by Emma Castle
Caroline struck. Lincoln’s lessons paid off. She kicked out in a martial arts move that would have made Lincoln proud and knocked the gun from his hand. It hit the floor and slid far out of reach. Then she grabbed her own gun from her hip in a move she’d practiced a hundred times until she could do it without thinking. Just because she believed in hope for all mankind, it didn’t make her an idiot. She would hear these men out, but she wasn’t going to do that by giving up a safety advantage.
“Don’t fucking move,” she growled, aiming the gun at the man’s head. Lincoln had said never aim for the chest on anyone who looks military. They might be wearing protective Kevlar. A head shot at close range was easier to pull off.
“Easy.” The man wasn’t smiling anymore. “I just want to talk. No one is going to hurt you or the kid.”
“After that little greeting of yours? Yeah, right.” She scowled at him. Every protective instinct she had seemed to have tripled with Ellie nearby. Her hands didn’t even tremble as she held the gun, and she knew they wouldn’t shake if she pulled the trigger.
“We are better than we think we are,” the man said. “This is what we are fighting for, the nobility inside all of us, the purity of our purpose, to save each other.” He repeated her words from her broadcast back to her, the ones spoken into the satellite radio. “You’re Caroline Kelly.”
“I… Yes. I am.”
“We found you.” He was still smiling. “I can’t believe it. We’ve been on your trail for three days. We were in Kansas City,” he explained, still keeping his arms in the air in surrender.
“We? There’s more of you?”
“Three. We left from Fort Riley in Kansas. We were headed back to Fort Benning in Georgia when we heard you on the radio. I’m Sergeant Miles Jackson, Army Ranger, at your service, ma’am.” He snapped to attention and saluted her.
She stared at him, still too afraid to lower the gun. “I’m Caroline, but you already know that. This is my niece, Ellie. Where are your men, Sergeant?”
“Miles, please,” he corrected, still grinning. His smile seemed less threatening now, but she still didn’t trust him. Now he reminded her of a golden retriever, with his happy smile, boyish good looks, and blond hair. The military demeanor had vanished.
“They’re scouting the area. We saw your vehicle pass ours on the highway and hoped it was you, so we tailed you to this area.”
“My dog… Have you seen him?” She prayed they hadn’t done anything to Kirby. She might still shoot this man if he had.
“Dog? I didn’t see” Kirby leaped through the open door, startling her as he skidded to a stop in front of Caroline. Lincoln was on his heels, gun raised.
“Down on the ground!” Lincoln bellowed.
“Lincoln, wait!” She tried to step between the two men, but Miles instantly blocked her from danger. He glared at Lincoln.
“Don’t hurt her,” Miles said to Lincoln.
Lincoln glared back at Miles. “She’s not going to be hurt. She’s my woman.”
Miles relaxed slightly and glanced her. “He’s with you?”
She nodded. “Everyone calm down. Lincoln, Sergeant Jackson was looking for me. He heard me on the radio. He said he and his friends were headed to Fort Benning.”
Lincoln kept his gun raised as he watched Miles. “You’re not alone?”
“Nope, he’s not,” another man said as two armed men stepped through the doorway of the restaurant, crushing broken glass between their boots as they came up behind Lincoln. They both aimed their guns at Lincoln.
“We found her.” Miles nodded toward Caroline.
“Sergeant, tell your men to back off and lower their weapons. Now. Lincoln will hurt them if they don’t,” Caroline said.
“Lincoln?” one of the men by the door said. He was an attractive black man with a sternness about his lips and eyes. “That you, Atwood?”
Lincoln’s hand stayed firm on the gun. “Holt?” He kept his eyes fixed on Miles and Caroline.
“You made it out of Omaha after all?” The man Lincoln called Holt lowered his gun, and the second man followed suit, albeit a little slower.
“Omaha was boring as fuck.” Lincoln laughed and lowered his gun. He shook Holt’s hand before pulling him in for a hug.
“So now you’ve gone domestic? Woman, baby, family dog?”
