Reset (Book 2): Salvation (4 page)

“He wasn’t.”

“You know that. I know that. I’m going to delete …”

“No.”

“Listen. I am going to delete them. I suggest you do the same. But I will make copies. I will have it here for you with your name on the envelope. It will be in your dad’s bottom draw. If you can get here.”

“I’ll try.”

That was the last time he spoke to Walter. He didn’t know it, but Walter was sick.

For a teenage boy, it was like some sort of spy movie.

He felt guilty about carrying the knowledge, but by the time he convinced his mother to let him show her what he was talking about, the files were gone. Even the ones he’d copied.

Did she know? She didn’t want to hear that Malcolm was alive and someone took him.

Trey tried to get to Cleveland, but they started quarantining it and an exodus began.

The envelope, if it existed, would never be found. At least not by Trey. The world was falling apart, torn asunder by a virus, and the knowledge wouldn’t help anyhow. Everyone would be too busy dying to listen.

Trey knew. He always knew.

The return of his father was the final confirmation. Now with the president’s arrival and his father being locked down under some sort of suspicion, he hoped that reunion wouldn’t be short lived.

<><><><>

John was without a doubt stoned. He didn’t mean to get that way. However, the medicinal marijuana given to him by Rusty proved pretty potent and after only a few puffs of the pipe, John was mentally history.

He felt one hundred percent physically better and mentally, he was thinking clearly.

Meredith said he was stoned and she was getting there by contact. She didn’t want to be the one to drive, but she also didn’t want John manning the buggy under the influence.

They had driven for hours. After leaving Rusty, they stayed the course, breaking only to eat and for John to indulge. The roads disappeared and navigation grew difficult. Meredith continued on, despite something inside of her that told her things were off.

They were supposed to head east to avoid trouble.

“If you can believe it,” John said. “I never tried the marijuana before today.”

“If you hadn’t said it that way, I wouldn’t have believed it. I do now.”

“What?” John asked then laughed.

“Never mind.”

“Have you ever?” John asked.

“Have I ever what?”

“Smoked the marijuana?”

Meredith laughed. “Yes. I have smoked
the
marijuana. Actually I was and occasionally am quite the pot head.”

John extended the pipe to her.

“No thank you, I really want to concentrate on driving.”

Meredith knew it was going to take all of her focus. After all, it wasn’t the world before she went into stasis. There was no clear view of the road. Gone were the lines. Trees and large bushes had grown on to the road. She could have been on the edge for all she knew, ready to go over a mountain. She just couldn’t tell.

But as she peered ahead, thinking about where they’d stop for the night, looking out for the best place, the green suddenly stopped.

It reminded her of just before they were attacked. How everything looked dead. “John?” She called his name with concern.

“Hmm?”

“I think we went off course.”

John looked up. “Shit. Turn around. We don’t need another Wrecker experience.”

“I could not agree more.” Meredith slowed down the buggy until it came to a complete halt. Just as she placed her hand on the gearshift, her heart dropped to her stomach when a lone Wrecker emerged from the dry brush.

“It’s just one. Only one.” John said. “We can beat just one.”

“Let’s not take that chance.” As Meredith started to reverse, the Wrecker cried out. It sounded like a cry for attention. The Wrecker held out his hands, palms outward.

Meredith stopped.

“What are you doing?” John asked.

“Why is he doing that,” she said. “He wants us to stop.”

“It’s a trap.”

Again, the Wrecker cried out, only this time, he dropped to his knees. His call had an agonizing tone to it, almost begging. Hands still up in surrender, his head lowered. When he did, from the side of the road a female Wrecker emerged. In her arms, was the lifeless body of what could only be a child.

The female cried out as well. Meredith put the buggy in park.

“What are you doing?” John asked demandingly. “Meredith?”

“They can’t all be bad.” She said softly.

“Uh, yeah, they can.”

Meredith stepped from the car.

“Stop.” John warned. “I won’t save you this time.”

Meredith looked over her shoulder. “You didn’t last time.”

“Bull.” John grunted.

She could hear his frustration. But Meredith also saw desperation in the mutated beings before her. A mother, a male who was the father perhaps, with their sick or injured child. The male lifted his head and the woman rushed to Meredith with the child in her arms.

“Is he sick?” Meredith asked. “Hurt.” It was hard for Meredith to tell. She didn’t know what the Wreckers normally looked like, so it was difficult to judge if the child was.

