by Dave Lund
Chivo continued north, and twenty minutes later, the group drove through Marathon, but not after dodging a dozen zombies shambling across the main road in town. Apollo continued to check the man’s vitals, which hadn’t changed, and hoped that he would regain consciousness soon. The Land Rover turned right and pushed north on Highway 67. Apollo, with a lack of anything else to do, began teaching Lindsey what he was doing and why, although he didn’t have a blood pressure cuff. He wished he did, but it didn’t matter since he didn’t have any medications to inject into the man if his blood pressure dropped. No, in this brave new world all Apollo could do was hope for the best.
Apollo reached behind the seat and brought the man’s backpack to his lap, opened it, and began removing the contents. Pmags full of ammo, bottles of water, some snacks, a couple of broken-down MREs, and a good handful of firecrackers. It was like a teenager packed the bag, but it dawned on Apollo that it could be all the man was able to scavenge, and the most important thing to have is just about always ammo. Next, Apollo inspected the man’s rifle and pistol. Both were well worn, but obviously maintained and recently cleaned. The cutoff remains of the man’s clothing were next, and Apollo was surprised at the large heavy knife on the belt. The belt looked high-quality, except that it was forever ruined, cut clean through by Apollo’s EMS sheers. Blood stained the blade of the big knife, and same with the Emerson folder clipped inside one of the pockets.
The sun blazed straight overhead as they approached I-10. Chivo, aware of what they’d encountered just hours before at I-10, stopped the Land Rover well short of the bridge. Apollo, Lindsey, and Chivo climbed out of the still-running SUV and stood on top of the big gear rack on the roof. Chivo held the field glasses to his eyes and scanned ahead of them.
“The bridge is gone.”
“Gone?”
“Yeah, like demoed gone. I can see where it was. I can see where it is missing. It’s fucking gone, mano.”
Chivo handed the field glasses to Apollo, who scanned the bridge as well.
“Damn.”
A dust cloud hung in the air near the Interstate.
“What do you think, Chivo?”
“Recon. Leave your latiga and we can check it out.”
“You know what? Fuck you, man. Let it go.”
Chivo shrugged, climbed off the roof of the Land Rover, and started walking up the roadway towards the Interstate.
“Lindsey, stay on the roof, stay cool, and keep your M4 ready. We’ll be back in a few minutes. We’re going to check this out.”
Lindsey nodded and stood still on the roof of the SUV holding her M4 rifle.
Apollo climbed down and jogged to catch up with Chivo.
“Lay off me and Lindsey, man.”
“Why?”
“You know what? If you haven’t noticed, the world has gone to shit. If we find comfort in each other, then fuck it. It isn’t like we’re going to live very long in our new world. We might as well have a companion for it. It isn’t like we’re on a mission. Now we’re just having to survive. This is worse than Panama.”
“Fine, but you lose your edge and let my ass get bitten by those fucking things and I will fucking kill you.”
Apollo smiled and punched his buddy in the shoulder.
“Besides, this isn’t as bad as Panama, but it is much worse than fucking Bolivia. Fuck, that one sucked.”
“Yeah, it did.”
Both of the men stopped well short of the bridge, but could see what the dust cloud was from. The passing undead were like nothing they had seen; there were more than before. Many more.
“Holy shit. The fucking zombies knocked the bridge down. Unass it, dude. We’ve got to figure out a new plan.”
The large herd of undead pushed up the embankment and some of the numbers reached the frontage road. The stream of walking dead was at least one hundred feet wide and stretched as far as they could see. The stench affronted them even from two hundred feet away.
“Looks like we have a fan club.” Apollo pointed to the frontage road on their left. Close to three dozen undead ambled towards them.
“Shit on this. Time to haul ass.”
Apollo and Chivo jogged back towards the Land Rover, Apollo circling his hand above his head. Lindsey didn’t know what that meant, but correctly guessed it was time to go; she climbed down and into the still-running Land Rover. Chivo took the wheel, made a fast U-turn, and backtracked at a high rate of speed. After ten minutes of fleeing the approaching horde, Chivo turned off the highway and onto a dirt road to put a little distance between them and the highway before he stopped the SUV.
Apollo climbed out, pulled the Pelican case with the SATCOM out of the cargo area, and began setting up the antenna; they needed to check in with Groom Lake.
CHAPTER 46
Groom Lake, NV
February 17, Year 1
The two civilian leaders walked back to the quarantine under armed guard in case they somehow suddenly died and turned, which was a bit ridiculous, but so was everything else in the way of the new world. Cliff walked back to his office with the intention of drafting a plan to check for and defend against any Chinese assault forces. With everything that had happened, Cliff hadn’t given serious thought to the possibility of invading parties already in CONUS before the civilians brought it up. Cliff frowned at the thought of his oversight before he was interrupted by his phone ringing. He pushed the speaker button. The extension showed to be from the radio hut.
