Salvation: Secret Apocalypse Book 5 (A Secret Apocalypse Story) (4 page)

“But the Lockdown,” he says. “The Code Black. The outbreak. You should
not have been able to get in. Not after the Lockdown. No one gets in. No one
gets out.”

I’ve been thinking about this. I’ve been thinking about this a lot. And
the more I think about it, the more I realize that someone let us in on
purpose.

They
wanted
us to come in.

Was it General Spears? Did he let us in on purpose?

Or was it the man in the gas mask?

I don’t know. I doubt I’ll ever know. But I do know this. We were
allowed to come in. Someone, somewhere, pushed a button and let us into the
Fortress.

George is still confused. “But what were you doing in the middle of the
desert to begin with? We’re in the absolute middle of nowhere. What the hell
were you doing?”

“We were looking for our friends,” I say.

“You’re kidding, right?” he asks, completely dumbfounded.

I shake my head. “I wish I was.”

“It was suicide coming out here.”

“Maybe. But we had no other choice. We were already stranded. The
infected are everywhere. The towns and the cities are completely overrun. The
Oz virus has spread from coast to coast. So we made our choice.”

And we’ll live and die with the consequences.

Kim throws up some more black vomit.

I turn my attention back to Kim and I need to ask her more questions
because I need answers. I feel bad for interrogating her but I have no choice.

“Where is Jack?” I ask.

Kim wipes her mouth. She is breathing hard.

When Maria and I first asked her this question, she gave us some
bullshit answer about how Jack was fine and that we would be able to see him
soon. She told us not to worry. She told us everything would be all right. The
way she talked, it was almost like she had been brainwashed. Now that I look
back, it was obvious that she was scared. Scared of General Spears. Scared of
what he might do if she did anything that he might not approve of.

Scared of not following orders, the chain of command.

I can’t blame her. I’d be scared as well. General Spears had turned
himself into a monster. He had lost his mind. He was dangerous and powerful and
downright terrifying.

Kim is silent. She doesn’t want to answer me.

“The General is dead,” I say. “He can’t hurt you.”

“Are you sure about that?” she whispers.

“Sure about what?”

“Are you sure he’s dead? Did you see his body?”

“No, but...”

“But what? You don’t know for sure. You can’t guarantee my safety. You
can’t guarantee anyone’s safety.”

“I didn’t say that I could guarantee anyone’s safety. I know we’re in a
tough spot...”

“You don’t know that he’s dead,” Kim says. “You don’t know a goddamn
thing. You don’t. I was dead. I was dead and they brought me back.”

Kim is still afraid of General Spears.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask.

“The injections. The nano-virus. You were right. I did have skin cancer.
It had spread. I was dying. I was terminal. And they saved me. It was a
miracle. They just saved me. Like they were gods. I owe them my life.”

“You don’t owe them anything,” I say. “These people, these doctors,
they...”

“They saved me,” she whispers. “They are gods. They are immortal and you
can’t touch them. You can’t kill them.”

Kim’s eyes are closed and I get the feeling that she is delirious.

“Where is Jack?” I ask again.

“Just tell her,” George says. “There’s no point in hiding it. There’s no
point in lying.”

“What the hell is he talking about?” I say. “What the hell is he
saying?”

It was the way he said it. Like it just needed to be over and done with.

Get it over with.

Just tell her.

Rip it off.

Like a band aid.

Get it over and done with so she can start the grieving process.

“Is Jack dead?” I ask. “Tell me!”

“No,” Kim says. “My brother is not dead. I wouldn’t let them kill him.
We made a deal.”

“So where the hell is he? What the hell happened?”

“Prison,” she says while staring into the waste basket full of black
vomit. “They threw him into the prison.”

“What prison?” I ask. “What are you talking about?”

No answer from Kim.

“Like I said, there is a prison facility down here,” George says. “Two
actually. A military prison and a civilian prison. And I am the warden.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Kim whispers. “I was looking for Jack. I was
trying to find him. Trying to find out what prison they put him in, what cell.”

