Deadlocked 7 (33 page)

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Authors: A.R. Wise

BOOK: Deadlocked 7
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“Because of the end date, and the Noah Initiative, right?” asked Hero.

“That’s right,” said Jerald. “This little bitch and her friends had planned on completing their final transfers just a few years after the original virus was let out. They tried to hide the fact that they already had a cure to the Undying strain, but we knew the truth. That’s when we killed their precious Dawns and forced them to start over.”

“You were responsible for that?” asked Beatrice, angered by the revelation.

“Of course,” said Jerald. “We lied and said that Reagan’s group had been responsible for what happened at the Nederland body factory, but in truth it was us. We killed the Dawns there and used security footage of what Reagan had actually done there to make it seem as if he was responsible for everything. That way you and the rest of the bastards in The Electorate were forced to start a new Dawn program. It takes a long time for the Dawns to come to maturity and be ready for the final transfer. We thought that the immunity that Reagan’s body had would only take a few years to replicate in others, but we were wrong. Eighteen years later and we were still struggling to get the cure.”

“But Reagan would’ve only been immune to the original strain,” said Beatrice.

“It wasn’t the immunity that mattered,” said Jerald. “It was the ability to transfer that immunity to others that we were trying to study. Reagan’s immune system had learned from his son’s, and we were seeing the same traits in some of the people that Reagan had come in contact with. And we knew he had saved Courtland’s test subject, which meant his immune system might be learning to be resistant to the Undying strain.”

“But wait a minute,” said Hero. “Celeste and her friend were immune to the Greys. If they came from your facility,
doesn’t that mean you already have a cure for that?”

“No,” said Jerald. “Their immunity was already in their genetics. We had hoped to be able to use them as a source of discovering a cure, but were never able to. We needed to find someone who’s immune system had been influenced by Reagan, with the hope that they could then pass that on to others.
Our last ditch effort was to try and infect as many of you as possible, and then search for the bodies that didn’t become infected. It wasn’t an ideal way to go about it, but we had to move fast because these fuckers were planning their Noah Initiative in secret. They tried hard to hide it, but they didn’t know we had access to their central database.”

“With the old Electorate’s tablet,” said Beatrice. “How did you get your hands on that? We thought they’d all been destroyed.”

“These damn things are surprisingly sturdy,” said Jerald as he picked up the small tablet on the counter.

“That’s not an original version,” said Beatrice.

“I know,” said Jerald. “This is mine, same as yours. Practically useless, except for playing videos. Right Hero?” He smiled at the man.

“Then how did you control the intercom?” asked Beatrice.

“I had permission from the man in charge,” said Jerald.

“That doesn’t make sense,” said Beatrice. “Who are you saying is in charge?”

“All in due time,” said Jerald. “I’m going to take you to see him right now.”

The pilot of the helicopter came into the cabin. “We’re going to need to get out of here,” the Asian man said as he cradled his helmet under his arm.

“Ben?” asked Hero. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Jerald looked from the pilot to Hero, and then back again. “Oh that’s right, he’s met your brother.”

“Another brother?” asked Hero. “We saw the other pilot. How many fucking brothers does this guy have?”

“We should ask her,” said Jerald as he looked at Beatrice. “She’s part of the group that sent them after me.”

“What?” asked Hero. “I am seriously lost now. What the fuck is going on?”

“The Electorate decided to put a hit out on me when I started giving them trouble. This is just one of the clones they sent after me. They’re part of an older Dawn program, but were turned into weapons. Isn’t that right, Beatrice?”

“We were wondering what happened to them,” said Beatrice, not bothering to deny it.

“I rescued the ones I could,” said Jerald. “They’re fantastic soldiers – best I’ve had. But it takes a while to break down the memory implants they were given.”

“So the Ben I met was sent by you?” Hero asked Beatrice.

Jerald answered for her, “We’re not sure about that. There’s a real one out there somewhere. He’s the one that killed Richard Covington’s first body, and was tested with Courtland’s cure. If we could’ve gotten him, then we might’ve been able to use his immune system to figure out how to cure the new virus as well. Again, it was a long shot, but those were the only shots we had left. Until you, of course.” Jerald smiled at Hero.

“We really need to go,” said the pilot. “This storm looks nasty.”

“All right, enough chit chat,” said Jerald. “Let’s get going. After you,” he motioned for Beatrice to go first.

She did as she was told and then looked back. “Come on, Levon. There’s no need to cause trouble. It won’t do any good.”

“I know,” said Hero as he started to walk behind her. Then he decked Jerald again, spinning the old man nearly in a circle. “I’m not interested in doing any good.”

“You mother fucker!” Jerald scowled and drew his pistol.

“Go ahead and shoot another one of your soldiers,” said Hero as he walked backwards behind Beatrice, taunting Jerald. “See if I give a fuck.”

Jerald straightened his posture and holstered his gun. “We’ll see how tough you are when we get back to the facility.”

“We sure will,” said Hero as he turned and walked out of the cabin.

Chapter Twenty-Seven – Seven Seconds

Two years after the apocalypse

Reagan has helped lead Billy and Hero out of the Nederland facility.

 

“No!” Billy yelled at the camera as Reagan watched them.

Reagan was in the lab, soaked with the chemical that he’d spread around the room. “Listen to me.”

“No!” Billy was furious.

The soldiers in the hall outside of the lab were working hard to break through the iron door. Reagan wasn’t sure how much time he had left. “Listen to me, God damn it!”

Billy and Hero were finally quiet. They had been arguing with him ever since discovering that he’d led them outside of the facility instead of to where he was being held.

