Monster of the Apocalypse (13 page)

My part was to oversee the final delivery system. A man I had known well had met with an undefined accident. His subordinates could not fill his position adequately, so I was called in. I was seduced by my coconspirators, and without a second thought I dove right in.”

Deo shifted uncomfortably in his chair. By now he was hooked, but he had something that needed attention.

“Listen, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have to pee.” He stood up and walked to the corner of the building. “Be right back.”

Eleon didn’t mind. It gave him time to think. He spied on Lecti out of the corner of his eye. She sat in her chair with her elbows on her knees, her face covered by her hands. Eleon didn’t know what to think, but it was too late now. Deo returned, sat without a sound, and he resumed.

“Some of the conversations we had, they were unbelievable. Not just how to deliver the plague that was already developed, but where and when and who to target and who should survive and, well, just about everything you might imagine. It took an additional three years. They were that close before they required me and my special abilities. They even had a backup plan in case something went wrong.’

“The Interstate 80 corridor through the middle of the country and several tributaries from Florida, Texas, the northwest, and several agricultural communities came down with a short term ‘illness.’ It stumped doctors and was gone before any serious investigation could be instituted. The affliction was actually a vaccine delivered through bottled water. It inoculated the residents with antibodies that prevented them from contracting our engineered disease. It’s amazing what money could do.’

“We made our first release in the Mediterranean. There were several European and Middle Eastern scientists and several of the wealthy elite from the targeted areas in our group. They protected their families, and some of the social elite that were not involved, and to hell with the rest.’

“The second release targeted Indonesia. The disease spread. It was engineered to be contagious for some weeks before it showed symptoms or became terminal. The island my family and I were on, and some other facilities, were equipped with airtight bunkers in case our engineered contagion mutated. As the epidemic spread, everyone was glad that we were inoculated and safe. As people started to die in numbers, the public started to panic.’

“Then something happened that was not foreseen. A second plague appeared. It wasn’t ours. We got samples from people that we had protected from our disease. They died.
All of them. We never found out who released it, the new contagion. We just knew it wasn’t a mutated strain of our disease. The pathology was wrong. It might have been any number of countries or even a terrorist organization. It was all speculation.’

“Each pestilence created an epidemic of its own. They raged through the continents of Europe and Asia and decimated Africa in weeks. The airlines were shut down when the second plague was identified. The first epidemic was busy working its way through North America, and it seemed that the antibodies were working well. Of course someone fleeing the devastation overseas found a way to gain our shores.
Probably several people. Protected people started to die. The roads were shut down within our own country. People found ways around the roadblocks. A third contagion appeared. This one was localized. The nucleus appeared to be Salt Lake City. The disease seemed to be just as selective as our own. Before it spread, within a few days of its discovery, the military tried to contain it with a nuclear device. It was either too late or the explosive scattered the virus.’

“We had retreated into the sealed bunkers early on, but our plan fell apart completely. Several people in our own bunker decided to leave. They panicked. A fight broke out within the armed security force, and an explosion penetrated the seal. We were on an island, but it was not
long before we were infected. I personally examined each body as it was brought in. The security personnel that stayed behind showed such courage. They cared for everyone as well as they could, as they themselves were dying. My wife died from the second plague. I determined it myself. My daughter and my son died from the third. By the time I got my results, I was the only one alive on the island.”

E
leon’s story was a lot to swallow. Deo didn’t know what to think. In his young life he only had the experiences of an empty world. Empty of human beings. Roseburg was the only place that he could really say was well populated, even though there were empty houses everywhere. Roseburg was his normal. Intellectually he knew there were many more people at one time, not so long ago. As they traveled, he and Lecti met people. They met Toshi. Over the summer of their wandering and the ensuing winter where they had holed up in a town called Placerville, they must have encountered thirty people, more or less. He did not realize that southern Oregon and northern California, the path they traveled, had before the plagues contained close to seventy million human beings. The remains he saw and avoided had meant nothing to him. Now, after listening to Eleon’s story, they became real.

Shoulders shaking with emotion, Lecti cried as silently as she could. She cried for the families that were no more, the children that never grew up. She cried for the world. She cried for Eleon. She cried for her father, her mother, her brother, and herself.

