Straight to business, the
Chairman said, “Give me an update on Doctor Hawkins’ Malectron.”
The Commandant of the Marine Corps spoke up, “Progress is slow
, but the results have been impressive. As we already know, the device repels up to eighty percent of the dead on a consistent basis. Hawkins has been working to improve on this and has already completed an upgraded model.”
“Eighty percent,” The Chief of Naval operations spoke up. “That’s more than we need. With so many of the planet
’s population dead, that would give us an army the likes of which has never been seen.”
“The problem is the other twenty percent,” The
Commandant replied. “They aren’t repelled by the Malectron, but are actually drawn to it. The second test resulted in casualties to both the scientists and their military escort, so the third test was delayed until a more effective unit could be developed.”
“And when will
that be finished?” The chairman asked.
Holding up a sheet of paper, the
Commandant said, “They’re done with it now, and that’s something else we need to discuss.” Donning his reading glasses, he continued, “The first test was conducted in Clarksville, Arkansas where a group of survivors had barricaded themselves inside one of the local municipal buildings and had attracted a large group of the dead. Two of the units were set up on either side of its parking lot and alternately turned on and off. This resulted in the dead moving back and forth and was hailed as a success. The problem was that the units were facing each other, and no one knew that some of the dead weren’t being pushed away, but attracted.”
“We
’ve read the reports and know all that,” the Chief of the Air Force interjected. “Please get to the point.”
“I am,” The Commandant told him. “What you don’t know is how the Doctor
conducted his follow-up experiment and what he wants to do next. I understand that we all agreed to go ahead with this project, but there are a few things coming to light that you need to be aware of.”
The
Chairman made a ‘come on’ gesture with his hand, so the Commandant continued, “The second test showed a flaw in the Malectron at the cost of seven of the military escort, two of the scientists on the project and a number of civilians estimated to be between seventy-five and one-hundred.”
“Civilians
?” Questioned the Chief of Naval Operations.
“That’s what I’m getting at,” The Commandant said as he pulled his reading glasses off and tossed them on the table in front of him. “It seems that on one of their foraging missions into the surrounding area
in search of test subjects, the platoon assigned to Doctor Hawkins came across a group of survivors living near a local reservoir. The Doctor was with them and convinced the lieutenant leading the mission not to approach the compound or bring the people into a relief center because he needed them for his next test. He assured him his test would be used to save these people and that they wouldn’t be at risk.”
This was followed by a pause so long that it caused one of the other chiefs to ask, “And?”
“He lied,” the Commandant said with disgust. “Doctor Hawkins was trying to figure out what part of the Malectron attracts the dead, so he put a reverse engineered, souped-up version of the device inside the compound the civilians had secured. It was made to draw in the dead, rather than repel them.”
“How did he manage
to do that?” Asked the Naval Chief.
Picking up the report in front of him, The Commandant said, “He had the lieutenant in charge of his security force and his men act like they discovered the civilians on a routine patrol. The search and rescue teams all carry MRE
’s to be distributed to groups of refugees that are too large to bring in immediately, so he had a Malectron hidden in one of the boxes. This reprehensible act probably would have gone unreported, but the device was activated while the soldiers were still in the civilians’ compound. The lieutenant and his men had to fight their way out when over a thousand dead converged on their position within a few minutes. The lieutenant lost several of his people and the civilians were wiped out. When the lieutenant rejoined the scientists running the experiment, he found that they too were besieged. A group of more than thirty dead that had been attracted to the compound came across their observation area. At first sight of them, Doctor Hawkins fled in one of the Humvees. The rest of his people were cut off from the vehicles and had to climb trees in order to save themselves. The lieutenant eventually rescued them and they left the area. Two of them didn’t make it.”
An uneasy silence fell over the table.
The Chairman broke this by saying, “The sacrifice of the few…”
To the Commandant
’s shock, this was picked up on by the Naval Chief saying excitedly, “So the experiment was a success. If we can use the Malectron to attract the dead as well repel them, we’ll have one hell of a weapon. It could be used in both a defensive and offensive role.”
Looking around to see if anyone else found horror in
his report, and in the reaction of these two men, the Commandant was dismayed to find everyone eagerly leaning forward to hear more about the Malectron. His intent was to get some backing in order to rein in Doctor Hawkins, but apparently his report had the opposite effect. None of them were strangers to losing men in combat, but the death of innocent civilians was something that should have caused an uproar around the table. Instead, the military applications of the Malectron had taken precedence, and the loss of nearly a hundred people was disregarded in their excitement upon hearing about a weapon of almost unlimited power.
Knowing he was outnumbered
, the Commandant put on his poker face and continued in a neutral tone, “And that brings us to the third test that Doctor Hawkins is requesting. When his use of civilians came to light, I temporarily put a hold on any more field experiments until I could bring this in front of the Joint Chiefs. It seems Hawkins has come across another group of survivors and wants to test the latest version of his device in the area around them.”
Hoping the first question asked would be if the civilians would be put in harm’s way,
he was disappointed to hear the Chairman ask, “How soon can Hawkins do it?”
“He’s ready now
, sir. All he’s waiting for is the go ahead from us, sir.” the Commandant replied.
Looking at the men seated around the table, the Chairman said, “It appears the Malectron is in its final stages. To hold it up now would be an injustice
to the people of the United States of America. We need to know the full capabilities of this device, so I say we give Doctor Hawkins the go ahead.”