Kirby seemed to sense that the danger had passed and was now tentatively waving his tail and looking between the four men.
“They’re my unit,” Lincoln assured him. “But you could say I’m starting to settle.” Caroline blinked. She’d never seen Lincoln so calm or playful before. He was almost a stranger to her, not that she minded the change.
“Caroline, come over here. You’ve got to meet Julian. Julian Holt, this is Caroline Kelly.” Julian bowed like a gentleman and smiled broadly.
“Lincoln, this is Sergeant Miles Jackson and Lieutenant Jason Huang.” The Asian man who was the third in their party nodded in greeting. “Airborne Rangers.”
“So you’re Caroline. We’ve been listening to you every night for the last week. Been trying to track you down,” Julian said.
“Really?” Caroline picked up Ellie’s carrier and move closer to Lincoln, not out of fear, just nerves. She felt outnumbered by all these military men, regardless of how nice they might be.
“Yeah, you’re famous. We’ve run into some survivors on the roads. All of them are headed to Atlanta. They want to help.” Jason held out a hand to shake hers. “It’s a real honor to meet you, ma’am.”
Her heart fluttered with joy and hope. “People are really going? How many have you seen?” She couldn’t help but wonder why she and Lincoln hadn’t seen anyone themselves, but perhaps it was because he’d been keeping them on smaller highways, avoiding places he worried scavengers might be lurking in wait for innocent travelers.
“We’ve seen maybe two hundred or so in the last six days,” Jason said. “Probably more out there. We had a ton of extra radios, so we been passing them to anyone we can and telling them to listen for you. We managed to organize a couple of caravans out of the survivors so they had safety in numbers while heading south to the CDC.”
“Why didn’t you go straight to Atlanta?” Lincoln asked. “They could probably use the help.”
“We didn’t know you were with her. We were hoping to offer a military escort, but looks like you’ve got it covered.” Miles chuckled.
Lincoln met Holt’s gaze. “We can still use your help. We don’t know what lies between us and Atlanta. If all those people heard her broadcast, I fear some lowlifes might smell an opportunity.”
“I hear that. We’d be glad to tag along,” Julian confirmed. “You need help with supplies?” He looked at the baby carrier with curiosity. “You actually have a baby with you?”
“Yes, we do,” Caroline admitted and faced Ellie toward the men. “This is my niece, Ellie.”
“Cute kid.” Julian shot an amused look at Lincoln. “Nice to see you playing daddy.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Lincoln snapped in a mocking tone. Kirby bounced around, only knowing there were more people around to play with, and barked as everyone moved back out to the street.
“Julian, Huang, check the mall for baby supplies. Jackson, you’re with me. We’ll get food and gas,” Lincoln ordered. Caroline realized that Lincoln must have outranked all of them. Or maybe it wasn’t about military rank, but because he had been with her longer. She honestly had no idea, but watching them made her think of nature documentaries about wolf packs. Lincoln was clearly the alpha.
She carried Ellie out to the car, and Kirby stuck with her. She removed the baby from the seat and held her, letting her twine her tiny fists in Caroline’s hair as she watched the weak spring sun stretch the shadows of lampposts and the occasional abandoned car over the parking lot.
People were listening…to her. A girl from Missouri who had once worked in internet advertising. Hundreds of people were on the way, ready to help each other, al
l because she had tried to remind them what it meant to keep hope alive.
She stroked Ellie’s pale blonde hair and breathed in the child’s clean scent. This was what she was fighting for. Ellie’s future. These days of darkness, of shadows, fear and death… They had to end. The legacy of humanity was not going to be extinction, not on her watch. She knew what she would say tonight. While the CDC worked on the blood, she was going to get the power back on. After that she would find a way to reestablish law and order and find a way to assign people new jobs based on their skill sets so they could all work together to rebuild. She just prayed everyone would be willing to listen.
