Day by Day Armageddon: Shattered Hourglass (19 page)

“Is everything all right, Dean? I heard Danny.”

“Yes, another nightmare. He’s had them for over a week now and I don’t know what to do.”

“Can I help?”

“No, it’s all right. Thank you for offering. He’ll just have to work through it. He really believes they’re onboard.”

“Those things?”

“Yes, he’s convinced. He thinks he heard one of them.”

“Where? When?” Tara asked, a flash of fear moving over her face.

“Over a week ago, farther back on the ship on this floor, in the restricted area. He didn’t tell me he’d been back there; I found out during the first night of nightmares.”

“What do you think?”

“About Danny?”

“No, about what he said about
them
being here.”

Dean tilted her head to the side for a moment, choosing her words carefully. “I think Danny has been through a lot, let’s put it that way.”

“You’re a pretty strong lady from what I’ve seen.”

“Thank you. I may seem like a cast-iron old bird at times, but every now and again it sure helps to hear that.”

“I mean it. Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, hon. You and Laura be sure to let me know if you need anything. I know her momma is busy these days with the doc.”

“Thanks,” Tara said, leaving for her adjoining stateroom.

Dean closed the door behind Tara, and turned to check how Danny was doing. The blanket moved slowly up and down in the
rhythm of the boy’s breathing. Tara’s voice must have soothed him enough to ease him back to sleep. Dean turned on her reading lamp and scanned her bookshelf. She decided on a random paperback to help her nod off. She started somewhere in
Freakonomics,
learning about why drug dealers still lived with their mothers . . . a time not so long ago when there were still drug dealers and their mothers, anyway. Dean eventually grew tired and drifted off to dreamland. Her final thought before the book dropped to her lap—
stay alive for him
. The creatures had thus far failed to sever their bond—Dean swore she’d not outlive Danny. He was the last of her line.

At about the same time Dean found sleep, a loud rap on the door woke Admiral Goettleman from his own rest, prompting a deluge of cursing as he pulled his legs over the side of the bed into his slippers. On his way to the noise, he looked up at the time—0300 hours. He cracked the door open to see his two guards standing like stone sentries next to Joe Maurer.

“Sir, I have a priority-one communiqué for you from the facility. I’m the only one onboard that has seen this and you are going to want to read it right away.”

Joe moved past the sentries and inside, closer to the admiral’s desk, and handed him the locked bag containing the message just received via secure wire.

“Close the door, Joe.”

After whispering something to the sentries, Joe did what he was told.

The admiral pulled the key out of his desk and unlocked the bag. Inside was a briefing folder with numerous classification markings. He put on his reading glasses and began to scan the cable.

BEGIN TRANSMISSION

KLIEGLIGHT SERIAL 205

RTTUZYUW-RQHNQN-00000-RRRRR-Y

T O P S E C R E T//SAP HORIZON

SUBJ: NEVADA SPECIMEN ALPHA REACTION TO MINGYONG ANOMALY

RMKS: BY ORDER OF COG AUTHORITY,
THIS STATION EXTRACTED ONE OF FOUR DECEASED SPECIMENS FROM DEEP AND LONGTERM CRYOGENIC CONTAINMENT. THIS STATION EXPOSED SPECIMEN ALPHA (FIRST SPECIMEN RECOVERED FROM 1947 CRASH SITE) TO AMBIENT AIR INSIDE A CONTROLLED AND SECURE TESTING FACILITY ON OUTBREAK D+335.

BACKGROUND: HUMAN TEST SUBJECTS REANIMATE ON AVERAGE AT + ~60 MINUTES FROM TIME OF DEATH BASED ON ROOM TEMPERATURES—LOWER TEMPERATURE LENGTHENS REANIMATION TIME—AND NATURAL CAUSE OF DEATH (NO EPIDERMAL BREACH). REANIMATION FOR HUMANS WITH UNDEAD INDUCED EPIDERMAL BREACH NEAR MAJOR ARTERIES HAS BEEN NOTED ON MANY OCCASIONS AT LESS THAN ONE HOUR. LESS THAN THIRTY MINUTES FOR SMALLER SUBJECTS.

SUMMARY: UPON RELEASE FROM THE CLOSED CRYOGENIC CAPSULE STORAGE ENVIRONMENT, SPECIMEN ALPHA IMMEDIATELY REACTED TO THE MINGYONG ANOMALY, BEGINNING REANIMATION PROCESS INDICATED BY ERRATIC MOVEMENT AND VOCAL NOISE FROM A MOUTH ORIFICE. FULL REANIMATION WAS NOTED BY OBSERVATION TEAM AT FOUR MINUTES, TWELVE SECONDS. SPECIMEN ALPHA WAS SELECTED FOR TESTING BASED ON BODY CONDITION. MOST OF THE SPECIMEN’S LOWER TORSO WAS MISSING FROM INJURIES SUSTAINED IN THE 1947 SHOOT DOWN.

