Living Proof

by Peter J Thompson

  They needed help from someone.

  Why not Jason?

  Jason Ulmer worked in the Department of Defense. He wasn’t high enough to truly help them, but he could at least give them some information. She pulled out his number and dialed the phone.

  Someone picked up on the third ring. “Department of Defense.” The voice was flat and toneless.

  “Yes, Jason Ulmer, please.”

  “One moment, I’ll connect you.” The voice cut out, replaced by recorded music.

  What would she say when he answered? Suddenly, she felt apprehensive. Her palms were sweating. She had no right to involve him—this was too dangerous. She hung up the phone.

  She checked her phone list again and dialed Allen Edwards at Newsworld. The media was still the answer. She would tell them the real story.

  A female voice on the line answered, “Mr. Edward’s office.”

  “Yes, I need to talk with him right away.”

  “Mr. Edwards is in a conference now and can’t be disturbed. Would you like to leave a message, or can I connect you to his voicemail?”

  Lena took a deep breath. “This is Lena Dryer. He’ll want to talk with me now. I’m in the news.”

  The secretary’s voice changed. “One moment. I’ll see if I can get him.”

  The phone was picked up almost immediately. “Lena?”

  “Hello, Allen.”

  “My God. I can’t believe you’re calling.”

  “It’s not like they’re portraying it, Allen. They’ve got the story all wrong.”

  There was a long pause. “Okay, why don’t you tell me what did happen.”

  Lena poured out the story. She started with when Ramon approached her in the parking lot and how she knew it was him. She told about her conversation with Jason and how that corroborated the story, then she talked about their meeting with Jack Van Russell, and how he’d been killed, and they were lucky to get away alive.

  After she was done, there was a long silence on the other end. It sounded like he was conferring with someone else. When he came back on the line, his tone had a hint of condescension. “So this whole thing is a conspiracy?”

  “That’s right. I know this is hard to believe, but it is.”

  “Right. And this Ramon was able to overpower the man with the gun?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly how it happened.”

  There was a silence again before he came back on the line. “That’s a real interesting story, Lena. I think the best way to handle this is… well, you need to turn yourself in, but we can be there to cover it. We can arrange everything. And we’ll give you an exclusive forum where you can tell your side of the story.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “I don’t see that you have any other choice. They’re going to find you, Lena. My guess is it won’t take long. At least this way, you can control how it happens.”

  “If we turn ourselves in, they’ll kill us…”

  “Do you realize how paranoid you sound? This whole story is crazy.” He paused for a moment and again seemed to be talking with someone else. “How about this, Lena. We’ll meet somewhere and we can discuss your options. No risk. What do you say?”

  Lena’s heart beat fast. It did sound paranoid, but it was the truth. Edwards clearly didn’t believe her, but did it matter? Then again, what if he was with them? He was talking to someone. Who was there? Was he involved? Had he somehow been bought out?

  “So how about it, Lena. Where can we meet?”

  Her pulse was racing. She didn’t know what to think. “I’ve got to go.” She slammed the phone down on the receiver and sat back, exhausted.

  That night, Lena lay awake, her nerves on edge. Their options had run out. They were nearly out of money, defenseless and vulnerable. They couldn’t trust the media. They couldn’t trust the government. They were all alone. But there was no way they could make it on their own. They had to trust someone.

  Lena took out her laptop, unplugged the phone, and pulled up the internet. She waited while the computer made the connection, then logged into the conspiracy chat room. She signed in as Ms. Skeptic and sent out a call for TRUE BELIEVER.

  The building that served as a gym at the Johnson Installation was a cavernous sheet metal structure that could, if needed, double as an airplane hangar. At its peak, the ceiling was over thirty feet high. Two full-length basketball courts were set next to each other, running the width of the building. They were surrounded by an oval jogging track. Basketball rims hung down from the rafters connected by lengths of metal tubing. The floor was covered in a texturized rubber that had been laid directly on top of the cement. It was soft on the eyes but murder on the legs.

  No athletic activities were scheduled for today. Near the center of the gym, two tables were set up, spaced apart, to serve as stations. In front of the tables stood a long, straight line of soldiers, waiting their turn.

  There were two men at each table. At one, a pair of officers handled the paperwork, looking through reams of computer printouts and marking off each man by name, rank, and company. Two white-coated technicians worked at the other table. As each man was checked off the computer list, he’d walk over to whichever technician was free, roll up his sleeve, and put his arm into position. Each technician controlled a stainless steel cylindrical machine, the machine was loaded with pre-measured doses of vaccine. At the push of a button, the dose shot out in a high pressure burst into the arm of the waiting serviceman. The equipment worked without needles and could immunize hundreds of people per hour.

  Major Bob Durmo sat in the front row of a set of bleachers just off court, across from the technicians. He was close enough to hear the conversations of the soldiers as they came up to the station. They all asked variations of the same questions:

  “Is this going to hurt, Doc?” or,

  “What’s this for? I’ve already got all my shots.”

  Durmo knew what they were going to say before they said it. He’d been watching all morning. It started out slow and disorganized, but as the day went on, the workers found a rhythm and the pace picked up. Now the system was working like clockwork. They’d already processed over three thousand men—nearly half the residents of the base. It wouldn’t take long for the rest.

