The Surviving Son (Valkyrie Book 2) (22 page)

All living things are but an insignificant ripple in the vast ocean
of life, each on colliding with another to form larger ripples, and all
eventually washing upon the shores and eroding our planet to suit
their own survivability. Mankind, in the history of all living things,
started from a ripple, then rapidly expanded into a swell which has
collided with all shores with devastating results. But, over the last
twelve horrific and damnable years the reign of man has diminished,
the violent surf we forced upon this world has receded back to the
ripple that it once was, and all beneath the iron tidal waves of
Valkyrie.

She has been called many things over the years; Lucifer’s
Maiden, the Blunder of Man, God’s Wrath, and even Nature’s Iron
Fist. The latter may be more fitting then the others, for when we take
away the archaic fables of man’s superstitions, all we have left is
nature, and she is a maleficent bitch. Throughout Earth’s history,
Mother Nature has both given and taken life, meagerly as well as
absolutely. And that is exactly what Valkyrie is, the reset button for
all of nature, the necessary genocide of mankind, a last ditch effort
to bring balance back to life as a whole.

Ash, my dearest friend, spoke coldly of Necessary Genocide,
the culling of the herd so that that strongest and righteous will
prevail. Garrison too spoke of something similar, what I referred to
as Evolutionary Cleansing, an action which would seem to be
important to our own survival and progress, but also seemed less
offensive than straight up genocide. In truth, the two are one and the
same, immoral grasps at straws to solve the problems of the world.
How can we put ourselves above all others, put ourselves above
nature, for she was here first and not ours to spoil. Out of the
decimation of man it is all too clear, our problems are self-induced,
and our extinction is nature’s prioritized genocide. For when we are
gone, the Infected will eventually starve, and after a thousand trips
around the sun, life will start anew. One day, long from now, a new
species will have their shot at reigning over this world.

My own pessimism was not always apparent or even
acknowledged, at all times I have shown optimism and hope that
this is not the end, that mankind can and will live on. And maybe
this is still true, maybe there is an unseen force working for us, or
the will of man is more powerful than we could have ever imagined.
Yet I cannot help but look upon our ongoing misfortunes as a
precursor to the final chapter of humanity. We are just a fading
droplet in the pool.

Abel, that sweet boy who has never heard or seen any of the
spectacular wonders of the world, who lived only by the words of
his father and by the laws of the land, has been plucked from his
own pond in hopes that his ripples will redirect our path. And based
on the events at Rangeley, he, we are on course, only the captain has
been left behind. The world must now truly band together, end the
needless squabbling, and follow our guiding star back to
civilization. However, I feel nothing for the outcome, no matter
which shore it washes upon. I feel nothing. Endless thought, and yet
no emotion, I can’t even remember what love, hate, joy or even
sadness feels like. An endless emptiness with only curiosity to keep
me company.

Thinking back over my own life, my happiness as a boy waking
upon Christmas morning, the joy over the birth of my beautiful
daughter, the sorrow in the painful death of my mother, and yet I
remember none of it. The visions are strong in my mind, but the
emotions are empty. It is as if my entire life, all of my experiences,
all of my heartache and happiness were just dreams within a cloud
of intangible despair.

Thinking back on the years I spent below the surface of Fort
Detrick, alone and forgotten, fighting a battle against one of man’s
greatest adversaries and her legions of endless nightmares, I am
stuck with the thoughts of failure. What was missed back within
those depths of technological advancements? I was the first to crack
her genome, stare her down, and manipulate her in various ways.
But, never was I able to control or vanquish her. Ever step I took in
our fiery waltz, she countered and led.

My first experiment, my initial glimpse at what Valkyrie, was
both heartbreaking and necessary. Over my career I have done many
tests and experiments on a variety of animals and although I felt guilt
over my actions, the greater good is what guiding my hand. And
Valkyrie pushed that guilt even further, for my first experiment was
to test her capabilities; agility, dominance, discipline and
effectiveness. Suzanne was the precious soul that allowed me to see
what this disease was truly capable of.

