First Wave Series Box Set (Books 1-3)

by JT Sawyer

  Logan’s last man had just closed the hatch door above and was descending as the entire group walked through the room past the immense door. They walked down a short cement passageway which had four side doors, three of which were ajar; as they moved along, Travis could see the contents of each room. The first was a commissary filled with canned food, MREs, cooking pots, a propane stove, and water purification filters; another room was stacked with anatomical books, alphabetized medical files, racks of test tubes, hazmat suits, and trauma supplies; the third room contained several dressers beside four bunk beds, only two of which were unmade. A bathroom and shower were located to the rear; the fourth room was closed with a caution sign indicating that a hydroelectric generator was located inside.

  Then they entered a round chamber which was sixty feet in diameter. In the center was a narrow workbench with several microscopes, a laptop attached to a portable battery, an ultrasound machine, and a series of large centrifuges. Along the right wall was a metal exam table, three empty animal cages next to an EKG scanner, and a well-used whiteboard heavily scribed with illustrations of the human spinal column and a cross-section of the brain. By the left wall was a gray countertop with security monitors which showed peppery images of exterior regions up top and a view of the river below, where the generator drew its power via a concealed pipeline. Mounds of crumpled paper, soiled test tubes, and MRE wrappers overflowed from a nearby trash receptacle marked with a biohazard symbol. The entire room had the strange odor of bleach, sweat, and moldy food.

  “So, this is it—this is the lab that’s going to salvage mankind?” said Logan, rubbing the whiskers on his chin and grimacing.

  “It’s not the lab, but the man who has been toiling here the past three months,” Talia said, pointing to a diminutive figure hunched over a table to their right behind pallets of water jugs.

  As the man stepped around, Travis noted his advanced age and wispy, silver goatee and then, with wide eyes, raised up his AK and rushed towards him. “This guy works for Pallas.”

  The man stepped back, hitting the table, and raised his frail arms, glancing furtively at Talia and back at Travis.

  “Easy, Trav, this guy’s on our side,” said Talia, who was slowly moving up behind Travis.

  “How do you figure—I saw him in a decon suit coming out of the chamber where those dead convicts were. This is the guy—Doctor Gummerman, as I recall—isn’t that it, pal?” he said, thrusting the muzzle of his AK into the elderly man’s chest.

  “Please, please, you must understand, I was only there because…because…” He tried to finish but began stuttering as his facial muscles quivered. He lowered his arms and looked at Travis with misty eyes.

  “What the fuck—I’m supposed to buy this puppy-dog routine?” said Travis, rolling his eyes at Talia.

  “His wife and two daughters were being held by a female operative that worked for Pallas,” said Talia; she placed her hand on the AK’s muzzle, lowering it. “He has sacrificed more than you know to be here in this place. After his family was killed, he fled and retreated here, awaiting the arrival of Pearson and the vaccine. He’s also the one who pulled my frozen body from the river after my run-in with the snipers.”

  Gummerman had removed his spectacles and was dragging his shirt sleeve across his moist cheeks before speaking. “Only none of this matters now, not you, not me, not the world unless you have what I have waited so long to obtain.”

  “Yeah, I got it,” Travis said, still trying to read through the man’s body language. “But what I want to know is, if you’re not with Pallas anymore and you ain’t on Team Logan, then who the hell built this cushy facility that nobody seems to know about. You’re not operating alone, are you, Doc?”

  “I was wondering the same thing myself, actually,” said Logan as he moved up to the trio. “You don’t show up in any of my databases or intel reports and I know all the players in this longstanding chess game.”

  “While I was forced to work at Pallas, I was approached by a group called the Five Eyes. They are…” He was cut off by Logan.

  “….a covert group comprised of five intelligence agencies amongst our allies around the globe, I know. So, they approached you and dangled the hope of your family’s rescue in front of you if you defected, is that it?”

