Rise & Walk (Book 2): Pathogen (8 page)

Jinxy couldn’t bring herself to look down on the front of the building knowing that Duane was out there.  If what they’d heard on the television was true then he would be up and around; a walking corpse.  He was locked behind the front doors, the deadbolt on the bathroom, the boxes she had piled on the attic hatch, and the hatch to the roof and still Jinxy couldn’t help but think of him walking around.  She didn’t think much of the man at the beginning, but after losing her mother, and his small kindnesses, she felt awful for the man.  No one should have to spend eternity like that.

Eight

Fifty miles north of Barstow California on a fifty square mile rectangle of private land stood the Richardson Arms Manufacturing’s Southern California Research and Development facility.  Alexandra Devereaux exited the main research facility and marched her three-inch patent leather pumps the requisite one-hundred feet to the blue line on the pavement signifying the smoking safe area.  She pushed a highlighted strand of auburn hair over the Bluetooth communicator in her left ear and lifted a Camel light to her lips.  The night was quiet and the wind still; only the soft hum of the main building’s ventilation system was heard.  The cigarette crackled as she inhaled the flame.  The smoke was hot and satisfying.  She let out the drag with a stressful sigh and looked to the south.  He would be arriving soon; Gavin Richardson; the old man. She shook her head and took another drag.  Even under the best of circumstances a visit from the Chairman was loathsome to her.

Her facility had been rocked by the events unfolding around the world.  Alexandra had done her best to set an example for her staff by remaining calm through the ordeal.  Many of her staff had decided to depart the facility to be with family members.  Alexandra helped to coordinate their departure and organize transportation in groups for added security.  A number of her scientific, engineering, and security personnel lived on site and stayed on for the safety of the secure facility.  As the last group of three vehicles departed the outer gate, Alexandra was left with some seventy-eight souls on staff under her care.

As of thirty-six hours ago, their directive had changed from research and development on new weapons systems for military applications to one of information gathering.  Richardson had personally called her to order the shift.  He wanted the ‘Skunks’, a term used for the scientists and engineers, to put their creative minds to use digging up any information on this unnatural disaster. 

She had given the staff their directive.  She split them into teams to monitor communications across the globe, theorize on possible strategies for dealing with the problem, and coordinate with any government agencies to keep the flow of information moving.  If the Skunks came up with an idea, she wanted the right agencies to be reachable.  Communication shouldn’t be a problem.  Richardson Arms Manufacturing had access to government and private communications satellites and priority channels on both French and Japanese satellites.  Being one of the world’s largest arms manufacturers had its perks.

What concerned Alexandra was a set of private orders from Richardson.  His son Lance had been unreachable since the initial outbreak.  Contact with the entire town had been lost and Gavin Richardson wanted that contact re-established right away.  Information on Lance had become her personal number-one priority.

In her years at the company she had occasion to meet the old man’s kid twice which left her unimpressed.  In fact it irritated her that Richardson’s brat was placed in charge of the Whisper facility for no merit other than having been born the son of a rich man.  Not that she would have wanted to run the plant herself.  It was just a high capacity manufacturing facility for ammunition; NATO rounds mostly and shotgun shells, nothing interesting.  But it did burn her to read reports on the plant’s performance and know that Lance was careless with his operation; careless or incompetent.  He cost the company money and should have been replaced years ago.  She knew that would never happen; every member on the board knew that Lance was untouchable if only to keep his father happy. But none of that should matter to her.  She wasn’t interested in what was best for RAM.

Alexandra had a personal agenda within Richardson’s company.  Her father, a Senator from California, had been an ally, and then later a rival of Richardson well before she was born.  Her mother had always been less then forthcoming with the details but over the years Alexandra had pieced together a rough idea of their relationship.  For some reason, before her mother left the Senator, he had led a movement to bar RAM from certain government supply contracts, costing Richardson millions.  Less then a month later, and five month before her birth, her father was found dead.  F.B.I. reports and a very thorough Secret Service investigation showed that Senator Bryan McGuire died of an accidental overdose of pain medication while drinking alcohol.  Alexandra’s mother was vague; even elusive with the facts of their marriage but she was firm about one thing, Senator McGuire didn’t like to drink.  Alexandra had studied Richardson since her teens.  She had plotted her infiltration into the company since high school.  It was her mother’s strange paranoia about the past that gave Alexandra an advantage in hiding her identity.  Perhaps fearing for the safety of the late Senator’s daughter, Alexandra’s mother had given her child her maiden name at birth and never named a father on the birth records.  Before college, when her plan was forming, Alexandra had taken her grandmother’s name to insure no official link to her lineage.  Her goal had always been to attain such a position within RAM that she could get a good look at its secrets, its dirty tricks, political payouts, and discover where enough of the bodies were buried that she could damage the company from within.  Even if Richardson wasn’t involved in her father’s death, Alexandra’s mother herself blamed his political attacks on her father for ending their marriage.  Her mother always seemed burdened by guilt when she spoke of the past; guilt for leaving her father before even telling him that he was about to have a child.  As a teen, Alexandra decided that Gavin Richardson was responsible for her parent’s hardships and would pay for hurting her family.

