The End Time Saga (Book 2): The Breaking

by Daniel Greene

  Kinnick averted his eyes and sat in silence.

  Jackson stood back up and his footsteps echoed off the walls as he walked. “They came to us for protection, and that’s what they get. Protection. Food. Shelter. It’s the best I can offer the cunty bastards.”

  Kinnick snorted. “You mean the kind of protection where your men have free reign to abuse and take whatever they want? That’s no protection; that is slavery.” He spat on the ground.

  Jackson backhanded him in the face, his eyes wide with rage. Kinnick’s cheek flamed up. Jackson stood upright and straightened his shirt. “They are free. What kind of freedom would they have outside of here? Freedom to be murdered by brigands. Freedom to watch their families be ripped apart by the savages. Freedom to die. Those are the only freedoms they will find out there. But here they will find a form of justice. The men may take small liberties, but what is that price compared to life? What is liberty when the only other offer is death?”

  “It is a dark day for America if this is the freedom we defend. How can you betray us like this?” Kinnick said, staring Jackson in the face.

  Colonel Jackson looked at Kinnick as if he were a dunce. “You just don’t understand, do you? We are on our own. All these men have are their units. Each other. The younger men looked up to Sergeant Banks. Iraq war veteran. His family was in this camp, and now he’s gone. Sergeant Lowry will survive. Can’t talk, a blessing for some, but he will live. This is where you belong. We need fighters like you and your men to fill our ranks. We’ve already enveloped other units. Lost units that have been left behind. They need a home and I give it to them.”

  Kinnick twisted his neck as Jackson circled him like a shark. “We can still find a vaccine for this virus. We don’t have to just survive. We can take the fight to the enemy. But you must let my men and me find this doctor,” Kinnick pleaded.

  “Why do you hold so dearly to such a futile mission tasked to you by a dead institution? Can’t you see their betrayal? They set us up for failure.” He grabbed Kinnick by the collar. “They didn’t let us do what needed to be done. You want to talk about betrayal? Look at your government leaders sitting in bunkers while we are overrun by the dead. Someone should be leading us and taking a stand. Not just for us, but those sorry civilian fuckers out there.” Jackson stared off in the distance. “Like a George Patton or a Stonewall Jackson. Someone should have led us …” Jackson trailed off. He let Kinnick go.

  “It doesn’t matter now, does it? I must fill these big shoes,” Jackson said.

  “We still have a chance. We still have hope if you let me go,” Kinnick said.

  “No, Colonel Kinnick. You must stay here.” His booted steps rang off the the floor and walls as he paced.

  “What drives you, Colonel Kinnick? How can I convince you to stay? Money? Power? Women? God? No, not God. Not for you. Not for us anymore. How could you believe in God at this point?” he said, laughing at the abstract thought. “But all men are driven by something.” Colonel Jackson smiled down at him.

  “I fight for my country, for our country and our people,” Kinnick said softly.

  Jackson slapped him in the back of the head like an idiot and circled in front of Kinnick.

  “No, Colonel. I told you these things no longer exist. The nation-state ideology is gone. Why do you continue to cling to such phantoms of your imagination? You may have been driven by money at some point. But even if you were, that means nothing now. Ammo means something. Food means something. A sturdy fence means the world. But money? Nothing.”

  Colonel Jackson got close to his face. Kinnick could smell alcohol on his breath. Kinnick averted his eyes. He had engaged too much already. If tradition holds true, he will hang us. But an execution by firing squad is a possibility? Bullets are worth more than gold and rope is reusable. Probably hanging.

  Jackson continued to pace, hands clasped behind his back like a general. “You like women, don’t you?” he laughed. “Of course you do,” he said and then was quiet. He eyed Kinnick as if he had known him for a long time.

  Sweat trickled down Kinnick’s back despite the coolness of the dank building basement. This man couldn’t know.

  Colonel Jackson continued his pacing. “We have some women. We will definitely find more. I can even give you the pick of them when we do. We have been taking them in for days. They come out of the woodwork for us. After all, we are the guys with guns.” Jackson grinned again like a banshee, light shining off his bald head. “Never rely on the government because they’re never around when you need them. But we are.”

