The Beginning of the End (Book 1): Toward the Brink (14 page)

“It’s those bastards that make it hard fer small store owners to make a livin’!”

The Tall Man nodded at Neddy. “Baer was given temporary permission to operate within the state of Idaho. Just as its permission was extended nationwide, people started getting sick, and not long after, the sickness spread to Canada, Mexico, and even in Europe from starches bought from companies which were supplied by a Baer-controlled potato farm. You see, no one really knew, but Baer Industries controlled the entire potato and fast food market and did so on nothing but fuckin’ French fries. Do you get it? French fries!” The Tall Man looked at Elliot and Cindy to see if it was registering with them.

“I’m not quite sure where you’re going with this,” Elliot said.

“French fries,” Elliot heard him say again as if he hadn’t heard the first time. “How innocent is that? Who would think you could control the most powerful country in the world by controlling the French fries market? Well, he almost did.”

“I assume then that because of the sickness spreading that Baer was unable to pursue his plans for world domination?”

“You do catch on quick, Elliot Goodwin, very quick. He had control of an over two hundred billion dollars a year industry, and you can buy a huge amount of influence with that kind of money. He was noticed by a group called ‘the Chamber,’ and as far as I know was invited to join them.”

“You’re saying that what’s happening here in Idaho will spread across the country then into Canada and Mexico?”

“Unfortunately, that’s what’s going to happen.”

“How long have you known about it?” Elliot asked, suspicion in his voice. His right hand slid down onto the butt of the Ruger Redhawk.

“It wasn’t until after I was attacked at the farm that I realized something was up. The wife of the biochemist turned into some monster and attacked me. I swear it was like she wanted to eat me. Then it happened again at this old farm within an hour! What are the odds? I put two and two together and came up with basically the same thing as you: the hormone was responsible. Unlike you though, I’m not so sure about a cure being discovered anytime soon.”

“What makes you think I believe a cure will be found?”

“Because you’re young and optimistic, and I don’t mean any offense by that, Elliot. It’s just the way things are when we’re young. I’d also heard earlier that several houses belonging to key Baer personnel had been deliberately burned. The owners disappeared, including Baer himself, and I knew then they were running from responsibility. I did one last check before the phone system went into meltdown. The man I worked under, Mr. Langlie, didn’t think I knew how to check this, but I did. I was able to see a few of the Baer Industries financial records and found they’d been transferred out of the country almost six months ago. Someone knew the shit was about to hit the fan and made arrangements!

“And Elliot,” the Tall Man added for emphasis, “we are talking over ten billion dollars in cash, and that was from the accounts that I could access. There were others I couldn’t.”

# # #

“Mr. President,” the White House Chief of Staff said, “are you busy, sir?”

“Not if you have news about Idaho I’m not.”

“Mr. President, the plane carrying the SEAL team you assigned to CDC control has crashed. It overshot the runway and ploughed into a field. There are no survivors, sir.”

“No survivors!” The President jumped to his feet from behind the Resolute desk. “How can you know that? Are there not rescue teams at the airport?”

“Mr. President, the catastrophe unfolding in Idaho is of such a level that there wasn’t anyone available at the control tower. No one, sir. I mean, no one has been reached or heard from for almost twelve hours, sir. The CDC had heart rate monitors affixed to all members of the SEAL team and the crew of the plane. It was relayed via satellite, and the plane was monitored the whole time by satellite as well.” The Chief of Staff came over by the desk and in a somber tone said, “Sir, it looks like the heart rate monitor of the pilot gave out just before the crash, judging by the report.” He handed a manila envelope over to the President.

“A heart attack?”

“It could have been, Mr. President, or he could have expired due to the sickness that’s affecting everyone else in Idaho.”

“But this plane took off from Virginia, did it not?”

For the first time since becoming aware of the plane crash, the Chief of Staff understood the ramifications. If that pilot was based here and perished because of the sickness, that made him the first case outside of Idaho.

“You’re right, Mr. President!”

# # #

“Let’s not try to get anything too heavy or cumbersome. We might be able to pick some things up on the way or at Shoshone,” the Tall Man said.

“We should be able to …” Elliot stopped as he checked the time on his watch. “Damn!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Mulhaven told me not to be any longer than an hour. That was ten minutes ago. We better get moving!”

