Read The Dying of the Light (Book 1): End Online

Authors: Jason Kristopher

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The Dying of the Light (Book 1): End (25 page)

BOOK: The Dying of the Light (Book 1): End
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“Well, maybe we’ll find something we can use in the video.” He tried to smile winningly at her, completely unaware that it appeared instead as yet another leer.

 

Doris narrowed her eyes and glared at him.
How much does this little troll know? Did Steven tell him about that emblem?

 

“Oh, I doubt that,” she said. “Nothing there, really.”

 

Rick looked around, as though he’d just realized something. “Where’s the new guy?”

 

Doris lost it. “That ‘new guy’ was worthless, Rick! He couldn’t hold the camera steady to save his or my life, he was never ready to roll when I needed him and to top it all off, he asked me to drop him off at his place instead of coming back here. Said he had something ‘important’ to do. I swear to god if you ever send some useless prick like that out with me again, I’ll…”

 

Rick held out his hands, surrendering. “Okay, okay, Doris. Just come inside and we’ll see what you’ve got on the video.”

 

“You know what, Rick? I don’t think I will,” she said, hands on her hips. “I’ve changed my mind. It’s been a long goddamned day and I’m going home. We can go over the video tomorrow.” She turned and stormed off across the lot to her car, an aging pale blue BMW. Rick just watched her go, shrugging and heading back inside.

 

Doris sat down in the front seat of the car, the recorded disks resting in a plastic bag on the passenger seat. Pulling out her Blackberry, she texted her sometime ‘boyfriend’ Jason, although that was a huge stretch. He was more
convenient
than anything else.

 

“Have special project for u. Meet ASAP, my place.”

 

Smiling to herself in triumph, she put the key in the ignition. She never saw the hand that came from the back seat and clamped over her mouth, or the needle that dipped ever so quickly into her neck.

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

Fort Carson, Colorado

 

Maxwell waved Kim and I into his office, and we remained at attention while he was on the phone.

 

“No sir, I’m not saying we did everything right. Yes, sir, I realize there were mistakes made. Yes, sir, we’ll correct those as soon as we can.” The colonel looked up at us and motioned for us to sit, then rolled his eyes, holding the headset away from his ear. We both grinned.

 

“Yes, sir. No, sir. Absolutely, sir. Mr. Gardner, sir, I’m afraid I have to go — debriefings, you know. Goodbye, sir.” I could hear Gardner still talking as Maxwell hung up the phone, but I wasn’t about to stop him.

 

“So, thanks for getting here so quickly,” he said, smiling. “I
hate
talking to that guy.” He stood up and then came around the desk and perched on one corner of it.

 

“We lost a lot of good people today. Nearly three-quarters of Second team.”

 

“Three-quarters, sir? I knew about Charlie squad, but Delta, too?” I asked.

 

“Oh, they weren’t turned or anything. No, unfortunately, they were killed when some redneck tried to cross the barricade and accidentally slammed his jacked up F-350 into their Humvee at about 60mph.” He shook his head. “As if we didn’t have enough problems with the walkers.”

 

“What was the total on walkers, sir?”

 

“Three hundred and fifty-two. Another forty or so uninfected are under observation for psychosis, and we had to euthanize twenty-three that had been bitten. All of the bodies are being cremated, of course, with fake ashes returned to their families.”

 

I sighed, not liking it but understanding the necessity. “Any problems with the media?”

 

Maxwell looked at me sharply for a moment, and then shook his head. “Nothing we couldn’t handle, Blake. Damn reporters nosing around; I hate reporters.”

 

“How’d things go in Maine, sir?” asked Kim.

 

“They went right the hell out the window. Only lost one of ours, but we had to write the whole city off, for the most part.”

 

I swallowed. “Sir? What happened?”

 

He sighed and moved to his windows, looking out at the sprawling base, his hands clasped behind his back. “Commander Anderson tells me that our intel from the Maine location was
extremely
unrealistic. There were more than two hundred walkers there when we arrived, and it was only because of their training and superior firepower that they were able to maintain the single casualty. He said that, at the end, they were firing on civilians who were rushing the barricades, scared out of their minds. The country’s so open up there that the Strykers burned through two tanks of gas each just on perimeter patrols.”