  There was no reason for Durmo to stay here, but he couldn’t leave. He’d never thought it would come this far. He’d been at the base for three years, and under Pope’s command for two more years before that. He was one of the few who really knew what was going on, what they were doing, and why they were doing it. The development of the vaccine had been a slow and frustrating process. It had taken a full three years to come up with a beta formula, but now, the rollout was moving surprisingly fast. The vaccine was only half the equation. The first part, the toxin, was already in place. When used together, they had the potential to change the entire course of world history. And it looked like they were rapidly approaching show time, and that made him nervous.

  Durmo tugged on his ear as he watched a skinny private take his hit and move across the gym to the exit door. What now? It had come this far, would they take the final step? Durmo tensed as he heard footsteps approach from behind. Even on the rubber floor, the footsteps were distinct—the hard, regular steps of a large man walking with total confidence. He knew who it was without turning.

  “There you are, Major. It is a sight, is it not?” Colonel Pope came alongside Durmo and lowered himself onto the bleacher seat. “Just six months ago, this would have seemed a fantasy.”

  “Yes, sir.” Durmo glanced quickly at the colonel. He was surprised to see the colonel was smiling. In the five years he’d served with Pope, smiles were as rare as rubies.

  “Do you remember when we first began our mission? The obstacles appeared nearly insurmountable. Our scientists were running into dead ends, the problems we had with our containment system, how difficult it was to procure the quantity of subjects necessary to keep our mission viable.” Pope sat straight in his seat, eyes l
ocked on the technicians in the middle of the floor. “Seeing how far we have come is quite satisfying.”

  “Yes, sir. We sure have made progress.”

  “In a way, we owe a debt to our rabbit. If he hadn’t forced our hand, we would still be cautiously rerunning the same set of experiments. This has easily shaved a year off our timetable.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They were both quiet for a time. Durmo shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The silence was nerve-racking. He wished he was alone somewhere, away from everyone. Especially the colonel. He didn’t want to hear any more. He didn’t want to know any more. He just wanted to forget about everything and start all over. He’d give anything for a second chance.

  Pope broke the silence. “Yes, we are far ahead of our timetable. Unfortunately, we’re still under considerable constraints.”

  “How’s that, sir?”

  “We need to be prepared to move forward with our mission at any time. If the rabbit is not snared quickly, we’ll have no choice.”

  “Yes, sir. I understand.”

  Pope stood up and stretched out to his full height. “Now, Major, we have come as far as possible under laboratory conditions. Before we can move into the final phase, we need to make certain everything behaves as expected in a real life situation.”

  “Real life? I’m not sure I follow you, sir.”

  Pope took off his glasses and carefully inspected them before he put them back on. “It’s quite simple, Major. I need you to prepare a test. A field test. We need a trial run with real subjects. Outside the laboratory.” Pope stared straight into Durmo’s eyes. There was still the hint of a smile.

  Ramon had forgotten how good it felt to drive. It was strange at first, but that didn’t last long. He was amazed at how automatic it seemed, how natural. Before breaking out, he hadn’t driven a car in over ten years. But as soon as he got behind the wheel, he was in control. Free. It was a joy to be moving, to feel the power of the car on the road. He had an urge to punch the accelerator and see what the car could do. He wanted to speed along like he was strapped to a rocket. He wanted to fly, but he didn’t. Instead, he checked his mirrors and kept his speed down to sixty, making sure to stay right in the flow of traffic. The last thing they needed was to get stopped for a traffic violation in a stolen car.

  They needed a change in cars and license plates before they started out again. This time, Ramon picked an old Chevy Caprice from a shopping mall near their motel. The Caprice was a good road car with a strong engine and comfortable seats, but it gulped down the gas. And money was tight. They were nearly broke—Lena was down to her last ten dollars and Ramon had only coins. It was a good thing they were close to their destination.

  It was a long drive from St. Louis. The road north through Illinois was long and flat. The only scenery for hours was corn and soybean fields, grain silos and road signs. When they got closer to Chicago, the view changed to a suburban mix: housing developments and fast food franchises. They took the interstate north, all the way past Milwaukee into semi-rural Wisconsin.

  “That’s it. Turn here.” Lena pointed to the exit sign.

  “The first one?”

  “Right, this is the way.”

  Ramon took the exit onto a two-lane blacktop road. The countryside was a mixture of farmland and subdivisions at the far edge of the suburbs. Ramon drove another ten miles, making several turns in the process before arriving at their destination. The neighborhood was made up of a hodgepodge of styles and sizes from doublewide trailers to larger brick homes, all on oversized lots.

  Lena looked at the paper on which she’d written her notes. “There it is.” There was excitement in her voice as they pulled into the driveway.

  The house was an old cape cod with yellow aluminum siding. There were two cars in the driveway: an old Ford rusting through the body, and a newer Toyota with an Ancient Aliens bumper sticker.

  They walked up to the front door. Lena stepped in front and rang the bell. Ramon looked around the surrounding area. No one was outside and the houses were spaced far enough apart to assure privacy. They seemed safe enough, but it was all so crazy. What the hell were they doing here?

