by Jeff Olah
He said the only thing that came to mind. “Looks like you guys have things pretty well figured out here.”
Jonah grinned. “It’s a work in progress.”
“The generators, you worried about—”
“No,” Jonah quickly snapped. “Not at all, we only power up the things that are absolutely necessary. And we make runs into town every few days to find more fuel. Like I said, a work in progress.”
Ethan pointed at the center monitor. “Looks like that crowd is growing, but I get the feeling that’s not what you wanted to see me about.”
“Right on both counts, but before we get into all that, there’s something else.”
Ethan turned away from the screens and sat back in the reclining office chair. “Yes?”
“Your friends … how are they getting along here?”
The question—on its surface—seemed innocent enough; however, Ethan knew there was something else. He’d only just met the man less than a day before, but the look of discontent was obvious. He’d seen it many times in last few years in the tough discussions he’d had with his own father.
“They’re all good, just getting settled in, but we’ll be out of your hair tomorrow morning. You won’t even know we were here. We’ll be sure to leave your home exactly the way we found it.”
Jonah exhaled loudly and turned his focus back to the center screen. “You know if nothing else, I was blessed from an early age with the ability to read people. It’s part of what’s kept us safe here and the reason why we don’t just let anyone through the doors. And not for nothin’, but it’s also why I allowed you to come in. You’re a good man, I can tell.”
There was more, but Jonah was holding back.
“And?” Ethan said.
“And, well … I haven’t quite been able to put my finger on it, but there’s something off about your group as a whole.”
“How so?”
“Like I said, I get the sense that you are a good man. But I also know that something isn’t quite right. I’m not asking you for any more than what you’ve already offered, and to be honest I don’t want to know. It’s probably best that we leave it that way.”
Jonah was right. There were things Ethan hadn’t revealed, details about how he and his friends had survived that he’d probably never tell anyone. But these were also things that had little to do with the safety of the people locked inside this mall. And other than the story of how they’d run across Boone and his people, every other word was the truth.
“I’m not sure what it is you think you know about my friends and I, but there isn’t any reason—”
“Ethan, it’s not necessary.” Jonah paused and turned again to the monitor to his left. “You know, actually there is something.”
“What?”
“Something I’d like to show you. I think it may just help you and your friends.”
Ethan turned in his chair and faced the bank of monitors. As he leaned forward to get a better look, Jonah switched off the three screens and then the recording device that sat below the desk.
Standing and moving to the door, Jonah motioned for Ethan to follow. The older man stepped out into the hall, twisted a dial, and as the overhead lights blinked on, he closed the door to the office.
“Follow me,” Jonah said. “We only have sixty seconds.”
“For what?”
“Let’s go.”
Ethan stayed on Jonah’s heels as the surprisingly agile older man moved quickly through the narrow corridor. Left and then right, and then a lengthy straightaway that looked as though there would be no end. Jonah increased his pace as he peered down at his watch and hugged the wall to his right.
“Twenty seconds.”
Ethan stayed quiet.
Another five seconds and Jonah was now jogging. He turned to check on Ethan and then nodded to an opening ahead on the left.
“Let’s go, we’re almost there.”
Moving to the opposite side and with his palm flat against the crème colored wall, Jonah slowed. He paused at the adjoining hall and motioned for Ethan to take the lead.
“Go to top, there’s a door.”
Ethan turned the corner, but was only able to get a brief look into the stairwell before the overhead fluorescent lights flickered and the area fell into darkness. He quickly reached for the railing and started up the stairs, counting as he took each step.
Eighteen and then he was again on level ground. Ethan stopped, pushed back into the wall to his left and waited for Jonah.
“What now?”
“Six feet ahead, there’s a door.”
“Jonah, where are you—”
“It’s just the roof, there’s nothing to worry about.”
In the darkness, Ethan stayed with his back to the wall and gripped the railing. “I’ll give you the honor.” And although he couldn’t see Jonah’s face, he sensed that the older man was fighting the urge to laugh.
Jonah moved by on the opposite wall and then quickly opened the door with a rush of cold air pushing into the narrow hallway. He stood in the threshold urging Ethan forward as streaks of moonlight flooded in, casting ominous shadows down into the stairwell.
“Let’s go,” Jonah said. “I think you’ll find this interesting.”
Out onto the roof, Ethan followed Jonah as the older man hurried to the south end and under a pop-up canopy. Another man—someone Ethan had yet to meet—held a pair of high-powered night vision binoculars to his eyes.
As Ethan stepped out of the driving rain and followed Jonah under the canopy, the second man pulled the binoculars away and pointed out into the lot. “Looks like we should be good. Maybe thirty minutes, maybe a little less.”
Jonah nodded. And as the man began to raise the binoculars back to his face, he said, “Henry, this is Ethan. He and his friends will be with us for the night.”
The man Jonah had introduced as Henry breathed out heavily, switched the binoculars to his left hand, and extended his right.
“I’m Henry, but I mostly live up here, so there isn’t much use in us becoming lifelong friends.”
