The Kill Order (21 page)

He heard a groan from the direction of Alec’s cot, and the thoughts floated away, pushed to the back of his mind to torment him later. But that feeling of terror he’d experienced in those last moments in the subtrans tunnel wouldn’t leave, lingering like the smoke from an extinguished fire.

“Oh … crap,” Alec said.

Mark popped up onto his elbow, looking in the direction of his friend. “What?”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Fine soldier I am. And I left the damn workpad on. We can forget using that thing again.”

“Meh, the battery was probably almost dead anyway,” Mark said. Though in truth, he’d have given anything for five more minutes of the device’s glow right then.

Alec groaned and Mark heard the sounds of the cot creaking as the older man got to his feet.

“We need to go find this guy’s coworkers. He said they were meeting farther down in the bunker. So we need to find our way to some stairs,” the man said.

“What do we do about him?” Mark pointed to Anton, forgetting for a second that Alec couldn’t see him in the darkness.

“Let him sleep out his sorrows. Come on.”

Mark took a moment to get his bearings, then got up and felt his way to the end of the cot toward the middle aisle of the room.

“How long do you think we slept?” he asked.

“No idea,” Alec answered. “Maybe two hours?”

They spent the next few minutes slowly making their way through the room and out into the hallway. The light above the door still
sputtered a bit, but barely enough to see by. They eventually found the stairwell Alec had been hoping for. Even the dim sight of it, mostly lines and edges of shadow descending into blackness, brought back to Mark the memory of the flood and their mad clamber up the stairs of the skyscraper. It’d been so close that day. If he’d known all that would come after, would he still have fought so hard to survive?

Yes
, he told himself. Yes, he would’ve. And he was going to find Trina and get out of hot water again. He almost laughed at his own joke.

“Let’s get on with it,” Alec whispered as he started down the steps.

Mark followed him, determined to stop dwelling on the past. He had to focus on the future or he’d never reach it.

The flight of stairs only descended three levels, though there was no exit until they reached the final one. They pushed through the door and found themselves in another hallway. They’d finally come upon the section of the bunker that used the raving generators above: a line of lights along the ceiling illuminated the passage. Unlike the hallway they’d come from, this one curved.

Mark shot a glance at Alec and they started down the hall. There were doors lining the walls, but Alec suggested that they explore the length of the corridor before they tried each one. They slipped along, as quietly as possible, and it wasn’t long before it became clear that the hallway was a giant crescent.

They’d traversed about half of what they could see of its length when Mark heard voices, then saw their source. Up ahead, on the left, there was a set of double doors, one propped all the way open. The sounds were coming from whatever was happening in that room. A gathering of some sort, men and women talking over each other so that Mark couldn’t make out a single word being said. Anton’s meeting, his coworkers.

Alec slowed as he approached the room, and carefully stepped
forward until he was right next to it, his back pressed against the closed door. He turned to look at Mark, shrugged as if to say it’s now or never, then craned his neck toward the opening and leaned in for a peek. Mark held his breath, remembering all too well that they had no weapons.

Alec pulled his head back and sidled a couple feet toward Mark. “It’s an auditorium. It’s pretty big, seats about two hundred, maybe. They’re all down at the bottom watching some guy on the stage.”

“How many are there?” Mark whispered.

“At least forty. Maybe fifty. No sign of our friends, as far as I can tell. They all seem to be arguing about something, but I can’t tell what they’re saying.”

“So what do we do?” Mark asked. “Keep going? This hall can’t go on much longer.”

“If we get down on our hands and knees we can crawl in there and down the back. We can hide in a corner over on the right. I think we need to hear what these people are saying.”

Mark agreed. They didn’t know who these people were or what they were up to, but it seemed like the only way to find out. The safest way, at least. “Okay, let’s do it.”

They crouched on all fours and got ready, Mark right behind Alec. The soldier leaned forward to take a look around the edge of the door; then he started crawling into the large room. Mark followed, feeling almost naked as they entered the open air of the auditorium. But no one was close to the back—the voices were all coming from below and sounded far enough away. And judging from the fact that they all seemed to be talking at once, Mark had a feeling they weren’t on the alert for intruders.