The female Wrecker grunted, face wet from tears and held the child out some as if to say, ‘Look’.

Hand trembling, Meredith reached out. The child was small. Maybe three or four years old. Her hand touched on the child’s face. Immediately, she pulled back and curled her fingers into a fist. “He’s fevered.” After a second, Meredith took another look. It was a boy. Again, she felt his hot skin, then held up a finger to the mother to convey ‘give me a second’.

Slowly Meredith spoke. She knew they didn’t understand her. “I have to go back to the buggy. I have a medical bag.” Meredith stepped back.

The female Wrecker grabbed her arm with pleading eyes.

“I’ll be back,” Meredith said. “I ...” She exhaled. “Okay. Let me see if John will bring it.” She didn’t want to ask John. She understood his apprehension. Meredith was also feeling it. But what if these Wreckers were different? What if they really needed help? And the ones a hundred miles away on the cusp of the wastelands were the bad ones. Could she take that chance? She was going to yell back. Obviously the Wrecker woman didn’t want her to leave. As if the Wrecker knew or felt somehow Meredith could help her. When she looked over her shoulder to call for him, he was already one step ahead.

John, carrying the medical bag, walked toward Meredith. “Call me a fool,” he said. “I wouldn’t do this if I weren’t stoned.”

“Yes, you would.” Meredith took the bag.

“Yeah well the big guy just stood up.”

Meredith watched the male Wrecker stand by the female. She showed the bag to the mother. After pointing to the bag, Meredith then pointed to the child. “It’s to help him.” She nodded. “Ok?”

The female Wrecker understood and released a sound that could only be described as a sob of gratefulness. She gave a single clutch to Meredith’s arm, turned to the male and handed him the child. The child was still, he didn’t move and the male walked off the road toward the brush.

The female Wrecker gently took Meredith’s arm and waved her to ‘come’.

“Oh,” John said. “They want us to join them. How wonderful.”

After giving John a scolding look, Meredith walked with the female Wrecker, leaving it up to John whether he followed or not. She was certain he would. John had just proved he was a lot softer than he let on.

So this is it? This is where I end?
Those were Malcolm’s thoughts as he sat in that room for hours, a hospital room that looked more like a dormitory that had the windows sealed off. Medical workers in Hazmat suits brought him broth and a cup of coffee. It wasn’t bad, considering Malcolm used to love his coffee. But what choice did he have? No one would talk to him at all. They had taken a lot of blood from him; he could only guess what that was about.

Finally after all day being alone, not hearing from Trey, being in essence a leper, someone finally came in. She didn’t wear protective clothing or a facemask. She was an attractive woman, young, about thirty, wearing a dark gray uniform jumpsuit. Her dark brown hair was pulled up and tucked neatly into a bun.

“Mr. Lowe.” She extended her hand. She clutched a folder in her other arm close to her chest. “I’m Maggie Glenn, Chief Medical Officer of infectious diseases, SalCom Division Nineteen.”

Malcolm shook her hand. “SalCom?”

“I’m sorry you wouldn’t know that, Salvation Command. Will you have a seat?” She asked and pointed to the small table in the hospital room.

“Yes.” Malcolm sat.

“How are you feeling? How is the arm?”

“Better thank you.”

“I’m sorry we’ve not had you on anything but a liquid diet. The test are complex and we need very little influence.”

“I understand.”

“We’ll get you some real food once we are done. How is our coffee?”

Malcolm lifted his cup. “Not bad.”

“Not quite the ... Oh what was it back then ... Starbucks, yes?”

“Nothing really is.”

Maggie smiled. “Mr. Lowe ...”

“Call me Malcolm.”

“Malcolm. Thank you.” She said. “Malcolm, from this moment on I would like you to be one hundred percent honest with me. I’ll do the same.”

“Begging your pardon ... Chief Officer ...”

She waved out her hand. “Just Maggie will be fine.”

“Begging you pardon Maggie, but I just regained consciousness. I didn’t have a choice to be honest or dishonest.”

“That makes sense. You know the man that brought you in here is your son?”

“I do.” Malcolm nodded.

“Probably was very frightening for you.”

“Yeah, considering he was seventeen three weeks ago to me.”

“Does he know?” Maggie asked.

“I think so. But I don’t want him in any trouble, so I won’t say for certain.”

“He’s not in trouble. We are.”

