Rise & Walk (Book 2): Pathogen (27 page)

“Nothing went right today.” He said shaking his head.  “I should’ve had a better plan.”

“You got me here; that worked right.” She said.

Tony steadied himself and broke the embrace to turn away from her.

“Yeah, one thing worked.” He said looking out over towards the munitions factory.   Suddenly, Nikki took his hand and pulled him towards the ladder.

“Come with me.  I want to show you something.” She said.

Forty-One

Veronica was led into Lance’s office where she saw the woman from the helicopter typing at a laptop on the desk.  The soldier was polite and motioned for Veronica to have a seat.

“Mr. Richardson’s assistant will be with you in a moment.” The soldier said.

The woman seated behind the desk stopped typing suddenly and glared hard at the man; she spoke with a stern voice.

“Soldier, I need a weapon.” The woman said.  Veronica tensed.

“Ma’am?” Asked the man.

“I almost walked straight into one of those things today.  I want a weapon.  A handgun will do, and a belt with a couple of extra magazines.” She ordered.  Veronica saw the indecision in the Mercenary’s face. 

“Your team is outfitted with a standard Aries resupply package.  You have extra gear.” She said and rose to her feet.  She approached the confused man and spoke firmly.  “Now run to the helicopter, don’t stop for a smoke, don’t chat with the boys, and bring me what I asked for.”  She turned and picked up a pack of cigarettes.

“Yes ma’am.” The soldier almost saluted, dropped his hand, and turned quickly out the door.  Alexandra looked to Veronica and lit a cigarette.

“My name is Alexandra Devereaux.  I’m not really an assistant to Mr. Richardson; I just play one during the apocalypse.   I’m here because the situation demands it; Mr. Richardson demands it.”  She sat down and took a drag off the cigarette.  She looked out the window and added.

“And I wish I wasn’t.”  She seemed to trail off.

“I know what you mean.” Veronica said.

“They’re digging graves for Lance and that old lady in the back.” Alexandra said staring blankly out the open balcony window.

Veronica did her best to remain calm.  She felt closed in; a bit claustrophobic with the knowledge that they’d found Lance’s body.  She had to play the role again; to feign ignorance about his demise.

“A grave for Lance? Was he… changed?” She asked.

Alexandra, in an almost distracted manner, shook her head and exhaled smoke while speaking. “No, there wasn’t much left of him.”  Her voice was thick with cigarette smoke.  The room was becoming hazy.

“I’m sorry.” Veronica said and lowered her eyes fully aware of the state his remains must have been in when found.

“I didn’t really know the guy, but the old man was pretty upset.”  She said and took another drag. “You’ll have to excuse me, but this is the first cigarette I’ve had since this morning.”  Alexandra said motioning with her smoking hand.  Veronica nodded trying not to let the wafting smoke bother her.  She was glad that the woman was distracted by her nicotine fix.

“Did you find Wanda or anyone else?”  Veronica asked.  Alexandra shook her head.

“No.  Nobody; just a pile of those damned things.”

The laptop beeped and Alexandra leaned forward in her seat.  She flicked her cigarette towards the balcony and hit a few keys on the laptop.  Speakers hummed to life and Veronica heard a man’s voice.

“Alexandra?  How did you get through on this channel?” The voice said.

“I’ve got D-O-D ident-codes.  Under normal circumstances, I’d be scared to death to use them; but I have something for you.”  She said.  She motioned for Veronica to join her.

“Veronica Emmons, this is Doctor Mitch Martin.  He’s an Epidemiologist with the Centers for Disease Control.”

Veronica saw a man in a lab coat looking confused at her through the monitor. 

“Hello Doctor.” Veronica said blinking at the sting of lingering cigarette smoke.

“Alex, we’re kinda busy right now.” The doctor said quietly while ducking close to his camera.

“Ms. Emmons has something important to tell you.”

“Fine, just make it brief.” He said.  Alexandra leaned back and reached for her pack of cigarettes, allowing Veronica the full camera frame.

“We had a subject, an elderly woman with heart failure reanimate without infection.” Veronica said.  The doctor froze as the color fell from his skin.

“Alex.  Is this a secure line?” He questioned curtly.

“Yeah, point-to-point military encryption,” she said leaning forward.  “Why?”

