Che preferred to hunt naked, he always had. It was a spiritual thing for him, and he felt that it brought him closer to whatever animal he was hunting, and these things were no different from any other animal; they deserved respect and would get it. Besides, by respecting your prey, you typically do not end up getting eaten by it.
Everyone thought he was crazy, but Che, of course, would always argue that it made sense from a tactical standpoint. In Che’s mind, it made no sense to put on armor that just made noise when no one was really completely positive how those things even hunted yet. Smell seemed to be the most obvious, as they could be observed hunting by smell and following scents, but there was more to it. Che could tell, but did not know exactly what. No, going naked was better, and having others think he was crazy was just a side benefit. It kept them, and their noise and smells, away from him. He was safer that way. Alone was always safer with those things around. Besides, if he got cold, he could always fashion something to wear from the skin of whatever he killed.
Che set the lamp down and scooped some water into his mouth. It was cold and clean. The cleanest water he had tasted in some time. It was so refreshing, he wanted to stay there all night and drink until he was bloated, but he knew he had work to do. And it was better to be thirsty when hunting. It sharpened the instincts.
Che continued forward down the shaft, leaving the lamp behind him in the dark. From this point forward, he could not have light, as it would give away his location and also prevent his eyes from adjusting to the night. Che could see stars ahead. He was at the entrance to the mine. Perfect timing, as the moon had not yet risen, so it was still very dark, and the wind was swirling in all directions; anything hunting based on smell would be confused. Che would have a slight advantage tonight in the hunt, and with his skill set, he didn’t really even need that.
It was going to be a good night indeed.
The cold passed reluctantly from his body, and the fog began to lift from his mind only to be replaced by a throbbing headache. He had no idea how long he had been unconscious, but clearly it was long enough, as he could feel the cold steel of his own handcuffs biting into the flesh of his wrists. He could tell someone had injected something into his neck. He had been poisoned. A poison apple…Snow White…it was all coming back to him now. He was no longer on the floor, and someone had moved him into a sitting position and cuffed his hands behind his back, which could only mean one thing:
“What are you doing here?” it was muffled, but definitely a man’s voice.
William opened his eyes and looked up in the direction the voice had come from. The room was dark, but there was no mistaking the man now holding a shotgun to his head. Even though he looked like a clown in the bright yellow radiation suit he was wearing, William knew exactly who, and more importantly how dangerous, he was. William chose his words carefully.
“My name is…”
“I don’t give a fuck what your name is. Who you are is completely irrelevant. I asked you a simple question: what are you doing here?” Cooper pointed the shotgun even more directly at William’s face.
William straightened himself up as much as he could. “United States Marshal, Protective Services Division.”
Cooper lowered the shotgun slightly, but kept it pointed directly at William.
“You’re not very good at it. Where’s your partner?”
“I don’t have one.” William replied, truthfully.
“So I’m supposed to believe that they sent you, alone?”
“Well, I’m who they sent, Dr. Cooper.”
Cooper raised the gun and pointed it directly back into William’s face. “Knowing my name does not prove who you are, and more importantly, knowing my name does not prove whose side you are on. Many people know my name on both sides of this war.”
William could see that he had agitated him, but his instinct told him it was important to hold his ground. “No, it doesn’t. But surely you must have seen the U.S. Marshals’ transport vehicle out front. I parked right out in the open. If I were here to hurt you, I would have been more discreet. How stupid do you think I am?”
“I don’t know. I just met you,” Cooper replied shortly.
“Come on, I turned on all the lights in the house announcing my presence to you for miles before you got home,” William argued.
“That proves nothing. You could just be retarded. Plenty of those turds floating around in the gene pool these days.” Cooper was enjoying this.
“You’re wasting valuable time, Doctor. I have my ID and transfer paperwork all in order.” William motioned to his briefcase on the table.
“I hardly think you are qualified to lecture me on the value of time! And ID’s and paperwork can be counterfeited!”
“Well, if you want me to get you out of here, then I guess you will just have to take it on faith that I am who I say I am,” William replied.
Cooper snorted a laugh and took a few steps back away from William, leaning the shotgun against the radio and began to take off his chemical suit.
“You’re probably the only person in the country right now voluntarily getting out of a radiation suit.” William hoped that making some small talk with Cooper could ease the situation.
“It’s not a radiation suit. I’m not some nutcase with a fallout shelter in his basement, thinking he can survive a nuclear war with a plastic suit and stockpile of food. I am a Nobel nominated chemist. This is a chemical suit.”
“Well, you might want to keep it on until I can get you out of here. I just heard on the radio that the CDC is reporting that whatever it is, it has gone airborne.”
“It isn’t airborne, and it won’t go airborne,” Cooper replied with authority.
“If it’s not airborne, then why the suit?”
Cooper over-exaggerates sniffing the air with his nose.
“Those things out there, they mostly hunt on smell. This suit makes me smell like a plastic bag. It keeps my scent contained, and I can walk right past them, mostly.” Cooper sat down in the leather chair next to William. “What’s your security clearance?” he asked.
