Extinction Horizon

-23-

Jensen chomped furiously on a stick of bubble gum. He’d run out of chewing tobacco earlier that morning and without it he was starting to get the sweats. What shitty timing, he thought as he looked out the observation deck window.

Somewhere out there, hundreds of aircraft were preparing to embark on Operation Depletion—the mission that would take back the United States.

The interim U.S. President had authorized the mission after new CDC Director Jed Frank explained Dr. Lovato’s weaponized virus would kill everyone infected with X9H9. Any survivors inside the cities that came into contact with the bioweapon would see no side effects. Tests on rhesus monkeys had proven she was right. The new President didn’t need convincing. He was desperate, and he was willing to sacrifice many to save a few.

In less than a week, what was left of the military had organized a massive counter strike. Plum Island coordinated the manufacturing of the weapon with two secure facilities across the country. Together they had produced enough VariantX9H9 to deploy in every major metropolitan area. The technology that had manufactured the bioweapon wasn’t supposed to exist, but neither was the secret weapons program at Building 8.

Jensen wasn’t sure exactly how it worked, but he was told that the manufacturing process was modeled after a rapid production system in place for the synthetic influenza vaccines developed in 2013 and early 2014. Plum Island had been built with a manufacturing and distribution center based on this automated process. The result was a rapid development and production of VariantX9H9 that was highly lethal over a significant area.

They were just beginning the coordination with allied nations, but the main focus was on American soil. Rid the cities of the infected and send in the troops to clean up the rest. It was going to be messy, and he doubted there were many survivors left to save.

He shuddered at the ramifications. Even if Operation Depletion did work, the country would never be the same. The population had been reduced to God knew how many people, and the economy was shattered.

The radio at the other end of the CIC blared to life. Corporal Hickman turned her dial and gave a thumbs up. “Lieutenant Colonel, we’re tapped in. ACC has fighters scrambling out of Langley. The squadron is on their way to New York. ETA fifteen minutes.”

Jensen felt his blood warm. Some of the best pilots in the world were headed straight for America’s favorite city to finish what Operation Reaper had started.

“Strike teams are on standby,” Major Smith said. “Beckham and his men are waiting for orders.”

“Thank you, Major,” Jensen said. He closed his eyes, pushing away what felt like emotion-fueled reservations. He was asking the man to go back into the field. After all he had already been through, it was yet another sacrifice.

But Jensen had his orders. General Kennor had taken over Central Command. Brass had assigned each remaining installation a bailiwick of cities to recon after the gas was deployed. Plum Island had picked up New York and a handful of other eastern cities. He was sending Master Sergeant Beckham to lead a strike team to the city after the jets dropped their payloads. Their mission was simple reconnaissance to see how VariantX9H9 worked in the field.

The radio flickered. “Command, this is Raptor, target inbound. Request permission to engage, over.”

Command responded a second later. “Roger that, Raptor. Green light to engage.”

Smith joined Jensen. “Think this is going to work?”

Jensen nodded. The sun was rising over the dark waves, a crimson glow spreading a carpet of light over the ocean. The beautiful view felt oddly divine.

“Approaching target,” Raptor said. “Stand by.”

The radio chatter reminded Jensen that the pilot was seeing the exact opposite view. His jet was racing toward a post-apocalyptic New York City. Jensen had seen the images. Many of the once spectacular landmarks had been reduced to rubble.

“Weapons hot,” Raptor said.

Jensen closed his eyes. He knew what came next.

Kate sat in the conference room staring at her computer, skimming the test results of VariantX9H9 to see if there was anything she had missed. Outside the safety of the island, the military was busy working too. They were dumping her bioweapon on every major city. And in just a few hours, Beckham would be deployed back to the post-apocalyptic world that surrounded them.

Guilt ate at her as she sat there. She was so lucky. Lucky to be protected and safe when everyone else was fighting for survival—lucky that she wasn’t out there.

By the time Kate had brushed her teeth and showered it was nearing 10 a.m. The landing strip outside the hexagon-shaped base was teeming with activity. Groups of Marines were preparing their gear outside a trio of Blackhawks. Another chopper was already lifting into the sky. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw it pull away from the island.

Was she too late? Had Beckham’s team already left?

“Hey! Dr. Lovato,” came an enthusiastic voice.

Kate spun to see Riley approaching. He stopped a few feet away and hoisted his huge pack on his back with a grunt.

“You aren’t coming with us, are you?”

“No, no,” Kate replied, shaking her head. “I just wanted to say good luck.”

Riley nodded. “That’s nice of you.” He jerked his head toward the closest Blackhawk. “Boss is over here.”

Kate tried to keep up with the man.

When they got to the chopper, Beckham was preparing his CBRN suit. He glanced up, a smile instantly forming on his face when he saw her.

“Kate,” he said.

It was different seeing the shy side of Beckham—the side she’d only seen a few times before. Back in Atlanta he’d shown no emotion. His focus had been only on saving her and the others.

“Thought I would see you off,” she said. “Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?”

Beckham set the CBRN suit carefully on the ground and wiped his hands on his pants. “Of course not. We aren’t leaving for another hour or so. Just doing a gear check.”

Kate scanned their equipment. They looked like they were preparing for a weeklong trip. “How long will you be gone?”

“Should only be for a few days,” Beckham said. “Maybe longer. Depends on how long it takes for the bug you made to do its work.”

The words chilled her. She suddenly wondered what he really thought of her, what everyone really thought of her. Would she be seen as a savior or a monster?