In just two days, Lincoln and Caroline reached the outskirts of Atlanta. Julian, Miles, and Jason were on their tail in the armored Humvee they’d taken from Fort Riley. Lincoln felt the hope that Caroline had created in him grow even stronger. He had assumed Julian was dead like all the rest when they had divided up before he’d accompanied Adam and Whitaker to Omaha. But Julian was immune. Ninety-five of a hundred people died, Julian had said, but still that was five men or women the virus hadn’t been able to take down, for every ninety-five who crashed and bled out. That meant there were a hell of a lot of survivors out there they needed to find and help.
“We’re close now,” Lincoln said.
Caroline was watching the window, silent and focused. Ellie and Kirby and even the chickens were asleep. Last night, he and Caroline had slept without any bad dreams, knowing that others now watched over them.
“I hope Erica Kennedy is still okay. We haven’t heard from her except that first time,” she said.
“I know.” He hadn’t wanted to worry Caroline about that, but it was possible the CDC had been compromised or that men who wanted access to a building with power had taken over. It had been risky to announce that the Centers for Disease Control had a backup power source in their building.
Lincoln turned down CDC Parkway and then hit the brakes when he saw the building and what was in front of it. A tall glass building created a shadow over the parking lot, which was full of hundreds of vehicles. A small town seemed to have popped up in front of the building.
He started to drive a little slower. “Holy shit.”
“They came,” Caroline whispered.
“Yeah, they did. You helped make this happen, Caroline,” Lincoln said, completely in awe of his woman and what she had done.
“There has to be more out there. Think of all those people who don’t have satellite radios. God, Lincoln, we have to get the power back on and the cell towers…maybe we can use the emergency broadcast system…”
“Easy, honey, we’ll find a way. One step at a time.” He cupped her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. They would have to see what the situation was before he’d let Caroline go running across the US trying to save the world. It was still a wilderness out there, and it would be a long time before it was safe. But this was a start.
A group of armed men stopped their vehicles before they could reach the makeshift village. A man in a sheriff’s uniform stood at the front of the armed group. He looked to be in his midfifties, but he was fit, and Lincoln would bet anything he’d be a bear in a fight.
Lincoln stopped the car. “Stay here. I’ll talk with him. If it starts to look like it’s going south, get in the driver’s seat and get Ellie out of here.”
“But” Caroline opened her tempting lips.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine, but I have to plan for every possibility. Do it for Ellie.” He waited until she answered with a nod, and then he walked over to the sheriff and his men.
“Welcome to Atlanta,” the sheriff said. “We are running a safe camp here, so if you have a mind for trouble, you can go back to where you came from.” He rested his hand close to his gun, and the men flanking him all eyed Lincoln with open distrust.
“I want no trouble. I’m Major Lincoln Atwood. My girlfriend and I need to see Dr. Erica Kennedy, the interim CDC director.” He couldn’t help but wonder if Caroline heard him from inside the car.
“Is that so? What for? There’s no vaccine yet,” the sheriff pointed out.
“I know. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? To all give blood samples? I am immune, and so is Caroline.” He jerked his head toward the SUV.
“Caroline?” The sheriff’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean Caroline Kelly?” The sheriff was staring at her now with a look of wonder, like she was a Hollywood celebrity, and her name rippled through the men behind him like a wildfire.
“Yes.” Lincoln finally understood.
These people came here to help, which he had expected, but he had not thought about the fact that Caroline might become something more, something bigger than herself every time she talked. In delivering her messages of hope, she had become humanity’s beacon in their darkest hour, a voice that spoke to something deeper than any current of fear or self-interest. She spoke to a person’s soul. Just like she had done for him, she had done for everyone here.
“Could we meet her?” a man behind the sheriff asked, his face bright with eagerness.
“Sure.” Lincoln looked over his shoulder at the SUV and waved for Caroline to come over. She retrieved Ellie from the car before she came to stand at Lincoln’s side.
“You’re a mom?” the sheriff asked, bending over to look at Ellie.
