“Collateral damage,” Goodwin said. “It happens. No one can make the world’s best omelet without breaking a few eggs. And along the same vein, we aren’t going to create the world’s most adaptive soldier without a few sacrifices. It’s just part of doing business.”
Major Daniels had yet to acknowledge that Shannon was sitting less than fifteen feet away. He continued as he moved in near the man taking notes and sat across the table from Goodwin. “That’s not the only problem.”
Growing tired of the conversation but willing to listen for another moment, Goodwin sat back and folded his arms. “Yes?”
“We are testing this thing—”
“This thing?” Goodwin said interrupting.
“Excuse me,” Major Daniels said. “We are currently testing the Ares injectable at more than two hundred locations. Early tests were promising, but it’s time we slow this down and get a handle on why these incidents continue to occur.”
Without making eye contact and as the last syllable left Daniels mouth, Goodwin barked, “No, we’re moving ahead.”
“You don’t have the authority—”
“The site managers all report here,” Goodwin said. “And they have instructions to continue with the tests.”
“Watch the video, you may have a different opinion.”
Rewinding the short clip, Goodwin said, “I’ve viewed it twice.” Pushing the play button and as the shaky images flowed across the screen, he asked, “Is this why you’re here?”
An overweight lab technician was the first to appear, followed closely by an armed guard. They both stood over a lifeless corpse whose upper torso, neck, and face had been torn apart by a yet unknown source.
A third much smaller man entered the frame, pointed down at the body and then peered into the camera. “Another one. He was attacked less than two minutes earlier and flatlined only seconds ago. This is the third—”
The small man was interrupted as the body began to push away from the floor and reached for his ankle. He pulled away and stepped aside as the man with the pistol moved in. The camera turned away as the deafening sound of the weapon being fired ended the short clip.
“I have six more of these to show you,” Daniels said. “It’s has officially gone too far. We need get someone else to oversee this project. We should have never let Lockwood leave. He was the only one who knew what this was and how to fix it.”
“I’ve seen all the footage. It’s just more of the same in a different location. And we needn’t bother ourselves with that man—I’ve already got my eye on someone else. We have no need for Dr. Lockwood. His ideas didn’t align with what we are trying to do here.”
“We?” Daniels said. “I hate to burst that delusional little bubble you’re living in, but you’re the only one who believes this project is anything but a train wreck at this point. And I’m making the recommendation to our friends that we put this project on hold. I’m not going to let them put another dollar into this without some sort of oversight.”
“I’ll tell you what—you go ahead and make whatever recommendation you see fit. This is going to happen with or without you. And just so there’s absolutely no confusion, the United States Department of Defense no longer looks to you for validation or approval. If you weren’t aware, they’ve already begun phasing out your group. They’ve also set up more testing facilities in more countries than you could possibly imagine, none of which report to you. And they sure as hell aren’t crying about a few broken dishes.”
“Broken dishes? These are men, my men. And they aren’t expendable just because you have a timeline. It doesn’t work that way.”
“But it does,” Goodwin said. “If we don’t get this done within the next twelve months, someone else will. Do what you need to do, although for now, we are moving forward and will fix the issues as we go.”
“I have to say—”
Interrupting yet again, Goodwin sat up straight. “This is going nowhere. Let’s have someone with a bit of real data shed some light on these recent developments. You and I are too far removed from the actual day to day to see some of the more encouraging results.”
Daniels nodded. He then turned to the young man seated to his right and spoke quietly into his ear. The young man stopped taking notes, stood, and moved out of the room.
“Okay,” Daniels said. “What is it?”
“If I may… Ms. Briggs, our Senior Analyst, has done weekly projections based on our recent test subjects and the conclusions are extremely optimistic.” Back to Daniels he continued. “I think she can inject some logic into what we’ve seen here today, and put your mind at ease regarding the direction we intend to follow over the next few years.”
Sitting forward, Shannon glanced from Major Daniels over to Goodwin and then back to Daniels before standing and moving to the screen. Reaching for the remote, she scanned the footage and paused on the fourth video. “This is where we have an issue.”
“Ms. Briggs?” Goodwin said. “Where is this going?”
She stepped back and powered off the screen. Again turning from Goodwin to Daniels, she said, “Our problem is that it’s mutating.”
“What?” Daniels said.
“She’s mistaken,” Goodwin replied.
“No, the data is all there.” Shannon stepped forward. “The newer test subjects are showing increased signs of neurologic detachment syndrome, but on an extremely amplified level.”