Ethan regarded the overweight dark-skinned man with a half-smile and after shaking his hand, returned his attention to Jonah. Henry was right, no use in wasting time getting to know one another when he and his friends would be back on the road in less than twelve hours.
“So,” Ethan said, looking from Jonah to Henry and then back to Jonah. “What are we up here for? I’m sure you both have much better things to do.”
Henry handed the binoculars to Ethan, stepped away from the edge of the building, and started back toward the door to the stairs. “Jonah … I’ll be back in five, you okay?”
Jonah didn’t respond. Instead he pointed out toward the end of the parking lot to where a pickup truck drove just ahead of a growing crowd of Feeders. Ethan pulled the binoculars up to his eyes and as he looked upon the crowd, Jonah asked him to focus on the others filling in from the west.
“We have to do this every few days, but it’s effective, and most of the time they don’t come back.”
Ethan moved his focus from the slow moving crowd to the woman seated in the back of the truck. She waved a pair of flashlights from side to side and appeared to be shouting at the horde now numbering in the dozens.
As the truck continued toward the street at the end of the lot, Ethan turned back to Jonah and handed him back the binoculars. “Whatta ya mean they don’t come back?”
Jonah rested his hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “It’s kinda hard to explain without some context. So get some rest tonight, because tomorrow … you and your friends are gonna get a whole lotta context.”
168
Seated across from the six men dressed in black and grey fatigues, and with Marcus Goodwin just over his right shoulder, Dalton buried his head in his tablet and pushed back into his seat. He quickly ran through a systems check and verified he was again synced with Blackmore. With the chopper now airborne and Goodwin barking orders at Nic
holas, he fought to remain focused on the things he could still control.
As the former home of BXF Technologies rapidly faded into the darkening storm, he powered down everything that still drew power. Realizing this would be the last time he or anyone else would ever set foot in this part of the city, there really was no point in the mundane task, but with everything that had taken place since the outbreak, he wanted to be the one to pull the plug.
The massive helicopter banked hard to the north, and as Dalton keyed in the final sequence, he was able to see the last two floors go dark. Goodwin barely noticed as he turned to the window and stared defiantly into the storm.
Climbing into the sky and away from his former life, Dalton also turned his back to the city; however, the images from the first day of the outbreak still played out in his mind like a bad dream. And as much as he tried to forget, nothing would dim the memories of those first few chaotic hours.
He remembered it as if it was earlier that day. Most everyone employed by BXF had run out the doors at the first sign of trouble. The constant flow of news showing the unthinkable atrocities all but assured the rapid evacuation of every high rise within the city. Streets were instantly clogged, and within minutes, the area outside the lobby doors had become one giant parking lot.
Dalton moved through the crowded hall toward the penthouse suite as the elevators and stairwells began filling with those looking to escape. The few that still remained along the upper floors avoided eye contact and spoke quietly into their phones as they rushed out of their offices and hurried toward the exits.
Into Goodwin’s office, Dalton walked to the desk at the center of the room and waited. He watched as Goodwin stood at the windows, staring down at the chaos he was ultimately responsible for creating with what appeared to be a smile forming at the corners of his mouth.
Briefly turning back, Goodwin waved Dalton over. He pointed at the pandemonium sixty floors below and shook his head. In the first few confusing moments, many simply followed the others to their death. Goodwin had compared this to cattle being slaughtered, not a single leader amongst them.
And then there was Harry, the often mocked mid-level manager from personnel, who alone had instigated much of the original frenzy along the twenty-fifth floor. He was the first with any real authority to head out into the halls and alert the staff. Dalton sat with Goodwin and watched from multiple video feeds as the man in the cheap suit disregarded the safety of others in his overly-aggressive retreat from the building.
The second camera positioned in the stairwell just above the first floor substantiated Goodwin’s theory about the man as he stepped over a co-worker who had fallen from the landing above. Harry appeared to look away from those attempting to help as he opened the door to the lobby and let it slam shut behind him.
Before standing and leaving Goodwin’s office, they watched as Harry’s race came to an abrupt end. Darting out into the center of the lobby, Harry now had an unobstructed view of the complete devastation taking place less than thirty feet away.
Taking the private elevator to the first floor, Dalton followed Goodwin out into the lobby amid the shouts and screams of those who had exited the building and now sprinted for their vehicles. Most didn’t make it off the sidewalk, and for those who did, having to witness the abomination the world had become was nearly as bad as becoming one of its victims.
To the right of the bank of elevators and the last to occupy the lobby, Harry stood paralyzed staring back at the doors. He began to sob as he turned and begged Goodwin to help him get back to his family.
“I just want to find them and get somewhere safe, you have to help me.”
“Your beautiful wife, your wonderful kids,” Goodwin said, beginning to growl. “They’re already dead.”
Harry looked to Dalton and then quickly back at Goodwin “What are you talking about, you’re insane.”
Goodwin stepped toward the already shaken man. “You want to be with your family? Good, I say yes, here’s your chance,”
Harry took two steps back and held out his hand. “I’m sorry, I just—”
Catching Harry off guard, Goodwin reached out, pulled the security badge from the lanyard around his neck and tossed it to the floor. “Get out of my building.” With one hand around Harry’s collar, Goodwin dragged him to the twin security doors and shoved him out into the incensed crowd.
