right away. Run up to the house and get that large blue tarp in the garage and two shovels,” Devin said.

  “Okay,” Brianna said.

  Brianna marched off towards the house.

  Tess stood up and looked out to sea. She tore open the pouch on her hip and pulled out a set of binoculars. Putting them to her eyes, she scanned the horizon. “There’s two scenarios here. She was either dumped in the river or dumped far out at sea.”

  “She was dumped out at sea, no doubt about it.”

  “Why so certain?” Tess asked, lowering the binoculars and looking at Devin.

  He dug into his pocket, pulled out the key, and said with confidence, “Now I know what this key fits, a boat.”

  Denver International Airport

  Horton was usually not the person waiting, but when Dr. Mueller asked for more time, it meant you had to wait, regardless of your status or position. As he waited, he looked around the sterile stainless steel walls of the underground secret facility he had built for the doctor. Everything that was happening there had to be kept quiet so much that Dr. Mueller and his staff never left the facility. While Horton was building the facility, he also constructed living quarters and all the comforts and amenities anyone could ever desire.

  Dr. Mueller had been the man heading up synthesizing a new strain of the Death using Cassidy Lange’s blood. What set Cassidy apart from others who had been immune was that she had contracted the Death, but her body had created antibodies and fought it. From all of their tests during the preoperational stage, they hadn’t found anyone who had lived after showing symptoms. Once symptoms appeared, you were dead within days. Cassidy Lange was a unique case. She was not only the first person to spread the virus but also the only one they had discovered that should have died but didn’t. She wasn’t immune in the traditional sense. Her body had reacted the same way as someone not immune, but instead of killing her, her body fought back and killed the virus. It was from her that they had created R-59, a permanent vaccine unlike the other one they used for support personnel. He had kept R-59 quiet from the Order but planned on unveiling it, and in this unveiling he’d unleash something else that would ravage the remaining population of the world.

  “Chancellor Horton, sorry to keep you waiting. Please come in,” Dr. Mueller said, waving him into his office.

  “It’s not a problem, Doctor; I know how busy you are. If you weren’t, I’d be asking you why.”

  “I won’t even wait for you to sit down. We have it; we have created it,” he blurted out with childlike excitement.

  “The other virus?”

  “Yes, and its antidote. I call it Lazarus,” Mueller said, holding up a vial.

  “Lazarus is the antidote?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not liking the sound of that.”

  “Yes, well. Let’s say you practically die, then come back. You essentially experience what patient zero did, but this second virus is worse. You see, I took the Ebola virus, and I—”

  “Stop. Don’t bore me with the details. I’d rather not know, except how quickly does it kill o
nce it’s released?”

  “Come see!” Mueller said, rushing out of the office and into his lab.

  Horton followed him in the large space. Mueller’s team was so busy they didn’t take notice of Horton entering the space.

  Mueller walked him through the lab to a hallway lined with large windows on both sides. He flipped on the lights and pointed to the first window on the right.

  Horton cautiously walked up and looked through the thick protective glass. There he saw a woman in a white gown crawling on the floor, a trail of blood behind her. She was moaning and crying for help, but those pleas were heard but not heeded.

  “There’s so much blood,” Horton gasped.

  “Like I said, I took the Ebola virus and combined it—”

  “Don’t bother, please. So when did you give this woman the new virus?”

  “Yesterday,” he said, looking at his watch, then finished, “About twenty-two hours ago.”

  “So it’s just as quick as the Death but clearly more gruesome,” Horton said. He was repulsed by what he saw.

  “It’s a beautiful killer. So far not one person, not one, has survived it except those we also gave Lazarus to. When we administer Lazarus to a sick patient they have a ninety-five percent chance of survival. Fifty percent have shown minor symptoms of the Bloody Death, even if we give that to them first. Good news is, all survive, and not a person has died. It’s more of an inconvenience.”

  “Did you just call it the bloody death? No names, okay, this isn’t a product we’re peddling, and by the time it does its job, there won’t be that many people left,” Horton said, his full attention on Mueller.

  A bloody hand slapped the glass, startling Horton. He stepped back and swallowed hard. “If you give me this now, the Lazarus, I have a fifty percent chance of showing symptoms like that but won’t die?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Dr. Mueller, I thought you were ready, but having a fifty percent chance of bleeding out my ass doesn’t sound pleasant. I need you to perfect it. Get working on it immediately, and don’t call me down here till it’s a much higher rate.”

  The sick woman again slapped the window, her groans and pleas muffled by the thick glass and walls.