Major Daniels smiled for the first time since they’d entered the room. “I understand the science behind what we intended to do; however, for this, I’m going to ask that you explain it to me like I’m a third grader.
Goodwin pushed away from his chair back and stood. “We’re done here. I’ll make sure you get a full report—”
“Marcus, this is the exact reason I made the trip down here today. The least you could do is allow me to hear what she has to say—she is
your
data analyst after all.”
As Goodwin paused and breathed in through his nose, Shannon took the opportunity to continue. “Mr. Goodwin, Major Daniels has a valid argument.” Her hands began to shake. “Three of the facilities have reported human to human transfer from the experimental group to the control group.”
Through clenched teeth Goodwin spoke directly to her. “Yes, I am aware.”
Turning her attention to Major Richard Daniels she said, “This means we now have infected individuals who were never given the Ares injectable. It appears they were infected through the transfer of plasma.”
Daniels cut his eyes at Goodwin. “Transmitted through blood?”
Shannon continued. “Yes. If early indicators are correct, the mutated cells responsible for shortening the synapse functions on the battlefield and in hand-to-hand combat have also decreased or completely removed certain inhibitors.”
“This is why we’re seeing men attacking, and in some cases, actually eating one another?”
“Yes.” Shannon avoided eye contact with Goodwin and was surprised he hadn’t yet stopped her. “As of the last two weeks, this glitch has resulted in the test subject’s neurotic inability to feel or express impulse control. Those infected through blood to blood transfer essentially lose all ability to reason. They are controlled by only two impulses… feed and survive.”
Waiting for her to finish, Goodwin moved the door, turned the handle, and held it open. Back to Major Daniels he said, “You’ve got what you came here for. If there’s nothing else, I’m going to have to say goodbye. I’m already late for another meeting.”
Major Daniels moved to Shannon, placed his hand on her shoulder and nodded. He then stepped around her to Goodwin, shook his hand, and stepped out of the room.
As Major Richard Daniels strode out into the lobby, Marcus Goodwin slowly closed the door and returned to his seat. He motioned for Shannon to take a seat across from him and waited as she settled in. “So, that went a bit differently than I was expecting.”
“Mr. Goodwin, I’m sorry. I did what I thought was the right—”
“Ms. Briggs, there is absolutely no reason to apologize. You know I’m actually glad Daniels has the full picture. As you were giving him the details, I realized something. First off, he probably has no idea what you told him, and second, he really has nowhere to go with that information. No one’s going to listen to him anyway. He’s a nobody on this project and at this point, more of a distraction than anything.”
“But don’t you think the others should know about what we’re seeing?”
“Not all of it. And not just yet.”
Shannon breathed out hard. “You’re going to fire me, aren’t you?”
“I’ll admit, it did cross my mind. But the more you spoke, the more I realized where your special skills could be of use.”
“Okay?”
“There is small assignment that I’m going to need you for. You will still be involved with the analytics from this project, just from a different location.” Marcus Goodwin once again leaned back in his chair. “Tell me Ms. Briggs… how do you feel about small towns?”
The tracks that the massive vehicle had created through the melting snow slowly faded with the setting of the sun. He and Griffin sat in the cab and spoke quietly as the others slept in the makeshift beds laid out along the rear of the armored vehicle. Ethan couldn’t remember what day it was, although he knew he hadn’t had more than three hours sleep in the last forty-eight hours.
Parked in the shadows at the rear of the police station, the vehicle that had become their home for the last two days was cool, but not cold. The growing mound of sleeping bags and blankets, combined with body heat from six tightly spaced individuals, kept the interior at an even seventy-two degrees.
“It has to be tonight,” Ethan said. “I’ve wasted too much time in this town. My sister is out there somewhere all alone and one way or another, I’m going to get to her.”
They stared out the windshield toward the station as the first full day of sun was coming to an end. Griffin pointed to the snow covered foothills and turned to Ethan. “I agree. The ground is almost dry. I’ll bet by morning we can scoot through the east end of town and make it to the city by midday—that is if we don’t get another storm.”
“I don’t really care. I’ll find another car and go alone.”
“Trust me, I want out of this place more than you can possibly imagine. Going house to house for the last three days and surviving on other people’s leftovers is about to push me over the edge.”
Ethan grinned for the first time in days. “And the constant running for your life—that’s gotta add to the level of suck. Kinda like being thrown into hell without a life jacket.”
Griffin turned his gaze from the dying daylight back to Ethan. He motioned into the rear cabin, to where the others were fast asleep. “We should stay together. It doesn’t make sense to go it alone. You know that.”
