Prep For Doom Page 44

  Kane knew it wasn’t ideal. What they had been doing up until now had hinged on the fact that they had a helicopter and could get away quickly at any time. He had no idea what prompted Montgomery to take off with the UH-60. If he’d just bailed, it would have been one thing, because Kane could pilot the chopper. But this guy had taken their only means of extracting survivors.

  He didn’t know Montgomery very well but he did wonder if his sudden disappearance had something to do with his kids back in New Mexico. Kane didn’t have any kids, so he couldn’t relate. His mother died in her New York nursing home before Kane could get to her. She was all he’d had in the way of family.

  After Kane placed a signal on the roof for Montgomery, Cassandra showed the men to the decontamination gear and how to set it up and implement the protocol. Every member of their group went through decontamination and was placed alone or with family in second floor offices overnight. They’d each taken a canned good from some of the survivors’ stashes, which they’d graciously offered.

  Kane kept Jagger with him in quarantine. If one was infected, they both were, most likely, so why leave the kid alone?

  There had been two casualties through the night, a married couple. They didn’t die alone nor very far apart. Everyone had to listen to it, though. The sounds of retching, of sickness. Of moaning in pain, and crying out, emotionally distressed from the impossible task of coming to grips with impending death.

  The next day, Cassandra began monitoring the internet, the phone lines, and all of the CDC’s incoming communications. She also tried in vain to contact the pilot for her private charter, still hoping to flee the city. She’d inquired about the government shelter Kane had mentioned, but it wasn’t an option. It could only be reached by aircraft. They were stuck. There was nowhere else to go.

  A week went by with the small group of survivors holed up at the CDC. They brought in other people they’d found on trips searching for food and supplies. The decon and quarantine worked like a charm, which sadly meant more people had died on the second floor. Disposing of the bodies wasn’t something anyone looked forward to, but Kane had put Martin in charge of it, along with two young men. They had a routine. No one liked it, but everyone appreciated it.

  * * *

  “How’s it coming?” Kane gripped Rickshaw’s shoulder, looking over him to the computer screen where he had logged into the database and satellite feed that they’d been using to scout out survivors. They’d been using it ever since they began doing search and extraction missions post-virus. They had a man inside the U.S. shelter who worked for the CIA before it shut down. He’d been giving them intel, but had quieted down since Kane’s unit lost their chopper.

  That didn’t keep them from logging in and keeping an eye on things.

  “What’s this?” Cassandra walked up. She’d been scouring the net, too, but it was really just to keep herself busy. She searched forums and news sites, even though most of the posts had been made weeks earlier.

  Kane hesitated. Cracked his neck. “It’s how we find people.” He pointed to the screen showing satellite graphics with blipping red and green dots. He dragged his fingers across the screen. “These are pockets of survivors that we know about. The green dots are places believed to be virus-free.”

  “I would have thought there would be a whole lot more red by now,” she said. “Some should be immune but not this many.”

  Kane shrugged. “Best we can tell, some people have been able to protect themselves from exposure. More than expected.”

  “It stands to reason that there are populations all over the world who haven’t been exposed. No contact with outsiders.” She crossed her arms, index finger on her chin.

  Rickshaw zoomed in on the NYC area.

  “That’s Staten Island,” she observed, pointing to the bottom center of the image.

  Kane nodded. “It appears to be the most populated location. They’ve been advertising, though.”

  “Are you suspicious about it?” Kane got the impression she knew something.

  “Peter Franklin Donalds orchestrated it, so, yeah. I’d say so.” Kane’s jaw tensed and he crossed his arms.

  “Isn’t there something we can do? Something the government can do?” Cassandra appeared to already know the answer to that. She wasn’t unfamiliar with government organizations. She straightened her wrinkly shirt, like that would help. She bit her lip again.

  Kane lowered his voice. “What are you not saying?”

  “It’s just…if they had something to do with this—”

  “Which you believe they did…” He waited. He could guess what she suspected but wasn’t ready to tell her that he knew she was right.

  She cleared her throat. “If they did, what use would they have for survivors?”

  “They had a contract for the vaccine right? Maybe they’re still attempting to make one.” Kane perched on the edge of the desk, crossing his arms.

  “If that were true, it wouldn’t do much good. The virus has already spread worldwide.” She grabbed a nearby chair and sat down.

  “The world’s not dead yet. Not by a long shot. Just look at the numbers, look at the maps.” He gestured toward the green and red dots on the computer, even though the green was diminishing. “A small percentage of the world’s population is still a lot of people. They all matter.” In another couple of weeks most would be gone. Kane was saving people by the dozens when the virus was killing by the millions. Nothing within Kane’s power could change that.

  A silent moment passed before Cassandra changed the subject. “Are there any other places with that many survivors? Like on Staten Island?”

  He cleared his throat. “Not even close. There is a place north a little ways, in Kingston. At least a dozen people. Our guy can’t figure out who these people are, so we’ve been hesitant to approach them. They don’t come and go often, so it seems they’re self-sufficient.”

