The Nightmare Scenario (42 page)

“It’s no mistake, Mr. President.”

“Come again, Governor?”

“I’m sorry Mr. President, but we know that the military’s been infected. Fort Bragg is under quarantine and God only knows what other bases are hit. We’re confident that our state is clean and we cannot let anyone from the outside in. I’m sorry, but my primary responsibility is to my state’s citizens, not the federal government.”

The president was so astonished that he didn’t fully comprehend what he had just heard. For sure, the Republicans could sometimes have all kinds of strange ideas, but this was just off the charts.

“I’m sorry, Governor, I’m not sure I’m hearing you correctly, but if I am, I can inform you that I also have a responsibility, to
all
inhabitants of this nation, whether in your state or not. I know for a fact that you don’t have the capability to conduct the kind
of military operation required to keep your citizens safe.”

“My medical and military advisors tell me otherwise. We also disagree with your approach of quarantining only the cities. We feel it’s imperative to leave no one out. We will protect our entire state – come hell or high water.”

“Governor, your advisors are hardly as qualified as mine. Secondly, you can protect your borders all you want as long as we can put federal resources on the main cities.”

“My apologies, Mr. President, but I will have to stand firm on this. I have full bipartisan support from the leaders in the legislature.”

“You realize that your action is illegal, right? It could be considered treason at the very least and possibly even a rebellion against the lawful government.”

“I don’t want it to come to this, Mr. President, but if we cannot find an agreement, the State of South Carolina will secede from the Union.”

“Secede from the Union!? What are you talking about? You can’t secede from the Union. There is no such constitutional mechanism. The Supreme Court made that very clear in Texas v. White in 1869. Furthermore, secession equals insurrection, and in a case of insurrection I can, and am in fact obligated by the Constitution to put the full force of the federal government into quelling it. Your boys don’t stand a chance. They have shotguns and Humvees. I have Bradleys. I have 30,000 troops in your state at Fort Jackson, for Christ’s sake.”

“I have spoken to the commander at Fort Jackson, and he has assured me that he will not deploy his troops to open fire on American citizens who are not pursuing aggression against other citizens of the republic. He is not ready to actively join forces with us at this stage, but he will not mobilize against us.”

“That’s treason, and he will hang for it! Heed my words, Governor. You will have the federal army marching down Pendleton Street within hours!”

“You’re a wise man, Mr. President. You might want to ask yourself whether you, in this state of national emergency, want to divert federal resources to attacking a state that has no aggressive intent and only wants to protect itself and its inhabitants from an infection of which the federal government has already clearly lost control.”

“It
is
aggressive intent when you fire on the US Army!”

“I’m sorry we can’t reach an agreement Mr. President. We have nothing more to discuss. Goodbye.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Can someone tell me what just happened? Are we now in a state of civil war?” the president asked the room.

“If nothing else, you have to appreciate the irony that troops from Virginia are fighting on the side of the republic against secession from the Union,” said the Chief of Staff.

The irony was completely lost on the president.

AUGUST 24
^TH
, 6 P.M., CHURCH OF THE SEVENTH SEAL, BOISE, IDAHO

A
s with many modern charismatic churches, the Church of the Seventh Seal’s ancestry in Pentecostal tradition was evidenced by the absence of decorations. The congregation gathered in what was nothing more than an old indoor basketball court. There were no pews in the original sense, just rows of folding chairs. The reverend had no pulpit, just a raised deck built of discarded packing crates.

He raised his arms to silence the audience and begin his sermon.

“My flock, finally the day has come! I have predicted the Rapture in our lifetime and now it is here! Have I not told you it was coming?”

“Yes, you have, Reverend!” came the crowd’s response.

“John writes in the Book of Revelation that the Rapture will be preceded by the four Riders and that ‘power was given unto them over the fourth part of
the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth.’

“Now, do you think it is a coincidence that this new plague kills exactly a quarter of the people? Do you not think what is happening is exactly what John foretold?”

“Yes, we do!”

“Let me hear you say Amen!”

“Amen!”

