Deadlocked 7 (29 page)

“We merged the two programs, and started using the eugenic program’s children as test subjects for the WBE program. I was one of the subjects, or at least this body was, if you’re following me, and so was your son. This body was designed to be perfect, but we ran into a flaw we didn’t anticipate. We wanted to promote diversity with our original program, but the truth of the matter is that different cultures have developed different immune responses. People of African ancestry just didn’t have the same ability to develop antibodies to the virus. It was a terrible, heartbreaking discovery for us, and we did everything we could to remedy the problem, but there was nothing we could do. We had to abandon many of the early eugenic subjects, but we thought of them as our own children. That’s why I came to you and Arlene with Jim.”

Reagan remembered the day Covington had come to him with the information about the African American boy that he was trying to find parents for. Covington had told him that the
child was a refugee whose family had been murdered, and that he was found in South Africa. Charles and his wife had always wanted children but had never been able to conceive. They agreed to meet Jim, and fell in love with him immediately. Reagan loved the boy like his own from the day they met.

“I knew the two of you would be fantastic parents,” said Covington. “I wanted Jim to have a good life, and you helped make that happen. I’ve always been thankful to you for that, Charles.”

“If you abandoned the kids, then why are you sitting there in Jim’s body?” asked Reagan.

“Each of us kept one as a backup,”
said Covington.

Reagan heard Billy sobbing from the tablet between them.

“Can you let the boys down, please?” asked Reagan. “Can you at least do that for me?”

Covington chuckled and sneered, then crossed his arms and shook his head. “You must be insane. These two have spent the better part of two years with you. There’s no telling what sort of shit they’ve learned. I’m not about to give them a chance to attack one of my men and escape.”

Billy cried out in agony.

“At least let Billy down, the white one with the bro
ken back. He can’t do anything. He’s had back problems for years. Let him down.”

Covington looked down at the tablet and turned the volume down. “
I know he’s got back problems, he won’t stop crying about it. That’s why I used him for my demonstration. And no, I won’t let him down yet. First we need to come to an understanding here.”

“An understanding about what?” asked Reagan.

“About the reason we went to so much trouble to get you here. We’ve been setting this trap for a long time, Reagan. You’re not an easy man to catch.”

“I’m flattered,” said Reagan.

“When you adopted Jim, something happened that no one expected. When Jim had been with us, we had tried to get his immune system to produce antibodies to the virus, but it never worked. Yet somehow, your body developed those antibodies by being near Jim. Or at least that’s the best we could come up with. Remember when you were taken to the prison? When I came into your plastic cell and met with you?”

“Yes,” said Reagan.

“The scientists at the prison had taken some of your blood and were shocked to discover you were immune. And not just to the virus, but to every virus that we had designed Jim to be immune to. That’s when we knew you, or more specifically your son, was the key we’d been looking for. His immune system had influenced yours, and we need a chance to study that, Reagan. For the good of humanity, we need you. We’ve been trying to replicate what happened in your son’s immune system, but we can’t. We’ve tested thousands of African American children, injecting them with various strains of the virus, but nothing has helped us come any closer to replicating what occurred between you and your boy. That’s what I was trying to tell you when you stuck a piece of glass through my throat.”

Reagan couldn’t help but stare at the tablet on the counter as Billy writhed in his chains. Covington saw his friend’s gaze and reached out to push the tablet closer to Reagan. “If you want to save these boys, then you’ll work with us. You’ll help my scientists figure o
ut what makes you so different.”

Reagan touched the microphone control on the tablet to try and speak to Billy, but the computer didn’t respond. He looked up at Covington, who
just shrugged.

“Only works for me, old man,” said Covington. “Now, are you going to help me?”

“If I say yes, will you let them go?”

Covington shook his head. “No, of course not. But as a show of good will, I’ll let the white kid down. He’s suffered enough, and I don’t think he’ll be doing much damage with a broken back. Then, if you work with the scientists, I’ll get both of these boys into a comfy cell.”

“Fine,” said Reagan. “Let Billy down, but I’ve got a few more questions before we get the lab coats in here.”

“Okay,” said Covington in triumph. He pulled the tablet back across the table and clicked on the microphone. “
Dean.”

The soldier in the room with Billy picked up the
device that was in the room with him and turned it so that it was looking at his face. “Yep?” They were using a separate feed from the one that the facility was connected to, and Reagan wondered who they were afraid might be watching.

“G
o ahead and let the kid down. Then stay in the room with him until I contact you again.” He clicked off the microphone and then leaned back as he smiled at Reagan. “What’s your question?”

Reagan watched the screen as Dean set the camera back down and then released the chain that held Billy up. Reagan watched as the boy fell to the floor. Billy curled up and was shaking as the soldier in the room walked around him. ‘Get up, Billy,’ Reagan thought as he watched his friend writhe in pain.

“What’s your question?” asked Covington again.

“Why did you end up in Jim’s body?” asked Reagan, although his attention was on the video of Billy.

“Like I told you, we kept one of our children as a back-up. I had a new kid in the Dawn program, but he was still too young when you killed me.”

‘Get up, Billy,’ Reagan thought as he stared at the screen.

Billy lay nude on the floor, his fingers clawing at the concrete as he suffered. The boy’s back had been devastated, and Reagan feared he would never walk again.

Covington continued, eager to tell his story.
Hubris had always been the general’s weakness. “We had no choice but to use this body, and we weren’t able to do the final transfer.”