Alec crawled along the last row, his side pressed against the black plastic of the chairs, until he got all the way to the far right side of the room, where the corner was shadowed in darkness. He stopped
and situated himself, his legs crossed, his body wedged into the space between the last chair and the wall. Mark moved to sit next to him. He had to tuck himself in closer than was comfortable in order to stay as hidden as possible.

Alec stretched up and peeked over the chair in front of them, then sank down again quickly.

“Can’t see much. Seems like they’re waiting for something to begin. Or maybe they’re taking a break. I don’t know.”

Mark closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. They sat there for what seemed like forever. At least ten excruciating minutes passed with nothing changing. Just the buzz of mixed conversation. Then, suddenly, a blur of movement made him catch his breath. A man had walked into the auditorium from the hallway, a quick flash of motion as he entered and began walking down the aisle toward the front. Mark breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t been seen.

The crowd grew quiet and still, the room dropping into an almost eerie silence. Mark could actually hear the man’s footsteps as he reached the bottom of the room and climbed a set of stairs onto the stage.

“I’ll take over from here, Stanley,” a deep voice said, echoing off the ceiling even though he’d said it softly. Acoustics.

“Thanks, Bruce,” came the reply from Stanley, a man with a much higher voice. “Everyone give him your full attention.”

There was the sound of someone descending the stairs and then the rattle of him sitting in one of the chairs. When silence fell once again, the newcomer began to speak.

“Let’s get this started, people. It won’t be long before we all lose our minds.”

As if the man’s opening statement wasn’t bizarre enough, the crowd clapped and cheered after he said it, making Mark shiver. Bruce waited for it to die down on its own before he spoke again. Mark was anxious to hear what the guy would say next.

“Frank and Marla are back from a flyby of the areas around Asheville. Just as we thought, they’ve shored up those walls nice and tight. Humanity and charity, my friends? Those days are long gone. The PFC has created an army of monsters, people who used to be willing to give the shirt off their backs for a neighbor in need. No longer. Those scumbags in Alaska and North Carolina—our very own Asheville—have turned their backs on the settlements once and for all. Worse, they’ve turned their backs on us.
Us!
”

This elicited a chorus of angry shouts, stomping of feet and banging on the armrests of the chairs. The noises echoed through the room until Bruce started talking again.

“They sent us here!” he shouted. His voice was louder now. “They assigned us to take part in the worst civil rights fiasco since the War of 2020. A holocaust! But they were firm that it was for the survival of the human race. They said it was to save what little resources we have, to be able to feed those people they deemed
worthy
to live. But who are they to decide who’s worthy?” He paused for a moment before he continued. “Well, ladies and gentlemen, it seems that we are not worthy. They sent us here to do their dirty work and now they’ve decided to cut us off. Who are
they
, I ask all of you!”

He practically screamed the last sentence and once again sent the crowd into a fit of near hysterics. People screamed and stomped their feet. The roar made Mark’s temples throb and the inside of his forehead ache. He thought it might never end, but it did, abruptly. He imagined that Bruce had made a gesture to silence them.

“Here’s where we stand,” the man said, much calmer. “The test subjects are getting more fanatical in their odd little religious cult by the day. We’ve made a deal with them. They wanted the little girl back. Seems that they want to sacrifice her to their newfound spirits. I think they’ve passed the point of no return. They’re beyond any help we could give them. They can barely go a day without fighting each other, reorganizing factions, starting over until they battle again. But we made a deal with the few who still seem to be operating on some sane level—I’m sick and tired of worrying who’s going to jump out of a tree and attack me every time I walk outside.”

He paused, allowed a long, lingering moment of silence. “We gave them the little girl and the two women we found with her. I know it’s harsh, but it buys us a little time where we don’t have to worry about those people. I don’t want to waste the precious ammo we have left defending ourselves against a cult.”