  “Yes, but Pallas must have had another research center working on a parallel strain they had developed and the virus must have been unleashed from there. The Five Eyes had this facility constructed and were going to make it one of their satellite research branches in the US. After everything fell apart during the initial weeks of the viral outbreak, I fled here with the help of my handler, who died a short time after we arrived. Pearson was the only other person who knew of this location as he had the remaining vials of vaccine that I could use to synthesize larger doses. He was once a student of mine, long ago. Until recently, there were two lab assistants here as well, but they were both killed by RAMs outside while trying to salvage supplies down near the city.”

  “That’s how he found me,” said Talia. “He spotted me in the river security camera below while looking for his colleagues.”

  “Again, Doc, how did you manage to stay under my radar for so long?” said Logan.

  “That tends to happen when you are locked in a subterranean facility for two years.”

  “Then how did the Five Eyes make contact with you?” said Travis.

  “Enough of this interrogation. We are wasting precious time. Are you here for the antidote or not? I will answer your myriad curiosities later,” he said as he stared at Travis.

  Travis unslung the weathered pack and removed the metallic case, handing it slowly to Gummerman, who grabbed the resin handle. Travis held his hand firmly on the case, looking at the man, and then slowly relinquished his grip.

  After placing it gently on the table behind him, Gummerman opened the case and reached inside, removing a single thumb-sized glass vial from the padded interior. He held it up and then sat down, gliding his chair over to a microscope and slide-tray. Travis noticed burn scars on Gummerman’s hands and arms. They resembled wound patterns he had seen on a captive he had once rescued who had suffered the horrors of electro-shock interrogation.

  “That’s it!” Travis said, crossing his arms. “That’s what I’ve been running for, killing for, and risking lives for—a fucking thimble of serum?”

  “Not serum at this point, young man. This is the last vial of healthy cells from the only known patient to survive the prototype virus that Pallas developed. Hundreds of test subjects and he was the only individual to live because of his complete immunity,” he said, greedily scanning the slide image of a single drop from the vial.

  Travis thought of Becka and her lack of symptoms. “He might not be the only one who is immune. I have a young lady with me who was bitten two days ago and hasn’t turned yet. She’s heavily sedated but shows none of the classic signs of someone about to become an RAM.”

  Gummerman paused and looked over his shoulder at Travis, then slowly turned back to the microscope. “Her ancestry—where does she come from?”

  “Malibu, California…hell if I know her fucking ancestry. She’s thirteen, blonde, and has blue eyes. She looks like a surfer.”

  “She may possess the same unusual genetic makeup as this man here,” he said, motioning with his chin to the slide before him. “His family was from Belarus originally, as far as we know.”

  “What about the fast-moving RAMs we are hearing about around the world—do those signal the coming of the second wave or is it something else?” said Talia.

  “I’m not a hundred percent certain but I believe it is. It is definitely an unintended mutation as none of the research that Pallas was doing involved such an outcome,” said Gummerman. He stared at the slide on his microscope and then darted a glance back at the others. “You must remember, the main reason that viruses evolve faster than, for example, insects is because they multiply at a much faster rate than other organisms. And tha
t means every new individual is an opportunity for new mutations as they make a copy of their genetic material. Many of those mutations are benign. But occasionally, a mutation will help the organism better adapt to its new host. Those with the most adaptive features will survive and flourish. I believe that is what we are witnessing now with the faster RAMs.”

  “Doc, how long is this going to take? I have to be in contact with my men outside and my radio won’t work down here,” said Logan.

  “Time…time…” the man said, muttering to himself. “Uh—time—let’s see….a few hours and I’ll know more,” Gummerman said, pulling up his blue shirt sleeves.

  Logan went back to his team, who were standing at the entrance of the lab, and directed two men to accompany him above and bring Becka down to the lab.

  Travis and Talia remained next to each other a few feet away from the doctor. “So, life’s been good for you, bopping around the country, being Logan’s lap-dog all this time,” he said to her.

