The Beginning of the End (Book 1): Toward the Brink (9 page)

Mulhaven shook his head. He was trying to make sense out of this whole situation and wasn’t having any luck whatsoever. “There’s been a clampdown on all news coming out from there even before the Guard arrived.”

“I’m not letting Cindy out of my sight!” Elliot said.

Cindy reached over from the back seat and squeezed Elliot’s shoulder. She’d been shocked and scared when he shot that inhuman thing outside the medical center. However, now that she understood how severe things were, her feelings had grown even stronger for Elliot.

“I don’t know what the full extent of this crisis is, but I think we should stick together too. Leave it with me; I’ll think of something.” Mulhaven sighed.

“We need to leave this place.” Elliot kept his eyes straight ahead.

“Leave Twin Falls?”

“No. The country!”

Conversation stopped as the three inside the police SUV contemplated Elliot’s last statement.

Mulhaven broke the silence when Elliot pulled over to the curb. “What are you doing?”

“I need to change this shirt before we get there.”

“Just throw it out, Elliot.”

Elliot tore the blood and brain-stained shirt off and flung it into an open industrial waste container next to an empty auto parts store.

“I can’t believe how fast the city has evacuated,” he said as he jumped back in the driver’s seat.

“I think word of mouth spreads faster in a smaller city like this. Before all the phones went down or whatever happened, information spread from the medical center.”

“What’s with the phones not working? Elliot and I got through to our parents, so what’s happening?” Cindy asked. The two men stayed silent, mulling things over.

Only a few blocks from the entrance to the base, a vision of enlightenment came to Elliot. “The sickness. It’s spreading. That’s why the phones aren’t being answered. That has to be it!”

# # #

“Jesus, they’re going to break the door down any moment.
Do
something!” The civilian employee had lost control. The other three were just as terrified, but they were better at not letting their fear show.

“Get behind us!” the chief yelled.

He and the two uniformed officers with him had taken cover behind a stack of boxes. With weapons drawn, they were ready to face the unimaginable on the other side of the door.

Another thud, and the door splintered through the middle.

“This is it! Aim for the head. One shot, one kill. Okay?”

“Yes sir!” was the firm reply from the officers while the civilian cowered on the floor.

The door split open; the hinge side swung in while the lock side bounced across the floor then crashed into some storage shelves. Sounds not unlike the cracking of a lobster shell could be heard as 9mm lead projectiles cracked the skulls of once fellow officers. Green ooze sloshed onto the wall, and the former cops made sickening thumps as they fell on top of one another.

“Hold it; hold your fire.” The chief rose from his position. “That’s the last of them.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure, but let me check.” With care, the chief moved toward the open door.

“Easy, sir. Some of those things are still moving.”

The police chief looked down at the pile of bodies of possessed demons. He had to look at them in that way. There must have been a dozen at least, and many thrashed about like fish out of water.

“Nerves. It’s just nerves.”

The chief eased around the edges of the bodies as he walked backwards toward the door, keeping an eye on them just in case.

“CHIEF!”

An arm reached around the side of the doorframe from the other room, grabbing the chief around the neck. He was pulled through without a struggle. The two remaining officers ran to the door in a flash, pistols at the ready. Neither one saw the hands that grabbed their ankles.

“Oh my God, oh my God! Help me, please! Someone help me!” the civilian administrator cried out when he witnessed his last chance of possible rescue being pulled to the floor. A figure in a Twin Falls police uniform appeared at the doorway. The uniform was, however, the only resemblance it still bore to a cop. The white-chalk complexion gave it the look of death, but the burning, red eyes were those of a demon. The figure held out its hand for the petrified administrator to see. He couldn’t make out what it was at first, but when he looked harder, his eyes grew wide, and his mouth quivered. The walls of the storeroom vibrated from the fearful scream that followed. In the bloodied fingers of this vision of evil was the heart of the chief of police—still beating.

# # #

Elliot stopped the SUV on the road. There were cars were parked on either side, but there was no traffic coming or going.

“What is it? The base is just up ahead.” Mulhaven pointed to the gates that could be seen a half a mile or so away.

