Final Dawn: Season 1 (The Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Series) (32 page)

Undisclosed Location

March 12, 2038

 

A hush falls over the frantic scientists and they slow their rush, taking their places at their lab stations as a man in a suit and black tie enters the room. He walks straight up to the woman who placed the phone call, not even looking at anyone else in the room. Nervous glances are exchanged between the scientists, and the woman swallows, her gulp audible in the silence of the room.

 

“Report.”

 

The woman passes the man a clipboard with several pieces of paper, each containing a graph. “We still haven’t found the anomaly, but we’re working on it as fast as we can, sir.”

 

The man thumbs through the papers, skimming through the information. He throws the clipboard down on the table behind the woman. The sharp clap of the clipboard makes everyone in the room flinch. The man stares at the woman and she looks away, unable to hold his gaze. His facial expression is neutral, but his cold eyes have come to life. Fire rages behind them, anger barely controlled seeping through, nearly palpable to anyone who catches a glimpse.

 

“I’ll return in six hours. You have until then to give me an update, or I’ll find someone who can.”

 

Without waiting for a reply, the man turns around and leaves the room, walking out of sight down the hall, past the large windows and adjoining rooms.

 

The woman claps her hands, stirring everyone from their silence. “Let’s go, people! David, can you help me down in the receiving and processing rooms? I want to check their tank numbers against what they reported.”

 

The man who had been working with her the previous night nodded and followed her out the door. The woman mumbles as she walks. “If that jerk thinks he can scare me, he’s got another thing coming.”

 

“Susan, please be careful. You know better than to mess with Mr. Doe.”

 

“And what’s up with that name, anyway? Two years I’ve been here and everyone still calls him ‘Mr. Doe.’ Does he really think anyone believes that phony name?”

 

David and Susan exit the hallway into a large room, easily ten times the size of their lab. Large doors at the back of the room are connected to passages leading outside, where trucks make regular deliveries, backing down the passages to empty their cargo in the room. Boxes, barrels and crates are stacked near the doors, indicating that a shipment has recently arrived. Across from the doors stand large vats, connected to each other by a maze of pipes.

 

Several of the pipes from the vats connect into metal structures with clear windows on the front, along with computer screens and touch sensitive controls. Digital monitors show the construction process inside the structures, indicating temperature, percentage of foreign contamination in the raw materials and average hourly output numbers.

 

The entire room is automated, and only two technicians are present, walking around the room and verifying that everything is working as intended. Susan and David motion for the technicians to come over and they hold a whispered conversation.

 

“We need to see your intake stats for the last couple months, guys.”

 

The technicians look at each other questioningly, noticing the emblem on Susan’s lab coat that marks her as one of the few individuals in the complex who have nearly full access to everything onsite. “Sure thing; what are you looking for?”

 

Susan shook her head. “Can’t answer that, sorry.”

 

The technician points to one of the monitors on the assembly line. “This should have everything you need. Anything else, just let me know.”

 

The technicians wander off to another part of the room, whispering as they watch Susan and David work the machine, looking for any signs of foul play. Minutes pass and David jabs a finger at the screen, pointing out a series of numbers and dates.

 

“Wait, stop there. See that?” Susan stops scrolling through the information and looks to where David is pointing. For a few seconds she doesn’t realize what he means, then she looks at her clipboard, comparing the numbers to what is on the screen.

 

“No, this can’t be right. We get our numbers straight from the source, no interventions. How is this possible?”

 

Susan calls the technicians over, motioning at the screen as she interrogates them. “Who’s been monitoring this feed?” The shorter of the two technicians coughs and she turns to him, her voice bordering on anger and frustration. “A few hours ago, the numbers I reviewed in the central database showed a ten percent drop. These show that the level’s fine. When was this thing last calibrated?”

 

David taps Susan on the arm and she turns to him. “What?”

 

He says nothing, merely pointing at the screen. They watch as the numbers on the screen change, increasing and decreasing. The technicians gasp and move to the screen, but it shuts off as they touch it.

 

“Those were archive records! How could they be changing?”

 

Susan picks up the closest phone and dials the same number she did a few hours ago. “Sir, we found a source. Fabrication Echo, intake and processing. The archives’ records were being changed in real time as we watched.”

 

“Order a lockdown. I don’t want anyone in or out of the facility until the source has been traced and the violator’s been found.”

 

The line goes dead and Susan keys in a new set of numbers. Speakers overhead in the room crackle as the complex-wide speaker system is engaged. Alarm klaxons sound in the distance, signaling the closing of all doors in and out of the complex.

