Marilyn guessed the houses of the subdivision had been there at least twenty years if not more. They had a lived-in look, but not run-down. Of course, all of them now had out-of-control lawns, so it was hard to tell how maintained they might have been before the plague. She followed Honey out from between two houses onto a street that wound around and curved through the housing tract. They quickly crossed the street and entered a house on the other side. In the dim interior she was relieved to find the gear and supplies she had collected from the surrounding houses. She didn’t know why she was afraid it might be gone, but there had been nightmares of her returning to this house and finding faceless Collectors standing over her trove.
She and Honey had been waiting for four days. After arriving, finding the trail, finding the old tin shack, finding the viewpoint to watch the entrance to the secret base, she had come back to this house and begun to set up her base. She had gathered supplies the second day from the neighboring homes. She had even gotten so far as to start rounding up bicycles. There were three in the garage, including hers. She had found an RV in good shape at a house two streets over and wondered about the motor, wondering if she could count on it. She knew trying it would attract immediate attention. But she knew where it was. Then she had waited and prayed. And always she came away with the impression that waiting was the best choice, but part of her wanted to take action.
Each day, she had tried to figure out a way to get into the base. Sneak in on a vehicle? Too risky. Wait near the entrance unseen? Still probably not a good idea. So she had waited and watched, learning the pattern of activity. Then last night, that pattern had been broken, and today all activity had ground to a halt. She wished she knew what was going on, but she had to pretend that it was something Chase and Sonya were doing, some way they were disrupting things. They would be coming out soon, she thought. Or maybe they needed help. She took a moment to offer a quick prayer, and the feeling of waiting, of required patience was gone. There was no voice, no sign. But she knew it was time to get the RV.
The RV was well-maintained. She removed the wheel chocks and tire coverings, lowered the leveling jacks and slowly figured out how to secure everything before moving it. Honey followed her around curiously, watching her every move. Marilyn was glad the owner had conveniently posted a checklist on a clipboard in the driver’s side door. Once everything was secure and all the items on the checklist covered, she turned the key. The motor started easily. The gas gauge told her the tank was full. Leaving it idling, she opened the gate onto the street. She climbed back inside and eased the RV out the gate. A few turns and a short drive brought her back to the house she had claimed as base. There, she loaded supplies. The weapons, the few she had brought and the ones she had been able to gather in the subdivision, she stowed in a cabinet immediately behind the driver’s seat. She knew she didn’t have the firepower to face all of the soldiers, but after the changes she had seen, she didn’t think she would be facing all of them.
By the time she was loaded, it was early afternoon. Too nervous to eat, she decided the time had come to go to the base. To get to the base’s entrance, she had to leave the subdivision, drive through downtown, circle out into the countryside, and then back around to a rusted chainlink fence covered in bullet-hole riddled KEEP OUT signs. In the downtown area she encountered a few creepers, but was able to run them down in the big RV. There weren’t many, and she wondered if most had already made their way north or if they had fallen subject to the clean-up crew’s methods. The rusted fence at the gate was closed. She knew that there were well-hidden motors to open the gate, but she didn’t know how. She rammed the rusted metal with the RV and it went down easily. The previous owner, who had obviously taken meticulous care of the vehicle, would have been heartbroken at the scratches on the front and sides. Then a short winding road led her to the entrance she had watched for the last few days. The soldiers were out of the Humvee, standing with their rifles held in front of them but not pointed at her. She stopped well short of them. She didn’t know what she would do if they opened fire. She sat there for a long time, waiting for them to do something, waiting to understand what she should do.
Finally, the soldiers started talking to each other. At first, their heads were just turning slightly toward each other, and they ended up facing one another. Despite the fact that she couldn’t see their facial features for their masks, their body language told her they were having an animated discussion. Finally, one of them stomped off and went to sit against the tire of the Humvee. The other started walking toward the RV. Marilyn decided it was time. She slid out of the seat and back to the side door, which was hidden from the soldiers’ point of view. As she passed the cabinet with the weapons, she briefly considered grabbing one. She thought she could kill the soldiers pretty easily. Grab a rifle, go out the door, drop to the ground and crawl under the RV, two quick shots, and it would be over. But something stopped her. Something told her that wasn’t necessary. The soldier who had walked away, who had thrown himself to the ground and sat against the Hummer’s wheel. Like a small child. A lost child. She stepped out of the door, weaponless, and walked around to meet the soldier who was approaching.