“Cliff, you need to come in here. Someone asked for you by name and said he was a part of Lazarus.”
For a fraction of a second, Cliff’s eyes widened in surprise before he regained control of his emotions.
“Copy that, en route to you.”
Cliff stood and walked briskly out of his door towards the radio hut.
Moments later, Cliff burst through the door and walked straight to the airman who had called him. Without speaking, Cliff took the headphones off the airman and put them on his own head. He turned to the airman and said, “Why don’t you step out for a smoke?”
“I don’t smoke.”
“Why don’t you step out and try picking up the habit?”
The rest of the men in the room looked at Cliff with puzzled expressions. In the past few weeks, they had never seen Cliff act so strangely or speak like that to anyone.
“In fact, why don’t all of you step out and see about starting smoking.”
With a number of raised eyebrows, the four other men stood and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind them. Cliff checked to make sure he was alone before he keyed the radio mic.
“Lazarus Four, go ahead with your traffic.”
“Lazarus Six clear copy. Four status and package report, over?”
“Lazarus Four secure site three with zero package, one and two confirmed lost, all others presumed lost.”
“Lazarus Six copy and secure in site seven with one package, package nine in hand.”
Cliff’s lips curved to a very slight smile. “Clint, open channel. We don’t have time for this anymore.”
“Cliff, why are you at three? You were assigned one.”
“They didn’t follow the plan and were overrun. Three was overrun too, but I was able to secure it. What is your current count?”
“Just the two of us, including package nine.”
“I have zero copy from anyone else until you. I think nine is now promoted to one.”
“I agree. My board shows green for sat link. Do you have anyone to witness?”
“Yeah, quite a few. Give me ten-mikes to get them set up. What freq?”
“Primary freq, channel one. We’ll take the prime spot since it appears to be just us for now.”
“Roger. Ten mikes from … three, two, one, now.”
“Copy, counting.”
Cliff stood and walked out of the door to find the airmen near the door and very obvious about acting like they weren’t trying to listen. Cliff ignored that transgression for now
. “Get Wright, get the civilians out of quarantine, get everyone even if you have to wake them up, and come to auditorium two. You’ve got five minutes.”
The airmen stood still for a moment and then quickly left down the hallway towards the rest of the facility. Cliff stood still for a moment, his hand resting on the butt of the pistol holstered on his right leg. Guess I’ve got to get my shit together if we’re going to swear in a new President of the United States.
Bardwell Lake, Texas
Clint walked to the women’s dormitory, where he and Amanda had been living together for the past few weeks. The computer system had experienced a serious malfunction, and it took Clint three weeks to break into the system and run the recovery diagnostic. Without computer access, Clint had no way of knowing which facilities were still in service. Even with a working radio and SATCOM systems, he didn’t have the frequencies memorized and needed access to the system. Over the past three days, Clint had reviewed the SATINT imagery from the SeeMe system and what he found was devastating destruction across most of the United States. Worse yet, all the facilities except his and Groom Lake showed to be offline, most likely with no survivors. He didn’t have the chance to investigate what happened to all the other facilities. That would have to wait. First, he had to complete the primary objective he began back in December.
“Amanda, I made contact with Groom Lake. They’re setting up a satellite video link between our facilities. You need to come with me.”
After gaining computer access, Clint was confident that Amanda was the last survivor in the Presidential line of succession, but he didn’t tell her, because he wanted to make contact with the only other remaining facility that appeared to be operational first.
Both of them walked to the video room, which had video cameras pointing at three different walls with three different printed backgrounds. One was the background of a photo of the Capitol Building, another looked like the Oval Office, and the third was just an American flag. Clint chose the background of the American flag and stood Amanda in the middle of the background in front of the camera. Taking her hand, Clint faced Amanda, “I’m about to swear you in as the current President of the United States. I made contact with another from my team located at the bunker in Groom Lake. He was supposed to be at the bunker in Denver, but said they were overrun and both the President and the Vice President are dead. All others in the Presidential line of succession are missing and presumed dead.”
Amanda laughed at Clint. “What about the President pro tempore or the Secretary of State or even the Attorney General? I’m really far down that list.”
“You’re number nine with the current administration. As of right now, my team believes you are the highest-ranking survivor. If we’re going to succeed, we need someone to be the President. We need a leader to rally survivors and to take our country back from the dead.”
“But I’m no President. I didn’t have the first idea what to do or where to begin to run this country before the attack, much less now that society is all but lost.”
“That’s why you have me. Together we will succeed.”
Amanda kissed Clint on the lips. “Well, if you’re going to make the President, we better get started.”
