The Oort Plague

by Cliff Deane

  “Well, First Sergeant…”

  “Please, Professor,” said Sanders, “call me Izzy, or Israel, I’m happy with either one.”

  Jake smiled at his new friend and said, “Thank you, Izzy, and please call me Jake. Have you been able to make contact with any members of your unit?”

  “Yes, a few, but they all live more than fifty miles away. Of those few, only ten were willing and able to report for duty. I told them to stay with family for now and to offer their services to any local government departments that might still be functioning. Did you have any luck with the CDC?”

  “Top, I hate to admit it, but the phone network was just too complicated for me. I decided to wait for you and allow my team to try to reach family. This team of mine may be young in age, but they are all West Virginians and are coping well. Two of us are Army Veteran’s; myself and Frank Lusk. We both had one deployment to the Sandbox. We got out as E-5s.”

  “Good, good, do you have any long guns?”

  “No, all of our weapons are sidearms, but we do have quite a bit of ammo,” said Jake.”

  “Good report, now, shall we get your call to the CDC?”

  Three minutes later the CDC Operator answered the call. “CDC, please state the nature of your call,” came a curt sounding Operator.

  “Hello,” said Jake, “my name is Professor Jacob Abraham. I Chair the Archaeology and Paleontology Department at West Virginia University. I have information concerning the physical transition from Human to Mag. Put me through to your Director,” said an equally curt Jacob.

  “Hold one, please,” said the Operator in a much more conciliatory tone.

  “Hello, this is Doctor Tyler Deen. I understand you have some information concerning the transition period of the Mags. Where are you currently located, Professor Abrams?”

  “Sir, I am in Moundsville, West Virginia, and my name is Abraham.”

  Deen said, “My apologies, Professor Abraham, I’ll just change that in my notes, here. All right, now, please tell me about your information.”

  “My Dig Team and I have observed the turn of one male and one female from Human to Mag. We made regular notes, written, recorded, and videoed. Would you like to have them?”

  Deen now seemed excited at the possibility of obtaining this information, especially the video portion. “Yes, of course, absolutely, oh, my, yes. How do you propose to get them to us? We can arrange pickup if you are unable to come here.”

  “Doctor, do you have a secure way to receive this information?”

  “Yes, absolutely,” said Deen, “but if you come in to our facility, we can give you a physical exam and provide safety.”

  Jake wanted no part of becoming a test subject for CDC Researchers. He said, “No, Doc, that doesn’t work for me, but I will ask the survivors of my team to see if they are interested. Here is my proposal; I will place all of our data into your secure drop-box and depart.”

  “I see,” replied Deen, “all right, I agree to your terms. How may I contact you?”

  Jake told him that for the next four hours he could be reached at the Armory phone. After that, his group would be out of pocket until they arrived at the CDC facility. Since the roads were almost totally free of vehicles, Jake believed the trip of 650 miles should take no more than ten or eleven hours by driving straight through and cycling drivers. Deen suggested that the CDC could send an airplane to pick the team up and fly them down to Atlanta. Again, this was not an idea, or trap, that Jake was willing to accept.

  “No,” said Jake, “there are Mags everywhere, and I do not intend for us to be trapped in an unsecured airport.”

  “Doctor Deen, you will have the data at some point in the next twenty-four hours. Goodbye, sir,” said Jake as he broke the connection.

  Jake then turned to his team and said, “Well, there you have it. They want the data, and I have a suspicion they want us for research. So, here’s your chance for safety. If you would like to join the CDC folks, let me know by the time we get to Atlanta.”

  The First Sergeant then said, “We have vehicles and fuel. I suggest we mount machine guns on each vehicle, even though they will be just for show since we have no ammunition. Showing them might keep any bad guys out there from trying to take the vehicles away from us.

  “I also think it would be a good idea to pull out right after dark. Mags have to sleep, too, and eight or nine hours of travel will put us near Atlanta by sun up.”