  “Help me complete my mission,” Kinnick pleaded.

  Colonel Jackson’s mouth snapped shut. “Colonel Kinnick. You are on a fool’s errand for a government that has been extinguished. I am in charge now. Do you understand?”

  Kinnick turned his face away. Maybe it was a fool’s errand. I’m not going to find the doctor. Unless he’s willing to play ball. Compromise everything.

  Colonel Jackson’s hand wrapped around Kinnick’s face, his short, strong, grimy fingers squeezing his cheeks and forcing Kinnick to stare him in the eyes.

  “We can rule this new world. We have good men here. Tough men. You and me will lead them, not some prick sitting in a bunker,” Colonel Jackson said, releasing Kinnick’s face. He straightened his ACUs out. “Now, let’s move forward. Corporal Hayes, bring Ash in,” Colonel Jackson said, giving Kinnick a wink. “She will help smooth over any doubts you might have,” he said.

  A dirty blonde with thick make-up thrown on her face walked in.

  “Ashley will take care of you, Colonel. She is willing, to say the least.”

  Kinnick couldn’t stand the thought of this man wearing his uniform. “Have you no honor?” Kinnick started.

  Ashley smiled at him.

  “Do you think honor has a place left on any corner of this earth?” Colonel Jackson said contemptuously.

  Kinnick fell silent. Maybe he is right.

  “I want you to join my command. I will let you and Ashley get to know each other. I think she will help bring our two parties together,” Colonel Jackson said.

  “Wait,” Kinnick asked. Colonel Jackson stopped as the sultry woman dropped on Kinnick’s lap. He felt her buttocks grind into his leg.

  “I must talk to my men. Help them understand that this is the best option. Some of them may not see the necessity of this defection.”

  “Of course. They can be disposed of quietly so as not to ruffle the others.”

  Kinnick nodded. “You’re going to untie me?” Kinnick said.

  Colonel Jackson opened the door. “Just because I want you to join doesn’t mean I trust you, Colonel,” he said. He stopped with the door halfway open. “Have fun,” he said and with a smile closed the door.

  Kinnick was alone with her.

  She stroked his cheek with smoke-stained fingers. “Finally, we are alone.” she cooed. “I thought you were handsome when I first saw you.”

  Kinnick averted his eyes.

  “What do you like?” she whispered. Her lips tickled his ear, and her breath massaged his neck. Kinnick turned his face away from her yellow, stained teeth. He didn’t want this. He hated this part of him. His wanton need. He could never resist it. Her hand followed the curve of his leg into his crouch. There was no escape.

  When it was over, Colonel Jackson gave him twenty-four hours to recruit his men or they would be executed. This meant that Kinnick had twenty-four hours to escape or they would be killed. His men looked to him when he returned; he could only shake his head. Shame radiated around him like a visible body odor.

  He had always been faithful to his country, but he was never faithful to his wife. He felt like it was a stain that others could see on him like a physical deformity. Women’s flesh made him uncontrollable. Even Ash’s. He had never broken down like that in the field. His infidelity had always come after his deployments, never during. Is it infidelity if I’m all but sure my wife is dead? There had to be a way out of this. H
e sat down in the storage room and contemplated his shame.

  “We have twenty-four hours to join or die,” he mumbled to them. The men sat quiet, digesting his words in silence their eyes falling upon them. He leaned his back against the wall, rubbing his hands together over and over.

  Later that night, Master Sergeant Hunter stood in front of him. Kinnick rose his eyes to meet his.

  “Sir, I got somebody I think you should talk to.”

  “Send them over,” he said indifferent.

  A man of average height approached him. He had a hard look about him, and a beard to match. A long fresh scar ran along the top of his skull. He reminded Kinnick of a special operator, but different.

  “Colonel Kinnick?” the man asked.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Agent Mark Steele, Counterterrorism Division. May I?” he said, gesturing to the concrete wall.

  “Sure.”

