The Doomsday Infection (18 page)

CHAPTER 26

Lieutenant Carpenter’s movements were now being monitored. He was on a top-secret mission entrusted to him by General Malloy himself, no less. He felt honored and could not wait to tell his mom and pop, after a suitable period of course. It
was a top-secret mission, after all. He would not let the general down. He thought of him crushed under the collapsed hotel and sighed. Still if anyone could survive the catastrophe, it would be him. He was the toughest son of a bitch he’d ever met, no desk jock neither, he led from the front, not like those Washington pussies who’d never been up the sharp end. No, you could respect a man like Malloy.

Carpenter had thrived in the army, and his natural cunning had made him r
ise to the top, he applied for airborne training and knocked them dead at Fort Bragg. From there he’d been recruited into a special forces brigade, where his unusual knack for becoming a local effortlessly, made him perfect for counter-terrorism. He could blend seamlessly and could quickly pick up the patois and vernacular of the local population. Commended many times, Major Osborne took him under his wing as his rising star, and pushed him forward to General Malloy for his special mission.

His mission was of the utmost importance, to track and infiltrate the terrorists. They knew the terrorists were being helped, probably by little rag-tag armies like this band of losers. To fool the little gang had been a cinch. They had taken him on face value
, apart from the old coon - she was watching him. He’d snuff her out if needs be, the general had given him a blank check to track the terrorists, he had unlimited resources, and a license to kill – just like James Bond, his all time hero. The mission simple, to flush out the terrorist Sophie Garcia, he had a bribe that would be irresistible for any information leading to her capture.

He knew t
hat in the present climate there was no honor amongst thieves and if the misguided folk hiding the terrorists knew that squealing on them would earn them the most tremendous reward, then now might be the right time to drop it into conversation, while everyone was eating, feeling full, relaxed, and content. “Have you heard about the reward?” he asked casually.

“Reward, what reward?” Jake asked, tos
sing his bean can and opening a coke.

“For information leading to the capture of the terrorists
,” he replied nonchalantly, scraping the bottom of the bean can, feigning starvation.

“What terrorists?” Winnie asked, her eyes narrowing. “We
ain’t heard nothing about no terrorists.”

Lieutenant Carpenter smiled at them. “The terrorists responsible for this catastrophe – the virus.” he prompted.

“You saying it’s not a natural epidemic?” Jake queried, totally baffled by this. He gazed around his gang, noting everyone else was listening to the newcomer avidly.

The lieutenant shook his head in dismay. “A man-made virus manufactured by some rag-headed haters of the US.” He smiled. “Or the Bubonic Plague, here, in present day United States, I mean, Come on.”

Most of the gang seemed to agree with this theory. It was what they wanted to believe rather than some ancient microbe coming back to wipe them out. “Makes sense,” said a bald man in a Kiss t-shirt.

“How come you’re so well informed?” Winnie asked suspiciously.

“Firstly, I personally think hijacking a plane is not the work of the Bubonic Plague,” he said sarcastically. “Or crashing said plane into the military HQ is not the work of the Bubonic Plague. Secondly this.” He reached in his pocket and unfolded a flyer. “I took this from a tree down the street, it’s offering a reward, and has a couple of photographs of the people they’re interested in.”

“Let’s have a look.” T
he gang were keen to read about the reward. “How much money are they offering?” asked the guy in the Kiss T-shirt.

The gang’s sudden greed surprised Jake. It disturbed him. He took the flyer and saw a grainy photo of Sophie and his recently made friend, Luke. “This
ain’t right. I know for a fact this dude ain’t involved.”

“Do you know him, where is he?” Carpenter asked a little too quickly.

“It ain’t him, I’m telling you,” he said firmly.

“If he’s innocent then he can prove it, can’t he? Meanwhile you’ve pocketed the reward,” Carpenter said fairly.

The crowd jumped up on their feet. “What about the reward?”

“Think about the money!” shouted another.

“How much is the reward?” a woman wanted to know.

“Oh, the reward is not money . . .” Carpenter answered cryptically, drawing it out, “It’s better - much, much better than money.” He smiled broadly knowing that he had them hooked.

13:00 PM

Luke and Sophie trudged wearily towards the docks, soaked in sweat, the hazmat suits doubled the heat and their exhaustion. “I remember a speedboat hire place up ahead. I did a story on it once, because they don’t lock their boats at night, as apparently, the replacement costs to fix the locks were astronomical. Yet on the odd occasion that one of them was taken for a joyride it was usually abandoned somewhere nearby, it made a quirky story because it was cheaper to leave the speedboats unlocked and let them be stolen.”

“So, we’re hoping for an unlocked speedboat?” she as
ked not enthused with the plan.

“It’ll be cool, don’t worry.”

She gasped as several rats ran across the sidewalk in front of her. She stopped dead to let them pass, feeling a revulsion towards them, as if they somehow represented the Bubonic Plague.