Mark suddenly had a rushing sound in his ears. The little girl. The two women.
Gave them
. The things Anton had said back in the bunk room. It all thudded in his mind, made him tremble. He thought back to how crazy those people at the bonfire were, and a situation he’d thought couldn’t get worse did just that. They’d wasted all this time in the bunker and their friends weren’t even there anymore.

Bruce was still talking, but Mark couldn’t focus on the words. He leaned in to speak in Alec’s ear. “How could they have given them to those …
people
? We have to go. Who knows what those psychos will do to them!”

Alec held a hand out to urge calm. “I know. We will. But remember the reason we came here. Let’s hear what this man has to say, then we’ll go. I promise. Lana means as much to me as Trina does to you.”

Mark nodded, leaned back into the wall again. Tried to listen to what Bruce was saying down on the stage.

“—fire is out, thanks to the latest storm that rolled in a couple of hours ago. The sky’s black, but the flames are dead. We’re going to be dealing with mudslides all over the place. The test subjects all fled to the half-burnt mountain homes, by the looks of it. Hopefully they’ll stay put awhile before they get desperate and march on Asheville for food. But I think we’re safe to head over to the city in the next day or two. Force our way in, demand our rights. We’ll go by foot and hope to surprise them.”

There were a few worried murmurs before he continued. “Look, we can’t deny that we’re dealing with our own outbreak now. We’ve all seen the symptoms, right here in our
safe
house. There’s just no way our superiors would’ve agreed to unleash this virus without having something to reverse its effects. And I say that they’ll give it to us or they’ll all die. Even if we have to go all the way to Alaska to do it. We know they have a Flat Trans at their headquarters. We’ll go through it and make them give us what we deserve!”

More cheers and pounding feet thundered through the air.

Mark shook his head. These people were obviously unstable. There was a wild energy in the room, like they were a nest of vipers, tensing to strike. Whatever the reason for spreading this virus, it was clear what it did to people: it made them crazy, and it appeared to be taking more time to do it as it spread. And if Asheville, the largest surviving city within hundreds of miles, really had erected walls to keep itself safe from the disease, things must be bad. Then the last thing anyone needed was a bunch of infected soldiers running through the streets. And the Flat Trans …

Mark’s head still pounded and throbbed and it was hard to sort out his thoughts. He knew he had to focus on Trina, getting her back. But what about all this new information? He elbowed Alec, gave him a look that said his patience was running out.

“Soon, boy,” the man whispered. “Never skip a chance to get intel. Then we’ll go find our friends. I swear it.”

Mark wasn’t willing to sacrifice Trina for information. Not after what they’d been through to survive this long. He couldn’t wait much longer.

The room had grown quiet again.

“The
Post- … Flares … Coalition
.” Bruce pronounced every word with exaggerated diction and spite. “Who do these people think they are? Gods? They can just choose to wipe out the entire eastern half of the United States? Like the PFC has more right to live than anyone else?”

There was another long pause after that. Mark couldn’t take it anymore. He crawled around Alec and slowly peeked over the chair to take a look. Bruce was a large man with a bald head that shone in the dull light, his face pale and scruffy with a few days’ worth of beard. The muscles of his arms and shoulders bulged against a tight black shirt as he stood with hands clasped in front of him, staring at the floor. If Mark hadn’t heard all the things the man had just said, he’d think he could be praying.

“Don’t feel bad, friends. We couldn’t have said no to what they asked us to do,” Bruce said, slowly raising his eyes to gaze at his captive audience again. “We had no choice. They used the very resources they’re trying to preserve against us. We have to eat, too, right? It’s not our fault the virus wasn’t quite what they expected. All we can do is what we’ve done since the sun flares struck the Earth: fight tooth and nail to
live
. Darwin taught about survival of the fittest in the natural world. Well, the
PFC is trying to cheat nature. It’s time to stand up for ourselves. We … will …
live
!”

Another raucous round of cheers and whistles and clapping and foot pounding went on for a good minute or two. Mark slinked back to sit next to Alec, feeling stronger than ever that they had to get moving. He was just about to say something when the crowd fell silent and Bruce’s voice filled the room like the amplified hiss of a snake.