Unfortunately, her goals required her to become a tireless and faithful company employee.  She had been very careful over the past twelve years to not get ahead of herself, not to blow the whistle too early over small bad-business practices.  She was in this for the long haul and wouldn’t go to the newspapers and authorities until she had Richardson in Checkmate.

But now the old man was coming to her bailiwick.  This wouldn’t be another inspection where he would drop by and set the facility on edge for a day while making Alexandra uncomfortable with his praise of her work.  She was good at her job; she knew that.  One didn’t rise to run their own operation in RAM without earning it; unless you were the boss’s kid that is.  And that was the reason for the old man’s visit.  He was going to personally take possession of one of the facility’s UH-60 Blackhawk helicopters to fly north and search for his son.  Alexandra puffed again and let out a frustrated cloud of smoke.  Richardson wanted a fully armed Blackhawk, with its automatic weapons and rocket pods prepared to leave in the morning.
Son of a bitch
!

The Blackhawks were fully outfitted with military hardware on loan from the Army for testing of RAM’s Hades II rocket systems.   They were serious birds and not for private use.  Under normal circumstances the Army would take serious action over such a gross misappropriation of assets, filing charges and assessing penalties, but with the current situation she was sure they’d be too busy to notice.  Ultimately she was the Executive of Record responsible for the aircraft however Richardson was her superior.  She planned to make the case that she relinquished the bird on his orders and add the action to her Whistleblower file as yet another abuse of authority. 

She wasn’t comfortable that he intended to stay the night.  She would rather he just take the Blackhawk and be done with it.  Alexandra detested the man and to be near him made her skin crawl.  She remembered their first meeting and how Richardson took an eerie interest in her.  He began touring her facility personally once or twice a year.  For a short time she feared that his interest was sexual.  The thought of fighting off his advances scared the hell out of her.  There was just something disgusting about such an idea.  She hated his cold blue eyes and how he looked at her as if he was on to her; but he couldn’t be.  Being in his presence made her paranoid that she had overlooked some detail in her cover story.  She had scrubbed her past well and found it easier to maintain her façade as the years went on.  But still, there was something unnerving about the man.

Alexandra saw the lights of the approaching helicopter in the distance.  Her deep blue eyes flashed hatred at the sight then softened as she resolved to play her role.  She took one final drag and crushed the butt with her shoe.  She heaved a determined breath and reviewed her conversation with the old man earlier on the phone.  She believed she was ready for his arrival.  In an effort to maintain her reputation as an over-achiever, she had contacted an ex-boyfriend at the Centers for Disease Control to find out what he knew about the situation.  She would impress the old man with her initiative and gain even more trust in the company.  This was the long game and one day she would see Gavin Edward Richardson pay for his actions.

The Bell jet helicopter descended fast and then slowed in relation to its proximity to the deck.  Alexandra saw the pilot rotate the body of the commercial helicopter so that the side door faced her.  The chopper touched down and its motor slowed.  The door opened and she saw Gavin Richardson duck as he walked out of range of the whirling blades overhead.

Gavin was a tall man whose closely cropped white hair looked out of place with his strong Nordic-trac toned physique.  He was in excellent shape for a man of sixty-eight, almost unnaturally so but according to Alexandra’s studies of the man, his hair had turned white in his thirties.  She wondered just how much stress he had experienced to cause such premature graying.  He straightened his posture when well away from the chopper’s rotor and walked towards Alexandra.  She turned with his arrival and tried to keep pace with his long strides towards the building.

“Has there been any word?” He asked without any kind of greeting.

“No sir. Plant security reported in yesterday that they were securing the facility but we haven’t been able to reestablish contact.”

“Still?”

“Yes sir.  Security there is local with augmentation from town police, not our Aries teams.”

“Yes, Chief Murdoch,” he nodded, “and my son?”

“Nothing, no answer on the facility Sat-phone and the local lines are down,” she said and suddenly she was walking alone.  Alexandra stopped and looked back to Richardson.  She noticed the rumple underneath the left armpit his tailored Brooks Brothers jacket. 
He’s wearing a weapon
.  He looked off in the distance.