George is typing furiously on the keyboard. “And I’m getting the info. I
just need time. The General shut down all the servers.”

Kim throws up again and it is loud and violent and it honestly sounds
like she is dying.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Kim? Why are you so sick?”

She wipes her mouth again. “I need medicine. NVX. There is some in the
sick bay. I know there is. They were using it. Testing it on the prisoners.”

“Testing on prisoners? What are you saying?”

“Please,” she says, “You need to help me. I can get Jack. I can help
find Maria. But I need these meds.”

“What meds?” I ask. “What is it? What the hell is NVX?”

But Kim cannot answer me. She is unconscious. I lean forward and check
her pulse. It is rapid. It is so fast and so faint, I can barely feel it.

I turn to George. “What is she talking about? What is NVX?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he says. “It’s an experimental nano-virus. They gave
it to her. It cured her. And now she is hooked. Now she needs regular
injections or her body will go into withdrawals. Violent withdrawals.”

“Can they be fatal?”

“Yes.”

Withdrawal symptoms. Just like the
Evo
Agent
who shared our shipping container cell with Maria and me. I realize it’s the
same thing. I realize that Kim is experiencing what that soldier experienced
and that this whole process does not have a happy ending.

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” George says. “But she’s
probably not going to make it.”

“What?”

“Look at her. This is bad. I’ve seen this before.”

“You’ve seen it?”

He stops typing. “They experimented on the prisoners here. They would
give them injections. They would monitor their symptoms. They would run all
sorts of tests on them. Physical tests. Mental tests. Everything. And they
would also observe what happened when they stopped the injections. Cold turkey
so to speak.”

“They did this here? In this prison? And you let them?”

“Like I had a choice. I might be the warden, but this is a military
installation. I follow orders just like everybody else. When the military says
they are going to use the prisoners, their own employees, their own soldiers as
test subjects, I don’t get a say in the matter. And if I did say something, if
I showed even the slightest bit of dissent, I would not be here right now.”

“This place is hell,” I say. “You people are sick. You make me sick.”

“I was following orders! There was nothing I could do. It was going to
happen no matter what. And it wasn’t even a bad thing. NVX is supposed to help
people. It saved Kim’s life for crying out loud.”

“And the side effects?” I ask, cutting him off.

“They’re manageable. It’s no different from any other drug.”

“No different? Have you seen the nano-virus in the real world? Have you
seen a nano-swarm?”

George is silent. He might not have seen one, but he’s definitely heard
the horror stories.

“Well, have you seen one?” I ask.

“No.”

“It’s a mechanical plague. They eat everything. And I mean
everything
. They are programmed to hunt
and kill. Search and destroy.”

“It does other things,” George says. “It has to. I mean, it saved Kim.
It killed the cancer.”

“Exactly. It
killed
the
cancer.”

“Whatever. I don’t have to listen to you give me a lecture on the moral
high ground. This shit, all the stuff that happened down here, it was inevitable.
There was no stopping it. We can’t go back in time. We can’t change a thing. We
just have to suck it up and deal with it. Stop judging me. I had no say in the
matter. I’m the warden for crying out loud. I’m not a doctor. I’m not a
research scientist. I’m the guy who makes sure this place is safe and secure
for the prisoners. I make sure this place runs as smoothly as possible.”

I am angry and I want to punch George in the face or punch the wall. I
want to hit someone or something. But I don’t say a thing and I resist the urge
to say... “Well, you did a sucky job of running this place because it’s about
as safe as a kiddie sized swimming pool full of great white sharks and it’s not
running at all.”

But I don’t say this.

George has a point.

The bad men were going to do bad things no matter what. They were going
to do evil, stupid, reckless things. There is nothing we can do to change that.

We just have to suck it up and deal with it.

So that’s what I’m going to do.

I am going to suck it up.

I am going to deal with this.

“Do you know where the sick bay is?” I ask George.

“Yeah.”

“Where is it?

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “It’s between a rock and a
hard place.”

A rock and a hard place.

Here we go.