“She’s my niece. My sister and her husband didn’t make it.” Caroline set Ellie down and held out her hand. “I’m Caroline”
“I heard.” The sheriff enveloped her hand in both of his, almost hugging it. “I’m Pete Andrews, the sheriff of this little unofficial camp.”
“Hi.” Caroline smiled at him. “You guys heard me on the radio?”
Pete nodded. “We did. You…” He cleared his throat and removed his hat, holding it in his hands respectfully. “You’ve helped a lot of people, Ms. Kelly. Me among them.” He looked to Lincoln briefly. “I was one minute away from calling it quits, ma’am. Then I heard you, like the voice of an angel.” The group of men behind Pete were nodding in agreement.
“I…wow, I had no idea.” Caroline turned bright red and leaned instinctively against Lincoln. He instantly curled an arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer. He was so damn proud of her that he was almost shaking. He had to remind himself why they were here.
“Is Dr. Erica Kennedy here?” he asked the sheriff again. “We haven’t heard from her in almost a week. We’re worried something might have happened to her.”
“She’s inside. She’s fine. She’s been overloaded with all the samples. We have over two thousand people here in the area who came to give blood.”
“Two thousand?” Lincoln stuttered over the numbers.
“A little more than that, but yeah. We’ve only been here two days, but we’ve managed to organize a small tent town. We’re working next to move people into the nearby housing divisions for long-term residences.” Pete grinned. “Come on, let’s get you inside to see Dr. Kennedy.”
Lincoln and Caroline followed the sheriff inside. Lincoln noted that their escort had remained behind to keep watch over Kirby and the cars. Then they headed for the glass building. He was too afraid to believe in good news, but he so desperately wanted to believe they had a fighting chance.
Please… God…if now was ever a time to answer the prayers of a sinner like me…
16
Excerpt from the private journal of Dr. Erica Kennedy, interim director of the CDC:
November 29 - I feel like I am chasing a ghost. Everywhere I turn in these wet markets I see places where the virus could linger and grow. Stagnant pools of water, the droppings of birds mingling with pigs. The sharp claws of monkeys who bite and scratch anyone who gets too close to their cages. The filth and the mix of animals is everywhere, and I feel the seeds of mankind’s destruction being sown and brewing like a deadly apocalyptic storm upon the horizon.
I’ve taken dozens of samples and found no trace of the virus as of yet. Where is it hiding if not in plain sight? This morn
ing I received an urgent call to visit an apartment, one I suspect our previous field agent visited. But when I arrived, no one was there to let me in. I used an old spare hotel key card to pick the lock of the squalid residence. I entered with caution, wearing a mask and two layers of gloves. I kept my sleeves and pants taped closed. It is not my best improvised protection, but it is all I’ve had time to arrange.
The home was quiet; the silence was like a tomb as I entered. It was dark and dusty, with the smell of death, that sharp, pungent scent that makes every instinct inside me scream out to run away. The deeper I moved into the residence, the heavier the smell became.
“Hello?” I called out in both English and Mandarin. No answer. I walked into the next room, a storage room, and froze. Hundreds of cages were piled up on top of each other, a veritable menagerie. Each creature inside was dead. A lifeless crab monkey stared blindly at me with milky-white glassy eyes rimmed red. Its body was coiled tight, as if whatever had killed it made every muscle seize up. Its tiny clawed paws were curled into fists, and its face was uncharacteristically stoic. No death grimace, no silent scream. Like Marburg or Ebola, whatever this virus was, it killed parts of the brain, liquefying the tissue until the creature lost control of its facial expressions entirely. But there was something different about this virus. It did not leave the bodies to melt and decay. No, this monkey’s body was clearly starting to harden, to mummify.
What on earth was this thing? I wanted to take samples, but this was a hot room, one that was brimming with hundreds of millions of virus strands. It was possibly even airborne. The thought strangled me, and I rushed from the room, trying to resist the urge to rip my mask from my face to breathe easier.
Something grabbed me, and I screamed as a man with bloodshot eyes shouted at me in Mandarin.