“Is everything assembled?” He asked.

“No sir. Your man Denkinger and his team are going to rendezvous at a fueling point tomorrow morning; Colonel Borden’s  barracks.  In light of recent events they’re facing… challenges, getting here.”

“I see. Anything from our sources that hasn’t been reported publicly?” he asked finally meeting her gaze.

“A contact at CDC said preliminary tests on infected subjects reported zero effectiveness of all known antibiotics and anti-virals so far.” She offered, “They believe it is a Pathogen, a biological compound like a virus, bacteria, or prion, but they haven’t had any luck in isolating the cause.”

“My sources say the infected are dead.” He said.

“That’s what I’m hearing as well, but officials are strongly resisting going public for fear of a panic.”

Richardson nodded and began walking again. “Have we heard from Defense?”

“D-O-D’s not taking our calls. We’re monitoring radio traffic.  We can hear plenty of communication between stateside military facilities, various aircraft, and naval vessels but nothing from the Pentagon.”

Richardson stopped, “That’s disconcerting.  They may just be overwhelmed, or all of our contacts are in trouble.  I want a detailed briefing for Denkinger’s team; all the latest from the CDC, military, and Sierra County law enforcement, maps of Whisper, the facility, my property, and surrounding areas.  Send it to his PDA by midnight.  He’ll brief his men in transit.  And get my pilot a meal and somewhere comfortable to sleep.  We’re gonna need him to find my boy”

He began walking again towards the facility; Alexandra struggling to keep up in her high-heels, asked, “We sir?  I’m going with you tomorrow?”

“I’ll need you with us.” His tone bore a finality that chilled Alexandra.

“Yes sir.” she said with less than enthusiasm.  Richardson noticed and turned.

“Is there a problem?”

“I’ll get your pilot billeted right away, sir.” She said and turned to leave.  She walked fast, her high heels clacking on the tarmacadam, until she could turn behind an outbuilding.  Once free from his view, Alexandra Devereaux lit another Camel light and smoked it angrily.  The last place in the world she wanted to be was with an armed Gavin Richardson searching the northwest corner of nowhere for his incompetent child. 
Son of a bitch
!

Nine

The Richardson estate’s outer gate loomed ten feet high.  A polished brass “R” stood watch in the center of the twisted wrought iron.  Small sharp points adorned the elaborate design, serving to discourage those who might wish to attempt climbing the ornate barrier.  Jack brought his truck to a halt nudging the gate with the large chrome plated bumper.  He switched the truck off and sat in silence to get a feel for the area.  Nikki was on her knees in the bed of the truck with her head halfway in the cab’s rear window.  All eyes looked forward up the long dark driveway towards the three story silhouette of a great mansion.  Time passed and the sounds of the evening were becoming clear.  Now that the loud rumble of Jack’s V8 engine had silenced it was as if someone were gently turning up the volume on a soundtrack of nature.  Tony, standing in the bed, scanned the road behind back towards town.  Even in darkness, his headache made him feel like squinting.  He had not seen a single creature since they left the main streets of Whisper about a half-hour ago but he found no comfort in this.  He forced his ears to divide the evening’s sounds.  Somewhere between the subtle metal clicks of the cooling engine and the slight breeze, he heard something disturbing from the direction of town.  He didn’t think that the moans of the undead could carry this far up the hill.  What he sensed seemed below his threshold of hearing, but it made Tony uncomfortable. 
I’m still spooked
, he thought.  He placed his hand on Nikki’s shoulder and crouched down to share the access to the cab provided by the rear window.

Jack, his hand tense while still holding on to the ignition key, ready to engage the motor if need be, peered into the darkness.  He remained motionless while almost expecting the gates to open and pour fourth the hosts of hell, as his Catholic grandmother might have said.  But no clouds parted and no seventh bowl emptied, for the moment, all seemed peaceful in the dark and lonely estate.

“No one’s home” Margaret offered quietly, squeezing Veronica’s hand. 

“Let’s hope so,” said Mason as he opened his door.

The Chevy was tall enough that Tony and Jack could stand on its custom made diamond-plate bumper and reach the top of the wrought–iron fence.   Mason tugged at the vertical bars with both hands, bars that terminated in rather painful looking arrowheads.

“We could winch this open but it wouldn’t be quiet.” Jack said.

“Probably better to keep it intact, if we can hide out here for a while.” Tony said.

“Boost me up,”

“You sure?” Tony asked.

“What? You wanna climb it?” Mason said with unveiled impatience.