“I can’t talk about what you just told me.  It’s been classified Top-Secret.”  He whispered.  The doctor looked back over his shoulder on both sides.  Even through the camera Veronica could see that his forehead was beginning to perspire.

“We got orders about four hours ago restricting all outgoing information.  There are goons from Homeland or some other agency here keeping the Atlanta facility buttoned up.”  He said as perspiration continued to appear on his face.

“Communications are on lock-down right now.  The only reason you got through is probably because they thought you were calling from Defense.”

“Why are they doing this?” Veronica asked.

“Trying to avoid a panic perhaps?  But it’s the wrong way to do it.” He said.  Then he suddenly straightened up in his seat.  He looked about and smiled.  He leaned back in to speak.

“Do you still have the body?”  Veronica leaned down and nodded. He continued. “Okay, get a hold of Doctor Franklin Rose at Stanford.  They were secure as of five hours ago.  Tell him what’s going on.  He can send a chopper for the body, run his own tests, and make an independent announcement.”

Alexandra began writing down the name.

“The pathogen’s gone airborne hasn’t it?” Veronica asked while nodding.  The doctor’s face froze.

“Good luck, and don’t call back here.” He said and terminated the connection.

Alexandra easily contacted the research facility at Stanford and made arrangements with Doctor Rose’s assistant to collect the body.  Alexandra excused herself to report to Richardson on the situation.  Veronica used Lance’s video camera to record a message for the Stanford medical team after the recording she made earlier.  She detailed what she knew of the woman’s heart condition and how she had died, including the unusually long duration before awakening and suggested that they look for evidence of pathogen in the lungs.  At the end she added a caution that some people wanted to keep this information secret.  With that she placed the camera in a Zip-lock bag with a small note that said; ‘Important: Watch Video’.

Veronica found the Medic rinsing blood, bits of skull, and brain matter off the driveway.  His face was solemn as the murky pink flotsam was driven into a nearby flowerbed.  There was a body bag on the cement, set away from the Medic’s rinsing.  Veronica nodded to the man who nodded back slowly.  She took a deep breath and proceeded hesitantly towards the body bag.  She kneeled down and looked at the bag.  It appeared far too large for the old woman’s frail body.  Veronica swallowed and placed her hand on the zipper.  Her arm felt as weak and useless as if she had slept on it all night.  Her hand trembled and refused to grasp the zipper.  The thought that the poor old woman was inside this bag, like so much refuse to be cast out, was too much for Veronica.  She felt a hand on her shoulder and almost fell as she turned.

“Don’t open that.” The medic said quietly, “You really don’t want to.”

Veronica wiped a tear from her eye and stood up.  Her side ached but not as much as her spirit.  She gestured with the camera.

“A medical team is coming for the body. This has to go with her.  It’s my notes on her condition.”

“I’ll include it.” He said nodding, “I’ll watch over her until they come.”

“Mind if I stay for a while?” She asked, handing the man the camera.  He took it and bowed his head as he left her.

Veronica looked down on the small shape inside the thick liquid-proof bag and apologized in her mind to the old woman for not being able to do more.  It was then that she found the words for a silent prayer wishing Margret McCormack Godspeed to her rest.

Forty-Two

The high school gymnasium was like many others that Tony had seen as a junior-varsity wrestler; high ceilings, hardwood floors, large bleachers lining the walls.  But the mats on the floor were not for competition, they were now makeshift bedding for refugees seeking shelter from the horrors outside.  The gym bustled with activity in one corner where a few lunch tables had been set up.  A cheerful group of survivors seemed out of place to Tony given the current situation, crowded around the area.  Nikki led him by the hand towards the tables and once they arrived, the group parted to reveal a woman sitting at the bench breast feeding an infant.  Tony lifted his eyebrows in unconscious surprise at the sight.

“Everybody, this is Tony Sanchez.” Nikki said, “Tony, this is the baby’s mother, Elizabeth.

Tony’s surprised look remained frozen on his face as the woman stood and rushed over with her infant still hungrily attached to her breast.  She threw her free arm around his back and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you,” She cried, “Thank you for saving my little girl.” She kissed him again as he relaxed his surprise and began to smile.

“How?” was all he could manage to say.  Nikki pulled him by the arm.

“When everything happened her family brought her here while the husband went to the hospital.” Nikki explained quietly, “He never made it back.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever see my baby again.” The woman cried, “But you saved her.” Her tone ended with a joyous note. 

