Daniel moved quietly back inside and locked the door. He hurried back down to the security room. He was anxious to see what the two men were doing. He hoped that they didn’t try to climb up the portico that he had just left; he wasn’t sure if the second floor doors and windows were as secure as those in the first and ground floors.
In the security room, he swiveled his composite video feed to focus in on the main entrance. The man named Billy was marching out onto the lawn, probably to get a better shot at Daniel, who he assumed to be hiding on the balcony. The other man lay on the ground; his skin looked especially pale in the security lighting. Billy was moving out of the circle of light around the front entrance. Daniel switched to night vision, but the light from the entrance washed out the picture. He flipped another toggle and brought up the infrared, he could see the brightly colored outlines of the men. The wounded man lay motionless, a dark green puddle forming around him and turning light blue on the edges as the blood cooled in the night air. Daniel panned back to see what the other man, Billy, was doing. Flashes of light were erupting from the rifle the man carried, the arcs of light that indicated the bullets were rising above the camera feed, just as Daniel had suspected. What he hadn’t expected was the small, multicolored light that he could see in the distance.
He pushed forward on the joystick and moved past the insane gunman toward the light. The mass of red, blue, and green grew larger as the image approached, but it was hard to make out what the image was. Daniel flipped back to night vision and saw the image of a Hummer, parked on the White House lawn. The engine was still warm, but that wasn’t what Daniel had seen from the front entrance. He moved the picture closer to the vehicle and managed to get a view through the front windshield. In the back of the Hummer, a gag in her mouth, her hands bound behind her, was a woman. Her eyes were open as she tried to see what was happening in the distance.
Those crazed men have captured a woman, Daniel thought. It would be just his luck that the only people the alien virus didn’t kill would be insane criminals. Now he had a big decision to make. He could lie low and hope the men would leave, but that would mean leaving the woman in the hands of two obvious lunatics. He knew he couldn’t do that, it wasn’t right and he could never live with himself if he just sat back and did nothing. He would have to get outside and try to take the shooter, Billy, down somehow. He ran back upstairs and looked in the closet-sized armory again. There were rifles, some with scopes. He only hoped that they were zeroed in and ready for action. He checked to make sure the clip was loaded; it took longer than he had hoped it would, and he could hear the man outside continuing to shoot at the entrance and balcony of the White House. Finally, after familiarizing himself with the gun, he made sure his pistols were both on safety, then tucked them into the waistband of his pants. The guns felt heavy, but he wanted all the fire power he could get.
He ran through the West Wing and out along the porch that faced the Rose Garden. He moved quickly into the cover of the large trees that lined that circular drive. Once he could see out into the darkness of the expansive lawn, he got down on his stomach and waited for the crazed gunman to fire again, waiting to utilize the man’s muzzle flashes to locate and take aim at his antagonist. After several moments without sight or sound of Billy, Daniel began to wonder if the man had somehow gotten into White House. Or perhaps the madman had seen him and was even now cautiously stalking him like a lion moving stealthily closer to a gazelle on the African plains. Daniel could feel every hair on his body standing rigidly to attention, his guts felt like water and he was shaking all over. He was about to head back inside, thinking he could lock himself in the security office and search the White House with the cameras. Just before he made his move, gun shots rang out from twenty or thirty yards in front of him. He could see fire flashing out in the direction of the White House and the sound of bullets pinging off the reinforced doors and windows.
Daniel steadied himself and took a deep breath as he looked through his rifle’s scope. He thumbed off the safety latch and wrapped his finger around the trigger. The thought went through his mind that he was pointing a loaded rifle at a human being. Could he really kill another person when so many had died already? He also thought of the girl in the car; so much was happening that he just couldn’t understand.
Then the shots rang out again and without a thought he pulled the trigger. It all happened so fast; it was as if he were sitting in the security room watching it all on one of the monitors. A burst of shots popped from the end of his rifle, a small string of fireworks. There was a muffled scream and then all was silent. Then the fear returned, like a sudden downpour of rain, drenching him in cold shivers, his skin crawling, tears spilling forth from his eyes and his stomach convulsing. He wasn’t sure if he had killed the man named Billy and he had no real way of knowing, short of returning to the security room. But at the moment, he was in shock. He couldn’t move and didn’t really know if he wanted to. The best thing he could do was to wait until the sun came up.
It wasn’t long until shadowy objects started to appear in the darkness. As the sky brightened and the stars faded away, Daniel’s stomach began to settle; the shakes had stopped and he felt like he could actually do something. He just wasn’t sure what the best move was at this point. He decided to stay where he was for the time being, the dew had long since soaked through his clothes, but the abnormally warm weather was keeping him from being uncomfortably cold. He thought of the woman in the Hummer, she must be suffering terribly from fear and the bindings that her captors had placed on her. He wanted to go to her, but if the gunman Billy was still alive, he was surely making his way to the vehicle, where he could get help. He had no chance of gaining entrance to the White House. The predawn faded into a warm spring morning with the sun turning the sky into a colorful masterpiece that he would remember for many months. He watched the colors stretch and brighten and finally fade, then he looked through the rifle’s scope.