THIS EXPERIMENT RESULTED IN TWO CASUALTIES.

SPECIMEN ALPHA—DESPITE MISSING LOWER EXTREMITIES—WAS ABLE TO COMPROMISE THE STEEL DOORS OF THE ENGINE TESTING FACILITY AND KILL TWO SPECIAL OPERATIONS PERSONNEL BEFORE AUXILIARY TEAMS WERE ABLE TO DEPLOY COUNTERMEASURES ON THE CREATURE
AND THE NEWLY REANIMATED OPERATORS. SMALL ARMS WERE NOTED AS MOSTLY INEFFECTIVE. ALTHOUGH DIFFICULT TO EXTRAPOLATE THE REANIMATED STRENGTH DEMONSTRATED BY SPECIMEN ALPHA, THE DESTROYED STEEL DOOR WAS RATED TO WITHSTAND PRESSURE FLUCTUATIONS OF EXPERIMENTAL ENGINE TESTING.

IT IS TACTICALLY SIGNIFICANT TO NOTE THAT SECOND ORDER MEDICAL EFFECTS WERE EXPERIENCED BY EXPOSED PERSONNEL IN DIRECT LINE OF SIGHT TO SPECIMEN ALPHA. THEY INCLUDE MIGRAINE HEADACHES AND EXTREME FATIGUE SYMPTOMS IN ALL PERSONNEL IN VICINITY OF THE CREATURE DURING THE TWELVE MINUTES OF REANIMATION. THESE MEDICAL EFFECTS SUBSIDED IMMEDIATELY AFTER SPECIMEN ALPHA’S BRAIN WAS DESTROYED VIA FLAME THROWER.

IT IS ALSO TACTICALLY SIGNIFICANT TO NOTE THAT THE REANIMATION OF THE TWO DECEASED SPECIAL OPERATIONS PERSONNEL OCCURRED ALMOST IMMEDIATELY. THE TWO REANIMATED OPERATORS DISPLAYED CHARACTERISTICS SIMILAR TO BASELINE UNDEAD THAT HAD BEEN EXPOSED TO HIGH LEVELS OF RADIATION FROM THE CITIES THAT WERE DESTROYED BY TACTICAL NUCLEAR WEAPONS. THE REANIMATED OPERATORS WERE ORDERED DESTROYED ALONG WITH SPECIMEN ALPHA.

SPECIMENS BRAVO, CHARLIE, AND DELTA REMAIN IN SECURE COLD STORAGE AND UNEXPOSED TO THE MINGYONG ANOMALY AS OF THIS TRANSMISSION.

T O P S E C R E T//SAP HORIZON

END TEXT TRANSMISSION

BT

AR

•   •   •

Admiral Goettleman spoke, eyes still fixated on the cable. “Looks like our theories were flat-out wrong. Our best minds bet on the Mingyong anomaly having no effect. The two creatures were at least twenty thousand years apart in evolution. The Office of Naval Intelligence is the originator of this report?”

“Yes, sir. One of their analysts drafted this up immediately after the experiment.”

“Who else knows?”

“The surviving COG, of course, the Nevada facilities, the remnants of the intelligence apparatus, myself, and now you.”

“Very well. Some of the senior officers onboard will be inquiring soon. We’ll need to tell them that the experiment was never carried out due to cryogenic complications. There is no benefit that I can see of informing them of this outcome.”

Reluctantly, Joe dissented. “What about Task Force Hourglass? It would increase mission success if we were to let them know what they might be up against. The creature in that report didn’t have legs, and was still able to wreak havoc—it killed two highly trained military personnel. Although not twenty thousand years old, the Nevada specimen was soaked and infused with preservative and flash frozen for decades before being reanimated by whatever is causing this. The creature inflicted massive damage—there is no question about that.”

Admiral Goettleman sat for a minute, staring down at his desk, before speaking. “Let’s hold off on this.
Virginia
is due in Hawaiian waters tonight and there’s no need to raise the alarm bells quite yet. Before we tell them what we know, that is
if
we decide to tell them, we’ll need to take that report and turn it into actionable intelligence. Case in point—fire may be the only way to neutralize CHANG, or whatever it is. Although fire didn’t kill Specimen Alpha instantaneously, it is the only validated means to destroy a reanimated gray—we’ve just confirmed that. I’m also a little puzzled by the psychological effects mentioned in the report. We’ll need more information. No need to go off half cocked without analyzing the data.”