“We just found her; it was really the nurse who took care of your daughter.”  Tony shrugged.

The woman sat back down and only then Tony realized that the nurse was sitting right next to the mother.  She smiled at Tony while reaching over to take the child while the mother closed her shirt.

“You saved me too, you all did.” The nurse said.

Tony was starting to feel uncomfortable from all the gratitude not to mention the eyes of the others in the room watching him.  He attempted to change the subject.

“So, what’s her name?” he asked.

“We were going to name her Sabina, but I think that should be her middle name.” The mother said smiling, “What was your mother’s name?” she asked Tony.

“Oh... no, that’s not something you want to do.” Tony said shaking his head with a reluctant smile while backing up a step.  The nurse handed the baby back to the mother who stood and approached Tony while gently rocking the child.

“Well how about your Grandmother’s name?” the mother asked.  Tony shook his head.

“No, I’m not even sure how to spell it.” Tony said attempting a joke.  His humor failing, an idea struck him that dropped his smile in an instant.  He stared at the floor for a moment and suddenly, the answer was clear.

“Margaret,” he said looking up, “Please name her Margaret.  She was a nice lady.”

“Margaret,” the mother nodded and then said the name to the infant.  The child closed its eyes and seemed to smile.  The mother placed the child to her shoulder and began patting her back to burp the infant.  She sang “Is your name Margaret? Yes it is.” quietly as she patted the child.

Nikki led Tony back out from the gym and into a hallway until they were alone.

“See, some good things happened today.” Nikki said still holding his hand.

“Yeah” he nodded running a hand over his hair, “Thanks.”

“If you hadn’t gone after that kid, she’d still be in there.” She said.

“Well, you helped too.” He said.

Nikki moved in front of Tony and took his other hand while looking up at him.  Her blonde hair swept back from her face as a cool breeze blew through the hallway, her green eyes flashed with determined focus giving Tony butterflies in his stomach.

“Are you okay?”  She asked.

“Yeah, better.” He nodded.

“Let’s stay focused on what we gotta do.” Nikki said looking him directly in the eye.  “We don’t have the luxury of distractions.  We have people out there who need us.”  She squeezed his hands and nodded seeking his agreement.  Tony smiled, completely defenseless before her.

“My little Bad-ass,” he whispered with equal parts of pride and affection.  He took a breath as she let go of one hand and began to walk, pulling him gently along.

“We’re gonna have to figure out a plan to help Veronica.” Tony said.

“And a contingency.” Nikki agreed.

“And then a back up for the contingency?” Tony said nodding. 

“Well, you know,” Nikki added, “Plans change.”

Tony smiled, and wondered just what the hell Mason was planning.

*****

Jack Mason clenched his left hand on the steering wheel, while his right held on to the ignition.  Breathing deeply with sweat beginning to build on his forehead, he scowled through the windshield.  If he left now, he might get into Berkeley around midnight.  Ever since coming down the mountain, Jack had been preoccupied with worry for his parents.  Tony could probably find his way home on his own, once he came to his senses.  But there was Veronica to worry about.  He had no idea what a Gunship full of soldiers might do to her.  Mason couldn’t live with himself if he just up and left now.  He took his hand from the ignition and hid the keys under the floor mat.  Mason threw open his door and sprinted across Overlook road past the outer gate to the Richardson Estate.  He saw the body of a recently put-down ghoul splayed out on its back in front of the gate.  Mason pulled his duffle bag up towards his body and leapt over the corpse.  He crouched with the landing and turned to quickly examine the wound on the body.

“Well, what happened to you?” he whispered to the corpse. “Malcolm, is it?” he said noticing the nametag.  The blasted out portion of its head was peppered with small wounds around the edges.  Mason recognized the damage as the work of a shotgun.

“You must’ve met my friend Veronica,” Mason said, “keep an eye out for me, Pal.”

He turned back towards the line of fencing and followed it upwards while hugging the slope.  He soon had to take a semi-prone position on the ground and drag himself sideways until he could see the driveway to the guest-house.  His position behind the fence left him almost one-hundred yards away from where he hoped Veronica would be.  The slope on which he lay allowed him to keep his head level with the driveway and keep a watch through the bars of the fence.  He opened his duffle bag and produced two medium sized towels and a bottle of ammonium.  Mason poured the ammonium cleaner over the towels soaking them in the solution.  He then draped the towels over his heels, hoping that the smell might mask his own scent from any wandering ghouls.  His task was going to take a while and he’d rather not have any interruptions.  Mason then removed his combat knife from his harness and began quietly digging at the earth underneath the iron bars of the fence. 