“What’s that?” asked Reagan as he tried to keep Covington talking.

“That’s when the older subject is allowed to die and the final bits of information are transferred to the Dawn. It completes the process. Unfortunately, you stole that from me, but we did our best to make up for it. If you’ll remember, I brought you to my office in the prison to speak with you.”

“Right,” said Reagan as he watched Billy on the screen.

“That was because I wanted to make sure our conversation took place in a room that was wired with our cameras and microphones. The security systems in all of our facilities, including this one, are tied to the main database. My office was set up to record everything I did, and that information was transferred to a central database that then fed it to my Dawn. So, even though I don’t exactly remember how it felt when you murdered me, I can still understand it because of the recordings. Sort of like I watched a movie of my own death, if that makes sense.”

Billy was pointing at his back as he rolled to his side. The expression on his face was of pure agony as he screamed and cried. Dean looked into the camera
, asking a question that Covington didn’t hear. Then he walked over to Billy’s wrists and unlatched the cuffs, allowing the boy to grab at his pained back.

‘
Get up,’ Reagan pleaded with Billy. He put his feet on the bottom rung of the stool as if he were a bird perched on a limb.

“Is that it?” asked Covington. “Any other questions before we get to work?”

“I thought you guys already had a cure,” said Reagan. “Why do you need me?”

“We do have one for the original virus,” said Covington. “But there was a group of people inside of our own organization that was planning a new apocalypse. You see, as much as I’m sure you want to hate me, I’m really trying my best to save as many people as possible now. That’s why I need you, Reagan. This time I really am the good guy, and I need you with me, not just as a test subject, but as a friend and comrade. I want your help taking down the people in my own organization that have been planning on a new apocalypse. I’ve learned a lot since the last time we met, Reagan.” Covington shook his head and sighed. “If you thought the first apocalypse was bad, you’ve got no idea what’s in store next.
I’ve got my hands on some potent new forms of the virus, but I need a cure before I can risk doing anything with them. I want to fight these fuckers, and you’re the key to a new, even more devastating weapon than the one they have. With you, I can win this. I can use the Tempest strain.”

Billy persisted, reaching out to Dean and pleading for help as he pointed at his back.

“And what’s that?” asked Reagan, feigning interest.

“Courtland, the scientist on that island you flew to, wasn’t working on his own. He was working for a group of people in our organization that had developed a new virus and was trying to come up with a cure for it. They were planning on a mass extinction, even worse than the original. We’ve been working hard to secure this area because this is where the Dawns are located. All of our children are in facilities in this area. We used your attacks as an impetus to evacuate The Electorate and gain complete control here.”

“Okay,” said Reagan, trying his best to focus on Covington and the computer at the same time.

“You rescued a girl on that island that had been injected with Courtland’s experiment.
We’re hoping that your time with her has transferred your immune response to her, and then we can turn the tables here. We can use their own virus against them, Reagan. You have no idea what sort of things these people are willing to do. They’ve already started poisoning colonies of survivors across the world, trying to use them as an experiment for their new virus. There are new creatures that they call Undying. You saw some of them here, in the hallway you set on fire. Their bodies are immune to bacteria, so they don’t decay the way the original creatures did. I’ve even heard there’s a strain of the virus that can infect the unborn. Women are being murdered from the inside out by their own fetuses.” Covington was animated as he sat across from Reagan. He pounded his finger on the table as he tried to appeal to his old friend. “I want you to help me fight these bastards. I need your help. Will you stand with me, Charles. Will you fight?”

Reagan watched as Billy finally convinced his torturer to help
him over to the wall. He had been pleading with Dean the entire time Reagan had been watching, begging for the soldier to show mercy and help him sit up. Dean finally relented, and Reagan was ready for what he hoped was coming next.

“I’m not one to back down from a fight,” said Reagan.

“Good!” Covington grinned and clapped. “You don’t know how happy you’ve made me.”

Reagan watched
Dean help Billy sit up. Dean dragged Billy to the wall to support his back.

“
I miss my son,” said Reagan. “Seeing you sitting there reminds me how much my family meant to me.  There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them.”

“Good,” said Covington. “I’ve always thought of you as a brother, Reagan. I want you by my side in this fight.”

“You just made one mistake though, Dick,” said Reagan.

He watched as Billy
attacked his torturer. Whether he had feigned his injury or had fought past it, Billy wasn’t going down without a fight, just like Reagan had hoped.

“What’s that?” asked Covington, oblivious to what was happening on the tablet’s screen.

“You didn’t realize the two boys you’ve been torturing are like sons to me now.” Reagan launched himself off his stool like a predator through the weeds, exploding over the table and grasping Covington’s head. He thrust the man’s face into the table with such force that the black epoxy surface cracked.

Covington slumped to the floor,
his face bloodied. He was unconscious.

Reagan glanced at the door, worried that soldiers would come running, but no one appeared. Covington had said the bracelet he wore monitored him, and Reagan hoped that if the general just suddenly fell asleep, no one would be alerted to anything. It seemed he was right.
He went to the door and spun the wheel that caused it to lock. He had work to do.

*   *   *

August 24
th
, 20 years after the apocalypse

Hero is in the transfer facility, underneath the cabin.

Hero watched as William ran back and forth between lab stations, operating a slew of machinery testing samples of Beatrice’s blood. He was working to save himself, as well as Hero, both of whom had been infected with the virus that created the super-virus that The Electorate had hoped to unleash.