Kingdom of the Seven (33 page)
Read Kingdom of the Seven Online
Authors: Jon Land
As he descended the stairs to get a better look, McCracken realized the still image projected on the huge screen was a map. By the time he reached the bottom step, he could see the markings and notations on it clearly. His eyes scanned the entire image and came to rest on the most prominent marking of all in the map’s northwest portion where a single location had been enclosed by a bright red box. Squinting, he was able to identify the site enclosed by the box and then follow a thick black line that originated at the bottom of the red box and ran southeast to a large number of sites denoted by small black circles. The thick black line cut through each of their centers in no
discernible pattern, looking like the bizarre results of a connect-the-dots game.
discernible pattern, looking like the bizarre results of a connect-the-dots game.
Blaine took a final step down to floor level. His heart was pounding as the individual sites contained within those circles and linked together by the black line originating at the red box became clear to him.
Red for a reason: for blood, for death.
In all, over fifty sites in the southeast were circled, each of them different.
Yet the same.
And all part of Harlan Frye’s plan for making Judgment Day come to pass.
Jacob found Rachel sprawled on the ground in the twilight brightness of the kingdom. She lay facedown covered by construction debris that looked to have tumbled atop her, leaving only her long hair exposed.
“Rachel?” Jacob probed as he advanced, submachine gun sweeping the area in cadence with his eyes. “Rachel …”
She stirred slightly. Alive!
Thank God!
Thank God!
Jacob shouldered the submachine gun and drew his pistol in its place to give him a free hand. Then he leaped over the debris closest to Rachel and reached down. He touched her hair and started to ease her over.
“What happened? I—”
Her hair came away in his hand. A huge coiled shape, its head previously buried beneath it, sprang upward. Jacob tried to bring his gun around, even as he recorded a face of rotting flesh and brown, decayed teeth that smiled at him. He found the trigger at the same time he nearly gagged at the stench emanating from the monster. Before
he could fire, though, a sizzling blow stung his wrist and sent the pistol flying.
he could fire, though, a sizzling blow stung his wrist and sent the pistol flying.
As Jacob reached for the machine gun slung from his shoulder, the giant’s huge hand whipped toward his face. The boy flinched involuntarily, focus on the Mac-10 lost for a few precious instants.
Block it! Block it!
Instinct took over. Jacob’s free arm shot up in a defensive posture. He deflected the blow and completed the process of freeing his Mac-10 at the same time. He brought it around, thinking he could fire before the monster could strike again. But suddenly the gun was being turned back on him, a thick, soiled finger closing over his on the trigger. Jacob had never felt such strength.
No
man was this strong.
No
man was this strong.
He felt the finger pushing his inward, fought against it until the bone cracked. The pain exploded through him, but was nothing compared to the burst of agony that slammed into his midsection and turned everything hot. The heat lasted only briefly before a strange and terrifying cold overcame it with the return of the staticky, frothy voice:
“Fare thee well for I must leave thee, Do not let this parting grieve thee.”
Earvin Early watched the boy die and then slid away.
“What’s it mean?” Johnny asked her.
Karen’s thoughts tumbled over one another fast and furiously. “That the disease, the HIV virus, mutated into a form never witnessed or conceived of before.” She pointed a trembling hand at the glass. “What we’re looking at in there could only be the result of airborne transmission—spread of the contagion no longer limited to sexual or blood contact. The residents of Beaver Falls caught AIDS from Frye’s test group merely by breathing or touching.”
Karen backed up and turned away from Wareagle as she continued.
“The whole basis of Van Dyne‘s—Frye’s—vaccine is a
genetically disposed protein coating that traps the HIV virus and prevents its cells from spreading. Starved for sustenance, they eventually die. That was the essence of the vaccine: Train the body to defend itself against HIV and give it the weapons it needs. In Frye’s original plan that protein coating would dissolve after a number of years, thereby freeing the cells to infect the host with HIV. But not only did that coating dissolve long before it was supposed to, it also appears that it released a mutated and infinitely more virulent strain of the disease.” She turned back to the isolation ward, stretching her hands upward but holding them there as if afraid to touch the glass. “The results of which we’re now looking at.”
genetically disposed protein coating that traps the HIV virus and prevents its cells from spreading. Starved for sustenance, they eventually die. That was the essence of the vaccine: Train the body to defend itself against HIV and give it the weapons it needs. In Frye’s original plan that protein coating would dissolve after a number of years, thereby freeing the cells to infect the host with HIV. But not only did that coating dissolve long before it was supposed to, it also appears that it released a mutated and infinitely more virulent strain of the disease.” She turned back to the isolation ward, stretching her hands upward but holding them there as if afraid to touch the glass. “The results of which we’re now looking at.”