Clint looked at the digital clock on the wall before leaving Amanda standing in front of the wall print of the American flag so he could activate the cameras and start the broadcast.
“We have three minutes, so try to look Presidential.”
Amanda looked down at the ACU pants and brown t-shirt she was wearing. She wasn’t even wearing a bra and she felt like a fraud, like a child picked to be the class leader for the day before passing the duty on to someone else.
Clint opened a drawer and removed a laminated piece of paper. Long ago, he’d memorized the words printed on the paper, but since he had a little bit of time, he read through them three more times before returning the paper to the drawer and walking in front of the camera with his lover.
The light in the ceiling behind the camera turned from white to red, and the monitor next to the camera showed Clint and Amanda on one screen and a small auditorium full of people on the next.
Clint looked at the clock on the wall again before clearing his throat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present Amanda Lampton, the Secretary of Agriculture and the highest-ranking living member of the Presidential line of succession. If you would raise your right hand and repeat after me.”
“I do solemnly swear. That I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.”
Clint shook Amanda’s hand. “Ladies and gentlemen, Amanda Lampton, the President of the United States.”
Amanda glanced at the monitor and at the people in the auditorium, who sat in stunned silence before erupting in applause. All the people on the other side of the satellite uplink stood and continued with eager applause. The applause slowly died down and the people in Groom Lake took their seats. Amanda was shocked and a little angry at Clint since she wasn’t prepared to be sworn in as the President, much less give a speech.
“Thank you, Clint, and thanks to those of you on the other side of this uplink. We traveled from my home in Little Rock to this facility in Texas, fighting for our lives and losing Clint’s teammate to the walking dead en route.”
Amanda closed her eyes and took a deep breath, searching for the words to continue. Her knees felt weak and suddenly she felt a little dizzy. “To quote what Lincoln said in 1863: It is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth. Thank you and God bless.”
Amanda walked off camera and sat on the edge of a table, shaking. Once Clint shut down the video uplink, he walked to her and gave her a hug. Tears welled in her eyes and she cried into Clint’s chest for a few moments before gaining her composure.
“Those people, they’ve survived, they’re safe. We survived and we’re safe. There have to be more people surviving for now. We have to help them. We have to do something. I have to do something. I just … I mean, I have no idea what to do. It was bad enough being taken from my home by you and your partner to fight our way across Texas and to be safe, but alone in this huge bunker. What are we going to do?”
Clint gave her a rare smile. “Madam President, it is time that I brought you up to speed on a top secret project: Who I am, and what Cliff and I were tasked to accomplish.”
Amanda sat in silence. The man she had taken as a lover and trusted had been lying to her—or at least keeping secrets.
“My name isn’t really Clint. That name was assigned to me, just as my partner’s name was. Who I was before is of no importance; I had no family before the attack and no personal history of note. However, in college I was approached by a secret taskforce headed under the banner of the CIA. I thought it was to be a superspy like what Tom Clancy wrote about. We began our training at the CIA’s facility in Virginia commonly referred to as ‘The Farm’ then continued through an exceptional amount of special schools. There were originally thirty of us, each of us tasked with different priorities, missions, and objectives.”
“We were all code named ‘Lazarus,’ and just like the man of the same name in the New Testament, we were supposed to rise from the dead. Well, not us, but we were supposed to help the United States rise from the dead. We’ve known about the Yama Strain for a number of years and have been working hard to find a way to protect ourselves against it. They attacked before we were ready. The unassuming man in char
ge in the uplink at Groom Lake is Cliff. We went through the training together, but we had different missions within the same project.”
“Cliff was supposed to be in Denver with the Vice President and apparently he was; the facility under the Denver airport was overrun and the VP killed. Cliff verified that POTUS was also killed. He fled to Nevada and to Groom Lake.”
“Wait, what exactly is Groom Lake? I know you said it was a base in Nevada, but it seems to be a bit more involved than that.”
“In popular culture, it was always referred to as Area 51.”
“The Area 51?”
“The same, but contrary to what some believe, there are no aliens. It started as a facility to test top-secret aircraft, but eventually a large underground bunker was constructed as a backup facility. As you saw on the monitor, Cliff has been successful in gathering a number of survivors. Normally, we would do the same here, except that I have a new mission objective.”
“Which is?”
“To protect you against all threats foreign and domestic, living or undead. We are not going to actively seek survivors for our facility. It isn’t safe to expose you to any outside threats until we can establish more containment and begin the process of repopulating the major open positions in the government. Besides, with only two of us, we can’t manage any arriving persons. All of them would have to be searched, documented, and quarantined for signs of infection before being allowed into the main facility. If you die now, there is no one else in the line of succession. We would be outside the bounds of the Constitution.”