 

“Attention everyone, the facility is now under lockdown by the direct order of Mr. Doe until further notice.”

Leonard McComb | Rachel Walsh | Marcus Warden | Nancy Sims

9:09 AM, April 5, 2038

 

The four in the armory were quiet as the banging outside went on for hours. The creatures attacked the structure at every conceivable point, but were unable to penetrate the thick steel frame. For the first several minutes, each impact brought with it the certainty that this was the time they would break through. Once it became clear that the room was built too well to fall under such a barrage, the four began to relax, covering their ears with their hands and staring at each other. Unable to speak over the noise, they sat cross-legged in the room, hoping that the creatures would give up soon.

 

When the assault finally ended, it stopped as quickly as it had begun. With one final thud against the door, silence reigned over the armory. The four took their hands off their ears slowly, their heads aching from the onslaught.

 

Leonard was the first to speak as he stood up and rubbed his hands and head. “Ho-ley shit. Persistent little bastards, aren’t they?” Rachel, Marcus and Nancy all stood up as well, rubbing their extremities to get the blood flow restored.

 

“Are they coming back?” Nancy’s voice was full of emotion, and Marcus put an arm around her, easing her back to the ground.

 

Rachel checked the seal on the door, examining it and the rest of the room for any signs of damage. “Doesn’t look like they broke through at all. We should be safe in here for a bit, but they’ll definitely be back.”

 

Nancy began to cry softly, and Marcus wrapped his arm tighter around her, trying to offer her what little comfort he could. Rachel ignored Nancy’s crying and continued, speaking to herself more than to anyone else.

 

“Well, we’ve got air exchange, that’s good. Probably in the floor or ceiling. Must be hidden well enough that they didn’t find it.”

 

“What the hell are those things?” Nancy was beyond hysterical. She was sobbing as she sat on the floor of the armory, gasping hoarsely to get the words out.

 

Rachel looked at her, then sat down to stroke Sam’s head, ignoring the question.

 

“Something unnatural, that’s what.” Leonard responded to Nancy, speaking not just to her, but to the room and world at large. “They’re human but not, they’re changed somehow, turned into something else.”

 

Rachel looked up at him, meeting his gaze and holding it.

 

“And you. You know something about it, don’t you. Coming in here with your gun and your dog and telling us what to do. You anticipated them, outsmarted them. You know exactly what they are, don’t you?” Leonard’s voice remained calm, with a firmness about it that showed how serious he was.

 

Rachel looked down again and sighed deeply. She felt the other three staring at her expectantly, waiting to hear her reply.

 

“They’re not entirely human, you’re right. They were people, but they’ve been changed. Taken over, and augmented. They’re stronger, faster and smarter than us. Well, smarter in some ways. Not in every way. Not yet, anyway. Give them another few weeks or so and there’ll be no chance of outsmarting them.”

 

Nancy’s crying had finally stopped and the room fell silent, interrupted only by Sam’s panting, Nancy blowing her nose and the sounds of everyone breathing.

 

“What’s going on, Rachel?” Leonard stood over her, looking down. Patience was written across his face, though Rachel could sense the rage and hostility bubbling just beneath the surface. She looked to Marcus and Nancy and saw the same thing. They all wanted to hear what she had to say.

 

“I… I can’t, I’m sorry. I have a security clearance, I’m not allowed to say anything about this.”

 

“Security clearance? Bullshit!” Leonard slammed his palm into the wall, the ringing echoing through the small room. Rachel flinched and closed her eyes, but did not respond.

 

“You mean to tell me you know what’s going on here, but you won’t tell us because the
government
says you can’t? Look around, lady! In case you hadn’t noticed, the government
doesn’t fucking exist anymore!
Have you not figured that out?!”

 

Rachel gritted her teeth and stood, pushing Sam to the side as she faced Leonard. They were about the same height, standing in front of each other, just inches apart. Rachel tore into Leonard, enraged by the accusation.

 

“Fuck off, Leonard! I lost
everything
because of this mess! I lost my husband and my child! I had to listen to my daughter scream when a bomb hit! I think I’ve figured out exactly what’s going on here, so back off, asshole!” Rachel’s screams continued to echo through the chamber for several seconds after she stopped.

 

Leonard’s face slumped and he backed several inches away before turning to sit down, leaving Rachel standing in the middle of the room, wild-eyed and breathing heavily at all of them.