“I agree; we can’t split the group up for long periods. I’ll take this cart to the car while you fill yours. Then we’ll get moving.”

The wheels of the cart squeaked as the Tall Man pushed it down the aisle. This whole scene and the deserted streets had Elliot thinking of The Omega Man with Charlton Heston, except the eyes of the creatures Elliot faced were red, burning red.

“Let me check the back real quick for any more batteries, Elliot,” Cindy said, interrupting his thoughts.

“What? Oh yeah, all right.” Elliot was going to say no. He knew Cindy could more than handle herself, but by herself, he wasn’t so sure.

“I’ll come wiff ya, little girlie!” If anyone else but Neddy had said that, Cindy would have chewed them out big! But she liked Neddy. He seemed harmless enough.

Elliot relaxed, relieved that Cindy would not be alone. He returned to grabbing canned goods off the shelf and wondered how many people like themselves, survivors, were out there in Twin Falls or Boise or Lewiston. If you were to judge by the way people ate fries and potatoes in this state, then there probably weren’t a lot of survivors, which prompted another question.
Where are all the foamers then? Did they die too?

Elliot picked up an armful of soup cans and was about to put them into the cart when Cindy’s piercing scream made him jump back, dropping the cans, the edge of one can landing on top of his tennis-shoed foot, breaking his toe.

“Fuck!” Elliot cursed in pain, but he had no time to worry about that. “Cindy! Cindy! Where are you?” he called.

He remembered she said she was going to the back to look for something. Batteries. That’s right, batteries.

“Hold on, Cindy. I’m coming!”

Elliot burst through the double swinging doors of the storeroom, flashlight in one hand, the Redhawk in the other. He swept the room with his flashlight, over cardboard boxes and behind, but saw not a sign of Cindy or anyone else.

“Oh my God, Elliot! Help me, they’ve … they’ve got me, Elliot!”

Her plea was punctuated by another frightened scream that sent chills up Elliot’s spine. It was coming from the room next to this one. The cold room. When Elliot ran back outside, he was met by the Tall Man.

“I heard Cindy scream,” he said.

“She’s in here!” Elliot didn’t wait. He rushed into the cold room, the Tall Man by his side. The two pushed through the swinging doors, flashlight beams weaving erratically around the stacked boxes. A chomping sound like a pack of wild dogs tearing an old carcass apart was heard coming from behind a large pile of crates on one side, a whimpering moan accompanying the dreadful sound. Elliot moved around the crate, Redhawk held high.

“Help me, Elliot! Help me, please,” Cindy begged.

“Oh Jesus, Cindy!” Elliot froze with shock at the sight before him.

Cindy was on the ground, clawing her way forward. Several foamers had their hands on her, dragging her back by the legs. Neddy was behind her. It was all over for him. At least five foamers were at him—it was hard to be sure in the dark—tearing at his clothes, his skin, biting him, gnawing on him, eating him!

In the beam of the flashlight, Elliot saw the desperation in Cindy’s eyes. He also saw there was green foam over Cindy’s shirt.

“My God, she’s still alive. Help me kill these things!” he called out to the Tall Man. Elliot was too focused on Cindy’s plight to notice the Tall Man had a mournful look on his face. In the short time he’d known Neddy, he had come to like him, but he couldn’t let him die, not like this. Or worse, become one of those things!

“Elliot, hold your flashlight steady,” the Tall Man said. He brought out his Desert Eagle and fired a single shot, hitting Neddy squarely in his forehead.

“Grab her and pull when I tell you!” The Tall Man turned his attention to Cindy. There was no time for remorse.

“GO, GO, GO!” he yelled.

Elliot pulled her forward by the arm. Cindy screamed in pain and fright—she was being pulled in both directions, and it hurt.

Another three shots blasted from the Tall Man’s Desert Eagle. Elliot felt the give straight away and grabbed her other arm as well.

“C’mon, Cindy. Let’s go!”

Cindy kicked both her legs, freeing them from the weight of the foamer bastards. She wrapped her hands around Elliot’s wrists and held on tight.

“Get that shirt off, Cindy, and be careful you don’t get any of that stuff on you!” Elliot said.