  She uncrossed her arms and placed them on her hips. “I don’t belong to any man. If you hadn’t been playing hide-and-seek with your merry band of squirrel-eaters, this whole fucking ordeal would have been over months ago.”

  He glanced over at her. “I can’t tell if I’m standing next to Talia or Logan; I mean, minus the admirably stoic ‘not belonging to any man’ comment.”

  “You know, Trav—whatever you think of him now, Logan was concerned about finding you for the sake of finding you. You were always one of his favorite operatives.”

  “You got a Kleenex? I’m getting misty.”

  “Still the same old sarcastic Travis. Glad to see you’re offbeat sense of humor hasn’t changed much.”

  “Yeah, and you’re still the same seemingly indestructible hellion that I remember,” he said, nudging her with his elbow and looking at her with a steady gaze.

  “Better watch it, mountain-man, my reflexes were always faster than yours.”

  “Pff…that’ll be the day,” he said with a half-smile.

  Chapter 19

  “What’s the population of Montrose at present?” said Katy as she leaned torwards the crew member in the right seat of the CH-47 Chinook helicopter.

  The man shouted back, “A few hundred personnel and about as many civilians. Everyone is situated in a three-square-mile enclosure around the downtown.”

  Katy peered out the front window and could see a backdrop of white peaks in the distance as they approached the city. “Looks like Flagstaff all over again but with more snow,” she said to Pete, who was buckled in beside her.

  “Yep,” he said, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees while staring at the floor.

  “You still sore about what Travis told us back at the trading post?”

  “Yep.”

  “I was surprised myself and I haven’t known him nearly as long as you have. It must be a lot to process with all you two have been through.”

  “Well, he always had a reclusive side. He seems to live in his own thoughts at times but I just figured he had flipped off his switch for a while. Now, who knows what the hell he was thinking—probably reliving memories of slapping somebody around for information or God knows what else.”

  “You know, my dad was a cop. For a few years, when I was a teenager, he took an undercover job in narcotics. I remember our family dinners during that time consisted of my mom and my brother and I doing all the talking while he sat in silence, trying to emit the occasional smile at one of our jokes. That line of work eventually took its toll on him, and later my mom, who eventually divorced him.”

  Pete leaned back and twisted in his seat to face Katy, who continued talking. “I’m not saying you’re wrong to be pissed at him deceiving you all these years, but it probably wasn’t something that sat well with him, knowing the person he is and how much your friendship means to him.”

  “I’ll get over it, I’m sure,” Pete said. “I’m just tired, Katy. Tired of running, hiding, and doing the unforgivable things I’ve had to do to other people. I just want to see my sister again in Idaho and put all this behind me.”

  She placed her hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. As the helicopter veered to the right, making its approach to the city, they both turned and looked at the layout below. Katy pointed to the downtown, where the hospital, library, and city hall buildings were located. People were busy moving back and forth and there were horses tethered to posts on the streets like in old Westerns.

  “Wow, an actual city with people walking around and buildings with lights on,” Katy said. “Everything looks so neat and organized here.” She craned her neck, gazing at a cluster of large conifers lining the sidewalk below which were glinting in the sunlight. “Look, they even have a few trees decorated with Christmas ornaments.”

  “Christmas?” said Pete. “Is it the end of December already?”

  She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Nora and Rachel pointing to a large warehouse with its massive bay doors open while workers inside operated forklifts. “Look at all the pallets of food and supplies inside there.”

  Katy noticed the crew member up front laughing. “What’s so funny?” she said.

  “The new recruits we bring here always act like they’re country bumpkins visiting the big city for the first time.”

  “Recruits—we’re not recruits,” Katy said with a puzzled expression.

  “Oh, I just assumed that’s who you were. Most of the people we bring here have been recruited for Commander Logan’s unit.”

  “We were with Travis Combs and were told to wait in Montrose until he and Logan returned.”