  5 April 2118, 1800

  CDC

  Secure Level 5 Labs Building

  1600 Clifton Rd NE, Atlanta, GA 30329

  Dr. Deen was both excited and frustrated at the conditions set forth by this Professor Abraham. He decided that he must quickly inform the President’s Chief of Staff. Deen dialed the personal cellphone of the COS.

  Seeing that the incoming call was from the CDC, Simon Ward quickly answered, “Ward here. Tyler, I hope you are calling to tell me that you’ve made a breakthrough,” said an anxious COS.

  “Hello, Simon,” said Deen, “unfortunately we do not have a breakthrough, but we did get a huge break that may well lead to one. I was just contacted by a Professor Jacob Abraham, the Chair of the Archaeology Department at West Virginia University. He reports that he is currently in Moundsville, West Virginia and has data and video on the transition from Human to Mags on both a male and female.

  “Simon, we need that data, now. Abraham was unwilling to be picked up at the Moundsville Airport. He said that he and his team would be departing in the next few hours from their current undisclosed location. They plan to drive through the night and deliver the data in the next twenty-four hours.

  “Simon, we need, not only the data, but I would like to take possession of these seven people for physical exams and further study. Can you make this happen?”

  The President’s Chief of Staff’s voice became both sharp and commanding. He said, “Doctor Deen, did the President not make it clear to you that no one would be held against their will? Is there some way I can be assured that you understand his directive?”

  Deen quickly changed his demeanor and replied, “No, sir, I absolutely understand. I will, of course, adhere to the President’s directive, please accept my apologies, I guess I did get carried away.”

  “Yes, Doctor, you most certainly did. I also assure you that this call is being recorded and I will make certain that it is kept in safe keeping. I will not make your request known to the President unless, or until, you decide to disregard President Holcomb’s directive. Understood, Doctor?”

  “Yes, sir, completely understood. I assure you that there will be no violation of President Holcomb’s guidance,” said a contrite Deen.

  Now, the COS sounded angry as he said, “Damn it, Deen, the President did not give guidance on this issue. He gave a directive. Damn, what the hell is the matter with you?”

  Deen was now concerned that he might lose his job and be tossed out into the open pandemic filled air.

  “No, no, please, I didn’t mean that to sound like I did not understand his meaning. It was simply a poor choice of semantics. It will not happen again.”

  “All right, Tyler,” said a mollified Simon Ward, “your apology is understood and accepted. Shall we get back to a more congenial discussion?”

  “Yes, Simon, I would like that. I hope you know that I am on-board with the President’s path moving forward.”

  “Thank you, Tyler, I’ll get back to you soon. Please be sure to keep me informed of any new developments. Goodbye.”

  Before Deen could say his own goodbyes, the line went dead. Deen made an obscene gesture toward the phone and said, in a low voice, “What an asshole.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  GUNFIRE

  5 April 2118

  Walmart

  Prescott, AZ

  Cindy was thrilled to find the parking lot empty, and even more pleased to find four semi-trucks backed up to the loading docks. The huge steel doors were down and locked, another piece of luck. She di
rected Jim to park right in front of the right side Main Entrance.

  “Well, there’s another break, the doors are still intact. It also looks like we are just a bit ahead of the power curve. Everyone else must be busy either fighting or dying. All right Jimmy, look sharp Soldier, I just found you, and I’d rather not have anyone other than me kill you, okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am, but why would you kill me?”

  Cindy smiled and said, “Most likely for calling me, ma’am.”

  Jim smiled but did not respond. Cindy believed in being prepared for any old apocalypse and pulled a set of lock picks from her seemingly bottomless pack.

  Jim was surprised at the picks, and he asked, “Cindy, do you know how to use those picks?”

  “Son, let me ask you something; why would I have a set of lock picks if I didn’t pay a locksmith to teach me how to use ‘em? Fortunately, the power is off so no alarm. We’ll rip that out after we’re all settled in.”

  “Why bother?” asked Jim, if the power is off. Oh, wait, yeah, generators. Damn, Cindy, you are one smart cookie.”