Tony looked up at the sharp points.  He could support himself on the crossbar and make it over but he became uncomfortably aware of his extra weight.  Daunted, Tony braced himself against the gate and interlaced his fingers to boost Mason up.

Mason’s heavy boots met the brick driveway with a loud crunch. The steel-toe and reinforced ankles absorbed some of the force but not quietly.  Mason accepted his sword from Tony through the fence without a word and proceeded in a crouch up the long stone driveway.  

Climbing down from the bumper, Tony found Nikki sitting with her back against the far corner of the truck-bed.  She was very quiet and still.  He couldn’t see her face in the dark, only her outline.  He didn’t want to invade her privacy but he also didn’t want to abandon her.  He took a position at the rear of the vehicle next to her but facing the opposite direction down the road.

“I gotta keep a look-out” he explained. 

“Uh-huh” she sniffled.

Tony lifted his left hand over the tailgate.

“Hey, does my hand feel cold to you?” he asked.

“What?”

“My hand, does it feel cold to you?” He said while offering it to her.  Confused, she took his hand.  It was warm and firm.

“No, feels fine.”  She said and noticed that he wasn’t letting go.  He squeezed her hand gently and whispered.

“Everything’s gonna be okay.” Tony drew in close and gave her a half-hug, leaning his cheek on the top of her head.

For a moment she smiled and hoped that he was right. 

Margaret watched the heroic young man disappear up the driveway.  His big friend hopped of the bumper and she felt a tickle in her stomach as the truck bounced back up on its shocks.

“Whoops-a-daisy,” The old woman said with surprise.  She watched Tony move to the back of the vehicle.  “Where do you suppose he’s going?” Margaret whispered.

“He’s just going to keep en eye out for us.” Veronica said.

“I see.”  Margaret said and then pointed towards where Jack had vanished into the night. “Is he your boyfriend, the one who found me?” She asked.

“Who, Jack?” Veronica said, “No, we just met a couple of days ago.”

“I’m sorry, I just thought ...” Margaret said.

“No, we’re not involved.” Veronica said with a smile and looked up towards the driveway. 

“A girl could do a lot worse then a man like that.” Margaret said nudging Veronica. “I owe him my life.”

“I suppose so.” Veronica nodded.

Margaret suddenly had a vision of the ghoulish figure that Jack had saved her from.  What if he hadn’t been there?  What fate would she have met at the bloody claws of that monster?  Or if she had gotten away from the thing and perhaps made it back to her house, would she still be trapped there alone with it banging on her door?  The possibilities swarmed about her and she realized just how lucky she had been.

“The television said that they were biting people, making them sick too.  Is that true?” Margaret asked.

“It’s true.”  Veronica nodded with a frown, “The bites infect the victims.  They die very quickly from the infection, then they come back to bite others.”

“They’re dead?” Margaret gasped.

“Afraid so.  I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

“The television didn’t mention anything about that,” Margaret whispered, “Just that the people were sick.  There must be some mistake.”

“No, we’re pretty sure.” Veronica said, “We’ll know more in time, but right now we have to stay away from the sick people.”

“I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t found me.” Margaret said, her voice wavering, “Thank you for not leaving me back there.”

“Of course Ma’am,” Veronica said, “Who could do a thing like that?”

“You’d be surprised.  One of my own neighbors drove past me as if I wasn’t there.” Margaret said and looked at her lap, “I kept waving and waving but they just ignored me.  It was horrible.” The woman’s voice wavered.

“You’re with us now,” Veronica said taking the old woman’s hand, “and let me tell you, those men outside; they could never abandon anyone.  I’ve seen it.  It’s not in their character to leave anyone in trouble.”  Margaret looked up and nodded.

“They don’t seem the type.” Margaret said.

“You can count on them.” Veronica said, “They won’t let you down.”

Margaret breathed deep and let out a sigh of relief.  She marveled at how quickly fortunes can change.  Just more then an hour ago she was at her wits end with fright.  Now she had been taken in by kind strangers.  She thanked her lucky stars that there were still some decent people left in the world.

Mason returned about twenty minutes later with a remote-door opener.   He made sure to catch Tony’s attention before opening the gate as not to surprise his companions.  Tony inquired about the house.

“What’s it like?”

“You’re gonna like this.” Mason said and pushed the button, opening the large gate.

At the top of the driveway, Mason drove towards a large sterile looking mansion looming in the darkness.  The mansion was devoid of any illumination inside or out of its massive structure.  The trucks lights reflected on its many windows.  Tony poked his head into the rear window.

“Looks empty.” Tony said.

“Locked up tight,” said Mason, “See the front door, it’s not wood, it’s steel, and I think the windows are bulletproof.”