Malcolm tilted his head in wonder. “I’m sorry.”

“Let me start by saying the prospect of your revival is fascinating. There were rumors about the president being in stasis, tucked away. We knew the virus was deliberately released. What we need to know if what a handful of you were ...”

“Handful?” Malcolm shook his head. “No. In our unit, our complex, there were a hundred. But it failed. Nearly everyone died.”

“Do you know ...?”

“What is the president saying? He knows more than us. Obviously.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he’s here,” Malcolm said. “He came here on his own. Didn’t say squat to any of us. Actually, we thought he was dead. He disappeared. How did he find this place?”

“Apparently, when construction began, someone left him directions to find when he woke up. Someone left him a large folder with all that happened since he was put in stasis. That’s all he told us, he’s being very obstinate. He expected to be welcomed with open arms.”

“Not with a lynch mob.”

“Exactly. But you have to understand our concern. You emerged into a world we protect from a dormant virus. A virus nearly wiped us out. They apparently saved you just in case.”

“That’s what we figured. Look.” Malcolm folded his hands on the table. “I’ll give it to you in a nutshell. If I can help you in any way I will. But none of us knew. None. One moment we hear an explosion, the next we’re waking up in this thick goo. The only one who knew was the president. Hell, we didn’t even know how much time had passed. All we knew is we were the only unit. One of the recordings stated there were twenty four.”

“Twenty four?”

Malcolm nodded.

“What recordings?”

“The ones that played in the unit or lab.”

“This was a man made virus. Do you know if they gave you a cure or vaccine?’

“The recordings said they did,” Malcolm stated. “They also said they inoculated our families. Now either that was a lie or it didn’t work.”

“It wasn’t a lie. I just believe the vaccine was faulty. It worked on some, not on all. And on some ... It ... Well ....” She paused. “Worked differently. Malcolm, do you know where the other twenty four places are.”

“No.” Malcolm shook his head.

“So you recall where your lab was? If we got a team could we go there?”

“Yeah, but the lab itself was extinguished. Burned out.”

“So any possibility of a vaccine is gone.”

“They could have it elsewhere. Only the underground lab burned out.”

“We need that vaccine.” She said. “We need to perfect it. We have been missing the mark for decades. See we know it works in a capacity. You. For example. You are immune. We have never been able to make someone immune. We need to locate it and perfect it as soon as possible.”

“Why? Isn’t everyone here immune?”

“Most are, but at least thirty percent are not. They were born here or were special circumstance. We applied herd immunity factors.”

“You mentioned we were in trouble. Is this what you’re talking about?”

Maggie nodded. “The vaccine worked three ways. Either it didn’t work, such is the case with your family. It worked, such is the case with you, or like the president, it created a walking, talking time bomb.”

“I’m confused.”

“The president is a symptomatic carrier. Meaning he will never get sick, but he can pass it on from one person to the next.”

“Like Typhoid Mary.”

“I don’t know who that is. But I know one thing. That virus we have been so diligently working to keep out?” Maggie said “Invaded Salvation when the president walked through the gates.”

<><><><>

“This is insane, you know that, right?” Jason spoke while grunting through his struggles of pulling bushes and weeds.

“I would have taken the back door,” Nora said. “But saw the roof there.”

“And that didn’t convince you to not go in this building?”

Nora paused, wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. “We just need to clear a little, then we can get in.”

“You realize not only have we been walking for hours, but we have been pulling weeds and branches just as long.”

“I know.”

“The buggy is right there.” Jason pointed. “If we go right now, we can make it to Kentucky by dark. Barely. But we have to leave right now.”

“And then what?” Nora asked.

“Nora, that neighborhood. My old neighborhood was used as a survival base for some time after the virus. We really need to look around and see if we can make it livable for us. For our group. Or at the very least, take what we can.”

“So am I right in assuming you don’t think Salvation is for us.”

“I don’t think it will be an option. If it is still there, that was a lot of years ago.”

“So you think we’re gonna have to end up starting things up ourselves.”

“I don’t know about starting things ...” Jason said. “Maybe able to get things survivable. You realize we haven’t seen a single person.”

“Maybe the others have.”

“Maybe.” Jason exhaled. “We’re gonna have to spend the night here.”

“It’ll be fine.” Nora looked at the building. “Maybe.”

“Nora.” Jason stepped to her. “I know you have this weird thing about Malcolm ...”