“Very good, sir.”

“Get some sleep, Joe, you look like shit. It’s three in the morning, take what you need. Thanks for stopping by with this. When you get the chance, not now but later, brief me on the things we’re holding back aft. What are they calling them? Was it Bourbon or something like that?”

“Causeway and Downtown. They were named after their capture points. The Downtown specimen received hundreds of times the radiation of Causeway in the blast. The eggheads are measuring the effects. Soon, they’ll be in final phases of experimentation. They’ll alter brain function—surgically. Also, they are suspicious that this, whatever it is, causes some type of vision enhancement.”

“Yes, well, more about it when you wake up. Better turn in.”

“Will do, sir, see you in a few.”

Joe departed the room under a different mind-set. He felt more concerned than ever for the members of Hourglass. Also, there were whispers onboard. Talk of a young boy and his claims that he heard the moans of the undead—likely Downtown or Causeway—in an area aft through a fan room bulkhead. Rumors that he’d need to brief the leadership about after getting some sleep. Joe’s boot heels clicked on the glossy blue tile as he made his way back to the SCIF to destroy the compartmented report.

Captain Larsen sat in his chair at the conn. All navigation instrumentation indicated that USS
Virginia
was off the northern shore of Oahu. It was 2300 hours local Hawaii time, full dark.

“COB, up periscope. Let’s have a peek.”

“Aye, sir.”

The master chief proceeded to use the night-vision capability of the periscope to reconnoiter the coastline.

“What do you see?”

“Sir, there’s fire in the distance. I’d switch to another spectrum, but I don’t think it would help. I see palm trees bent and blasted in our direction like an explosion snapped them over. I’ll scan the shore a bit.”

“Very well.”

The master chief slowly panned along the shoreline. What was a mile offshore seemed like only a few feet with the sub’s powerful periscope optics. Except . . .

“There’s something wrong with the scope, Captain,” said the COB, still glued to the eye shields.

“What do you mean?”

“The shoreline is grainy. I can’t focus on it.”

“Move aside.” The COB stepped down from the periscope, allowing the captain to have his first look at Oahu in the three years since he was last in port on another boat—the one before he took his current command.

Captain Larsen peered through the optics, out at the shoreline, allowing his eyes to adjust. “I can’t see anything, COB, what do you mean?”

“Captain, the shoreline is grainy. Like something is wrong with the software.”

“Well, I missed my eye appointment this year, so my prescription may not be up to date. Remind me to make that appointment if we ever get back to the mainland.”

Some laughs spread around the conn between the sailors.

“I’ll do that, sir.”

The captain looked around the conn for younger eyes and saw Kil standing there in coveralls, holding a cup of coffee.

“Commander, why don’t you have a look with those aviator eyes of yours?”

“You got it, Skipper,” Kil said to the captain, attempting to pull some humor from the old man.

“I thought I told you this wasn’t a goddamned ready room.”

“My apologies, Captain, force of habit,” Kil replied with a half smile as he approached the periscope.

Kil leaned down to the eye shields just as the COB reached over to adjust the height. Kil nodded a thanks and had a look.

“Oh shit.”

“What’s the situation?”

“Captain, there’s nothing wrong with your periscope . . . those are mobs of creatures on the shoreline. It might look like static to those of you not fortunate enough to have twenty-fifteen vision. Looks like thousands of them.”

“How could they know we’re here?! We came in at the dead of night on a goddamned fast-attack nuclear submarine!” the captain said angrily, addressing the whole conn.

“Captain, I don’t think they did.”

“Then how can this be?”

Kil stepped up to the grease board and began to illustrate.

“Captain, this is a rough representation of Oahu. Although not quite a circle, it is obviously an island. To understand why the dead are on the North Shore is to understand why they move, and the rudimentary way in which they
think
—so to speak. I, of course, don’t mean they think in the same way we do, but in the way one of those automatic robot vacuum cleaners might move, or perhaps a child’s toy. Do any of you know the term
diaspora
?

One of the sailors raised his hand and said, “I’m Jewish—I’ve read about it.”

“Well, then you’ll likely know what I’m getting at. In all my travels in and across undead-infested areas, I have learned their priority of movement. The number one influence to undead migration is sound. The number two is visual stimulus from something they identify as alive. If sound is not present, I think they may spread in much the same way as a good break in a game of pool: outward.”