She cried for the child her mother never bore.

Well, Eleon thought, it’s done. The kids now knew his story. Not the whole story, they would never know the whole story. Hopefully as time went on, they would pass it on to their children, and it would become a legend of what kind of mistakes the past generations had made. Would that help? Eleon doubted it. His experience made it difficult to believe that people could learn from the past. Any few individuals that would rise to the surface would also be engulfed by the stupidity and ignorance of the masses. Either that or fall prey to power and greed.

Eleon left Lecti weeping in her chair under the stars and Deo remembering all the bodies. Neither one spoke to him. He picked up his bag and removed himself to the back of the store. He knew better than to bed down too closely tonight. He was correct. The kids appreciated the distance, even if it was subconsciously.

The late evening and the grim narrative wore on the sleepers. As usual, Eleon slept little and was up early. As he left the carpet store in the morning, he stepped lightly, trying not to disturb the young people. He actually felt pretty good. It was strange that sharing a burden lightened his load so much, while he hoped only slightly weighing down his two listeners. He expected the weight would be temporary. Looking up the street, then down, he considered his options and went for a walk.

The wind picked up. Fine sand began to explore the cracks and crevices of the buildings and continued to fill the streets and alleys. As the gusts gathered strength the tumbleweeds started to roll. Some became stuck to others that were already glued together in doorways or against fences. The wind drove them everywhere.

A motorcycle with two riders made its way into town from south 95. As the blasts peppered them with grit, they moved slowly through the outskirts and unwaveringly targeted a storefront.

Zip was having a lousy day. Ever since they had left Carson, he and Cotton were having trouble in one way or another. Cotton had picked a fight with him over the bitch, Toshi. He had tried to stop Zip from beating her, in a halfhearted way. When Toshi continued berating and laughing at Zip, then started in on him, Cotton had left the room. Toshi was bored and horny and wanted some excitement. When Cotton returned, it appeared that Toshi had been bored to death. Cotton didn’t even bother to check.

When they got to Fallon, Cotton had unloaded on Zip. He didn’t care about Toshi’s death, only that she would have been sexually available to both of them as they traveled. Eventually she would have kept her mouth in check with the proper incentives. He would have made sure of that, even if Zip had not. But now she was dead, and Cotton was frustrated.

The motorcycle that Zip rode started to act up as they drove south on the rough road next to Walker Lake. The shaking loosened something critical. After spending the night and scavenging the parts store, Zip had messed with the wiring and batteries and decided to trust his lacking mechanical skills. Before they got to the junction to Gabbs, the bike lost its charge completely and died. They spent the rest of the day trying to resuscitate it. The sun was out, and the batteries seemed good, but nothing they tried worked. After an afternoon of cursing and waiting for his water to run out, Zip pushed the bike over angrily and told Cotton that they would backtrack and find other wheels.

Before they pulled into town, Zip made a decision. If no suitable ride could be found, he would take Cotton’s bike for his own. Cotton and he had trailed together for a long time, but he had no intention of getting sentimental over it. Since he felt this way about Cotton, he expected Cotton to feel the same way about him.

Strangely enough, Cotton was concerned for Zip. Cotton was loyal to the partnership. If they could not find a vehicle for Zip, he was perfectly content with the idea of sharing his ride all the way to Vegas. He knew that in this desert heat the motorcycle would be working hard and might break down. The bike was well used and originally designed for light use. But he was confident in the abilities of the team. He and Zip would make it somehow.

The convenience store next to the parts business offered a refill on their depleted water. A pack of stale chips was worth considering as well.

Tracks in the sand outside were quickly being obscured by the wind but still slightly visible, were ignored. They would only be in the store long enough to get water and whatever else quickly appealed to them.

Hands full, Zip and Cotton started for the door. The interior they walked through was dimmed by the dirty windows and the overcast day. Dust stirred at their feet.

Suddenly out of a dark corner, someone spoke. “Hold up guys, we need to talk.”

Cotton stiffened and froze. Zip dropped his case of water and spun around, reaching for his pistol. He froze as he realized a shotgun was leveled at his stomach. His gaze rose to meet the eyes of the weapon’s owner. As the stranger emerged from the shadow, Zip realized that it was the man they had parted with in Carson. The old man did not look happy.