He stopped when she and Honey rounded the corner of the RV. He started to swing his rifle to firing position then stopped. He must have seen she was unarmed. They continued walking toward him. He stood there, expression unreadable, but body language saying everything. He had given up. She walked up to him, stopped and stood within a few feet. They studied each other. She couldn’t see much of him, just his eyes through the clear plastic of the mask. The eyes were tired, dark circles apparent. She saw him look at Honey, and then watched as his eyes scanned her from her feet upward, stopping at her face. Something in those eyes told her he was broken. There was intelligence there, but also a dullness of spirit. Or maybe she was putting all those characteristics there. Either way, the soldier just stood there, saying nothing.
“My friends are in there,” she said. “I’m going to go get them.” The soldier nodded, but didn’t speak. They both jumped as the sound of a shot whipsawed through the air. Marilyn dropped to a crouch, but the shot had not been directed at her. She looked to Humvee, to the form of the other soldier still seated against the wheel. His rifle was pointed at his face. In almost slow motion, what she now realized was just a dead body fell to one side, rifle clattering on the cracked cement.
The remaining soldier turned back to her and finally spoke. His voice was muffled, but she could understand him. “I guess I saw that coming. He’s been talking about it since we got news that the base was compromised. We have nowhere else to go. It’s just a matter of time for us now. He took the easy way out. I’m not even sure why I’m waiting.” He sighed, the exhalation magnified by his mask. “When I was a kid, I had a dog like yours. Pretty dog.” He stopped again. “I was raised Catholic, you know? I hadn’t even really thought about that until the last couple of days.” He turned and started walking away. “Come on. I’ll let you down. We haven’t been in. There hasn’t been anyone talking down there since last night.”
“What about the…people who don’t get it, who don’t get sick?” she asked. “Aren’t they still okay?”
The soldier didn’t stop walking, didn’t turn to face her. “No way of telling. I think things may have gotten a little out of control. The last person talking down there was Beaker, and he just kept saying the same thing over and over.”
She wondered who Beaker was. “What was he saying?” she asked. She wanted to stop him, to ask him questions, to tell him she needed to go back to the RV to get a weapon, some weapons, but he wouldn’t stop. His voice and the way he was walking told her that if she pushed at all, made any demands, he would just walk away.
The soldier stopped at a telephone pole with a gray box on it. It looked like a circuit breaker box, but when he opened it there was much more than just simple switches there. She saw a lighted keypad and a small display screen. “Something about now being t
he red death and the ebony clock. Didn’t make any sense at all. The stuff does that before it kills you, you know. Makes you crazy.” He looked at her finally. “You have any idea what that means?” She shook her head. “Me neither. Glad it’s you going down there and not me. I think whatever happened down there might cause nightmares for a long time, if I was going to be around for a long time. Which I won’t. And pretty soon, that place is going to be full of Subjects walking around that used to be people I knew. Hope your friends are worth it.” He punched some numbers on the keypad, and the screen lit up.
“They are,” Marilyn said. “I hope they’re okay.”
“Me, too,” the soldier said.
“What’s your name? What are you going to do?” Marilyn asked.
“Patrick Mulvaney. And I guess I’m going to die. I just haven’t decided how long it’s going to take. Go ahead and go stand on that metal plate there. It’ll take you down. And here.” He dug in a pocket for a notepad and handed it to her. “These are the codes for the doors you might need. My memory for numbers isn’t so good. We weren’t supposed to write them down, but I did.”
Marilyn’s chest felt painfully full and she realized she was about to cry. “Why were you here? You seem like a good guy.”