Nora laughed. “What?”

“Never mind. Forget I said that. But why? Why is this so important?”

“Because this was Malcolm’s business. I was hoping to grab something for him. Anything. Maybe his business cards or something to remind him of his old life. Which, by the way wasn’t that long ago. You have pictures at your house. Your rock star CD. I have nothing, and I don’t want that for Malcolm. Hell, I have been looking for bookstores for John’s work.”

“Um, bookstores were relics already when we went into stasis.”

“True. So let’s do this. Let’s find something here for him.”

Jason, hands on his hips, nodded once. “Let’s do it. But if this place sucks to sleep in we find somewhere else before it gets dark.”

“Deal.” They shook hands and both continued clearing branches that blocked the front glass doors. “You’re such a baby.”

“Me? Why?”

“So fussy about where we spend the night. Really, does it matter? Although I’d like to take a bath or a shower.”

“How about when we get back to my house, I’ll rig something up. It may not be drinkable water, but you’ll be able to get clean.”

“Really?’

“Yeah. And ...” Jason tossed the last branch exposing the broken front door. “I think we’re in. Watch out.” He grabbed a lone branch and cleared the already broken glass. He removed his flashlight from his belt and aimed it into the dark building. “This is gonna be interesting.” He took a step through. “Be careful of the glass.”

“I will.”

Once inside, Nora lit her flashlight as well. Very little daylight even made it into the building. Maybe the higher floors would have light. But below, it was dark.

Because of its location, the building was protected from flooding and didn’t suffer the harsh mold from the moisture. Not as much as other places.

The lobby was small, eight chairs off to the right of the four foot reception counter.

To the left and right of the reception area were doors, possibly leading to hallways. Behind the desk was a set of stairs.

Nora walked to the reception desk, while Jason moved to the seating area. The simple chairs reminded Jason of a doctor’s office. “Bet they have an employee lunch room. Maybe even a safe room because this is a security place.”

“Why does that matter?” Nora asked.

“Just thinking about bunking down. I don’t ...” He stopped. “Oh sweet.”

“What?’

“Bingo.” He lifted up a newspaper. “There are a bunch here and magazine. None of them much older than the date we went onto stasis.” He swung the light to look around. When he did, the beam of his light caught it. “Nora, come here.”

Nora joined him.

Jason stood center of the waiting area. His flashlight aimed at the wall and illuminated a huge memorial picture of Malcolm, with the words, ‘In Memory of’. At the bottom of the portrait were four family pictures.

“Oh wow.” Nora aimed her flashlight as well. “In memory of our founder. Malcolm A. Lowe. This must be Trey.” She indicated to the bottom right picture. “Malcolm’s oldest. Oh, his wife was beautiful wasn’t she? Is your wife pretty. Never mind, she probably was.”

“Yeah, she was hot.”

Nora snickered. “I wouldn’t think that was a Jason word. This is wonderful.” She stared. “Look how handsome Malcolm looks.”

“See.”

“See what?’

“Never mind, and don’t ask to take it. It’s too heavy.” Jason turned and walked to the reception counter. “Did you find anything over here?”

“Just undisturbed, like they closed shop one evening and never came back.”

As if double checking what Nora said, Jason reviewed the receptionist’s desk. A thick layer of green mold grew up the front, and the surface was covered in a thin layer of dust. Like many places they had been, the more sealed off a building was, the less it was harmed by time.

The complex wasn’t large, in fact it showed signs that they were new and growing. The clipboard on the receptionist’s desk contained a list of job applicant appointments.

The world was in full swing just before it fell to its knees.

Jason made it a point to collect anything newsworthy. Papers, tabloids, magazines. Unlike at the PX at Marshal, the items Jason found were closer to the date of their supposed death. There was a chance the explosion was mentioned.

“Vending machine.” Nora pointed her flashlight in the break room. “Found our sleeping spot. It’s nice in there.”

“How many employees do you think they had?”

“Not a lot of desk people. First floor was sales and techs.”

“You got all that from looking around.”

“Yeah. And the conversation Malcolm and me had when he was fixing the buggies. You were sleeping.” She headed up toward the stairs. “Malcolm’s office has to be up here.”

“Keep in mind he didn’t work here. This was just an input base for his bio cameras.”

“Which means he probably doesn’t have an office here.”

“If he did have an office, where upstairs would it be?” Jason asked. “Corner?”