 

“Scylla and Charybdis, sir,” I said, and both he and Kim turned to look at me. “Homer’s Odyssey, sir? A rock and a hard place. Either get eaten by zombies or shot by the Army. I know which I’d rather choose, sir.”

 

Kim shuddered, nodding. “Too right. No choice there at all.”

 

Maxwell looked thoughtful. “Maybe you’re right. In any case, we ended up wiping out most of the town. Called it a gas main explosion. We used a low-yield FAE. I’m afraid there’s not much left.”

 

“Holy shit, sir! I thought fuel-air explosives required special presidential authorization.”

 

“Normally they would, but AEGIS has been cleared to use them at our discretion, with the caveat that every use would be investigated later. It was one of my conditions for starting the program.”

 

“Ah, forgiveness is better than permission, right, sir?”

 

“Exactly. Still, there were more than 8,000 people in Farmington. We rescued fewer than 500.”

 

This sobering thought occupied all our attentions for a moment, until I realized something.

 

“Shit!” I said, still thinking.

 

“Yes, Mr. Blake?” Maxwell said. “What is it?”

 

“Something’s been bothering me ever since Rawlins, and I just figured out what it was.”

 

“Do tell.”

 

“So Charlie squad was overrun and taken down, at least most of them.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Then they came and attacked us after they were turned.”

 

“That’s what you stated in your report.”

 

“So the question is, how the hell did they turn so fast?”

 

Maxwell thumped back in his seat. “Holy shit.”

 

“Exactly, sir. The only other time we’ve seen this sort of speed in turning was with that tech that Chauncey got to. He turned before we even made it to the building, sir. Maybe 10 — 15 minutes, at most. Charlie Squad took about the same time, given what we heard.”

 

Kim looked over at Maxwell. “Sir, did we ever find out anything from Gardner’s people on that situation with Chauncey? Maybe there’s something they’ve discovered…”

 

Maxwell was silent, staring down at his desk. I could almost see the thunderclouds forming over his head as his expression turned darker by the moment.

 

“No, we never did get any information from them, as such, major,” he said. I don’t think he realized he was clenching his fists.

 

“And what about those kids? They were too damned fast. That can’t be normal,” I said. “Kim and I saw the same thing from that kid in Roosevelt. Just blindingly fast. But only the kids. Any word on that either?”

 

“No,” he said. I had the impression that Mr. Gardner was going to have a very unpleasant conversation, very soon.

 

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and Commander Anderson entered, saluting.

 

“Yes, commander?” said Maxwell.

 

“Sir, I’ve got some bad news,” he said, moving forward. “It looks like Tremaine isn’t going to make it, sir.” His face looked bleak as he turned to us. “Tremaine was in 4
th
Team up in Maine. We thought he was just ill, but it turns out he was hiding a bite, and is in the last stages of turning.”

 

 

The ACU-clad walker pounded against the thick bullet-proof glass, trying to get to the food it saw on the other side. Several of us stood there, staring at it, wanting more than a little to reach for our sidearms as the creature pounded again and again at the barrier.

 

I know it would be practically impossible for the thing to break out, but after what happened with Chauncey…
I shuddered, still hearing the echoing screams of the poor technician who’d slipped up just a bit and ended up as walker food.

 

There was a buzz from the security door, and the colonel waved at the small window set into the frame, simultaneously pushing the button that turned the observation glass opaque. There was another buzz, and the door opened to admit Henry Gardner, in a different — yet still dull — gray suit.

 

“Ah, Mr. Gardner, good to have you with us. I thought you might like to see what your orders have wrought.”

 

Gardner looked at him skeptically. “Yes, well, let’s not waste time, colonel. Where’s the specimen?”

 

“If you’ll just step up to the glass, sir, you’ll be able to see in just a moment.” He looked at Kimberly and I and the other soldiers in the room as Gardner stepped forward, trying to see through the glass, and then pushed the button, turning it transparent once more.