“I wasn’t. I wasn’t a good guy or a bad guy. I was just one of the last guys. I should have just died with everyone else.” He pointed at the lift. “Down there you’ll find the bad guys, or what’s left of them. I was just here. Pretty soon I won’t be, just like everyone else. Go on now. I’m tired. I want to go rest.”
Marilyn stood for a moment, just looking at him until she realized there was nothing she could do. She couldn’t help him and she was afraid to ask to go get a weapon. So she turned and walked to the lift, big enough for a small truck. She stood on it, feeling small. She crouched and put her hand on Honey’s back. Patrick Mulvaney punched some buttons and the lift began to go down. She raised her other hand to wave at him, but he had already turned and was walking back to the Humvee. She knew he wouldn’t be there when and if she came out.
Chapter 30 – Sonya
In the damp grittiness of the tunnel Sonya watched the strange doctor. Koeller she didn’t worry about as much because she thought whatever he did would be rational. She wasn’t sure about the doctor. And of course she kept an eye on Chase. She was taking cues from him. She followed him as he backed up, moving away from the doctor and the first sergeant until there was about ten feet between them. Chase indicated to her with his head that she should move around behind him, which she did. Koeller was speaking, but she was only half listening to what he had to say. Chase was handling that part of it. Her part was to help discover where her father was. So she watched the doctor.
“This is the last bastion of sanity in this world, the last hope of mankind,” Koeller said. “And you are threatening to end it.”
“What do you think we are?” Chase said. “We are what is next. We’ve got a group of people, Immunes, and if you could get all of us you would experiment on us, probably kill us just to preserve your own lives. But we’re the ones who have the possibility of growing. Becoming a community of people who care about each other. But your group can’t do that, and you can’t even live without us. So now you’re just a bunch of scared guys in a hole. And even if you find immunity, that’s not likely to change for the better.”
Their conversation continued, and Sonya observed the doctor as he listened. He flushed each time Chase mentioned leaving, and when Chase mentioned taking all the Immunes, she thought he would blow. His eyes kept going to a spot over her shoulder, down the hallway, and she kept looking back there in case something was coming behind her. There was only an empty corridor full of doors. She stood behind Chase as he held the tough old soldier and mad scientist at bay with a balloon and a needle and thought to herself, I’m tired of standing and waiting. Time to start doing.
“Chase?” she said, interrupting whatever was going on between him and Koeller, a real clash of egos if there ever was one.
“Yeah?” he answered, not turning to look at her.
“The good doctor keeps looking at these doors behind us. I think I’ll try opening them. See what I can find.”
“Yeah,” Chase said, sounding a little surprised. “Why not?”
“NO!” the doctor said. “She will not. This is where science is. She is not a scientist.”
Sonya looked at him, then turned and opened the nearest door. A horrible stench enveloped her. Inside there was a bare room, walls and floor covered in a white substance that looked like it might have leached from the concrete walls. In the dim light Sonya could make out a huddled form in the corner. She walked forward to investigate, but as she grew nearer, she saw the sick yellow of bone protruding from a rotten mass that might have once been a leg. Was this her father? And then she saw that the form was much too small to be her dad. She didn’t look too closely. It could have been a child. Or a small woman. She backed out of the room and closed the door. Without looking at him, she spoke to the doctor. “And what is science, Dr. Green? Is it holding people against their will? Locking them in rooms? Killing them with your experiments?”
“Yes! Those are the means, but that is not the purpose. There are unfortunate things that happen. Mistakes. We must know the full effects. You will not understand. You cannot understand.” He started forward, but Chase raised the balloon and the needle, bringing them closer together. Koeller reached out and held the doctor by the arm.
By his reaction, Sonya decided she was on the right track. She walked to the next door, losing interest in the conversation in hope of finding her father. But she couldn’t help but hear.
“What is there to understand?” Chase asked. “A plague came along. You and all those soldiers ducked down in here and the rest of the world died. You say you’re working to create a vaccine, but when you find one, you don’t even share it. You had to keep trying before you even let them know. Science is supposed to help people, right?”