Sophie and Luke turned a corner to see a pack of dogs fighting over
a corpse, one ran off with a string of intestine. She cringed. “Has this really all happened over the last twenty-four hours? It’s as if civilization collapsed overnight. No planes, cars, trains - no transport. No telephones, computers, e-mail, no medical help, no help, period.”

They were shortly at the docks where brightly colored signs advertizing fishing trips, tours around the bay, dolphin watches, or hiring speedboats by the hour. “This is the place,” said Luke.

As they approached, a figure stepped out from the shadows pointing a rifle at them. “Freeze!”

CHAPTER 27

14:00 PM

General Malloy stirred from under a mound of rubble in the stairwell of what was left of the Four Points Hotel. He moved the bigger pieces of masonry until he was in an upright position. Dust swirled around in the gloom. He would kill for some light right now. He tried wiggling his toes, and they appeared to function. That had to be a good sign, although there was a crushing weight on his legs that he could not see. He waited for his eyes to adjust. He tried to guess which floor he was on, was he still halfway up, buried under twenty floors of glass and stone, or did he have all forty stories on top? Alternatively, had he fallen to the bottom, he recollected that there were two sub-floors, containing the kitchens and delivery bays. Still, he was alive and he was damn well going to get out of there. He pulled at the weight on his legs and was shocked to find it was a body. He yanked with all his strength and the upper torso of a man, flew up and over his shoulder, covering him with innards. “Damnit,” he said, wiping his face picking offal from his chest. He wriggled some more and freed his legs, stood and brushed himself down. He kicked a discarded flashlight. Retrieved it, switched it on – nothing.

He rattled it some, tried again and had a beam. He shone it ar
ound to get his bearings and discovered bleakly that all exits were blocked. He felt a slight breeze on his face, took out a box of matches, struck one and was elated when he saw the flame flicker. He followed the source of the draft until the match burnt his fingers. “Damnit.” He dropped the match, lit another and tracked the source of the draft and possible escape to a hole high up in the air. He allowed himself a smile, knowing that the stairwell would be at the side of the building and that the hole should lead, eventually to the outside. He clambered up the pile of rocks, as he neared the top, a mini avalanche sent him back down the pile of slabs. He tried once more, carefully picking his foot-holes. He was tantalizingly close to the hole and freedom, when a hand gripped him around his ankle.

14:15 PM

“We’re civilians, man,
” Luke said to Lieutenant Carpenter, who pointed a rifle at them.

“Then how come you’re wearing military-grade hazardous-material suits?”

“We swiped them, to disguise ourselves, worked pretty damn good; we walked right on through the soldiers and the patrols ignore us.”

“If you
’re civilians,” the bald man said. “You must be immune to the plague.”

“That’s right.” Luke said.

“And therefore, you wouldn’t mind removing your helmets.”

“It’d be a pleasure,” said Sophie glad to be out of the stifling helmet. She shook her hair free and Luke was stunned once again by her beauty. He was mesmerized as she removed the rest of the heat-retaining suit and he
didn’t notice Carpenter’s surprised reaction to Sophie.

Luke unfastened his helmet, and heard a voice from behind exclaim, “
Duuude!” He turned and was delighted to see Jake. “This dude’s a friend,” Jake told his gang and hugged Luke vigorously, “I can vouch for him, let them through.”

Carpenter
stared at Luke in disbelief, checked the images he had of the wanted terrorists and couldn’t believe his Luck.

Luke nodded hello to the semi-circle of ten survivors, including Winnie, and beamed at her,” Hey, Winnie, how’s it hanging?”

“I’ll live,” she grunted. Jake introduced them to the group, including the gunman, who initially stopped them. “And this is Lew Carpenter, who ironically is a carpenter by trade.”

“No way, man,
” Luke said taking them all aback. “You’re military.”

“Not me, I’m a humble carpenter,” he lied unconvincingly.

“Not the way you handled that weapon, you’ve had training, it’s something you don’t lose.” Luke glared at the man, and they were at a standoff.

“Dude, wh
at’s with the hostilities?”

“He’s military, listen to the way
he speaks, ‘military-grade hazardous materials suit’? Who speaks like that? He’s not a carpenter, that’s for damn sure.”

Jake said; “Live and let live, that’s my motto.”

Luke calmed. “There’s something ‘off’ with you, man,” he glared at Carpenter, who matched his stare, giving him the deadeye.

Sophie tried to ease the situation with logic. “If he were
military, sent to infiltrate, then he’s got to be pretty dumb, because he’d have to be on a suicide mission.” A look passed over Carpenter’s face. “He has signed his own death warrant just by being here in the zone with us. Without a hazmat suit means certain death.”

This appeased Luke,
as it made sense. He quickly explained his plan and they moved towards the docks, although Carpenter hung back, removed his boot and fiddled with his transmitter.