When Lecti woke, Deo was sitting up already. They did their morning routine and, as they prepared a morning snack, they began to discuss the previous evening.

Lecti, though she was very young at the time, remembered the women that died in childbirth right after their father led them to Roseburg. As she grew she questioned her father about having babies and expressed her fear. As many women were dying as were surviving. Her father had tried to reassure her that there were no multiple births on either side of her family.

He took Lecti to speak with the midwife that was frantically assisting these doomed pregnancies. The old woman was amazing. Her knowledge was enormous. She did not care about the politics of medicine or about the genetic abnormality that produced multiple births. She did, however, curse the doctors of the past and the normalizing of caesarean birth. She cared most about the babies and their mothers, and the guilt of her failures weighed heavily on her.
             

That part of Eleon’s story checked out. Lecti’s father had inadvertently corroborated part of the tale.

Both Lecti and Deo had seen functioning robots. They were complex machines that gradually broke down, and by the time they escaped Roseburg few functioning units survived. By swapping the information that they shared, they reinforced their trust in Eleon’s confession. They just didn’t know how to feel about it.

It was getting late. Lecti and Deo were getting anxious, though for different reasons. Deo wanted to get on the road. He didn’t mean to sleep late, but he had and was now ready to take up the chase. Lecti wondered where Eleon was. His bike was sitting outside. At first she thought that Eleon was just out to relieve himself.
As time went by it seemed more likely that he was scavenging or maybe even out for a stroll. He liked to take a walk before he spent time on his bike.

Deo got up and, opening the door to look up and down the street, wondered aloud that they should go looking for their missing companion. Lecti agreed.

As they stepped out into the wind, they heard a muffled shotgun blast.

H
al fumed as Lecti stormed from the building. He berated himself for not being able to come up with a way to keep her. He had…things…he wanted to do. Once again he considered turning the dogs loose and once again thought better of it. Climbing to the top of the road grader just off the patio, Hal watched as she and Deo disappeared down Arrowhead Drive, heading east.

Waiting for Hal to come back in, Hey You agonized over the sibling
s’ departure. She wanted to catch up with them now that they were leaving. As soon as Hal came inside, he returned to the room Lecti had just left. Hey You slipped down the stairs and out the door. She shushed the dogs and ordered them to lie down and stay. They obeyed her better than they obeyed Hal. Hurrying, she ran away from her fear and into her future.

Her plan did not work out. After watching the brother and sister scream past her in the vehicle, she paused. They had come back into town once. They might do it again. Realizing that Lecti and Deo were truly gone took only a short time, however. Walking back to the hospital would take a while and give her a chance to think.

It was mid-afternoon by the time Hey You returned. She slipped back into her home, her prison, without Hal realizing she’d been gone. The dogs knew she was coming and they stayed down, keeping the alarm from triggering.

Hal was occupied with several things. He always had a project or two that needed his attention. Noticing the weeds that were starting to grow in the dirt around his fortifications, he determined to remedy their encroachment. Sometimes he sprayed, but he didn’t like to. Afraid the spray could rise and damage his
garden, Hal thought that it was better to till the soil. Besides, it was comforting to his sense of well-being. Whenever he got on his little tractor, he felt good. He often thought he should have been a farmer.

The tractor ran on biofuel. Hal learned to make it precisely because he wanted to run the tractor. Keeping the machine behind the building in a shed with a sloped floor, he learned to start it by compression. The tractor’s battery and starter motor were largely unnecessary once Hal perfected a compression start. Working the ground, the tractor hummed along. It was a good machine, and Hal also started to hum. Hal started to think about Lecti…and then for some reason, he started to think about Hey You.

Watching and reflecting, Hey You vacillated once more. As she walked back from failing to approach the siblings, she made up her mind to finally deal with Hal. She knew that unless she was willing to leave, alone, she would have to kill him or live in fear. Hey You knew that she was in terrible danger. She knew, but now she was afraid of being alone if she killed him.

Hal drove the tractor, a pleasant smile on his face, a song on his lips. He loved the old
machine and enjoyed the smell of newly turned earth. He was only scratching the surface. Hal didn’t want to damage the soil, only get rid of the weeds. After a while in the hot sun, he aimed the machine at a small hill that would allow him to restart it by compression once more. Setting the brake, he stepped down and ambled through the pure scent of earth beneath his feet. He was thirsty, and he couldn’t wait to open a juice. He had several good ones left.