“If I was told to evacuate the city, I’m pretty sure I’d take my car. Wouldn’t you?” Elliot asked.

“Yeah, of course. Be damned if I’d walk,” Mulhaven replied.

“Then look.” Elliot gestured to the cars on the side of the road. “And we passed many more on the way here. Judging by the spaces, some made it out, but if the cars we have seen only represent one person, then there are a hell of a lot left in Twin Falls.”

“What are you thinking, Elliot?” Cindy asked.

“The sickness is affecting more than those at the medical center, and as I said, I believe that is the reason why there are communications problems.”

“That’s an awful lot of people, Elliot.” Mulhaven said.

“I know, but remember what that son of a bitch captain said? That it’s spread all across the state.”

“We need to know more about what’s going on, and I could find that out at the Guard base.”

“But we could get pulled in even deeper.” Elliot looked at Mulhaven. “I suggest we keep going, get out of here before we get killed by the foamers or the Guard. I don’t want to be around when the shooting starts.”

“I agree with Elliot. This city is going to be one big turkey shoot soon, and anyone not in a military or police uniform will be the turkeys,” Cindy said.

“Looks like I’m outvoted then,” Mulhaven said. “We’re going to need some supplies.”

“I run—well, my Dad and I run—a surplus store. We can get most of what we need there,” Elliot said.

“Okay, then let’s do it!” Mulhaven said.

They’d driven a few blocks when the police radio crackled and came to life. All eyes in the SUV fixed on the dashboard.

# # #

The Tall Man drove the white Saturn toward Twin Falls. He knew something was more than wrong. Langlie ordering him to remove Dennard while Langlie burned his own house down, and only a meager two and half million dollar house at that. The Hidden One wanting details on Langlie’s movements then becoming indifferent, telling the Tall Man that he needed to board a plane that he knew would be his last flight. When Mrs. Dennard turned into some sort of a zombie, he believed that to be part of the hastily made exit. But Langlie didn’t make plans on the spot. Like himself, the troubleshooter for Baer Industries schemed well ahead. The episode at the farmhouse was the icing on the cake. It confirmed that the shit had hit
more
than just the fan.

When he neared a strip of stores, the Tall Man saw a mass of people running down the street: young people, probably from the college since they were coming from that area. The manner in which they ran, looking behind every few yards, suggested they were being pursued, but he couldn’t see anything.

“Those things I saw at the farm,” he said as he brought the Saturn to a stop. “Those fuckin’ zombie things!”

He pulled the Desert Eagle from his shoulder holster. Removing the clip, he checked the ammo. He had an extra two full clips and what remained in this one, but he would want more—much more!

He lifted his head up when he heard the sound of horns being blown. Three cars careened toward his position on both sides of the road, and they didn’t look interested in stopping. He threw the Saturn into drive and dashed into an empty parking space on the side. The drivers yelled abuse at each other as they raced by. More and more people poured onto the street from all directions. The Tall Man began doubting his decision not to take the flight out.
Maybe they wouldn’t have tried to eliminate me after all?

“Yeah, and I’m the President of the United Fucking States!”

A small gun store caught his attention. It appeared locked judging by the security screen, but he had to get ammo. He took note of where all those in flight were before he got out and pounded on the door.

“Hey, anyone in there?” he yelled. “I need ammo. I’m almost out. I’ve got money; I can pay.”

He heard no immediate answer but was sure he heard the sound of someone—he hoped it was a someone and not a
something
—shuffling around inside.

“Please, I need some ammo!” he pounded on the door. He did his best to sound distraught in hopes that whoever was inside would take pity and open up. The truth was the Tall Man
was
desperate. The lock on the security grate didn’t look all that substantial. He’d slid his hand inside his coat, gripping the butt of the .357 Magnum, when there was the sound of a lock being turned. He left his equalizer in the holster, letting his hand fall away.

No sudden movements. No sudden movements.

The door pulled back no more than a few inches. There was enough room, however, for the muzzle of a double-barrel shotgun to poke through.

“Yer hands,” a voice on the other side said. “Let me see yer hands!”

The steady beat of running feet pounding on concrete paths interspersed with the occasional passing car accompanied the tense moment like a musical score to a bad chase movie. The Tall Man didn’t take his eyes from the muzzle of the shotgun.