  “Really? The Travis Combs? I didn’t know you were with him. With all the talk there has been in our daily briefings during the past few months, he’s become legendary in our circles—walking across Arizona on foot with the cure while killing gangs of bikers and bringing Flagstaff to its knees recently. I’m surprised they haven’t put up a bronze statue of the guy downtown yet.”

  Katy looked back at Pete and the others. “You know the dude they’re talking about, because I thought ‘Mr. Combs’ was just a cranky old bastard who liked pulling everyone’s reins too tight,” Katy said, and they all broke into smiles.

  “They’re probably telling campfire stories about him right now back in Winslow,” chuckled Dane.

  The helicopter swept across the downtown area in its descent and landed on an improvised airstrip on the high-school football field. As the crews disembarked, Katy and the others hopped out onto the artificial turf, which had a thin layer of crisp snow over it.

  They followed the crew across the field and into the high-school gymnasium, where they passed through a decontamination chamber and received an automated misting of anti-viral spray. After exiting, they each stepped up to a nurse, who took a pin-prick of blood and tested them for the presence of the virus. The entire process took fifteen minutes. Once they were cleared, an orderly escorted them to a classroom, where they met Logan’s second-in-command. He was a stocky man in his forties, with salt-and-pepper hair. “Hello and welcome to Montrose. My name is Lt. Randy Palaski.” He stepped forward and shook the hand of each person while they introduced themselves.

  “I know you most likely have a lot of questions but why don’t you follow me and I’ll take you to your quarters, where you can shower and change into some fresh clothes.”

  “Showers,” squealed Nora. “Real hot showers?”

  The lieutenant smiled. “Yes, we have hot showers, hearty meals, reasonably warm beds, and even a barber if you want to get a haircut.”

  Katy, Nora, and Rachel were all beaming as they moved closer to him. Pete pried his way in between the two sisters. “What about pizza or a cold beer—you got any of that?” he said with a grin.

  Chapter 20

  Two hours later, Gummerman was still poring over his slides and pulling test-tube samples from a nearby centrifuge. The man moved with the energy of three people, bounding between the two t
ables where his equipment was spread and glancing up at a handwritten formula on a large whiteboard mounted on the wall.

  After listening to Talia recount her rescue by Gummerman, who had discovered her hypothermic body via the river security camera, Travis got up from his chair to check on Becka, who was lying on an exam table. He thought of the rest of his group back in Montrose, probably slurping down hot coffee and fresh food while enjoying the feel of clean clothes. His mind drifted back to Pete and the hurt look on his friend’s face at learning of Travis’s deception. The man is a brother to me and now he’s probably wondering what other things I’ve bullshitted him about all these years. Ahh, the wonderful life of covert operations…home of Travis Combs, the double-tongued bastard.

  He looked at the rest of Logan’s men spread around the room. Like other operators he had worked with, they seemed like solid guys with a stern moral code. He wondered if they knew what they had really signed on for with Logan, and about the murky lines he would have them cross; or did their lust for high risk override their clarity of purpose, as had his own on so many missions? He thought of the cabin in the mountains where he hoped to find his son. That would make a nice place to live and rebuild his life with Todd and Katy—away from the city, the government, and the responsibility of cradling so many lives. Teaching his son to hunt, track, and live as a free man so he wouldn’t be dependent on the false promises of agencies and institutions. He longed for the comfort of a warm fireplace and the delight of reading a book to his son under the warm glow of a lantern.

  Becka was moving her arms and groaning as her eyes fluttered open. Travis sprang to her side and held her hand. “Doc, get over here.”

  Gummerman carefully placed his instruments down on the counter and walked over to the metal exam table opposite Travis. “The barbiturates we’ve been pumping in her these past few days have to be wearing off. She’s coming around—what should we do?”

  Gummerman studied the girl’s face and gazed at her skin color, then he removed a penlight from his lab coat and shined it in her eyes. “To be honest, I’m not sure. I’ve not heard of such a prolonged case like this before. She should either have died by now or turned.”