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” The words were quiet, soft and heartfelt as Leonard mumbled them. Rachel was stunned by the response, fully expecting to have a knock-down fight with Leonard. The simple act of respect and humility in spite of the situation broke Rachel, and she fell to the floor in tears. Sam crawled up to her, pushing his head under her arm. Leonard watched her for a moment, then slid over, sitting next to her and patting her on the back.

 

“I was in the basement when the bomb hit Atlanta. I heard my daughter scream as the door swung shut, then there was nothing. I woke up in the rubble, crawled out and everything was gone. Wiped clean, like a wet rag on a slate.”

 

Rachel stared at Leonard, unblinking as the tears poured out. “Do you know what it’s like to lose your child? To hear her scream? To know what she must be feeling and be powerless to stop it? She had her problems, sure. Every kid struggles with something. But she was the light of my life, despite everything. And I lost her and I lost my husband. I should have died with them, but I lost them.”

 

“I’m sure we’ve all lost someone we’ve loved or cared about.” Leonard looked at Marcus and Nancy as he spoke. They both lowered their heads as he continued. “The important thing is that we keep going. We can’t surrender to these things, or that silver stuff outside or any of this. We’ve got to keep going. For our families, friends, neighbors… hell, just for us as people. For your husband and your daughter.”

 

Rachel whispered. “David.”

 

Leonard stammered, but kept going. “Yes, and David, too—”

 

Rachel looked up, the tears in her eyes gone, replaced now by the faintest glimmer of hope. As she sat on the floor, listening to Leonard, she thought back past the military, past her family and back to the lab.
LV400. Laboratory Victor, Room 400. How could I be so stupid? David never called the lab by its proper name; he always had to use that stupid abbreviation.

 

Rachel fished in her pocket for the small metal box she had picked up in the military tent. The lockbox was grey, with a white stencil across the top that read
LV400
in bold lettering. Rachel pulled at the box, trying to get it open, then began to hit it against the floor in frustration.

 

“Open, dammit!”

 

Leonard produced his drill, showing it to Rachel. “Think this would help?” He was completely unsatisfied with the lack of explanations that had come from Rachel, but after her emotional outburst he was trying to ease back on hammering her for information. They weren’t going anywhere fast, after all, and he could always start questioning her again once she calmed down.

 

Rachel snatched the drill out of Leonard’s hand and went to work on the lockbox. After a few moments of loud clanging, the box popped open and Rachel held the contents aloft triumphantly, nearly squealing in delight. Inside the container, nestled in a small bed of foam padding, sat a small data stick no larger than a thumbnail. Small lettering was visible on both sides of the stick, a combination of “LV400” and “Classified Materials” repeating over and over again.

 

“I need a computer! Quick, look around, see if there’s anything in here that might have a data stick port on it. The steel room should have protected any electronics in here from the EMP! Hurry!”

 

Rachel’s nearly instant attitude shift startled Leonard, but he obliged, helping Rachel search through the stacks of equipment. He pulled out a box filled with electronics, eventually uncovering a small laptop stashed inside a satchel. He held it up for Rachel. “How about this?”

 

Grinning, Rachel snatched it up, opening the screen and going through the boot process. Days of derailment, trauma and agony had left her feeling discouraged and depressed, up until now.
If this came from LV400, though… if David really recorded this, then there might still be a chance.
Rachel’s scientific side had taken over again, compartmentalizing her emotions and helping her focus.
No time to mourn now, have to keep going.

 

After a few seconds, the login screen for the computer appeared. Rachel tried a few common passwords for the administrative account, but none worked. She tried the guest login prompt, and to her surprise it worked. “Wow, these guys really didn’t do much to secure anything. That’s a state agency for you.”

 

Leonard, Marcus and Nancy looked at each other, trying to figure out what had gotten into Rachel. She had gone from harsh and cold to emotional and introspective to manic and rushed all within the space of a few minutes.

 

“What are you trying to do? Email’s not exactly going to work anymore.”

 

Rachel held up the data stick that she had pulled out of the lockbox before jamming it into a port on the side of the machine. “This! I think I might know what’s on this! If I’m right, this might be our best information on kicking the asses of these things once and for all.”

 

Hearing these words brought hope to the others in the room and they crowded around Rachel as she furiously typed on the keyboard. The data stick was recognized by the operating system, but she was unfamiliar with the exact software version that was running on the police laptop. Her normal commands weren’t working, so she tried several workarounds, desperately working to open the encrypted file that she knew was on the data stick.

 

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