  Kinnick racked his brain. Counterterrorism Division. He knew them as covert law enforcement agents. Most spoke highly of them. They also had a reputation of being highly adept gunslingers. Born to fight. Liked to party. Much like Master Sergeant Hunter and his crew, but a little more refined at hiding in plain sight. The man took a seat next to Kinnick.

  “I was talking to Master Sergeant Hunter about my journey here. He told me it was you in the helos that were buzzing us in Pittsburgh. I would like to help your team however I can,” he said, running a hand gingerly along his scar. He pushed on its sides as if he were trying to speed up the healing process.

  “Why are you here?” Kinnick asked.

  “Long story short, Colonel. I was escorting hostages onboard an aircraft from Africa when the infection broke out amongst the passengers. When we landed at McCone, the virus had already struck the District. Our primary protectee was a CDC doctor. Anyway, when we landed, we handed him off and they left us to die on the runway. A group of us made it to Mount Eden. Then we came west, unfortunately running into Colonel Jackson near Pittsburgh,” Steele said.

  Kinnick held his hand up. “Where in Africa were you coming from?” he asked.

  “Kinshasa.” The man continued to run his had along the scar.

  Kinshasa. I sent him there.

  “A protection detail for Dr. Jackowski?” Kinnick said.

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact it was. After Mount Eden was overrun we took the doctor with us. He should have been here along with a member of my CT team and my girlfriend,” Steele said.

  “Are you kidding me? Where did they go? Agent Steele, this is of utter importance.”

  Steele stopped rubbing his scar. “How do you know the doctor?” he asked.

  “I am Under Secretary Kinnick from the Department of State. I planned your mission. My team is looking for Dr. Jackowski. We must find him.”

  Steele’s mouth twisted. “I don’t know where he went. When I got here, the guards beat us and threw us down here. I knew Colonel Jackson wouldn’t keep his word.” Fire flared in Steele’s eyes. “And you sent us into a death trap with no warning. No intelligence. Nothing. Half of my team died in flight,” Steele said, voice rising.

  Sergeant Lewis loomed near Steele. The bigger man waiting to suppress the seated agent. Kinnick motioned him off.

  “Agent Steele, I am sorry for your loss. I truly am. I had no idea of the magnitude of these events. I would not have asked so much of so few, but I need your help again. The fate of our country hangs in the balance,” Kinnick said. It seemed to calm Steele a fraction.

  “Those soldiers that captured you are no longer American soldiers. These men here are but a small remnant of what is left of the U.S. military. We need your help.”

  Steele looked cross, as if Kinnick had cut him off on the highway. “All those bridges in Pittsburgh, that was something I did for the U.S. military. We weren’t supposed to make it. They tossed us in here like criminals. Now, you have the audacity to ask me to help you again?” Steele said.

  Kinnick gave a sad laugh. “I wouldn’t ask you for more if I didn’t think it was the only way. I too have sacrificed. Lost my family, half my men, my colleagues, all but a glimmer of hope. I’m mostly running on fumes. Coming down to the end, but the Pentagon still stands. There’s still some hope. Do you know where that doctor is? Or where he’s headed? I have to know because with or without you we need to find him. Not just our nation, but humanity is at stake,” Kinnick said. He added, “I’m sure the President will be grateful.”

  “Don’t insult me,” Steele spat. “I don’t help for accolades or medals. I did my job because I wanted what’s best for my loved ones and the United States. If they survived out there, I know where they are going. ’Cause it’s up here.” Steele pointed up to his head. “But you have to take me with you.”

  Kinnick smiled for the first time in a while. He liked this man. “Sergeant Lewis has a solution to that problem,” he said.

  Sergeant Lewis looked up from what he was doing with a barbarous grin. “It’s going to take me a few, but I’ll get it,” the sergeant said, his fingers molding putty together.

  Agent Steele stuck out his hand and Kinnick squeezed it. Trust. Or was it understanding?

  “Let’s get to Michigan.”

  STEELE

  Youngstown Airfield, Youngstown, OH

  A single lightbulb dribbled insufficient light on the incarcerated men. It made Steele feel like he was in a Russian gulag. Perhaps we would be better off if we were imprisoned in a far-off snowdrift-covered place with no infected.