“No!” The doctor said. Sonya wasn’t sure if he was talking to Chase or if he was telling her not to open another door. It didn’t matter, because she had already grasped the handle. She pulled upwards and it opened on another scene of horror. There was a different smell here. More chemicals. On a table in the middle of the room a body lay strapped down. A tray nearby was covered in what Sonya guessed were medical instruments. Scalpels, maybe, and other things she didn’t know the name of. The body on the table was open. The chest cavity gaped, there was a cut down the stomach, and it looked to Sonya like all the organs had been removed. But there wasn’t anything else wrong with the body. It wasn’t a creeper. It was just a guy, cut open and lying there. No other marks on him. She closed the door.
“What do you mean, Doctor? Science isn’t supposed to help people?” Chase asked.
“Science is about discovery. Science is about new knowledge. Science is about understanding. If that knowledge and understanding helps, then so be it. But that is not the purpose. The purpose is to know!” The doctor was growing more agitated, more flustered. Sonya approached another door and prepared to open it. Koeller was working hard to hold Dr. Green back now, despite the size difference. “Stop!” the doctor cried. “Stop, girl!”
Curious, Sonya turned around. The doctor sagged against Koeller’s arm, momentarily regaining composure. Koeller jerked his arm back, unable to hide the revulsion he felt at having touched the little man. “Why, Dr. Green?” Sonya asked. “Is this the one? What’s behind this door?”
“The answer!” The doctor said. “He is the one. The one who will allow me to better understand.” His face lost the look of alarm he had been wearing and took on a sly expression. “Or maybe he is not. Maybe it is the next one. But I will have answers if you will just let me. If we can just stop this nonsense, we will know.”
“What will we know, doctor?” Chase asked.
“Why the fungus even exists! Why an immunity developed where the fungus was not present! In t
hose answers is so much knowledge!” Sonya could tell the doctor was growing more comfortable. She could tell the doctor believed every word he was saying, that he was making a strong case, that soon they would see reason and stop this charade and allow him to get back to his studies. “You see, the fungus ‘knows’ only one thing. To live. To survive. To continue. And this is the same for all life. It almost died, you now. The spores were discovered, and by a strange fluke, one of the discoverers shared a higher than normal number of genes with Neanderthal man. He was local to the area, you see. And he became infected. It was all so exciting. Such a thing should not have been possible!” Sonya looked from the doctor to Chase, and a look of horror was growing on Chase’s face. She looked at Koeller, who only looked confused. The doctor continued, “But we could not reproduce the result here. And obviously we could not experiment on people in the current academic environment. We had to see more, but we couldn’t recreate it. What were we to do? This was the most exciting discovery ever made! This fungus completely changed our understanding of so many sciences! Neuroscience, biology, and so many others. We had no choice.
“We made some changes in the fungus and we created a controlled exposure event. The dispersal method of this fungus took us by surprise. You have seen this, I think. The exploding mummies, the press called them. The sick who just died, did not reanimate but went immediately into spore-producing mold. And the incredible acumen of the fungus to send these to highly populated locations! That was unfortunate. We could have learned so much more in better conditions than those here. But the work continues!” He looked proud, smug, as if he had driven his point home.
Sonya could tell Chase was completely shocked, and she began to sense the cause of his horror before she allowed her conscious mind to make sense of what the doctor had said. But Koeller was ahead of her. In one smooth motion, he turned, pulled the pistol from the holster, and shot the doctor in the head. The force blew him back into the opposite wall, and his lifeless body crumpled to the floor in stages, first at the knees, then the waist, and finally after hitting the sitting position, slumping to the side. Sonya watched, frozen. Neither Chase nor Koeller moved until the doctor’s body came to complete rest. When Koeller turned back to Chase and Sonya, the expression of horror on his face reflected what Sonya was feeling. He raised his pistol and pointed it at Chase.
After Everything Else (Book 3): Creeper Revelation Page 21