“You’ve got to leave me behind.” He had to hurry and speak louder than Billy’s attempted retort. “I can’t go with you because they’re trying to use my blood as a weapon. It’s a long story, and I don’t have time to explain it. All I can say is that if they get what they want, then everyone we’ve worked so hard to save these past couple years are going to die.”

“We’re not leaving without you,” said Billy.

“Like hell you’re not,” said Reagan. “I’ve already locked all the doors you went through on your way out there.”

“You old fucker,” said Hero. “I can’t believe this shit.”

“Guys, listen to me for a minute,” said Reagan, the cacophony of soldiers trying to bust down the door nearly drowning him out. “You know I’m not a sentimental sort of guy, so bear with me here.” He looked over at the unconscious body of Richard Covington, who now looked identical to Reagan’s dead son.
“The day I lost my wife and son, I wanted nothing more than to die with them. In fact, when I met the two of you I was just trying to help save as many people as I could before I died. I figured I was infected, and couldn’t care less.”

The soldiers outside were using a blowtorch now. Reagan could hear the distinctive sound as the torch seared the lock.

“Then you two pains in the asses showed up.” He laughed and sniffed, trying to pretend not to be crying. “What I’m trying to say is that, I thought my family was dead. When I lost Arlene and Jim, I was sure I’d never have another reason to live.”

Hero was already crying, the tears dripping off his cheeks as he paced behind Billy. He was always a softie, something Reagan often chided him for.

“Then you guys came around, and despite my better judgment, I ended up kind of liking you. These past couple years, I know I’ve been tough on you, but I’ve never been prouder of anyone else in my whole life. The men you’ve turned into…” Reagan choked up, and he couldn’t stop from crying. “You’ve made me proud. Damn proud. You gave me a new family, and I love you two like sons.”

“God damn it,” said Hero as he wiped the tears from his cheeks. “I don’t fucking believe this.”

The soldiers had burned their way through the first lock, and part of the door jostled open. The pressurized air in the room whistled out. The soldiers tried to get through, but the door was still stuck and they were forced to start on the second lock.

“You have to do something else for me,” said Reagan.

Billy was trying to be stoic, but a single tear fell down his cheek as he said, “Anything.”

“Go get Laura and those two girls of hers, and you treat her like family. Stay together. No matter what. O
kay? Keep our family together, safe and sound.”

Billy nodded.

Reagan smiled and then took a breath before sighing. “All right, enough of this crying bullshit. If you guys thought I was going out without a fight, then you just didn’t know me that well.” He held up a Zippo and flipped up the top. “I suggest you get as far away from this place as possible, guys.”

“Goodbye,” said Billy as Hero stomped and ranted behind him. “I love you, you old bastard.”

Reagan turned off the tablet and pushed it away.

He took a moment to compose himself, and then picked up one of the bottles of ethyl alcohol that he hadn’t poured out around the room yet. He walked over to the body on the floor that
looked like his dead son.

“Wake up,” said Reagan as he poured the alcohol out onto Covington’s face.

“What?” Richard sputtered as the fumes jolted him awake. “What the hell? What did you do? What the fuck have you done?”

He started to stand, but Reagan shook the finger of one hand as he held the open lighter with the other. “You’ve already lost, Dick.”

“What is this?” Covington smelled his shirt. “Alcohol? Are you insane? I brought you here to help me save people! What are you doing this for?”

“Well, first off, you’re not the Covington I grew up with. You’re some piece of shit clone pretending to be him. Second, even if you were him, I don’t know what makes you think I’d trust you after what you did. My guess is that as soon as you had a cure, you’d
use the new virus as a weapon. I’m not going to let that happen.”

Reagan used his thumb to rotate the wheel of the lighter, grinding the flint slowly.

“Don’t, Charles, please,” said Covington. “Don’t do this.”

“It’s the only choice I’ve got,” said Reagan. “I have to burn so your guys can’t use my body for experiments.”

“Don’t,” said Covington as he tried to crawl away. His hand slipped in a pool of alcohol. “Please no!”

Reagan looked up. “Leave the door open,
Arlene. I’m coming home.”

Covington screamed in pain and terror as the flames ignited. They swept through the room in an instant, flashing even across the ceiling as the alcohol blazed. Reagan had found every accelerant in the lab and had spread it out to make sure everything in the room was consumed. The flames burned blue, filling the room with angelic light as the two men burned together.

The soldiers were able to break into the room, but were met with a surge of flame and the screech of Richard Covington as the fire melted his flesh.

 

*   *   *

 

Early morning, August 25th

Under Denver International Airport

 

Jerald led Beatrice into an airlock. She had asked where they were going several times already, and each time Jerald told her to shut up and wait. The chamber circulated air around them, causing Beatrice’s hair to swirl. Then a green light appeared over the opposite door. The opening started as a circle in the center of the door,
and then the curved blades spun until an entrance was revealed.

The square room beyond was alight with machines. There were multiple televisions, but even more
pieces of medical equipment. A ventilator rose and fell within a glass tube near a seat in the center of the room. The man in the chair turned, and the equipment beside him turned with him. It was as if he were the captain of a submarine or starship, alone in his vessel.

“Hello, Beatrice,” said the horribly burned, disfigured man.

She gasped and instinctually put her hand over her mouth. Then she uttered his name as if it were a forgotten, dangerous curse, “Richard?”

“The one and only.” He flipped a switch on his chair that initiated a series of clicking noises. There were various tubes stuck into him, and they snapped free with each click. He rose from his seat, a wraith of a human, as if a skeleton draped in burned leather had started to walk. “It’s been far too long. We really should try to connect more frequently. Wouldn’t you say?” He laughed, but phlegm choked him and he ended up spitting mucus to the floor at her feet. “We have so much to talk about. But first, to business. Jerald, tell me about the one with the cure. Is it true?”

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