“Top secret. SCI and SAP_ cleared,” William replied.
“And you’re in asset transport?” Cooper questioned.
“No, not normally. Normally, I’m in Special Operations. I was transporting some important documents from Denver to Cheyenne. They diverted me to pick you up and take you to someplace safe.”
“Someplace safe? Give me a fucking break. They sent a messenger boy to take me ‘someplace safe?’ Do you really expect me to believe that shit? Do you have any idea what is going on out there?”
“I have some idea. I lost secure communication about ten hours ago, nothing but static on the radio. But the Emergency Alert Service messages are still coming over broadcast radio.”
“Yeah, well you can’t believe everything you hear on the radio, you dumb-ass. Didn’t your parents teach you anything?”
“My parents died when I was young. Drunk driver.” It was a lie, but William was used to lying. Besides, he was an orphan, so it wasn’t that much of a stretch. William wanted to make a connection with Cooper, having read in his file that a drunk driver had killed his wife many years before. It seemed to be working, as Cooper’s posture changed ever so slightly.
“Well, you can believe the radio, or you can believe the scientist. I’m telling you with absolute certainty that it is not airborne.”
Cooper had taken a softer tone with him and changed the subject back to the virus. It worked. William had made a connection on some level. He could risk asking a question. “Can I ask how you know?”
Cooper laughed out loud, then took a deep breath and waved his arms around him. “For starters, this house is over a hundred years old and has more leaks than the Nixon White House. If it were airborne, we wouldn’t be having this conversation…we’d be trying to eat other.” Cooper reached down beside him and picked a gas mask up out of the green army bag on the floor next to Cooper’s chair.
/> “Before I left Denver, the news was saying there was every indication that the virus had gone airborne on the east coast.”
“It isn’t. The rapid spread out east is purely mathematical. Population density.” Cooper pulled the gas mask down over his face.
“Then why the gas mask Doctor?”
Cooper motioned with his hand for William to wait one second, then proceeded to pull a bright neon purple bong from the bag, complete with a half-burned bowl of what William could smell was marijuana. Cooper attached the bong to the gas mask and lit the bowl. A gurgling bong sound filled the room.
“Are you for real?” William was getting agitated. “You need to un-cuff me, now! We don’t have time for this!”
Cooper ignored William, but spoke to him anyway. “You know, many great scientists smoked weed. Carl Sagan, Richard Feynman, Francis Crick, Stephen Jay Gould.”
Mental note: Stephen Jay Gould. That name was new to William.
“Gould?”
“Paleontologist, biologist. He developed the theory of Punctuated Equilibrium.”
“Punctuated Equilibrium? What’s that?” William asked.
Cooper hit the bong one more time, automatically entering his ‘professor mode’ as he began to lecture William. It was something Cooper did anytime anyone asked him a question about a subject he was personally interested in, and William knew it. It was in his file. William could relax a bit because the more they became friends, the easier it would be to get Cooper to let him go. Besides, half the mission was already accomplished; he was in the same room with Dr. Cooper.
“Simply put, punctuated equilibrium is the theory in evolutionary biology that proposes that most species exhibit little net evolutionary change for most of their geological history. They remain, in effect, in a sort of evolutionary stasis. When significant evolutionary change does occur, the theory proposes that it is restricted to rare and geologically rapid events of branching speciation called cladogenesis.”
“Cladogenesis?”
“I know, it sounds like an STD right? I’m sorry son. You have cladogenesis. Here’s some penicillin.” Cooper laughed at his own joke for a moment and then resumed his lecture.
“Cladogenesis is the process by which one species splits into two distinct species in a very short period of time, as opposed to a more conventional theory of evolutionary perspective where species gradually evolve over millions of years. If it’s easier, you can think of it like lightning hitting the Phylogenetic Tree of Life. Bam! Lightning! Tree of Life split in two.” Cooper paused for a moment for dramatic effect.
“There are many scientists that believe that this accounts for the so called ‘missing links’ in the fossil record. The links are not missing. They simply never existed in the first place. Bam! Cladogenesis.”
“Is that what’s happening? Humans are evolving into two distinct species?”
“A new species better suited for a world with air unfit for humans to inhale and water unfit for humans to drink. A world that is perfectly suited for a new species of human.” Cooper hits the bong again.
“But how could it be evolutionary when those things are dead?”
“The fast ones, the violent, rage-filled ones, those are just the infected. They might still be alive on some level. But for how long, it all depends on their food supply. Once that runs out, they will die just like anything does without food. But here’s the kicker. Once the fast one dies, the infection kicks in again, and they simply rise back up, only slower. The walking dead, if you will pardon the cliché.”
“So, the fast ones are still alive, and the slow ones are the truly undead?”
“Yes, if you want to call them that. I prefer to reserve the term undead for those that have been properly put to rest and then risen back from the grave. But I am sort of old-fashioned that way.”
“How is that even possible?”