  “Like a bunker.” Rickshaw jumped in.

  The sound of a helicopter caught Kane’s attention. He peered out the window and saw a Blackhawk. His Blackhawk. He darted up and pressed his fingers to the glass. Normally he kept pretty clear of the windows but this was definitely Montgomery.

  Kane took the elevator to the top floor and flew up the final flight of stairs leading onto the roof, with every intention of beating the crap out of the pilot. The whooping sound of air coming off the blades was such a familiar and welcomed sensation that Kane nearly lost his desire to confront the traitor. When the UH-60 landed on the rooftop, directly over Kane’s signal, the engines cut off and Montgomery climbed out, limping over with his hands up, an explanation on his lips.

  Kane’s fist nearly connected with Montgomery’s lips too, but three teenagers slipped out of the helicopter, causing Kane to stop mid-movement.

  “My kids,” Montgomery pleaded. “I finally got a signal and my kids weren’t where they were supposed to be. They’d left my bunker. I had to go after them.” His eyes watered before he stiffened his upper lip and steadied his resolve. “I lost my daughter.”

  At his words, the boy behind him grimaced and shot his father a glare that quickly retreated.

  Kane rubbed his hand over his face, exhaling deeply. “Montgomery, I…” Montgomery had been so sure his family was safe. Now, Kane didn’t know what to say. Couldn’t remember what anyone had said to comfort him, or if anyone had even tried. Everything he was coming up with felt phony. The truth was, death sucked and there was no comfort to be had.

  Kane’s gaze rolled over the kids hiding behind Montgomery. A boy with his arm wrapped around a blond-headed girl, and another teen a couple feet away.

  Montgomery introduced them as Chad, Wendy, and Elena. As Kane inspected the trio, Elena tipped her head back and grumbled, “We’re fine. Thanks for asking.”

  Kane ignored the comment. His group had just gained three to their numbers with a helicopter that could only hold eleven passengers. They now had fifteen people to consider besides their chalk of fo
ur guardsmen.

  Montgomery shifted his weight, unsteady on a newly bum leg. Kane didn’t know how he’d come by the injury and at the moment, he didn’t care.

  Kane asked the most important question there was. “How much fuel?” He knew Montgomery would have had to stop several times for fuel along the way, and who knew when he had stopped last.

  Montgomery grimaced and shook his head. “Listen,” Montgomery plead. “We’re beat up. We’re hungry, and we went through hell to get here. Can we just have a minute? And then we can figure out what to do.”

  A tense moment passed before they made their way inside, and even more tense when they crowded into an elevator.

  When the doors dinged open, Cassie was waiting. “You’re going to want to see this.” Her gaze was fixed on Kane and her whole body was tensed.

  Kane stepped out of the elevator first. “What happened?”

  She cocked her head toward the cubicle where she’d been working since they arrived at the CDC. Kane turned to the people on the elevator. “Get them some food.”

  Rickshaw nodded, his face devoid of all the emotions Martin’s wore. Kane could always count on Rickshaw to be steady.

  At Cassandra’s desk, she unlocked the computer screen, turning to Kane before explaining whatever was on her computer. “I just found an email.” She paused before adding, “from Kingston.”

  Kane cocked a brow. “Really?”

  He read the message. His jaw went slack, his mind warring with rage and confusion. Not only was Kingston safe and housing uninfected, but it had a sordid coming about.

  “Amy. The reporter. She was right about PFD,” Cassandra muttered. “Just not how she thought.”

  “It was a terrorist attack. Just like the government said. That’s why they went into hiding.” For a moment, Kane wished this Harman guy hadn’t killed his brother so Kane could do it. All the suffering and death caused at this man’s hands. This twisted nut job. He’d done this. On purpose.

  “Do you think all the people at Kingston were involved?” Cassandra hesitated to make the accusation, her tone shifting to pure concern.

  “The email doesn’t imply they knew.” Kane shrugged, still mulling over the possibilities.

  “The email could be a lie. A trap.” Cassie sat back in her chair. She didn’t believe that; Kane knew it.

  “I don’t know,” Kane said. “We’ve heard of Prep for Doom. I can’t believe it was all a cover for this Džugi guy’s plans.”

  The website, Prep for Doom, had sprung up a while back, covering a range of disasters and apocalypses: zombies, pandemics, aliens, climate disasters, nuclear war, and terrorism. Intel said there’d been a bunker secured in New York and before long, similar ones had popped up all over the country. Imitations of the real deal. Of Džugi, apparently.

  “Luca Džugi would have the world believe the pharmaceutical company had done this. But it was him. He betrayed them,” Kane said.

  “They still created a weaponized virus. And sending an army to secure an entire island on behalf of the company hasn’t exactly helped PFD’s case. So what’s their angle?” Cassandra asked.

  “Damage control?” Kane shrugged.