A cardboard box fell over in the dark behind them. The Tall Man turned his flash around to see more foamers coming out from the dark corners.

“Hurry up. We’ve got more of these bastards coming!”

Elliot grabbed the front of her camo shirt and ripped the buttons off, spinning her around and pulling it from her shoulders, careful not to make contact with any of the green bile. He threw the shirt aside then pulled Cindy to him and held her tight. Her blue tank top didn’t quite match her camo pants, but no one was concerned with fashion at this point.

“Thank you, Elliot,” Cindy’s voice was barely above a whisper. “And you too, Chuck.”

She was starting to go into shock. After all that had happened to her in the last day and a half, it was amazing how well she’d held up, or any of them for that matter.

“Elliot, we have to get moving!”

“Okay, Chuck. Okay …” he said. “Let’s go!”

Fighting them in there in the dark with limited ammunition was a recipe for disaster. They knew that and had already discussed it back at the store. If they had to fight those things, they had to do it on their terms—not the foamers’. Elliot grabbed Cindy by the hand and led her out to the Saturn parked out front while the Tall Man covered their retreat.

“Now we know the foamers like the dark. Too bad we lost Neddy,” Elliot said.

“Yeah, too fuckin bad,” the Tall Man said. “Too fuckin bad!”

# # #

“I’m going to make an announcement,” the President said.

He’d called another meeting of his inner security cabinet. All were present except for Brian Flint from the CDC.

“As I see it, we don’t have much choice in the matter. It may start a panic, but if we put the right measures in place, I feel confident that we can avoid that from happening.”

The President looked around the group of men in the Oval Office. No one, including the President, had slept. No one except Richard Holmes.

“What do you think, Richard?” the president asked.

“I think you’re absolutely correct, sir. You should go on TV as soon as possible, sir.”

“Mr. President,” the Secretary of Defense said, “you realize the expenditure for any nationwide program designed to combat this disease is going to cost trillions?”

“Yes, I do, and your point is?”

“Sir, you would have to cut foreign aid completely, spend no more on military hardware or development, cut the defense spending to half or even less. Raise taxes to unprecedented levels, and do it so fast no one will have to time to digest it. Sir, you are headed on a road to political suicide.”

“Let me answer that, please, Mr. President.” Holmes stood up, buttoning his jacket as he prepared to challenge the Secretary of Defense. “Everything that’s happening in Idaho points to a near one hundred percent fatality rate. If this disease spreads across the country as forecast, it will do the same. Within a week, over three hundred million Americans will be dead or in the dead-like state of these
foamers
, as I believe they were being called by the National Guard. In other words, Mr. Secretary, there won’t be enough people to care or to vote or to do much of anything.”

“If that is true, Mr. Holmes,” the President said, “then a TV announcement is not going to help anyone very much, is it?”

“No, sir, I’m afraid not.”

“Then why did you say it was a good idea earlier?”

“Because you’re a man of conscience, sir. If you can’t do the right thing, you want to be seen as trying to do so.”

He was right, and everyone in the room hated to admit that Holmes could be right.

“Well, I have to go on TV and announce the reason for all the troops moving into Idaho.”

This caught Holmes off guard.

“Troops, sir? Into Idaho?”

“Yes, I’m sending in a half division of infantry and two battalions of engineers.”

“Engineers?” Holmes was at a loss.

“The infantry have been given orders to clean out the cities in Idaho. The engineers have been charged with the responsibility of building a mass grave for them.”

The President rose and thanked everyone for coming and asked that they stick to their tasks diligently.

“Troubled times, gentlemen,” he said. “Troubled times.”

# # #

The old Saturn pulled up in front of the store. Mulhaven was at the entrance.

“I told you one hour, Elliot. One fuckin’ hour!”

Elliot jumped from the car and escorted Cindy out. The Tall Man came up to Mulhaven.

“We ran into the foamers hiding in the cold room of the store. Neddy didn’t make it, and they nearly got Cindy,” he said.

Mulhaven walked into the back rooms. Elliot had put Cindy into bed and pulled the blankets up around her.

“I’m sorry, Elliot. Really sorry.” He put a hand on Elliot’s shoulder.