“After having wandered the world for a month, pestilence has now finally reached our shores. But fear not my children, for you will not suffer from the illness. The infection only strikes the sinners. God’s wrath is finally descending upon those perverted men and women, who in the name of secularism and modern science have run our society into moral bankruptcy. But know that God recognizes His own. And you, my flock, are not sinners! You are righteous, faithful and devoted followers of God, are you not?”

“Yes, we are!”

“The sword of God will now cleanse the earth. And this society, built on blasphemy as its only foundation, will fall just like the kingdoms of Sodom and Gomorrah. And we, the faithful, shall stand untouched, awaiting the arrival of our Redeemer.

“No, we shall not fear the infection, rather we shall march out into the world and find and unite with our righteous brothers and sisters. They will be clearly marked by God as the ones who do not become infected. We shall find them and, side by side, gather on the fields of salvation, for when the seven trumpets
sound, our reward will come as the Lord brings us to his Kingdom.

“But as we start on this march to find our brethren, we must shun the infected, not because we fear contagion, but because they bear the mark of the fallen and depraved. Being kind and compassionate souls, I know many of you will feel the urge to help the sick, but we must not, lest our pure souls be stained by contact with these abominable followers of the Beast!

“Our time has come! As I have foreseen it! Let me hear you say Amen!”

“Amen!”

A woman in the back of the auditorium muffled a cough and the parishioners standing next to her immediately stepped away, eyeing her with suspicion and ill-hidden contempt.

AUGUST 25
^TH
, LATE MORNING, WILLIAM LANE’S MOUNTAIN CABIN, MONTANA

T
he mountain cabin village to which Richard had exiled Susanne and their children wasn’t anything like she’d envisioned. She’d always thought survivalists lived in concrete bunkers, minimalist and practical, with beauty and ambience being of no concern.

This place was quite the opposite. There were a handful cabins on the property. The older ones were built of stone with large panoramic glass windows and wooden roofs. The newer ones were log cabins. They were all tastefully integrated into the surrounding elements of nature.

The scenery was amazing. The cottages were spread around a medium-sized pond into which ran several small brooks, which continued in a larger stream downhill. The water, melted from the mountaintops, was as clear as can be.

At first, she’d thought Richard was out of his mind when he asked her to come here. Maybe because the stress was getting to him, his natural inclination to be overprotective of her and the kids was going into overdrive. He’d always referred to his brother, whom she’d only met once, as a paranoid conspiracy theorist.

But as she followed the news and the pandemonium spreading over the country, she realized how lucky they’d been to get away.

She enjoyed her daily strolls around the property, and the survivalists were nice people. Or at least, the wives were. Still, she missed Richard, who she heard from far too seldom. She didn’t even know where he was.

She was just approaching the southern edge of the compound when she heard a trip-mine go off with a shrill, high-pitched whistle. The last two times it had happened, she’d been told it was rabbits. The sound was just off to her right and she walked over. A clearing opened up and what she saw was not a rabbit.

A man stood just inside the perimeter. He was tall, thin and bald. He held a young boy in his hand. Thirty feet away stood Bill, a rifle pointed at the man.

“Jamie. What are you doing here?” inquired Bill.

“Bill. Boy, am I glad to see you. The world outside is going crazy. I came to join you guys.”

“We closed down the day before yesterday, Jamie. We can’t let you in.”

“You can’t shut me out. I’m part of the collective. I put money into this place. I helped build it.”

“Sorry, Jamie, it’s a majority decision. You got the call just like everyone else. You’re too late. We’re expecting to get these tests soon though, so if you come back in a week and you’re clean, we’ll let you in.”

“But Bill, I can’t go back out there. It’s complete chaos. It’s too dangerous with Tobin,” he nodded at the young boy hugging his left thigh. “There’s nothing but anarchy! It’s not safe for us.”

“Let me ask you this, Jamie. Why didn’t you drive up the road? Why are you skulking onto the property by foot? Is it possibly because you thought that once you got in and got close we wouldn’t shut you out, ‘cause if you were a carrier you’d have infected us already? Also, answer me this. Where’s Marie? Why’ve you left her behind? Is it maybe ‘cause she’s sick?”