“They were studying this in the labs downstairs,” Wareagle reflected.
Her eyes stayed on the glass. “That’s for certain.”
“Gone now,” Johnny continued, “because their work was finished. Because they found what they were looking for.”
Karen looked at him, thinking briefly of the set of pliable test tubes left in the lab downstairs. “The mutant strain …”
He nodded. “They found the means to concentrate it first, then the means to—”
“Release it!”
Karen completed. “The means to achieve widespread infection without the mass inoculation Frye was counting on! And that—”
Karen completed. “The means to achieve widespread infection without the mass inoculation Frye was counting on! And that—”
She stopped when Wareagle spun suddenly toward the spiral stairwell. His eyes remained riveted upon it as he spoke.
“Someone’s coming.”
McCracken was standing only a yard from the screen now, mentally cataloging each of the sites enclosed by a black circle. They were all hotels located in the downtown district and outskirts of a single city:
San Antonio, Texas.
The bold red box from which the connecting line originated
in the northwest, though, was etched within the city of Boerne. McCracken had to move right up to the map to identify the specific site centered in that box as a wastewater treatment facility.
in the northwest, though, was etched within the city of Boerne. McCracken had to move right up to the map to identify the specific site centered in that box as a wastewater treatment facility.
What could that possibly have to do with the circled hotels?
Water, it had to have something to do with water … .
Blaine felt himself shiver slightly as he began to comprehend Harlan Frye’s revised plan. It must involve contaminating the water supply of San Antonio, a convention center that often catered to tens of thousands of guests from all over the country and world at one time. In small print, the circles also contained numbers ranging from the high hundreds to the low thousands: the total number of guests expected at each hotel over a period of several weeks, no doubt, commencing sometime in the near future. McCracken did some quick addition of the numbers in the fifty or so circles. He stopped counting when the sum had stretched to nearly a hundred thousand.
And they would all drink the water.
Blaine’s mind continued to speed ahead of him. Somehow Harlan Frye must have come up with a way to poison the water extracted from sewage in Boerne before it was discharged back into the system. Once the treated water was discharged, it would seep into the Edwards Aquifer, from which the entire city—and therefore all of those hotels—drew its supply. Since Frye’s original plan had failed, he was going to infect a hundred thousand visitors to San Antonio with the disease, thereby using them as unwitting carriers.
But something was missing. Under that scenario, the contagion process would be much too slow to suit Frye. Nothing like what widespread distribution of his bogus vaccine would have accomplished. So there was more; there had to be.
McCracken turned his attention back to the map. The Reverend’s entire plan depended mostly on one element
and one location for its success. If McCracken was able to—
and one location for its success. If McCracken was able to—
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it, Mr. McCracken?” Harlan Frye asked him from the rear of the theater.
He started to turn slowly, his drawn SIG-Sauer swinging with him and ready to fire. McCracken twisted his shoulders in a quick burst at the end, aiming.
At nothing. No one was there.
“Come now,” said the Reverend Harlan Frye, “you didn’t expect me to make it that easy for you, did you? Drop the gun now, Mr. McCracken. My men respond well to orders, but even I may not be able to control their nervousness at a moment like this.”
They appeared from the darkened rear corners of the theater, three on each side, well spread and well armed. Blaine’s eyes searched for Frye and still couldn’t find him.
“With God on your side, Reverend, what do you need with common soldiers?”
“To help me in pursuit of His work. Help me remove the final obstacles thrust in my way. The gun, please. Now.”
The SIG hit the floor with a thud.
“Much better. Now, make sure you continue to let my men see your hands. You have made for a worthy challenge, Mr. McCracken, but one my foresight has allowed me to overcome, just as it has so many others.”
McCracken left his hands in view, the remote control device he still possessed tucked halfway up his sleeve. “You were expecting me, then.”
“I allowed myself to briefly believe you had been killed at the Oasis because I wanted to believe it. But I feared all along you had escaped the explosion because a man like you can walk through flames and feel not their heat.”
“I’m not much for walking on water, though. You mastered that one yet, Reverend?”