“Shit,” Beckham muttered. He stepped closer. “I didn’t mean—”

Shaking her head, she brushed a strand of hair blowing in the breeze. “It’s okay.” She changed the subject and said, “What are your orders?”

“Simple,” he replied. “We’re supposed to serve as an extra set of eyes. Nothing more. If we’re engaged, we retreat to a safe location,” Beckham added. He reached into his rucksack and hoisted a pale green square that read Front Toward Enemy on it. “And if we run into trouble, we’ve got backup this time.”

“Is that a bomb of some kind?”

Beckham grinned and said, “It’s a mine. Also called a claymore. If anything survived out there that shouldn’t, this’ll finish the job.” He caught her gaze. “We’ll be fine, Kate.”

Fine. Safe.

The words boomed inside her mind. They no longer held the same meaning.

Riley dropped his rucksack and interjected, “Do you think we’ll find survivors out there?”

Kate snapped from her thoughts. She attempted to mask the dread she felt, the sadness that was slowly sweeping over her.

“I would say so,” said a louder voice. “I’m sure there are people out there that hunkered down and stayed safe.”

Horn approached from the rear, his skull mask already covering his mouth and nose. “There are survivors everywhere, right?” His voice was muffled slightly, but she could hear every hint of apprehension.

Kate remembered his family had been at Fort Bragg. She knew the likelihood they had survived was slim, but still she nodded. “Yes, that’s why the new POTUS wanted to deploy VariantX9H9 as soon as possible. To save those that still remain.”

Horn nodded. He and Riley walked to their stack of gear, leaving Beckham and Kate alone.

“Good luck,” she said to their backs. She didn’t know what else to say, but felt like she should do more than just wish them luck. Before she could find the words, Beckham reached for her.

“Kate, I promise you everything will be fine.”

In that moment she lost all control of her emotions. Her breath caught and tears filled her eyes. Everything that had happened in the past few weeks came crashing to a point. She reached forward and wrapped her arms around Beckham.

He rubbed her back gently as she sobbed into his shoulder.

“You’re saving everyone,” he whispered.

Kate pulled away. Tilting her head back, she locked eyes with him. “Am I?”

“Yes,” Beckham said firmly. “I was wrong before,” he said. “Those things aren’t human. Patient 14 was no longer a person. Those things are monsters. And I would want to die if I became one, too.”

The rap of heavy footfalls on the concrete reminded Kate the clock was ticking. The recon teams were preparing to leave and she was in the way.

Reluctantly, she pulled out of his grip and wiped the tears away. She didn’t want Beckham or the other men to see her like this.

He searched her eyes. “You’re going to make it through this.”

A short nod and she wiped away a final tear. “Promise me you’re coming back.”

“I promise, Kate. I’ll be back before you know it.”

A soldier Kate didn’t recognize interrupted them. “Master Sergeant Beckham, the lieutenant colonel wants to see you before you take off.”

“Before you go, I have something for you,” Kate said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small envelope, handing it to Beckham. Before he could open it she was already walking away.

Kate listened to the Blackhawks take off in the distance. The thump of the blades slowly dissipated until they had faded completely. She watched the final chopper disappear on the horizon.

“Good luck,” she whispered.

When she reached Building 4 Ellis was waiting at the entrance, flanked on both sides by guards.

“Everything okay?” he asked as she approached.

Kate had forgotten she’d been crying and wiped at her eyes. “Yes. I was told there is something we should see.” She opened the door and gestured for Ellis to go first.

One of the technicians waited inside for them. Kate recognized him as the one who had given Patient 14 the lethal dose of VariantX9H9.

“Thank you for coming, doctors. I thought you both should see this.”

Kate followed him from room to room, pausing to peer through the small oval windows above each door. The sight through the glass was grotesque. The patients all lay in puddles of their own blood.

“They’re all dead,” Ellis said. “A good sign.”

“Not all of them,” the tech replied.

Kate’s heart fluttered when she heard the words. The modified virus should have killed all of them by now.

The man stopped in the middle of the hallway and pointed to the door on his left. “Take a look for yourself.”

Before Kate had a chance to look through the window a man pressed his face against the glass. He stood there staring at Kate, studying her. Yellow slits stared back at her, blinking rapidly. Red swirled around his sclera, but they were no longer the bright rose-colored eyes she was used to seeing.

After a short scan she saw there were no signs of fresh bleeding from his eyes or nose and the rashes on his skin looked like they were scarring. The patient curled his fingers into a claw and scratched at the wall, growling.

“This is Patient 12,” the tech said. “As you can see he is far from dead.”

Kate watched the man purse his sucker lips on the other side of the window, revealing a set of broken and jagged teeth. She didn’t understand. How could this man have recovered? There had to be some sort of mistake.

“Have there been other reports of infected victims recovering?” Kate asked.

The tech quickly shook his head. “No, I just looked over the reports we got from a team in Chicago this morning. There has not been a single documented case of recovery.” He paused and then very confidently said, “Ever.”

“And you are sure this man was given VariantX9H9?”

He nodded. “Yes, I administered it myself earlier this morning when Major Smith ordered all of the remaining specimens to be put down.”

Kate felt her mind spinning in all directions. It had to be something about the synthesized virus she’d engineered, but none of it made any sense. The weapon was designed to ensure the victim would bleed out quickly. So why was this man still alive?

“Maybe this guy was just—” Ellis began to say.

“Keep an eye on him, and get me a sample of his blood,” Kate said, hurrying down the hallway.

“Where are you going?” Ellis shouted.

“Back to the lab.”