  A moment later, the door opened a crack. The chain was still on from the inside. A sliver of a face looked out. All they could tell was that it was a man with glasses. “Yes?” he asked.

  “Philip? It’s me, Lena… Ms Skeptic.”

  The chain came off and the door opened a little wider. “You look different than in the pictures I’ve seen.”

  “I dyed my hair. It’s a disguise.”

  The door opened all the way. Philip was in his mid-twenties, average height and thinly built with shaggy brown hair and a goatee. He had a thin face and round-framed glasses covered his soft brown eyes. He wore jeans and a flannel shirt. He looked straight at Ramon and then he was suddenly excited.

  “My God, it is you!” Philip stepped outside and quickly looked both ways up and down the street. “You better get inside. Someone could see you out here.”

  Inside, the hall was dark. It was near dusk and the only interior light was from a room down the hall, hard rock music blared from the room.

  “I can’t believe you’re really here. This is awesome,” Philip whispered excitedly. “I stayed home from work today just in case you got here. God, I can’t believe you’re here!”

  “We appreciate your help, Philip. There was no one we could turn to,” Lena said.

  “This just proves what I’ve been saying all along. The government’s controlling everything. They’ve got the media in their pocket—that’s why the only stories that come out are the ones they want the people to hear. The media’s in on it—along with all the big businesses.” Philip’s voice rose along with his excitement. He flapped his arms around as he talked. “The corporations, the media, and the government are all facets of the same…”

  Someone suddenly yelled from the room down the hall. “What the hell’s going on out there, Dweeb?”

  Philip stopped short, “Uh… nothing,” he called back. He turned toward Ramon and Lena. “Um, I’ve got roommates. They don’t know what’s going on. I’ll introduce you as my… uh, cousins.” He looked at Ramon. “Or maybe she’s just my cousin. It won’t be a problem.” He gave a weak smile and started down the hall.

  Ramon looked at Lena. Was this what she’d expected? Did she feel good about this situation? Lena shrugged and followed Philip down the hall. Ramon took a deep breath. If this was their best hope, they were in worse shape than he’d thought. Reluctantly, he fell in behind Lena and walked down the hallway and into the big room.

  The room was meant to be a living room, but the only furniture was an old plaid couch, a small coffee table, and a big screen TV. Metal music blared from the TV. The screen was split down the middle with dual images of futuristic cars flying over the road through a surrealistic landscape. It took Ramon a second to realize it was a video game.

  On the couch, intensely manipulating their game controllers, were two large men. They both appeared to be in their mid-twenties. One was athletic, tall, and broad-shouldered with short dark hair, thick eyebrows, and a dark tan that helped to hide the acne scars on his face. The other one looked like a professional wrestler. He had curly red hair, a pasty white complexion, and a crooked nose. He slouched on the couch like a mountain, mounds of fat covering his huge frame. He was one of the biggest men Ramon had ever seen.

  Philip hung back at the corner of the room. He spoke tentatively. “Um… guys, Frank and uh… Jelly, this is my cousin… uh… Linda and her friend … uh, Roy…”

  Without looking up, the dark roommate barked out, “Speak up, Dweeb. Can’t you see we’re playing?”

  “Yeah, um, sorry, Frank.” Philip spoke louder. “This is my cousin Linda and, uh, Roy. They’re going to be staying here for a few days.”

  Frank leaned into a curve, turning his controller like a wheel. “No skin off my ass. Just don’t let me hear you talking none of that consp
iracy shit again. I hate that crap.”

  Jelly, the bigger one, grunted in agreement.

  “Yeah, sure. Well, we’ll see you later.” Philip seemed relieved as he backed toward the door.

  Frank looked up for the first time and saw Lena. His eyes widened with interest. “Hey, wow. You don’t have to leave so quick.” He smiled at her. “Why don’t you stick around for a while?”

  Jelly howled with laughter as a loud crashing sound came from the TV. Frank pivoted back to the screen with a shocked look on his face, “Hey, that’s no fair! I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “You should have been playing, jagwad. Ah’m gonna kick your ass!”

  Frank elbowed him in the ribs as he grabbed his controller and punched the buttons. “Shit, you’re cheatin’.”

  Philip backed all the way out of the room. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Ramon and Lena followed him down the hallway as the two roommates continued to fight in the background. “Don’t worry about them. They’re like that all the time.” Philip switched on a light as they came to a stairway.

  The stairs were steep, and in the dim light, Ramon had to be careful as they climbed. Coming here was starting to look like a real bad idea. Staying with these three was crazy. Two morons and a weirdo. He wanted to talk with Lena, to see how she felt. She’d had the contact with Philip before, but it didn’t feel right to him. In order to survive, they needed money and a place to stay, but he liked his chances out in the open better than this.

  A landing at the top of the stairs opened onto two rooms. Philip motioned to one room; the door was open. A full computer system sat on a desk. “That’s my room.” He gestured to the other door. “This is my spare room. You can stay here.”

  The room was small but comfortable. It held two single beds and two dressers. A window looked out at the street below.