At the main entrance to the White House, a man lay crumpled on the ground. A little further out, on the perfectly manicured lawn, there was another crumpled mound. Daniel watched the man for several moments and saw no movement, not even any sign that the man was breathing. It was now or never, so he gathered his courage around him like a heavy quilt on a cold winter morning. He rose slowly to his feet and made his way toward the man. He gripped the rifle tightly, but kept his finger off the trigger. He was still afraid of the way he had responded to the sudden gunshots earlier. He approached the man as cautiously as possible, but it was a wasted exercise. He had shot the man named Billy at least twice in the chest. He was dead and although it was terrible sight, Daniel breathed a sigh of relief. It made him sad to think that these two men were the only other people Daniel had seen alive for several days, now they were both dead. It seemed a terrible waste.
Suddenly, he remembered the woman in the Hummer. He turned and ran to the large, black vehicle. The doors were locked and Daniel didn’t want to return to the dead men and search them for the keys. He looked through the windows; the woman had fallen asleep in the back amid more guns and camping supplies. He tapped on the window and the woman jumped like a compressed spring. She cringed back in fear, but Daniel waved his hands and spoke loudly so she could hear him inside the Hummer.
“Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you. Everything is going to be okay now. Can you unlock the door?”
The woman shook her head vigorously.
“Okay, I’m going to break the glass and get you out of there.”
He raised the butt of the rifle and hit the window with it. It bounced off harmlessly. He frowned, a little embarrassed, and tried again. This time he hit the glass very hard, it shattered with a crash. He was a little relieved that he didn’t fail to break the glass again. He reached into the Hummer and flipped the power locks. There was a thump and the locks popped up. He opened the back door, but the woman was cringing as far away as she could get.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Daniel
said. “My name is Daniel Brickman, and I’m living in the White House. Those men who brought you here are both dead.”
At the news that her captors were dead, the woman began to sob hysterically.
“I’m sorry,” he said, a little unnerved by her emotions. “At least let me untie you.”
She looked uncertain, but finally she moved slowly toward him.
“Good, here, let me put my gun down.” He turned and leaned the rifle against the Hummer. When he turned back, the woman was close to the open door. He reached toward her slowly. She flinched, but didn’t move away. He pulled the dirty rag that was tied around her mouth down and untied it. She coughed and took several deep breaths.
“Would you like me to untie you?”
She nodded and turned her back to him. Her shirt was bunched under her arms and pulled up a little, revealing the skin of her back. There were large, black bruises that made Daniel’s stomach churn uneasily. He untied the rags and pulled them loose so that the woman could move her arms freely. She moved her arms slowly back around until they were in front of her, the movement was obviously painful.
“Like I said, I’ve been living in the White House for the past few days. The president’s gone, everyone left was dead when I found them. But there is food inside, probably some medicine if you’re hurt. There is plenty of room if you want to join me.”
A look of defiance and fear flashed in the woman’s eyes. Daniel realized the worst had happened to this woman and felt sorry for her. She had dark hair that seemed naturally curly, but it was matted and filthy. Her clothes were dirty and she smelled of sweat and urine. She wore cargo pants and what had once been a trendy sweater, but it was now torn and so soiled it was ruined. She had large, dark eyes, and her skin was tanned. She wasn’t beautiful, but had a nice face, although it was besmirched with dirt and fear and shock. Daniel couldn’t tell how old she was, and she had yet to talk. But he hoped deeply that she would join him, that she wouldn’t be forever ruined by the abuse of her captors.
“Okay, I didn’t mean to imply anything when I offered for you to stay with me. There’s lots of room, obviously. I’ve been staying in the Lincoln Bedroom, but there are lots of places and you could be alone if you want.” He swallowed a large lump that was in his throat and forced himself to continue. “Or you can leave. I hope you won’t, but I’ll help you, give you supplies, whatever I can, okay? It’s up to you.”
The woman looked at him for a moment, then looked away. Soon her shoulders were shaking with quiet sobs. Daniel instinctively started to put his arm around her but then realized that would be a mistake.
“I’ll give you some time to think it over,” he said. Then he walked back to the only unlocked door of the White House and went inside. He went to a bathroom and splashed water on his face. He realized for the first time that he had been up all night, and he felt tired. His stomach was hurting and his body ached. He felt as if he could sleep for days, but he knew he needed to get the dead men off the front lawn.
He went around to where the dead soldiers and servicemen were laid out. He fully expected to be hit with the stench of their decaying bodies, but was surprised to find that there was no smell whatsoever. It was strange, they had been outside for over twenty-four hours, had been dead at least forty-eight, but there was no sign of decay at all. Daniel was too tired to really think about it, he just got the laundry cart and headed back out to the front of the White House. He stopped by a small pantry on the way and got some crackers and bottles of water. He wasn’t hungry, but there was no telling how long it had been since the woman had eaten. Just outside the door of the first floor, he found the body of the first man. The man had suffered a wound to his leg and had bled to death on the White House steps. Daniel searched his pockets for keys but found none. Even in death, the man reeked of alcohol. Daniel managed to lift the dead man up and dump him into the laundry cart. It crossed his mind briefly to check for a wallet, just to know the man’s name, but he rejected the idea. He hadn’t learned the names of the soldiers or Secret Service men who had died at their posts. He wouldn’t waste his time learning the name of this drunken criminal who had died on his front stoop.