  “Thanks, Jim, now let’s go on in and clear the building. We don’t want to walk up to a Mag that had been a Manager with a set of keys, who was here when he turned, now would we?”

  “No, ma’…um, Cindy, good thinking.”

  She swung the door open, and both stepped through in combat mode.

  “Well, damn,” whispered Cindy, “I didn’t really expect it to be this dark. She reached into her pack and pulled out a night vision monocle.”

  “Dang, Cindy, is there anything you don’t have in that pack?”

  “Yes, foolishly, I didn’t plan on finding a partner who didn’t have a pack just like mine. Now, shut up and stay behind me. We’ll go to sporting goods first. Walmart does sell night vision monoculars, you know.”

  “Well, hot dog, I did not know that.”

  Upon reaching the sporting goods department, Cindy quickly found a monocular that would strap onto Jim’s helmet.

  “Cindy, I don’t have a helmet. Say, would a football helmet work?”

  “Yep,” said Cindy, “right this way,” and with helmet, monocular, and batteries in hand, Cindy led them back out of the store and into the sunlight. In only a few minutes, Jim was hooked up and ready to return to the darkened store.

  With both of them utilizing the night vision monoculars it took about an hour to clear the store. They had just exited when DJ and Dave rolled up in a nearly new remote broadcast vehicle.

  DJ got out of the van and said, “Is it clear?”

  “It sure is. Say, Dave, do you think you can get the generator cranked up, so we can get some light inside?”

  “Sure thing, can you spare some of your troops to provide security while I get it up and running?”

  “Can do, Jim, help the man out.”

  “Really, just one man. How about getting a couple more out here to help him?”

  Cindy looked straight-faced at Dave and said, “Others, what others?”

  DJ and Dave both took on a look of near panic when DJ asked, “Cindy, just how many men do you have in this militia of yours?”

  “Oh, that,” smiled Cindy, “that would be four, for right now, but your broadcasts will bring in many others.”

  “WHAT?” snapped DJ, “only four? I think we’d better meet them before we go any further.”

  “Oh, sure,” said Cindy, “Dave, my name is Cindy Sharpe, my friend here is Jim Mason, and this is DJ Foote. Okay, introductions are over, let’s get to work.”

  “What? No, wait! Do you mean that your militia is just you and Mason?”

  Cindy smiled and said, “Of course not, there’s the two of you. Okay, DJ, seriously now, consider this, are you better off here, or stuck back in your studio with little food or water?”

  DJ thought for a second, while his surprise and horror began to subside and reality set in. “Yeah, well, here, I suppose, but how can we hold this huge store with just us?”

  “My friend,” said Cindy, “it will be difficult to impossible for us to survive unless you get off your ass and get that radio up and running. Right now, there are many Arizonans willing to fight. They only need to know that we are here and that we intend to fight back. So, the sooner you get to work, the sooner we’ll grow this force and take our town back.”

  DJ thought for another second and said, “Dave, get that genny up and running, now. We’ve got a show to get out.”

  5 April 2118, Dawn

  Clifton Rd NE Fl 5, Atlanta, GA 30322

  The two Mags from the Biomeyer Rehab Center took shelter the previous night in one of the nearby buildings. They had hoped to spend the night in relative safety. Both Mags lamented that they had none of the essentials to build a fire. There was simply no way for either of them to understand how to use the cigarette lighter that lay on the counter just inches away from their chosen spot to rest.

  Some form of ancestral memory caused the Mags to awaken at dawn, on 5 April. Both were ravenous and needed food.

  They left the security of their previous night and began hunting for something edible. Both Mags carried a fist-sized rock in the hope that they might be able to kill some small animal with a fastball.

  The sun was just peeking over the horizon when Warren spotted a rabbit just twenty feet ahead. The silly rabbit sat frozen in the hope that these new animals would not notice him.

  Warren and Kim both froze in place before taking aim and throwing their stones. They were close, but the rabbit was spooked by the sudden arm movements of his assailants.

  The Mags began grunting and complaining about their missed chance at something to eat. Once their hissy fit was finished, they continued to the east. In only a few minutes the two Mags came across another rabbit. Kim cocked his head and for several seconds looked at what would hopefully become his breakfast.