Pausing briefly, Goodwin adjusted his tie and turned away from the street.
“Is it ready?”
Dalton had already begun adjusting the building’s security settings from his handheld tablet as Goodwin started for the elevator. “Yes sir, we are live.”
Stepping into the elevator, Goodwin stared back into the lobby, but spoke directly to Dalton. “Lock it down.”
As the elevator doors started to close, Dalton held out his hand. He wanted to give Goodwin the satisfaction of watching it happen. Had he known how the next few weeks would play out, he may have chosen a different strategy, although in the moment, it seemed only slightly inappropriate.
Keying in the sequence, Dalton braced himself against the railing as the lobby began to shake and the floor beneath his feet started to vibrate. As the reinforced steel security doors slowly moved into place, he shifted the tablet to his left hand and turned to watch the blank expression on Goodwin’s face slowly fade into a wide smile.
Dalton felt a cold chill rise up his back as he recalled the last thing he said to Marcus Goodwin that morning. “Sir, the ground level is secured; nothing will enter or exit this structure without your approval.”
The pilot’s voice through the headphones pulled Dalton back to the present as the mounting storm pelted the helicopter. Nicholas Jefferson spoke with an urgency that came through in more than just his words. “Mr. Goodwin sir, we’re going to have to go around this system. It’s much too dense to fly through.”
Covering the headset microphone with his hand, Goodwin turned to Dalton. “What does that do to our timeline?”
Dalton powered on his device and looked at the time. “If it’s centered over the mountain it may cost us thirty minutes, give or take. We won’t know until we’ve reached the apex. Either way, there’s no reason we won’t arrive before the others.”
Turning to the rear, assuring he had Goodwin’s attention, Nicholas motioned toward the enormous cloud cover. “Sir, that’s our window and the rain appears to be coming down at an angle, not to mention the intensity. We’ll be batted around like a ping pong ball.”
Unbuckling himself and moving to the forward cabin with his headphones still intact, Goodwin brought his microphone in close to his mouth. “Nicholas, can you fly this thing? That is your only job, are you able to do it?”
Nicholas didn’t initially respond. Instead he continued to stare straight into the catastrophe they were heading toward.
“Sir, I’m not sure you understand. If we try to—”
“I understand perfectly,” Goodwin said. “Either you fly this thing or you get out right now and I’ll fly it … what’s it going to be? Do I need to do your job, or can you muster the necessary courage to do it yourself?”
Without turning to visually acknowledge this directive, Nicholas checked his instruments and pushed the chopper further into the massive storm. “I’ll get us there sir, you can be sure of it.”
Dalton had seen this look before. Nicholas Jefferson had already decided that he’d rather die than live in this world having to answer each and every day to Marcus Goodwin. Was this his way of ending it all or was this something else? Dalton rested his tablet in his lap and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he prayed. He prayed that whatever happened in the next thirty minutes, he wouldn’t have to suffer.
Decreasing altitude to avoid the most violent section, Nicholas fought to keep the battered helicopter in the sky. And as the eight men in the rear cabin were tossed from side to side, he said, “Brace yourselves, it’s gonna get nasty for a bit. I’ll do what I can, but it’s not go
nna be pretty.”
Pushing himself into the right corner, Goodwin held tight to his tether, pulled his headset off and spoke directly to Dalton. “Is the program for Blackmore operational?”
Dalton held the tablet out for Goodwin to see and began scrolling. “Yes, I tested it remotely before we lifted off. Here it is, fully functional.”
“And team two, have they reported back?”
“Yes, earlier tonight. They’re in position and just waiting for the go ahead.”
“Good, when we arrive I want you to stay put. The others here will take care of any unexpected resistance. Nothing happens until I order it and that obscenely expensive piece of plastic and circuitry doesn’t leave your hands. Understood?”
“Yes sir.”
For a second time in as many minutes, Goodwin began to grin. “He doesn’t know it yet, but Richard Daniels is going to watch his family die on this mountain.”
169
Emma waited at the end of the hall. She stood with her back to the door, looking out from the darkness, wondering why Tom had yet to follow. Dropping her left hand to her side, she gripped the handle and began to twist. The door was unlocked and began to open without her having to apply much pressure. She quickly pushed the door back and stepped away. Without knowing what lay on the other side, her only option was to continue to wait.
“Tom …”
No response.
Keeping her voice contained to the hall, Emma called for him again. “Tom …”
Again nothing.
She took two steps forward, leaned into the wall, and craned her neck forward, attempting to see into the room. “Tom, where are you? This isn’t funny.”
Finally his voice drifted into the hall. It came out evenly and just above a whisper. “Emma, they’re still out there.”
“So, what are we doing?”
“Let’s just give it another minute.”
Bending at the waist, Emma gripped her lower abdomen and gritted her teeth. She was sick of running. She needed at least a few days where she could focus on something other than dying. Anything else. The constant wave of anxiety was beginning to take its toll.