The young orangutan came to me years prior, purchased
through the black market from a trapper somewhere in Borneo. Only
six month old at the time, and selected to test a new vaccine against
Anthrax. However, upon her arrival, Susanne and I immediately
formed a bond, one that prevented me from running any tests on her.
My defiance against my superiors was met with harsh criticism, but
in the end, due to the progress I had made with other test subjects,
Susanne and I were left alone.

Our friendship grew strong over the years, and she eventually
became a loyal lab assistant. Fetching random tools for me,
effectively calming other frightened primates, and on occasion
fetching me food when I was too busy to take a break. She was by
my side day after day, a friend unlike any I have ever had before.
And in a way, she became a daughter to me, as precious as my own
flesh and blood.

Within days of receiving living samples of Valkyrie I was
forced to test HER turn rate. But I needed a human-like subject,
something that could think, problem solve, and feel a wide range of
emotions. Although I had many primates to test, they were small and
far too animalistic. Susanne was the only one that possessed the
mental capabilities that I required, and knowing that broke my heart
instantly.

I can remember trying to hold back the tears as I prepped the
syringe and escorted her into the observation chamber. She had no
idea what was happening, holding my hand gently as she always did
when we walked through the facility, smacking her lips playfully
and blowing random raspberries. Once inside the chamber she
crawled up on a stool and held out her arm, like she has so many
times before when I needed to draw blood, and never once flinched
when I punctured her flesh. Until that day, she jolted as I plunged
the liquid in her veins, and afterwards she rubbed the area and stared
at me as if violated.

Then, unexpectedly and painfully she leaned over and kissed
my forehead as she playfully rubbed her hand through my hair. It
was too much, and without another word I left the room, locking the
door behind me. The clank of the steel bolt was met with a loud
pounding against the door and with a jolt to my heart I turned and
looked through the observation window.

Susanne stood at the glass, arms outstretched upon them and
staring at me with her mouth agape and a loud screech resonating
from her airwaves. Angry at my betrayal, but that was not the case,
her gorgeous brown eyes seemed to fill rapidly with a milky haze,
and within moments she erupted into a frenzy. Pounding the shatterproof glass with her fists as she spat upon it and bayed like a beast
from hell. My adopted daughter, my friend, was no more. In less
than a minute she had gone from a gentle and caring ape, to a
ravenous and abominable monstrosity.

My heart full of guilt, flooded with regret, I slumped down on
the floor next to the chamber and cried like a baby as my best friend
assaulted her containment with a ferocity that was unbecoming. I
can’t be sure how long I sat there and wallowed in my own
selfishness, but not once did I ever look back into those eyes. The
creature I knew was no more, and I fought back those emotions in
order to focus on the experiment.

Over the next few days I exposed her to different stimuli.
Random photos, but her only focus was on me. Then inanimate
objects; a ball, her favorite stuffed teddy bear, and even a bowl of
Kiwi’s which she favored above all other fruits. All of which were
ignored, and her eyes still focused violently upon me. And then
came the test of all tests, and the moment that I knew there was no
coming back from this infection.

It began with introducing a deceased rabbit into the chamber,
and at first she ignored it, eyes still on me. After a few moments she
became agitated and eventually picked up the carcass and sauntered
over to me before an ear piercing bellow escaped her mouth and with
ease she tore the rabbit in half and slammed each bloody end against
the glass, snarling insatiably. Her breath steamed up the pane, and
her demonic façade faded beneath a fog of infection.

That was the last test. The following day I sedated her, using
ten times the normal dosage to achieve a docile temperament. It
should have killed her, but it didn’t, instead she lay motionless
except her heavy and hateful breaths. Carefully I took blood, hair,
and saliva samples before wheeling her into the incineration
chamber and igniting the burners. Once again I was overcome with
emotion, and began to cry as I looked through the heat resistant glass
and upon the demise of a precious soul.