The Commandant of the Marine Corps tried to keep the shock off his face
as the Chairman’s words echoed in his mind.
An injustice to the people
? They’re using those same people as lab rats in some half-assed experiment to test a device that could easily be used against them. Hell, it’s already being used against them.
Deep in thought, he barely heard the Chairman say, “A show of hands for all those in favor of continuing Doctor Hawkins
’ experiments.”
Without hesitation, everyone around the table raised their hands
except the Commandant. Looking down at the papers on the table in front of him, he was weighing the pros and cons of giving Hawkins the go ahead. On one side of the argument, the Malectron would give them the upper hand in dealing with the dead. It could be used to herd them into unpopulated areas like the desert where they could be dealt with using airstrikes. In addition to that, it would make the United States the most powerful nation in the world. Maybe even the only nation in the world.
Until a cou
ntry like China stole the idea. Then what? Would the dead fight the next world war as they were pushed back and forth into the living?
And then there was the question of which direction the
Chairman was taking the country? Since their coup and the isolation of the President, the Chairman had stepped into the role of de facto leader. Everything was still brought up to a vote, but it was obvious that he was running things.
And what
really happened to the Vice Chairman? He questioned the story they had been told. The man had confronted the Chairman about speeding up relief efforts to the people still trapped in the Dead Cities when he found out they had been halted. Shortly after the two men had gotten into a heated discussion about how to use their existing resources, the Vice Chairman died in a helicopter crash.
But was it an accident?
There were just too many unknown factors.
When he glanced up and saw the other Chiefs staring at him, it took him a moment to realize that everyone was waiting on him. Deciding to bide his time until he had more information, he grinned sheepishly and said, “Sorry, gentleman, I was woolgathering.”
As he slowly raised his hand, the Commandant of the Marine Corp decided that if the Joint Chiefs had been corrupted by power, a coup would be the least of their worries.
New Orleans, Louisiana:
The hall to his right seemed clear
, but Staff Sergeant Fagan knew this didn’t mean shit. A survivor of three months of fighting Z’s in the Dead Cities, he hadn’t lasted this long by relying on assumptions. Putting a whistle between his lips, he blew out sharply.
The shriek of the
ten-cent child’s toy died off as he raised his Remington 1100 semi-automatic shotgun and searched for targets.
Nothing
. But he knew this didn’t mean shit either. The Z’s were dumb sacks of meat, but they weren’t completely stupid. He had noticed that they slipped into a kind of self-preservation mode when they knew they were being hunted, but this was overridden if there was food around.
That’s me
today, Fagan thought. Food.
Motioning the two men behind him
to crouch down, he reached into the cargo pocket of his BDU pants and extracted a squirt gun. Guaranteed to shoot a single burst up to thirty feet. It was their newest weapon in the fight against the dead.
He had pulled
the cocking lever back when he realized with disgust that it had a leak, as blood dribbled down his wrist. Looking at the stain on his pants, he knew he’d be doing laundry early this week. He wanted to attract the Z’s, but not to him.
Hoping the gun wouldn’t backfire and tag him even
more; he held it away from his body as he pulled the trigger. A sharp pop issued from the toy and a stream of red spewed out and landed on the floor fifteen feet away.
Lost some range,
he thought as he put the squirt gun on the floor and readied his shotgun. I’m going to have to get a new one when I get back to base since I like my targets a little further away.
After thirty seconds with no movement
, a quiet voice behind him said, “Looks clear, Sergeant.”
Without turning his head, Fagan answered, “What the fuck do you know
, newbie?”
Private Jimmy McPherson
’s face reddened in anger. Having just joined the unit after only two weeks of basic training, he was trying to fit in. This was his first mission into New Orleans to clear it of the dead, and he felt at a loss. The last few days had been a whirlwind of activity, as he was pulled from basic and transported to New Orleans to fight the dead. He’d been issued an M-16 assault rifle with no ammunition and informed that desertion was punishable by death by hanging. He’d already lost part of his family to the new Army, so he took this warning to heart.
Staring daggers at the back of the Staff Sergeant’s head, he calmed himself
, as this was the man who would teach him to survive in a world overrun by the dead. Jimmy knew that he might have only been a country boy when he’d been shanghaied into the new Army, but he’d matured a lot since then. The Sergeant had skills he needed to learn, so he needed him alive for now.
A creaking noise
caught his attention, coming from the hallway as a door opened.
Everything here
is old and creaky, he thought.
They were in
an apartment building on the West Bank, a mish-mash of the old and new that included some of the worst parts of the city and some of the best. Regardless of where they were, almost the entire city was still occupied by the walking dead. They had been ordered to secure this building in preparation for the sewer rats taking over.
Jimmy shivered at the thought of their job
. Coming in after the initial sweep, these were the soldiers that searched the basements and the flooded sewers and drains for the dead.
Fagan tensed
as he pointed his stockless shotgun down the hall and said quietly, “Load up.”
Jimmy slid the one, thirty round magazine he’d been issued into his rifle and pulled back the charging handle
. The Staff Sergeant was standing in the open, but he and the other member of their team had to look around the corner to see what was happening.
“Come to Mama,” Fagan said in a low voice.
In the hallway, the thing that had once been human stepped through the doorway of an apartment and raised its head as if sniffing the air. Dressed in rags that might have once been a uniform of some sort, part of its pants leg hung down to reveal huge chunks of meat gone from its thigh. Oval wounds leaking black goo still showed an attempt to bandage them.