*****

Alexandra caught Richardson and Denkinger on their way across the vast lawn to the make-shift gravesite.  She wore her pistol on a belt fastened tightly around her waist.  It was a nine-millimeter Beretta model 92, an older weapon with a grip that was a little thicker than she’d have liked.  The thicker grip accommodated more ammunition in a staggered magazine.  Alexandra had fired one before so she felt comfortable with it.  After the day’s events, she had determined never to be unarmed again.  There was much more to fear then just the infected outside the estate.  Richardson and his mercenaries could not be trusted.  Alexandra would continue to play along for now, until she could find a way out.   She noticed the big soldier’s eyes dart to her weapon.  His iron-hard gaze gave her the creeps but her blood went cold when he brought his hand to the trigger of his sub-machine gun.  The old man was speaking as she approached.

“Have him do it tonight; I want to know what she knows.” Richardson said.  Denkinger acknowledged with a grunt, never taking his eyes off Alexandra.

“Sir, I have an urgent request from the CDC.”  She said.

“What is it?” Fatigue was apparent in his posture.

“They would like to examine the old woman’s body.  They’re scrambling a team to be here in a matter of hours.”  She said, still feeling the rasp of Denkinger’s eyes.

“Understandable. Do it.” He said and looked mournfully towards the gravesite.  Alexandra, her nerves frayed by the day’s events, had had enough of Denkinger’s intimidations. He may be a dangerous killer for hire, but she was a high placed company official with the hand that feeds.  It was time to remind him that he was an employee.

“Do you have a problem soldier?”  She barked while turning her head to look him directly in the eye.  He lifted his eyes to hers almost dismissively and spoke.

“Have you been checked out on that weapon?”

Here was the hard part for Alexandra; holding her ground.  Clawing through the ranks of male dominated business she found that she could open strong when fighting for respect, but had a little trouble maintaining the aggression that seemed so natural and plentiful in men.  She knew she couldn’t let herself get side-tracked by answering his question.  It was a dismissive deflection that both questioned her competence while putting himself in control of the conversation; an old rhetorical trick.  It was time to remind him of his place.

“You don’t ask me questions, Soldier!  I’m Senior V.P. of R&D.  I’ve been with the company for twelve years and have personally fired every type of weapon we make ammunition for.  My ability is none of your concern.”  Her voice was a crescendo, aimed directly at the mercenary, her words a series of blows.

It worked; Denkinger neutralized his stare and stood at attention.  She thought using her title was a nice touch to remind the soldier that he was just a grunt in the chain of command.  She looked to her boss and found him looking strangely at her.  His expression was a cipher.  He appeared both sad and amused.

“Excuse me sir,” was all she could think of to say.  She began to depart until stopped by Richardson’s words.

“Denkinger, you are to follow Ms. Devereaux’s orders as if they were my own.”

The soldier snapped his attention to Richardson.  He continued,

“That’s right.  She is to be my second-in-command. Understood?”

Denkinger straightened and nodded once.

“Now go inform your men.” Richardson said and wafted his hand to dismiss the soldier.

“Sir.” Denkinger acknowledged and turned smartly on a heel, tearing a ring in the grass, and walked towards the gravesite.  Alexandra was confused by this sudden promotion.  She almost opened her mouth to speak when he cut her off.

“Are you close to your parents Alexandra?” He asked with a weary voice.

“My mother.  My father; he passed before I was born.”  She said.  Richardson nodded as if he was recalling a fact; his blue eyes were pale and sad.

“I have to bury my son now.” He said with a wavering voice.  He surprised her by reaching his hand out to her.

“Will you come with me?” he asked.  Hiding reluctance and uncertainty, she put her hand in his large palm and walked with him towards the gravesite.  For the first time since she had known Gavin Richardson, he appeared old.  His steps were unsteady on the grass and she even found herself helping him balance once through their clasped hands. 

As they closed the distance to see four of Denkinger’s men lowering the remains of Lance Richardson into the earth, the father regained his balance and composure.  Alexandra saw his jaw firm as his head tilted down to follow his son’s descent.  His voice was low.

“Tomorrow we find who did this to my boy.”