The sedative faded, and violently she slammed into the glass,
pounding her fists against the chamber door as her hair was scorched
away to reveal blistering skin that quickly peeled from her muscles.
Within minutes her final assault ended and she fell to the chamber
floor before crumbling to a dark crisp ash. For days afterwards I did
nothing but relish in my own guilt, fighting bouts of drunken sorrow,
and eventually sleeping longer than I ever had before.

However, thinking back on those heartbreaking days bring back
none of those painful emotions, and I no longer feel that dreadful
guilt. I’ve lost my own humanity, it’s been smothered, shrouded in
the devil’s veil. And yet, now I can see what I had overlooked. A
long term test-subject, and quite possibly the key to unlocking
Valkyries secrets. My emotions drove my actions, without them the
world may be a better place today.

With that in mind, Abel just might be the key to ending all of
this suffering, but like many times before, it will likely reveal just
another labyrinth of locked doors. But as I stand here, watching the
horizon, I wonder what will become of him, how will he cope with
this new world he is entering. In the forefront of my thoughts is the
question of if Nova will recognize him, recognize his scent, or see
him as a dangerous infection. And then the thoughts of his future
come to mind, will he ever find love? Will he become a leader? Or
will Valkyrie eventually take control of him? Even though it is a
futile endeavor, I am determined to find out the answers to those
very questions.

It took some time, back on the streets of Rangeley, to convince
my own legs to move, to escape that city of the damned. But with
both patience and strenuous focus, I pried one foot out in front of
the other and made my way west. What most would see as obstacles,
I saw as life goals. First it was to make way towards a large boulder
at the edge of Rangeley Lake, and once there, I would set a new
goal, pushing myself continuously until I reach my destination.
Until I once again stumbled down Zimmerman Blvd in the great city
of Maribel.

And as I trudge through the rugged landscape, I lose myself in
thought, in those questions that have driven me all these years.
Reviewing all the research in my head, and all that I have
experienced out in the wilds, drawing conclusions that only inspire
more questions. But, there is one question, one that all of the living
have asked at one time or another, one that we have always feared
to be answered. What is it like to be consumed by Valkyrie? I myself
have had a glimpse into such a transition, first with my own flesh
and blood, and then with Adam. But a glimpse was all that it was.

Pain was in their forefront, excruciating and endless pain. It
brought tears to them both, thick bloody tears that seemed to paint
their cheeks as it rolled over their cracked and decaying skin. I
remember thinking that it was almost pathetic that the Devil would
shed a tear, but it wasn’t the devil. It was them, simply trapped in
the Devil’s chambers. That first wave of emotion when they were
reconnected with their own consciousness must have been
overwhelmingly gratifying and endlessly depressing. It is something
I hope I will never have to experience, and yet curious of it at the
same time.

As for the ceaseless pain described upon their reawakening,
there are no words that can truly convey it. Like razor-blades, hotter
than the surface of the sun, coursing through every vein and every
muscle within your body. Bones feel as if they are shattering with
each step, and the heart pumps with rigor like it could rupture at any
moment. Then there is an infinite horde of fire ants crawling over
the skin, stinging and biting, clawing away at the flesh. And even
though I can feel every bit of it, I also have no emotion towards it. I
don’t want to cry, even if I could, I don’t want to die, although I
would not object. The pain is just there, and my trek before me is all
that I see.

Another step forward, my legs fighting me like a frightened
horse by the reigns, and that boulder even closer now with the
horizon awaiting patiently. I never noticed it before, but change is
all around me, rapidly drifting before my very eyes. The GFS air
convoy is far out of sight, and the sun barely hangs upon the skyline,
yet the leaves of the forest have gone from green to red within
minutes. It didn’t make sense, but I did not ponder it much. I was
still focused, still pushing each legs closer and closer to that boulder.