Lilly broke from cover just as he crossed the midpoint on his return. How she had gotten off her lead was puzzling, but Hal was more concerned with the situation he was in. The last time Lilly was off her lead in this space, she was playing her deadly game with a human toy. Hal carried no weapon. Though he was usually armed whenever he went scavenging, he had gotten careless about it when close to home. He silently swore under his breath.

The dog sat in front of him, well out of reach, her ears pricked, her eyes locked with his. Hal knew that posture to be a signal of danger. She was reading him, waiting for him to run. He almost succumbed to the urge. There was a knife on the tractor, but Hal knew he would never reach it. His best bet was to face the dog down and act like he was in command. He started forward, trying to mask his terror.

Taking her time, Lilly backed off and sat again. She knew the man was frightened. She was familiar with the wonderful odor of fear. Again, and then again, she rose and retreated, then sat and played coy.

Wishful thinking encouraged Hal. He began to believe that he must have mistaken Lilly’s intent. She was just being playful. Hal started to move more confidently. His strategy was working. He was gaining the ground to safety and started to congratulate himself.

It was time. As the space closed between Hal and the road-grader, Lilly established the final place to turn and reposition herself. She bunched herself in anticipation.

Hal thought she was readying herself to move back again. As she launched, he had no time to turn and run.

Watching was too difficult for Hey You. After Lilly had taken Hal to the ground the first time, she turned away.

Lecti’s pistol still lay next to Hal’s Uzi. She picked it up and weighed it in her palm. It felt good, a heavy but not unwieldy weapon. Sitting inside the door with Bregor on the floor beside her, she waited just in case Hal by some miracle escaped Lilly’s attentions.

The sky was dark before Hey You got to her feet and went to get something to eat. Bregor padded beside her and received a cup of kibble from the dog food bin. He rarely got to stay inside for any amount of time. It was spring, and too warm to be brought in. Puzzled but content, he lay at his preferred master’s feet.

Even though Hey You had spent time training Lilly, she didn’t trust her. Recognizing that the Dobie was not dependable, in fact dangerous, she had made the decision to rid herself of the dog. The simple solution was to let the animal wander off. Without food, Hey You was reasonably sure it wouldn’t take long.

Lilly was hungry. She normally got fed along with Bregor, and it was always before dark. Pacing back and forth, she whined and scratched at the door. Before she lay down in front of the door for the night, she went back to Hal a couple times and licked his face. The blood tasted good, but she was used to having her meal cooked or at least mixed with dog food. She knew nothing of preparing her kill. Someone had always done it for her.

Lilly hung around for one more night before she got hungry enough to start searching for food. She knew the girl and the male dog were in the building. What she did not know was why she was not being fed. The blood on Hal was all gone by the first morning, and even though she took some tentative nibbles around the puncture wounds and gashes, she avoided any more damage. Maybe she had made a mistake. Hal was the provider. She got hungrier, and after the second night without food, a light scent on a random breeze enticed her to investigate.

Looking out of the windows, Hey You noted that Lilly was absent. At least she was not visible. Hey
You wondered if Lilly was lying in wait or was out looking for something to eat. She was surprised that Lilly had not started to eat Hal. He was getting ripe and would soon start to decompose quickly. Hey You didn’t realize that most dogs needed to be taught to eat their kills. It was rare that a domestic dog would figure it out.

Hey
You stepped out, commanding Bregor to stay behind. She moved cautiously toward the grader and mounted it to look around. No dog in sight. Carrying the pistol and being cautious, she crossed the dirt to the ancient tractor.

The old piece of equipment had a small loader bucket. Starting the tractor on the juice accumulated in the battery by Hal’s use, Hey You waited to let it warm up. Hal always insisted that it be warmed up.

Soon Hal was in the bucket and being bounced across the field and around the building. The graveyard with the new dirt was bypassed and his body found a resting place in the gully with his last victims. Hey You pushed some dirt over the remains before she parked the tractor back in its shed. It was more than Hal would have done.