“Again, I don’t care. My only priority is—”
“I get it. You want to go after your sister. Your parents. But you gotta know that going out there all alone isn’t going to help them. And you probably don’t want to hear this, but if they didn’t find somewhere to hide or fall in with another group, there isn’t a reason for you to go looking for them anyway.”
Ethan tightened his jaw and breathed in through his nose. He didn’t respond.
“Listen,” Griffin said. “I know we didn’t have the best start and I
am
sorry about your friend—”
“David, you mean David.”
“Yes David. I mean, I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to understand why I did what I did, but I still stand by my actions. If someone hadn’t acted, you’d be dead and possibly others as well.”
Again focusing his attention through the windshield, Ethan watched as a pair of wayward Feeders struggled to navigate the slick asphalt. Moving from the south end of the lot out onto Mineral Street, the taller one, probably a hair under six feet, toppled to the ground several times. With each new effort to right itself, its traveling companion moved further away.
“I don’t know,” Ethan said. “I just can’t do this. I’m not supposed to.” He paused, looking into the rear cabin and lowering his voice. “They need someone—someone else. My mind isn’t here with these people, or even here for me. I’m already running toward the city and then to my sister. I’m not the guy they need, I never was. Maybe you are, but I can’t be. Not right now.”
Checking the side mirror and then scanning the lot out through the passenger window, Griffin shifted in his seat. “Okay, so you find a car. You get lucky and it has gas and you’re able to get it started somehow. You make it out of town and up the mountain and find your parents. They’re okay and agree to go with you to find Emma. Then what?”
“What do you mean? Then I get them the hell out of the city and find my sister.”
“Sorry to break it to ya big guy, but your plan has a few holes.”
“That’s your opinion.”
“Yeah,” Griffin said. “But there’s no way you’re doing all that on your own. Over the last five days and nights, we’ve saved each other’s rear end more times than I can rightly count on two hands. That was us—all of us. Saving each other. You go out there all lone-wolf like and there’s no one to watch your back. You won’t last twenty-four hours.”
“I think I can handle—”
“No, not alone you can’t. Besides, your weapon is useless without ammo, and if you remember, we’re all bone dry. I know you didn’t forget about what happened at the apartment complex last night. You tried to fire an empty weapon twice and if Ben hadn’t stepped into that kitchen when he did, you’d be dead… or worse.”
“I’ll find what I need before I leave.” Ethan shook his head. “It’s been five days and my family could be—”
“You’re right, Ethan, it
has
been five days. But you also know that this storm that’s been dumping buckets of snow for the last six days has all but eliminated any real chance we would have had of getting up the mountain.”
“Yeah and it’s over. Time to go.”
“I won’t try to stop you, but you’re making a stupid move here. And you’re not a stupid guy. So do what you gotta do. But trust me, things are gonna end real bad for you. Real painful and real dark, and you’re no good to your family as a stain on some frozen mountain road.”
The rear cabin was deadly silent. Cora, Shannon, and Carly lay side by side with their heads resting comfortably against the rear door. At least one in a deep enough sleep that her rhythmic snoring kept pace with the breath sounds of the others. The trio, now bruised and battered from another long day of scavenging, slept like there wasn’t anything else that mattered.
Much closer to the cab, Ben lay on his right side lengthwise near where the women’s shoes protruded from the mound of mismatched blankets. He mumbled every few minutes, although he hadn’t made a sound in the last half hour and finally turned onto his back and opened his eyes. “Ethan,” he said in a whisper.
He waited as the Ethan and Griffin turned. “You’re not leaving by yourself.”
Ethan nodded. “Yeah kid, why’s that?”
“You need us.”
Turning in the driver’s seat and leaning into the rear cabin, Ethan said, “You think so?”
“I do.”
“Listen,” Ethan said as he turned from Ben to Griffin and then back to Ben. “This is not up for discussion. And I’m not trying to convince you that what I’m doing is sane or rational, even though it appears that’s exactly what I’ve been doing for the last hour. As soon as the sun sets, I’m going.”
“No,” Griffin said. “You’re not. Not until you let the women say their piece. Carly won’t bounce back from that. She needs you more than anyone. I’m not gonna be the one to tell her you left. That’s on you—Not us.”
Ethan nodded. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll stick around until the women wake up, but I need a favor. From both of you.”
“What’s that?” Griffin asked.
“I need three hours, no questions asked. There’s something I need to take care of—tonight. When I get back, we’ll finish this.”