by David Beers
Rigley told Will they were all to die.
Every one of them.
“How long do we wait? How many years? Do we let them out into the world and hope that their heads don’t explode on a public train one day, and that the whole mess doesn’t start again? Or do we just keep them in that room down there forever? Is that your fucking plan?” Anger ripped through her like a flooding river, overtaking banks at each turn. This wasn’t a discussion. This wasn’t something to hash out. All of them, every one of them had to go.
“And what about us?” he asked. “Are we getting the axe too? We were down there.”
Rigley looked to her left, out the open door at the city that looked like some kind of giant, dying bonfire. She had thought of that. Will didn’t even know it, and she certainly wouldn’t tell him right now, but he barely made the cut. She thought about putting him down with the rest, because there was a chance he’d been infected. She didn’t think it was high, but there nonetheless.
If she told him now though, she imagined she would have a bullet in her brain.
“We weren’t down there when the infections started. We left before it learned what we were doing. We're safe.” She didn’t look at him.
“Have you ever killed anyone, Rigley?”
She didn’t answer.
“Don’t sit there fucking silent. Have you ever murdered someone? Face to face.”
She shook her head.
“How do you plan to kill all of them? Not with your hands, I’m assuming.”
Rigley didn’t want to tell him. She didn’t want to even think about it. Because of where it came from, of who did it first in another war, a long time ago.
“Christ Almighty. The room. The air vents. You’re going to gas them, aren’t you?”
She nodded, still staring at the city she just destroyed.
“How old are you?” Will said.
“Twenty-eight.”
Will grabbed her by her arm, the first time he ever touched her. He wasn’t gentle, and she felt the power underneath his grip, felt the truth—he had murdered. His hands had killed even though hers hadn’t. She looked at him, but didn’t pull away. She couldn’t have moved if she wanted.
“Let’s go look at them. The ones you’re going to gas.”
* * *
Rigley had seen them before, but there were more now. A lot more. She didn’t want to ask Will because she was afraid of the answer, of the number he would give her. She didn’t want to even try and count.
“That’s seven hundred men,” he said as they stood shoulder to shoulder, looking through the mirror. “You brought every one of them down here. They knew the risk when they got started, but no one thinks that you survive the mission only to be killed when it’s over. You believe you’re safe until the next mission.”
He didn’t sound angry. His voice was low and he spoke with a knowledge that came from experience.
“I don’t know what they’re thinking about. I doubt any of them have family, but they do have lives. They do have…I don’t fucking know…what it is we have when we leave these shit holes. Seven hundred of the best men in the entire world, the best at doing this job, and all of them ready to go back home. All of them came down here and did what you asked and now they’re ready to leave.”
She needed resolve here. Will was giving her this sob story, was making her look at them, and that was fine. If he wanted her to prove herself by sitting here and listening to him, then fine. She would. She wouldn’t break though; that wasn’t allowed. These men weren’t going home.
“What do you want me to say? That I don’t like it?” She looked over to him and away from the men behind the glass window. “Fine, Will. I don’t like it. I wish they could go, but they can’t, and if you think about it, if you pull yourself away from being one of them, you’ll see it too.”
Will didn’t look over at her.
Minutes passed with neither speaking.
“No, you’re probably right,” he said. “The risk of them somehow being infected is huge. Uncontrollable once they disperse.” His voice was still low, almost reverent. “That’s not why I brought you here, to convince you otherwise. We’re all just a line of defense. That line can’t turn into the offense.”
Will stepped away from her and walked to his right. He went to the door that let them into this hidden observatory. “Come on,” he said, looking back at her as he opened it.
“Where are we going?” she said from her spot at the window.
“I want you to see why I brought you down here.”
Rigley didn’t want to go with him. His eyes said she didn’t have a choice though. His body held an edge that looked as sharp as any blade.
She didn’t drop her eyes as she walked to him. She followed him through the door and out into the hallway. He went left and she walked two or three feet behind him.
Thirty seconds later they stood in front of the doors to the chamber that held the seven hundred possible infections.
“What are we doing, Will?” Rigley said.
He moved to his right just a bit, revealing the switch on the wall. She hadn’t seen it before because she had only walked around the observatory. She had never led men in here.
“That right there opens this door. It’s the only door to the place, where we marched each one of those poor souls through. When it locks, there’s nothing that can open it short of an explosion. That switch is the only thing that’s going to open and close the door. These Bolivians, they love their prisons, and I suppose before Sherman decided to march through, they were upping their technology. It doesn’t matter.” He turned slightly so that he was looking at the door. There was a tiny window at the top, which showed the inside, though not a wide view of it. “You’ve never killed anyone, Rigley. So what I’m going to do here is open the door. I’m going to tell all of those men what you plan to do.” He pointed through the window, looking back at Rigley. “Most likely, they’re going to charge and try to get out.”