It was difficult getting the laundry cart down the curved stairway to the front lawn, but Daniel managed. He found the keys to the Hummer in the other man’s front pocket. The keys still had the dealership tags. Daniel dumped the gunman into the cart and then walked back to the Hummer. The woman was still sitting in the back seat, but she was no longer crying.
“I brought you some food,” Daniel said. He held out the bottled water and the woman took it and immediately began drinking it greedily. He held out the crackers and waited until the woman noticed them. She looked at him suspiciously before slowly taking them.
“I also found the keys to the Hummer. I’d like to move it if you don’t mind.” He waited for her to answer, to say anything, but she didn’t. She merely sat in the back seat and clutched the crackers to her chest while she drank the water. “You can have the Hummer if you are set on leaving. Have you made a decision yet?”
The woman was looking down, but she nodded her head slightly. It was the first response he had really gotten from her. He smiled. “Okay, well, I’m just going to drive it over to the driveway. I suspect more people will be coming, and I don’t want the Hummer left on the lawn.”
The woman pulled her legs into the vehicle and Daniel took the liberty of closing her door. Then he climbed in behind the wheel and started the Hummer; it drove smoothly off the lawn and onto the circular drive. He parked it right in front of the main entrance and then opened his door.
“If you’d like to go in, you are more than welcome. There’s a big kitchen inside with lots of food. If you need anything, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He walked wearily to the laundry cart and pushed it back to Rose Garden and through the West Wing corridor. He dumped the two men a short distance from the servicemen he had laid out behind the Carpenter’s Shop. He went back and made sure the doors were locked in the West Wing of the White House. When he finally got back to the front entrance, he found the woman standing in the Diplomatic Reception Room, looking wide eyed at the incredible décor.
“It’s pretty impressive, huh?” Daniel said. “I still can’t believe I’m in the White House, but I can’t think of any better place to be right now. Would you like to go to the kitchen or upstairs to rest?”
The woman looked at him, there was still fear in her eyes, but Daniel felt that she seemed a little more stable than before. She pointed up and he nodded.
“Alright,” he said. He smiled and turned, “Follow me. I think you’ll like the Queen’s Bedroom. It’s private and very nice.”
He led her up the stairs, his knees popping in protest. Once they had finally made it to the second floor, which is actually on the third story of the White House, where the first family lived, or had lived before the virus, Daniel turned to his left and led the woman to a series of rooms across the hall from the Lincoln Bedroom. He opened the door and stepped back. The Queen’s Bedroom was richly decorated with a large, four poster bed, a sitting area and fireplace. There was a sitting room that looked to be fully equipped with the latest television and computer stations. There was also a private bath.
“You can lock the door,” Daniel said. “No one will bother you, I promise.”
A hint of a smile crossed the woman’s face and Daniel felt a wave of relief as his tense body relaxed more than it had in hours.
“Can I get you anything before I get some rest?” he asked her.
She looked down, then back up at him and spoke for the first time. Her voice was ragged and strained, but it sounded like music to Daniel’s ears. He had never been a social person, had never felt that he needed to be in the company of people. But being so alone the last few days had left him hungry for companionship like he had never known before.
“Do you think there might be some clean clothes I could wear?”
Dan
iel smiled. “I don’t know, but I’ll see what I can do. I’ll be back soon.”
The woman returned his smile and said, “I’m Lana.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Lana,” Daniel said.
She nodded and then closed the door. Daniel sighed, wanting nothing more than to lie down and sleep. But before he could do that, he had to search the master bedroom, to see if the first lady had left any of her wardrobe behind.
Chapter 4
Daniel found a sweat suit with the tags still on it in the first lady’s dressing room. He carried it to Lana’s room, along with a pair of socks. He wasn’t sure about undergarments, but he knew he didn’t want to wear anyone else’s underwear, not even if they belonged to the President of the United States. There were also shoes, but he doubted if they would fit Lana. He did find a pair of slippers and added them to his bundle. He carried the clothes to the Queen’s Bedroom and knocked on the door.
“Could you just leave them on the floor?” said a timid voice from inside the room.
“Sure,” Daniel said, too tired to care whether he saw his new roommate or not.
He sat the bundle down and staggered across to the Lincoln Bedroom. The bed was unmade from the night before last. It seemed ages ago to him, but he reasoned it had only been about twenty-four hours since he had climbed from the bed’s luxurious depths. He fell into the bed, his dirty clothes still on, his hands still stained with the blood of the man he had killed. He fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.
The New World Page 3