  He sat with his back to the wall. The cool concrete chilled him. The other men sat in shadows. He wondered if they still clung to any kind of hope. He still did. Kinnick had given him that flimsy thread that he clung to as if it would blow away. Hope that he might see her again.

  The Pentagon still stood. Gwen would be safe as long as she was with Mauser. As safe as anyone could be. He wished they would have waited, but they must have had their reasons.

  Steele rested his head back on the wall and watched in amazement as Lewis’s meaty fingers intricately worked the explosives. Somehow Kinnick’s soldiers had snuck in a series of military supplies. Steele didn’t want to know how. They were quickly assembling what looked like improvised explosives to blow open the doors.

  “I’m surprised you have all your fingers,” Steele said to Sergeant Lewis.

  The broad-backed soldier grunted. “It’s about patience and attention to detail,” he said, smoothing dough with his fingers. “And a little luck.” He stuck his tongue out as he worked. “How’d you get that scar on your head?” Lewis asked without looking up from his bomb-making.

  “I took a sniper round in West Virginia. I said just a little off the top, but he didn’t listen,” Steele said.

  Lewis laughed a bit. “Well, we’re glad to have you with us. One of my buddies became a CT agent after he left the military.”

  “We get a lot of ex-military. The culture is comparable, a bit more discrete,” Steele said.

  “Maybe when this is all over, I’ll think about joining up with you guys,” Sergeant Lewis said.

  “I’ll put in a good word for you,” Steele said. He doubted that he would ever work as an agent again. The odds of that were slim.

  “There,” Lewis said. He set down his last molded explosive device. “Now, all we have to do is wait.”

  “When do we strike?”

  “Hunter said we will wait until dawn. Hopefully those sand-bagging guards will be passed out.”

  “You didn’t by any chance sneak in any guns?”

  “No, but we’ll get ’em.”

  “Beggars have to be resourceful,” Steele said. He noticed Ahmed across from them, chin held to his chest. He wrung his hands out in front of his body.

  “You’ll have to forgive me, Sergeant Lewis.” Steele crossed the square basement room and sat down next to Ahmed.

  “Stick by me when this thing kicks off. It’s going to get confusing real quick,” he said.

  Ahmed looked up, dark cir
cles of worry rounding his eyes.

  “What chance do I have in a fight against trained soldiers?”

  Steele put a comforting hand on his knee. “I’m not a soldier either, but you don’t need to be a soldier to take it to the bad guys. You’ve stood up to a pack of over a hundred infected with only a baseball bat and now you’re worried about some soldiers with guns?”

  Ahmed cracked out a smile. “That was different. I did that to save Gwen.”

  It was Steele’s turn to smile. “I know you did, and I never got the opportunity to say thanks. She means the world to me.” Steele offered his palm to Ahmed, which he accepted. “And I never had the opportunity to apologize for kicking your ass back at the house,” Steele finished.

  Ahmed chuckled. “I’m pretty sure you got lucky on that one, but no hard feelings. If it means anything, the attack in Fairfax was an accident. Everything happened too fast.”

  Steele shook his head. “I thought you were trying to kill me. Now, I’m pretty sure you’ve been keeping me alive. Let’s try and get some rest. We got a few hours and then we are breaking out of here.”

  Steele leaned his head back on the wall and closed his eyes.

  Five minutes passed before the door opened and a soldier strode in. The lighting wasn’t sufficient, and he thought it may be Sergeant Yates. The captured men stood up.

  “What’s going on?” Steele whispered to Ahmed.

  “I dunno.”

  The man continued to the center of the room, confident and unmolested.

  “Is there a Mark Steele here?” he said, gazing at faces. They had met before. Steele wondered if the man would remember. Steele exchanged a look with Ahmed before standing up to get a vantage point on the captor who called his name.

  “Counterterrorism Agent Mark Steele?” the man said again. Steele put his hands on shoulders, parting the group as he walked through the crowd. He felt like a dead man walking to the gallows. Reaching the edge of the inner circle, he stopped. Faces lambasted him from every side. His accuser turned his reddish coppery beard to face Steele.