  He motioned for Warren to remain where he stood. Kim then slowly backed up a few steps before easing around to the rabbit’s left flank. The rabbit remained perfectly still but kept his main attention on Warren. This time only Kim threw his rock while Warren looked on. The stone hit the rabbit in the neck, breaking it. Both Mags then charged up to their kill and enjoyed a bloody breakfast.

  Mags could become tacticians on some level.

  The two Mags were still far from sated but were pleased to have something in their stomachs. They continued their easterly movement but saw nothing edible. Nothing, until they came upon a cave with a large opening. Both Mags sniffed the air and discovered the scent of a dead wild hog. Following their noses, they soon saw the carcass that was just inside the opening.

  They immediately went into stealth mode to make sure that this kill had not been made by a Cave Bear or Sabre Tooth. Smelling the air only produced two scents; the hog, and the same strange scent they experienced yesterday morning in that first cave.

  Slowly the two Mags approached the hog. The movement of a remote camera went unnoticed by them. Finally, both Mags slipped into the cave’s opening, which slammed shut behind them, and a blue gas filled the cave which put them to sleep.

  The Mags had no memory of the five-story drop of the elevator to the secured Level 5 chamber. The CDC had its first Mags for study.

  5 April 2118, 2000 hours

  Cheyenne Mountain

  Colorado Springs, CO

  Simon Ward was informed that President Holcomb was in his quarters with his wife and two children. He directed the Head of the President’s Secret Service Detail to inform Holcomb that he needed to speak with The Boss, now. I’ll be in the Presidential Briefing Room.

  “Yes, sir,” said Arlen Winthrop, I’ll speak with him now.”

  Once he arrived in the Briefing Room, Simon placed a call to General Hank Morse and suggested that he might want to attend the meeting with Holcomb.

  Morse was in his office when the call came through. He agreed and immediately made his way to the Briefing Room.

  There was a computer tech available twenty-four-seven f
or just these quick meetings. The COS directed him to display the fastest route from Moundsville, West Virginia to Atlanta.

  He also directed the Duty Officer to contact Fort Benning to prepare sufficient helicopters to comfortably transport seven people to the CDC.

  As the three most powerful men in the world entered the room, they shook hands before seating themselves at the end of the table closest to the wall-mounted one-hundred-inch computer screen.

  Both the President and General Morse immediately recognized the highlighted route from Moundsville to Atlanta.

  The COS then briefed the two men on the telephone conversation with Doctor Deen at the CDC. He did, however, leave out the discussion on Presidential Directives. When he completed his briefing the President turned to General Morse and asked, “Hank, do you think we can intercept this Professor Abraham and his team? The quicker we get that data to Deen, well, I’m sure you understand the need for speed.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Morse, “I don’t think we’ll see much traffic on the roads right now, so, yes, sir, I think we have a good chance of an interception.” He then picked up the phone to the Duty Officer (DO) and directed him to get the Benning Air Ops on the line.

  The connection was immediate as Benning was standing by for orders. Following the General’s guidance, Hank placed a call to Colonel Tom Merritt.

  “Colonel Merritt, sir, how may I be of assistance to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs?”

  “Tom, before I tell you what I have for you, President Holcomb has a message. Are you sitting down?” smiled General Morse.

  “Yes, sir, of course, please put him through.”

  “General Merritt?” said the President with a grin.

  “Yes, sir, but it’s Colonel, not General.”

  “Tom, are you suggesting that I don’t know to whom I am speaking? I said, General because as of this moment you are promoted to the rank of Major General.”

  Tom was thunderstruck with the news. He said, “Mr. President, I, I don’t know what to say, er, thank you, sir.”

  “General, I am truly sorry that your promotion could not be made into a grand affair, but I’m sure you understand that things are a bit in flux right now. I suggest you go to the PX and get some two-star pins. Congratulations General, you are now, to the best of our knowledge the highest-ranking officer on the surface. Here’s General Morse.”