Time to risk my life.

For food.

For water.

For medicine.

Not that I care about risking my life. Not for Kim.

It’s a worthwhile cause. As worthwhile as any other.

She was my friend. We had been through hell together. Drifted off into
the Pacific Ocean together. And I still feel guilty about leaving her behind in
that lonely New Zealand quarantine facility. I know it worked out for the best.
But I still feel like I abandoned her. I feel like I could’ve done more.

So I’m going to make it up to her.

I’m going to get her goddamn meds and she’s going to be fine and we’re
going to help each other get out of this prison.

“I don’t care if it’s between a rock and a hard place,” I say to George.
“Just show me where the sick bay is.”

George is still sitting behind the computer, tapping away on the
keyboard. “I’m trying. I need a minute.”

“I don’t know if we have that long.”

My watch starts beeping, reminding me that time is running out. And Kim
coughs. And George is tapping on the keyboard. And my heart thumps in my chest.
And my watch beeps.

We don’t have time to waste.

The tapping of the keyboard stops.

“Oh no,” George whispers.

“What is it?”

“He’s here. What is he doing here?”

“Who the hell are you talking about?”

George points at the computer screen. “Look.”

I move behind the desk to see what he is pointing at.

It is the man in the gas mask.

The computer screen is showing security camera footage of the corridors,
and a few of the interrogation rooms, and a few of the holding cells. George
presses a few keys and types in a few commands. He brings the view of the
corridor full screen.

The man in the gas mask is walking down the corridor. He drags and scrapes
a machete along the walls of the corridor and along the doors of the holding
cells.

“Is he outside?” I ask.

George nods.

“Right outside?”

“Yes.”

The man in the gas mask steps to the door. I see his shadow underneath
the door frame. I look back at the CCTV footage. He is just standing there. He
is just outside. Right outside.

Looking at the door. Looking
through
the door.

“Can he get in here?” I ask.

“No. It’s locked. Dead locked. Bolted. He can’t get in.”

The man in the gas mask swings his machete and it sticks into the wooden
door.

The noise makes me flinch and I take a very large step back, moving
away, moving towards the back of the room.

The man in the gas mask then starts carving something into the door.

Another message.

He moves back.

He looks up at the security camera and he points down the corridor.

“What’s he doing?” I ask. “What is he pointing at?”

“I don’t know,” George answers. “I think he’s pointing at the holding
cells.”

He continues carving a message into the door frame.

The noise is incredibly loud and unnerving. The scratching of metal on
wood. Fingernails on a chalkboard. It’s like the noise is being amplified into
the small space of the office. The noise fills the room.

George stands up, knocking his chair over. “I’ll do it! I swear. I just
need time!”

The man in the gas mask finishes up his message. He then disappears back
down the corridor and moves out of sight. Like a ghost. But he’s not a ghost.
He is real. He is a real goddamn psychopath.

He is torturing me. And us. He is breaking us down mentally and
emotionally.

Waiting for us to crack.

Why? What the hell for?

Who the hell is this guy?

George picks up his chair and sits back down. He buries his head in his
hands. For a second, I think he is going to break down right then and there and
start crying. But he doesn’t. He keeps it together.

He begins typing again, controlling the security camera in the corridor.
He zooms in on the door. Zooms in on the message that the man in the gas mask
carved with his machete.

The message reads:

I dreamt of
freedom,

and
about a world on fire.

The old Empires
fall.

“He’s crazy,” I say. “Are you sure he can’t get in here?”

“No. He can’t get in. Not unless he gets an axe or something. Or a
machine gun.”

This does not make me feel very safe at all.

“What were you talking about?” I ask. “Were you talking to him? What are
you going to do? What needs time?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?”

I was about to grill him, cross examine him, interrogate him and get
some goddamn answers, but Kim grabs my leg. Her eyes are barely open. Barely
focused. She is so pale. Her lips are cracked and caked in black vomit.

“I need my meds,” she whispers. “I need the nano-virus. NVX. I need it.
Or I am going to die.”