“Chemistry, biology, physics. It’s all really just applied basic science. Maybe if you paid better attention in school you wouldn’t have to carry a gun around for a living.” Copper hit the bong one more time.
“You don’t have to be insulting. I’m just trying to understand what’s going on.”
“Aren’t we all? And I’m not being insulting. I am being factual.”
“Well, I am sure you will be a tremendous asset to the Crisis Management Team. Will you please let me go so I can take you to the rendezvous point?”
“Ok, assuming I play along, where do we go from this rendezvous point? What happens next?” Cooper’s questions were oozing skepticism.
“A helicopter will transport you to a secure facility.”
Cooper laughed out loud.
“You still don’t get it, do you? There is no such thing as a secure facility anymore. It’s only a matter of time now, sort of like an aggressive cancer. Sure, you can fight it, but how long are you really going to hold out for? And to what end? What quality of life? Besides, even if there were such a thing as a secure facility, I couldn’t leave yet.”
“Why not?” William asked.
“I’m waiting for someone.”
“I’m not authorized to transport anyone else.”
“You won’t have to. They don’t have long to live,” Cooper stated matter of fact. The sound of a teapot whistling could be heard coming from the kitchen, punctuating the silence.
“Sounds like the water’s ready. Would you like some tea?” Cooper asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. He strode out of the room with purpose, taking both the shotgun and his chemical suit with him.
William struggled with his cuffs, only to confirm what he had already suspected; he was also chained to the fireplace by a chain that was mortared into the stonework. The chain, mortar, and rock were all solid. William resigned himself to the fact that he was Cooper’s prisoner.
“I can’t let you kill anyone if that’s your plan.”
“I don’t think you really have too much of a say in it at this point.” Cooper replied from the kitchen, which William reflected was true because if Cooper wanted to kill whomever was arriving, there was nothing William could do about it. William could hear the sound of teacups clanking onto their saucers, and then onto a table or tray. What he could not see, however, was Cooper adding a few drops of fluid from the end of a syringe.
“You need to release me. We need to leave now if we are going to make it to the rendezvous point on time to be extracted with the others.” William pleaded to the empty room in hopes that Cooper was listening in the kitchen.
A few minutes later, Cooper returned to the living room carrying a tray, two teacups, and a teapot.
“You need to release me!”
Cooper simply ignored William and placed the tray on the small table in front of the sofa, then sat back down in his chair and addressed William as if he had heard none of his pleading for release.
“The tea needs a moment to develop full flavor,” Cooper began to explain to William, but was interrupted by a loud and urgent knock at the door.
“Right on time. With all those things hunting out there, imagine the odds of that. Astronomical if you think of it. If you will excuse me for a moment, I need to get the door. There are quite a few of those things out there, and more keep arriving each hour. I would hate to keep a lady waiting.”
“Who is it?”
Cooper said nothing, just patted his revolver in his holster and motioned for William to keep quiet. Then he left the room to answer the door. From where he was chained to the fireplace, William could not see into the foyer, but he could hear what was happening.
“Hurry, come in. Wow, you look amazing.”
“Holy shit, it’s crazy out there. I’ve never seen anything like it before,” a woman’s voice replied. William tried to match the voice against any of the possible women Cooper was known to associate with at the time, according to the file, but came up blank. It almost sounded like….but that was impossible. He would know in a minute anyway, as they were coming his way.
&nbs
p; “You followed my instructions to the letter, I hope?” Cooper asked.
“Yes, of course, I always do honey…” he could hear the woman reply. William thought he noticed her words slur just slightly, but couldn’t be sure. It could be a regional dialect. It was familiar in a haunting way. But there was no way that was possible…
Cooper entered the room followed by *Ilsa, a woman William did not need to be introduced to. She was trying to disguise her voice, but it was her. He was familiar with her file as well although it had been years since he last even gave her a thought. Why was she here? What was she doing? She was dressed like some sort of high-class prostitute from the 1940s. Maybe she was finally living up to her full potential, he thought.
“Allow me to introduce you two.” Cooper said as he ushered Ilsa into the center of the room.
“Hello,” William said, looking Ilsa in the eye.
“Handcuffs. Kinky. I like it.” Isla either did not recognize William after all of these years, or she did not want Cooper to know that they knew each other. William was unsure, but played along. He had walked into the middle of something; it would be best to see how it played out. Besides, he was chained to the fireplace. What option did he really have?
Cooper ignored Ilsa’s remark and introduced her to William.
“Ilsa, this person claims to be one of the United States Marshals that are assigned to protect me. If that’s true, then as you can see, he is not very good at his job.”
“You have U.S. Marshals assigned to protect you? Ilsa asked, a look of concern suddenly crossing her face.
“Yes, I do. I have had them for some time. For protection. Does that surprise you, Ilsa?”
“To be honest, a little. I never noticed them, and you never seemed to want to use protection before.” Cooper and Ilsa shared a private laugh. “But if he’s going to join us, it’s going to cost you extra.”
The Ilsa that William knew was a whore, but not a prostitute. Interesting twist, William thought to himself.
Genesis Page 5