“Come on, Bill…” said Jamie, and started walking forward.

“Jamie, three more steps and I’ll shoot you. I’m not kidding.”

“No, Bill, you won’t shoot me. We’ve known each other since we were ki…”

The shot rang loud and echoed against the mountains. Susanne saw the back of Jamie’s head explode, a grayish-reddish substance splashing against the trees behind him.

She screamed. Within a second, another shot rang out. It hit the young boy in his right eye. There could be no doubt that they were both dead.

“Bill! What are you doing! Have you gone completely insane!?” Susanne screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Shut up. He gave me no choice. Go back to the cabin and fetch some gasoline. We have to burn them.”

“But Bill, that was just a young boy! You’re going to burn in hell for this!”

“The kid was out of mercy. You still don’t get it, do you? The world has changed. There is no God. There are no more morals. There are only us in here and them out there. That’s all there is.”

AUGUST 25
^TH
, MIDNIGHT, CORRIDOR TO LIVING QUARTERS, PRESIDENTIAL BUNKER TWO, UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

A
eolus was stumbling down the corridor, reeling, supporting himself with his left hand against the wall. The seemingly inexhaustible source of energy within him had somehow gone dry. He could barely muster the strength to put one foot in front of the other. The headache was gone, but so was his drive.

Hank appeared, putting a hand on his shoulder with surprising gentleness.

“Hey, Aelo-boy, you don’t look too great.”

“No, Hank, I’m a bit tired.”

“You said almost nothing in the last briefing. You had me answer questions from the president which he asked you.”

“Your answers were just fine, Hank.”

“Man, you’re really not okay. Let’s get a drink. The mess is just around the corner.”

“Yeah, sure…”

Aeolus didn’t know how, but he suddenly found himself slouched over a chair at a table in the empty mess. Hank was at the bar.

“What do you want, Aeolus? They have a pretty decent selection of single malts. How about a twenty-one-year-old Springbank, or a 1975 Ardbeg?”

“No, Hank, I’ll just have a bottle of Bud and a double Jim Beam on the rocks.”

“Wow, you really have lost it! You’re drinking like a redneck.”

“Actually, that’s always been my preferred combination. I can’t stand single malts. I’ve always thought that people who say they like Scottish whiskey are just flat-out lying to try to seem sophisticated. I mean, honestly, who wants to drink liquid tar? Jim Beam, on the other hand, no matter its audience being mainly uneducated confederates, is perfection in a bottle.”

Hank laughed and Aeolus smiled back.

“Look, Aeolus. We’re all under pressure and none more so than you. You’ve been going at it like a jackhammer on crack for two months. You need to get drunk and sleep in. It’s the perfect tonic for exhaustion. You’ll be back swinging tomorrow.”

“No, I won’t, Hank. It’s over. I’ve failed.”

“You failed! Hell, you were right from the beginning, in your every call! If we’d followed your advice, wouldn’t be in this situation. If there’s anyone to blame, it’s me. I’m the one who stood against you. I was the one who
didn’t shut down the borders in time. You were right six years ago and you’re right now!”

“My responsibility is not to be right. My job is to make people take the right actions,” said Aeolus, echoing the words of the Old Man’s advice in advance of his first meeting with Hank.

His tone was not of self-recrimination, rather a clinical statement of fact. Eyes focused in the distance, Aeolus whispered, “As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods, they kill us for their sport.”

“What obscure ancient source of wisdom are you quoting now, Aeolus?”

“It’s Ki… ah, who cares?”

After another moment of silence, Aeolus said, “Hank, I’m leaving. You’ll have to take it from here.”

“Knock it off, Aeolus. We need you and you know it. It’s not over yet. You can’t give up now!”

“Hank, it’s over. At least for me. You saw the latest wires. What can we reasonably hope for? The Eastern seaboard?”

“No, it’s not completely out of control. We can still corner it. We might be able to contain it.”

“It’s not the infection spreading that worries me; it’s the spread of something else.”

Hank was silent.