“I knew you would be coming here. I knew it was my destiny to face you as one last challenge before the way is
cleared to my ultimate destiny. As soon as I was informed someone was inside the theater, I knew it was you. I have already dispatched men to find those who accompanied you.”
cleared to my ultimate destiny. As soon as I was informed someone was inside the theater, I knew it was you. I have already dispatched men to find those who accompanied you.”
“I came alone.”
“Please do not insult me. A man like yourself is as good at keeping others alive as he is at surviving himself.”
“Precisely what brought me here.”
“unfortunate since I know that trail as well as you. I’ve walked it my entire life to get to the destination I am about to attain.”
“Keeping others
alive?”
Blaine raised, with a strain of incredulity plain in his voice.
alive?”
Blaine raised, with a strain of incredulity plain in his voice.
“Keeping
mankind
alive. Mine is the only way. It is God’s way, Mr. McCracken. I don’t expect you to fully understand that or believe it. Your abilities are impressive, but your emotions are crude and primitive.” Frye’s voice turned almost sad. “Quite a shame, considering we fight the same enemies: greed, injustice, immorality.”
mankind
alive. Mine is the only way. It is God’s way, Mr. McCracken. I don’t expect you to fully understand that or believe it. Your abilities are impressive, but your emotions are crude and primitive.” Frye’s voice turned almost sad. “Quite a shame, considering we fight the same enemies: greed, injustice, immorality.”
“Our methods are considerably different, Reverend, and I’m the last one with a right to judge anyone’s morality.”
“So my research about you indicated. I must say I found it fascinating. I find
you
fascinating.”
you
fascinating.”
McCracken continued to scan the room. Not spotting Frye, he began to think he was speaking from another room altogether. He kept the remote control device within easy grasp up his sleeve. “I wish I could say likewise, Reverend. Trouble is, massacring innocent people makes you about as loathsome a sort as I’ve ever run into.”
“You speak of the events at the Oasis, no doubt.”
Blaine made sure Frye could see him cock his eyes toward the map of San Antonio. “Not just there.”
“Circumstances mandated my actions at the Oasis, just as far more overreaching circumstances mandated the destiny I have been chosen to bring about. All great causes require sacrifices, I’m afraid.”
“How many sacrifices, Reverend? A world’s worth?”
“If necessary, yes.”
“And it is necessary, isn’t it?”
“You, better than anyone, should know that it is,” Frye said, with what sounded like regret in his voice. “The battles you have fought, the rampant decay you have been unable to check. You plug holes in a dam I seek to remake from scratch over a world flooded by its own excesses and hate. There is no other choice, Mr. McCracken. If there was, I would welcome it.”
“As judged by you, of course.”
“By God, Mr. McCracken. I am His messenger just as Jesus was, and Moses before him. I am the instrument of the delivery of His chosen destiny.”
“Getting tough to tell yourself apart from Him, isn’t it?”
“But we were talking about
you,
Mr. McCracken.”
you,
Mr. McCracken.”
“Boring subject.”
“Not to me,” said the Reverend Harlan Frye. “I’ve dedicated my life to saving souls. But you, you are one of those rare individuals who found the strength to save his own. I know what you evolved from. I know what you evolved into. Your dedication, your belief, your loyalty … You exemplify everything I hold dear. But you, like all classic heroes, see yourself able to do more than any man can. If you could save all the world at once, you would do it, would you not?”
“Like I said,” Blaine said flatly, “that’s what I’m here for.”
The Reverend Harlan Frye sighed. “And still you bicker, still you doubt. Even if you stopped me, Mr. McCracken, the world wouldn’t be saved—only the lives of those who are determined to bring it down. The tragedy of your life lies in that dichotomy. You fight to save those whose existence perpetuates the need for you to fight again and again. Truly tragic.”
“Is this the part where you ask me to sign up and I say no, Reverend?”
“I wouldn’t belittle you with such a request. You and I are too much alike to coexist peacefully. You know it and I know it.”
“You’ve got that much right.”
“I felt I owed you this much. That is why I spared you this long. I wanted you to hear, to
see.”
see.”
“See what?”
“Watch,” said Harlan Frye, as the theater lighting dimmed slightly and a new image replaced that of the map of San Antonio on the screen.
Rachel could not believe the pain. The monster had torn her insides up with a blade and, while she lay there, he leaned over grinning and sliced off her hair to the scalp. Left her for dead and melted away after her brother.
Jacob, Jacob …
She tried to call out to him and failed. Where was the walkie-talkie? Rachel tried to remember. It was no use. She could save him if she could make herself move, drag herself along in the monster’s wake.
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