He pulled the gun holstered on his waist, grabbing it by the barrel and handing the trigger end to Rigley.
“Here. I’m not closing the door until you shoot one of them. If you don’t, then they’re coming out.”
Rigley didn’t take the gun. “You’re out of your goddamn mind.”
“Maybe, but I’m still going to do it. You better take the gun. You just need to kill one and I’ll hit this switch again, then they’re all locked up.”
Rigley didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Her eyes focused on the gun in front of her as she realized how serious this had become. Before, sitting in her office, she spoke of killing. Now this gun, its whole business was killing. And Will spoke the truth; he was going to open that door and if she didn’t shoot someone, they would flood out.
“What if I shoot you instead, and then close it myself?” She asked, her eyes flicking up to his.
“That’s fine. But you’re killing someone with your own hand today.” The gun didn’t waver at all.
She watched as he reached behind him and flipped the switch upward. Rigley heard the airtight chamber release inside the wall, and watched as the door opened up in one swift movement. Will stepped in front of the door, still holding the gun out to Rigley, away from the eyes of anyone inside the room.
“Listen up!” he shouted. “Orders have come down. Everyone here is at risk of being infected, and because of that, you’re not going to be able to leave this country. You’ve all been scheduled for elimination.”
Rigley’s heart thumped against her chest as if made of steel instead of flesh. She thought she felt her ribs vibrating from its strength. This was happening. This wasn’t some possibility, but reality.
She couldn’t see inside the room from where she stood, but she heard the rumbling inside. Shouting. Men moving.
Will looked back at her. “I’d say you have about thirty seconds.”
His hand wasn’t shaking, though hers were.
“Twenty five. They’re coming
now.” He stepped back and she saw he wasn’t lying. Ten men walked toward the door, all of them looking like hulking gods compared to Rigley.
If she didn’t act, it was all over. Her career and thus her life, because there wasn’t anything to go back to in America besides this job.
She grabbed the gun, stepping into the doorway.
Rigley saw them in all their deadly glory. One hundred men marching straight for her, and such a great number behind them that she didn’t want to look.
The first man, that’s who she raised the gun at—the one maybe a foot in front of the others, and maybe twelve feet from her when she leveled the gun at him.
He stopped and the others behind him did as well, but she knew instinctively that it wouldn’t last. That already their minds were calculating with rapid speed that one bullet might stop one man, but there were too many of them.
She sighted the gun and watched as the leader stuck his hand out. His mouth was slightly open and she saw in his eyes what his lips wouldn’t say. Don’t shoot. I’m one of you. Don’t shoot.
Those around him moved, not walking any longer, but rushing.
Rigley didn’t look at anyone else, ignoring their coming onslaught, and focused on the man still standing there, still pleading.
She pulled the trigger and the man didn’t move, his hand still faced her, palm out, still pleading—except his eyes no longer pled, because blood from the hole in his forehead leaked over them. He collapsed. The door in front of Rigley closed, the air-lock tightening inside the walls. The men collided with the door, screaming, pounding on it. Spit spewed from their mouths onto the small window.
Will reached for the gun and pulled it from her hand.
“There,” he said. “Now we can gas them if you’d like.”
* * *
“Rigley Plasken?”
She heard the voice over the phone and couldn’t believe anyone sounded so happy. The world she lived in didn’t allow for happiness like that.
“Yes,” she said, holding her desk phone to her ear.
“This is Kenneth Marks. We met briefly at the beginning of this, though I was in a bit of a hurry and didn’t introduce myself. I set you and Will up together.”
“Yes, sir. I remember.”
“Oh, no need to call me sir!” The man laughed. “I’m not in the military and neither are you.”
Rigley didn’t say anything, didn’t even feel awkward about her silence or inability to think of how to respond. She stared across her empty office at the white wall on the other side.
“So how have things turned out down there?”
“We’re leaving momentarily,” she said.
“Who is we?”
“Will and myself.”
“That’s it?” he said. His voice sounded like some kind of kid’s television show theme song. Up and down, but always happy.
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s just great, Rigley. I was worried about what we would do with the extras; especially after I heard what was going on with the foreign entity spreading. Will, though, are you sure he’s safe?”
Rigley blinked. This was the longest conversation she’d had with anyone since pulling the trigger. Will had taken the gun and walked off down the hall, holstering it as he went. Rigley stood there for ten minutes staring at the men banging against the door. Her hands didn’t move to open it, nor did they move to wipe away the tears streaming down her face—
“Rigley?”
—That was two days ago. She called in one last strike yesterday to bomb the building containing the bodies. She wouldn’t risk some kind of secondary contamination even though the men were dead.
She could have left last night, but instead sat in this office and watched the fire die down over ten hours of night. She hadn’t slept since she pulled the trigger. She was supposed to leave today, within the hour actually, but she didn’t know how to pull herself out of the chair. Before this man’s call, it was the most important question on her mind.