“What”

“Yep; they’re not glass.  Like some thick plastic.”  Mason said, “But that’s not where we’re going.”

He turned before the mansion and continued on the driveway as it leveled out.   Behind the mansion and off to the left was a smaller, two story guest house with an open, well lit garage.  Mason swung the truck around in a wide turn and parked in reverse.

“Parked for a quick get-away?” Veronica asked.

“Always a good idea,” Jack smiled.  He turned to the rear window.  Nikki and Tony were close, sharing the small access.  Tony spoke,

“Nobody’s home?”

“Not as far as I could tell.  Let’s you and me have a look around first, before we get too comfortable.” Mason said.

“You know this cat has to have some guns lying around.” Tony smiled.

“Just what I was thinking,” Mason said and opened his door.

Veronica adjusted the side view mirror so that she could see behind the truck.  She watched with a morbid amusement as the men disappeared from the garage into the house.  She knew that guns were important to their survival but found it odd that despite the circumstances, the men engaged in their search with childlike enthusiasm.  She might have laughed had she the energy. 

“Shall we go in dear?” Her elderly companion asked.

“Uh, no not yet.  They’re going to make sure everything is safe first.”  Veronica answered.  She noticed that Nikki had stood up and was no longer looking in the cab from the window. 

“Oh, I see.”

Veronica wondered how Nikki was doing outside the cab.  She surmised that Nikki was keeping some sort of watch down the driveway but she couldn’t be sure.  She wanted to ask how Nikki was but was afraid of disturbing her.  She knew how desperate Nikki must feel wanting to find her parents.  Veronica remembered how helpless she felt in her father’s last few weeks.  She remembered how nothing else mattered besides being there for her dad.  Even now, the memory made her desperate to act; to try and do something positive.

“How are you doing with all this Mrs. McCormick, all these… problems?” Veronica asked.

“I don’t understand any of it.”  Margaret threw up her thin hands in frustration and added, “Where’re the Police; the Sheriff?  That’s what I’d like to know.”

Veronica nodded while Margaret continued.

“Oh the racket yesterday!  It sounded like the Fourth of July outside; and from all directions.  Did you hear any of it?” Margaret asked.

“No, we were up in the hills.” Veronica said.

“That’s right, you said so earlier.  I’m sorry, I forgot.  I’m feeling a bit tired.”

“Well, when the men are done, we can go in and get some rest.” Veronica said.

“Stay here?  Without permission?”

“Yeah it’s probably best until we know more about what’s going on.  I’m sure it’s okay given the emergency.”

The old woman nodded and looked out over the distance to the grand mansion.

Veronica, still concerned about Nikki twisted her body to try and speak out the rear window.  Her movement stressed her wound causing her to gasp.

“Are you all right dear?” Margaret asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am okay,” she said holding her side. 

“What ever happened to you?”

“I was shot.” Veronica breathed deeply.

“Dear lord! Shot?”

“Yeah, got lucky.  It just hurts a lot” Veronica nodded.

“My word, by whom?” Margaret leaned forward.

“The owner of this house actually.”  Veronica said unable to laugh at the fact that she was now parked in front of her assailant’s home.

“The Richardson Boy?” Margaret whispered.  Veronica nodded.

“He was at the lake with us.  He tried to kill me to save his own neck from those things.”

“Oh…” Margaret said astonished and leaned back against the seat.

“He’s dead now,” said Veronica, who then thought that she could’ve been more delicate.  Her father had always said that it was bad manners to speak ill of the dead.  What would the old lady think of her?  To Veronica’s surprise, it was the lady who spoke.

“He was a miserable little boy; same with the father, both rotten to the core.” The old woman said, “The grandfather, Arthur, he was a good man; a very rich man, but still a decent man.  Sometimes it’s hard to be both; but his offspring, not worth a Tinker’s damn.”

Veronica smirked while wondering what a Tinker’s Damn might be worth.  Margaret pointed towards the mansion.

“That was Arthur Richardson’s home.  It’s so beautiful inside; like a palace. I’ve been there three times.  Every Boxing day; that’s the day after Christmas, Mr. Richardson would host a dinner for some of his employees.”  She looked to Veronica with sad eyes, “When he passed, God rest his soul, the son, Gavin, stopped the tradition.”

Margaret turned away and finished, “Such a selfish and sick boy he was.”

Veronica nodded unsure of what to say.

Tony bounded from the kitchen door into the garage and over to the truck, catching Veronica’s attention.  He came to the side of the truck and offered his hand to Nikki, helping her down.  He opened Veronica’s door and spoke.