When they reached the rent-a-boat shack, Luke led them down a rickety ladder onto a wooden pontoon, where half a dozen speedboats
were moored. He helped Sophie, then Winnie down after him, quickly followed by the others.

“Six speedboats, with keys, at your service,” he gestured with the flair of a game-show host.

“How’d you know these speedboats were here, dude?” Jake asked incredulously.

“It’s a long story. Right, are we agreed on the plan?”

Sophie said, “Sure, we hug the coast-line heading north, if any boats approach we separate and hopefully some of us will make it to safety.”

Winnie acted uncomfortable
and Luke noticed. “Winnie, what’s wrong?” he asked her.

“Oh Lord, I am so, so sorry,” she uttered unable to meet his gaze.

Jake said, “Dude, we owe you our freedom.”

“We’re not free yet, man.” Luke reminded them.

“No dude, I meant
our
freedom,” he indicated the group of ten, who shuffled their feet not looking at Luke or Sophie. “Not yours.”

Luke heard the click of many firearms locking and loading. He looked up to see half a dozen soldiers lining the quayside above with their rifles trained on him.

“Sorry, dude, but he told us -” Jake said pointing at Carpenter. “There’s a bounty on your heads,” he said apologetically.

“I knew it . . .,
” Luke said under his breath. “Tell me you don’t trust
them?
” Luke nodded up at the soldiers. “Winnie, are you in on this?”

She looked ashamed and studied her feet. “I know, I owe you my life, but we’ve been promised freedom if we turned you in. It’s something I’ll have to live with.”

“Man . . . Well, I hope you live long enough to regret it.” He could not believe his ears. He locked eyes with Sophie who was in despair, being caught in such an underhanded manner.

The soldiers herded them back up the ladder to the quayside under gunpoint. Major Osborne, a short squat man, waddled over in his hazmat suit. He approached and oozed charm. “M
ajor Osborne.” He saluted Jake smartly, then turned to the others. “We are forever in your debt, and as a representative of the US government I will honor the agreement that led to the capture of the traitors -”

“Traitors! Us?” Luke choked on the words. One of the soldiers whacked
him in the temple with the butt of a rifle, and he crumpled to his knees and fell forwards, he shook his head from side to side but it only made the pain worse.

“Hey, dude?” roared Jake. “We gave you to him, but there’s no need for that.”

“What you think is insignificant to me. These two traitors will be shot like dogs. You may watch if you wish, and then we’ll lynch them from lampposts as a warning to the others.”

“My God . . .
,” whimpered Winnie. “What have we done?”

“You promised us freedom,” said the man in the Kiss T-shirt.

“I will honor the agreement, if you pass the plague test, then you will be transported north to freedom -”

“There is no test,” Sophie said. Lieutenant Carpenter slapped her across her face. She trembled with rage, and she turned to him. “You’re the biggest idiot, walking around here without a suit on.” He slapped her face once more.

Luke raged. “I’m
gonna kill you!”

“That, my friend, would be a pretty neat trick,” Carpenter laughed.

“Cut it out,” said Jake. “The US army does not brutalize women.”

The major regarded him balefully. “Do you want this test or not?”

Jake looked ashamed and looked away. “Up to you,” said the major. “I’ll leave you to think about it.”

The rest of the group had no such qualms. Hands shot up. “Me, I’ll take the test!” A soldier snapped open a test tube, and indicated for the man to open his mouth, and inserted a cotton bud, much like taking a DNA sample, put it back in the tube where a liquid turned black.  “He’s a carrier,” said the soldier.

Major Osborne swiftly pulled his pistol and shot the man between the eyes, the stunned man fell back off the quayside into the ocean with a mighty splash.

“He had the plague,” the major explained. “He was a danger to us all.”

The group was shocked into silence. The next volunteer took the test apprehensively. Once again, the soldier shook his head, and the major dispatched him to a watery grave. A woman went next, she crossed herself, but she too was condemned to death, she opened her mouth to scream, but was shot before she could utter a sound.

Luke looked up at Sophie and winked, which she took as a cue for a distraction
. “You idiots, don’t you get it, there is no cure!”

“Shut her up,” the major snarled.

Lieutenant Carpenter had a glint in his eye, approached her, and raised his rifle butt-end to smash her in the face, when she said. “What sort of moron are you? Did they inject you with an antidote - is that it? Do you think there’s a cure? There’s no cure for this strain of the Bubonic Plague, you fool.” She pointed to the major. “He knows there’s no cure and he’s tricked you into being exposed to the disease. You’re going to die.”

Carpenter lost his nerve for a moment, hesitated and turned angrily to the major.

“Don’t listen to the traitor, soldier, misinformation is a key tool of the terrorist.”

Sophie urged. “Look around you. Does it look like there is a cure?”

“Shut her up, that’s an order!” yelled the major. Lieutenant Carpenter flipped his weapon around and pointed it at her, his finger pulled slowly back on the trigger . . .