“Rigley, are you there?” the song came over the phone.
“I’m sorry—what did you ask?”
“Will…” the song slowed down, taking on an ominous tone. “Is he safe to bring back, do you think?”
“Yes, sir. I believe he is. He wasn’t in any of the quarantined areas once the infection began adapting.” Her voice sounded dead next to his. She sounded like someone had pulled her from a crypt and put a phone to her head.
“You sure?”
“No. But I’m not sure I’m clean either.”
“Ah!” The man laughed in what was the most good-hearted roar Rigley thought she had ever heard. “That’s good, right there. That is gooooood!” After a few seconds, he calmed down. “Alright, I’ll take it. Both of you are fine and can come home. I’ve been watching you for a while Rigley; that’s why you were picked for this job. I wanted to see what you could do, because you’ve had some considerable success in your former role, even if you were looked over a bit. I consider myself a pretty good judge of talent, and I’d like to offer you a permanent job based on your performance down there.”
Rigley let the words permeate into her brain, listening intently and hardly hearing them at the same time. How does someone offer a job based on what just happened down here? How could this man be so goddamn happy?
“Sure,” she said. What did it matter? Home or here or wherever this man sent her, it would all be the same.
“That’s good to hear, Rigley. I’m really glad to have you on the team. You’re heading home today?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why don’t you take the week off and report to DC next Monday?” he said.
“Sure.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you soon! Bye now!” The line went dead without waiting on any response from her.
Rigley sat staring at the wall for another two hours. She didn’t realize she missed her plane. Night fell before she looked away from the wall. She turned back out into the ruined city, but she didn’t see that anymore, either. All she saw was the man with his hand out, asking her not to do it. Asking her to let him live for just a little longer. That’s all he wanted. Another few minutes.
Rigley left Bolivia a week later. When she finally left, the capital was completely deserted.
84
Present Day
The woods blazed.
Morena knew what the temperature was around her, though she didn’t feel it. The men that had tried to run were all dead now, their bodies burning as the trees fell around them. Morena’s children had halted their eruptions and subsequent destruction of the planet. They snaked out now in long, strong lines, digging into the ground like roots, though looking similar to man-made pipes as they lay across the ground. They would stretch on for some time, Morena knew.
She wanted to leave, but she couldn’t yet. She had to stay here, over this hole that revealed the core deep beneath. She had looked down in it for quite sometime, remembering back to Bynimian and comparing the colors of the two cores. They were different, but she thought in time this one would move to the uniform color of Bynimian’s.
Would she and Briten walk over this spot as they had on Bynimian? Would they reminisce on the past and look forward to the future?
Not yet. Focus here, first. You must make sure there is a place for him to return to.
She would be able to move from this place soon, but she had to be sure that it wouldn’t be threatened. She saw the auras rising from the core, every color she could imagine, slowly seeping up. Her children birthing into this world. She was the only Bynimian to see something like this, since the beginning. She kept reminding herself of it, kept trying to take it in for the glory that it was instead of always trying to move onward, onward, onward.
Purples and blues and greens, all different shades of each floated up from the orange core. They would move out into this world and from there they would coalesce and life would be born. She didn’t need to follow the auras to understand where they we
re going, she felt them as if she floated with them.
She was waiting on another color though. One that wasn’t her children, but their protector.
Then she could move.
Morena stared into the pit beneath, waiting on some hint that it had arrived. She would be the protector until it did, and perhaps The Makers did that on purpose (of course they did), giving her responsibility from the very moment of birth.
She saw it though. Finally. A white cloud, unlike the auras which moved with a purpose, but this spreading more like a mindless mist.
“Thank you,” she said, not entirely sure if she was talking to the cloud or The Makers, but only knowing she was grateful that it arrived. It would spread now, out in front of the auras so that nothing would harm them.
It was time for her to move.
* * *
Will and Andrew stood outside of the hotel room. The rumble had ended, thank God, but he thought that only because he was outside Grayson’s immediate vicinity. He imagined if he went back there, he would find the ground still shaking. Still, it was a small blessing to be away from it.
None of that really mattered though, not to Will, not right now. The world could rumble wherever it wanted, but Will stood in front of Rigley Plasken’s hotel room and when he entered it, his world would change yet again.
“You going to knock on it?” Andrew asked.
“I don’t want to.” It was the first time he could remember showing any of himself to those under him. His feelings didn’t matter in anything they did, and so he said nothing of them. Except for now. His feelings didn’t matter here anymore than they did before, but there was no reason to hold them in.
Andrew said nothing.
“When we go through here, we’re sacrificing ourselves,” Will whispered. He didn’t turn around to look at the man he spoke to, only stared at the dark, wooden door. “I have to go in, but you don’t…How old are you?”
“Thirty-four.”
“You can still walk away. I’ll tell them you died in the woods. I don’t know if they’ll look, but you’ll have a running chance.”