“Turn around. Let me see the back o’ ya … and do it real easy, mister. Know what I mean?”

While his back was turned, the sound of a key sliding into the lock was heard, and the metal security screen squeaked as it was pushed back.

“All right, come on in, but I’m warnin’ ya. I’m keepin’ this shotgun on ya at all times!”

# # #

“… Get out. If anyone can hear me, you
have
to get out,” said a weak voice over the police radio. “There isn’t much time. You have to …”

A burst of static followed then nothing. No one said a word after the bleak message.

“Well, someone was able to get a message out.” Cindy finally broke the silence after nearly a full minute.

“I can’t imagine why the emergency alert system hasn’t been activated.” Mulhaven said.

“No one around to activate it most likely.”

Mulhaven nodded, and Cindy raised her eyebrows. Elliot was probably right, but he was just so gloomy.

“Let’s get to the store and get our supplies before dark,” Mulhaven said. As an afterthought, he quickly added, “Do you have guns and ammo?”

“No, the only weapons we have are crossbows and hunting bows and some knives of course.”

“Well, that might actually serve our purpose better,” Mulhaven said.

“What purpose is that?” Cindy asked.

“To survive, young lady. To survive.”

“Sir, you’re to go right in. They’re expecting you,” a Secret Service agent said when the Hidden One entered the hallway to the Oval Office. He then opened the door and announced the arrival. “Mr. Holmes from DTRA, sir,” he announced to the gathering but looked directly at the President.

“Thank you, Jim,” the President said then looked to his new arrival. “Good to see you again, Richard.”

“Thank you, Mr. President. It’s always good to see you again.” The two observed the routine and shook hands. There was no affinity between them. “I only wish it wasn’t always under such dire circumstances that we meet.”

“Yes, exactly what I was thinking, Richard.” The President always thought he was dealing with the devil whenever his path crossed that of Richard Holmes.

Holmes was a former CIA official who now worked with the Defense Threat Reduction Agency. There was many a rumor around the Pentagon and the White House that the DTRA worked for him. His position was important enough to warrant a private jet on standby at whatever given city he happened to be in, with stretch limousines at his beck and call. He was also said to be a member of a shady, and as yet unproven, association of wealthy industrialists, royal family members, bankers, mining magnates, oil tycoons, politicians, and former high-ranking military officers known only as “the Chamber,” who had as their goal world domination.

“Gentlemen,” the President said to everyone who had gathered in the Oval Office for this extraordinary meeting, “Mr. Holmes has been on the ground in every area where the outbreaks have begun. I think it only fitting we hear his assessment of the situation.”

“Thank you, Mr. President.” Holmes stood in front of a very selective group. The Joint Chiefs were all present, as were the directors of the CIA, NSA, and CDC. The Secretaries of Defense, State, Homeland, and Justice were also present. He wasn’t nervous at all. He had worked with and addressed all of these men at one time or another. This was, however, the first time he had addressed all at the same time.

“The situation on the ground in Idaho is bordering on the untenable. As every minute passes, more people, including National Guard and all response units, are succumbing to the disease.”

Holmes paused as he judged the reactions of everyone present.

“I don’t know what—if any—communications have been established,” he continued. “I was informed on my flight out that all phone lines seem to be down. Is that correct?”

“Ah, sir,” White House Chief of Staff Dan Lonnegan handed a sheaf of papers to Holmes. “The latest report is on top.”

“Thank you.” Holmes scanned the information as quickly as he could. The only thing that piqued his interest was that the National Guard had organized satellite communications.

“And have we heard anything from the Guard?” Holmes looked directly at Dan Lonnegan when he asked, but it was the Secretary of State that replied.

“We’ve had sporadic communication from various cities in Idaho that seem to be suffering the most at the moment: Nampa, Pocatello, Idaho Falls, Twin Falls, Lewiston, and few others. They’ve put themselves into a position of containment, but forces are spread thin. We have backup from the police and the sheriff’s office of course, but it’s still a lot of ground to cover. What’s disturbing is that about an hour or so ago, we lost all contact with the Guard units around the Boise/Meridian area.”