 

Just as the walker formerly known as Tremaine crashed into the glass again, right in front of the hapless government official.

 

“Wow,” I said, checking Gardner’s pulse a moment later. “I’ve never seen anyone pass out that quickly.”

 

Kim massaged her temples. “Or scream that loud.”

 

“He’ll be fine, sir,” I told the colonel. I took a capsule of smelling salts from the medkit mounted on the wall nearby, and broke them open under the poor man’s nose, waking him. “You’re fine, Mr. Gardner. You just had a bit of a fright.”

 

Gardner stood, needlessly straightening his necktie and combing back his hair. “I…” he stammered, then took a deep breath and continued. “I wasn’t expecting that. You might have warned me, colonel.”

 

Maxwell gave him a look of studied innocence. “Oops.”

 

I studiously ignored Kimberly, knowing if I even glanced her way we’d both be laughing for quite some time over that.

 

The walker was still clattering against the glass in its attempt to get to us, and once he’d composed himself, Gardner moved forward to study it.

 

“Yes, yes, I think this will do just fine. Assuming the proper precautions are taken, I believe we can study this specimen
quite
successfully. This is a great day, gentlemen. We’ve rarely had such an opportunity. Especially with such a
fresh
specimen! This is truly a cause for excitement.” He turned back to us, his eagerness to get started plain.

 

I slowly turned to look at Maxwell. “Sir?” I said, my voice strained. Kim looked as though she was about to chew through her lip to keep from saying something.

 

“I’ll handle this,” he said, his voice cold and remote, as it had been when ordering Major Carver’s relief. He strode over to Gardner, stopping an inch or so away from the grey man, who, being backed up against the glass had nowhere to go. The walker became frantic trying to reach him, and Gardner turned almost as grey as his suit.

 


Mister
Gardner, that creature in there was once a decorated soldier of these United States. He and nine other men and women gave their lives today, defending their people and their country, and you
will
respect their sacrifice,” he said, his iron gaze wilting the government man where he stood. “Because the next time I hear you even begin to disrespect one of our fighting men or women in any way, shape or form, I will personally feed you to Tremaine here, a piece at a time. Clear?”

 

Scylla and Charybdis, indeed.

 

Gardner nodded mutely, and Maxwell moved back. “Very well,” he said. Pushing another button on the table, he spoke into a small speaker. “Mary, you can come in now.”

 

Dr. Adamsdóttir entered the room and I listened as Mary talked with the colonel and Gardner.

 

“Well, we’ve gotten more out of Mr. Tremaine than from other walkers, as we had his baseline genetic code already from earlier blood tests and other samples. Now we have what remains in the veins of the cadaver, as well as behavioral observations, etc.” She paused, thoughtful. “I’m not sure what we’ll get out of that last, though. We have complete studies of adult turned subjects from prior specimens, and none of them are different from any of the others. I mean, it’s not like we can train them to do even menial tasks. Really, once the biological samples have been obtained, I’d recommend destroying the specimen to prevent potential accidents or other issues, such as what happened with Chauncey.”

 

Everyone in the room — even Gardner — winced at that memory.

 

“Agreed,” said Maxwell. “Let me know when you’ve retrieved all you can from Tremaine, then I’ll take care of it from there.”

 

“Colonel, surely you can see the value in retaining a specimen such as this!” said a startled Gardner. “Beyond the purely physical aspects such as DNA, think of the potential for other uses. Despite Dr. Adamsdóttir’s clearly biased
opinion
, several specialists believe that they
can
be trained to do menial work, and then there’s the bio-weapons potential…”

 

Gardner broke off as he caught the look in Maxwell’s eye. “This specimen is to be destroyed
immediately
once Dr. Adamsdóttir is finished collecting samples. Is that clear, Mr. Gardner?” said the colonel.

 

“Colonel Maxwell, may I remind you that despite its overly-authorized level of autonomy, AEGIS is still under the command of the Department of Defense and the Secretary, and that as his personal representative and liaison here, I retain…”

BOOK: The Dying of the Light (Book 1): End
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