  Someone cleared his throat and Kane glanced over his shoulder to find Montgomery. “You mentioned Kingston?” His face was a combination of curiosity and shame.

  “What do you know about it?” Kane asked, crossing his arms and turning toward Montgomery. Martin and Rickshaw joined them then, interrupting whatever Montgomery had been about to say.

  “What’s going on, chief?” Rickshaw rubbed his jaw.

  Kane cleared his throat and told them all about the email from Harman Džugi, the terrorist’s brother. Rage boiled in Martin’s gaze, but even he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Kane’s eyes landed on Montgomery. “What do you know about Kingston?” he asked again.

  “I’m a member of Prep for Doom. There’s a spot for me in that bunker.” Montgomery dropped his arms to his sides, as if giving up and welcoming whatever he had coming.

  But Kane didn’t react. He searched Montgomery’s eyes, studied his demeanor. “Do you know Džugi?” Montgomery stared back, jaw slack as he tried to place the name. “Charles. Do you know him?” Kane’s pulse quickened as he considered what would have been a far greater betrayal than taking off with a UH-60.

  Kane grabbed Montgomery by both shoulders. “Did you know about this? Any of it?” Kane was so close that angry bits of spittle landed on Montgomery’s face.

  Montgomery’s eyes suddenly focused and snapped toward Kane’s face, offended. “Of course I didn’t. People have been prepping for disasters long before that idiot created Prep for Doom. It was just the newest flavor.”

  Kane felt his grip tighten and heard his voice raise, both more so than he really intended. “He killed billions of people, Montgomery. Billions and counting.”

  Montgomery’s jaw worked as his breathing escalated. He stared down at a spot on the carpet until finally he shook his head. “I had no idea. I never would’ve…”

  Kane forced himself to step back and glanced at Rickshaw, who he didn’t realize had been restraining Martin. Cassandra had backed into the corner between the desk and the window, her fingertips pressed to her lips. She didn’t meet Kane’s eyes.

  He turned back to Montgomery. “You’re taking us to that bunker.”

  * * *

  Kane somehow convinced Cassie to stay behind. It wasn’t an easy sell, but they didn’t know what awaited in Kingston, and quite honestly, Kane wanted only soldiers alongside him on this mission—on any mission. Civilians complicated things. Montgomery’s leg made him virtually useless on foot, but Kane gave him no choice. He wasn’t even sure if he believed Montgomery.

  Kane took a car that belonged to someone Cassandra knew from the CDC—they’d found his body when they arrived. The whole drive to Kingston, even during their stop to syphon gas, they barely spoke. Kane had picked up a spare mask from the helicopter and they had all loaded up on ammo.

  In Kingston, the men found a place to park behind a yellow Honda with a dead camo-clad man inside. They were a few streets over from the old school building that now housed a bunker created by the founder of the fanatic internet group, Prep for Doom. Luca Džugi had been an employee of Peter Franklin Donalds. But then he sabotaged the company and the rest of the world by releasing a virus for which PFD had been making a vaccine. A virus Kane was convinced they had intentionally made airborne to weaponize. Džugi pulled the trigger but no one’s hands were clean.

  Kane was turned halfway around in the passenger seat so he could see all three men.

  “The message said the brothers were dead, but we are going to assume that’s not the case.” Kane made eye contact with each man, waiting for them to acknowledge. “Boys, this man created his very own apocalypse. If there are innocents in that bunker, we will do right by them, but we will come out with that man’s body, one way or another. Understood?”

  Each gave a small nod, just enough, their eyes alight, even Montgomery’s. This was their job—to protect people. Even if there weren’t many left to protect. Kane’s thoughts drifted to Cassandra. To Jagger, and the others. They didn’t know what they were walking into, but this is what they’d signed up for.

  “It’s been an honor to serve at the end of the world with the three of you.” Kane tipped his chin back, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

  The men whooped in response, a guttural sound. They secured their masks before slipping out of the car. Approaching the building, they readied their weapons. This wasn’t their usual type of gig. They specialized in extractions, the kind with living subjects. This extraction would be much different.

  Kane, Martin, and Rickshaw hung back while Montgomery approached, only armed with a concealed sidearm. His limp actually worked in their favor because, at the moment, he looked nothing like a soldier. Save for the mask.

  “Stop right there.” The voice came from somewhere impossible to distingu
ish, bouncing off the walls around them. The sun was setting and the dim light didn’t help.

  Montgomery halted. “My name’s on your list,” he told the unseen man.

  “Password?”

  Montgomery rubbed his hand along the thigh of his injured leg. “TFZ9038. Charles Montgomery, from New Mexico.”

  There was silence for a moment and then, “Come around the side to the stairs.”

  Montgomery took a few steps that way, his limp suddenly worse than it had been before.

  “You’re sick?” the voice shot up to a higher pitch, shouting now.

  “No, just injured. Just my leg.” Montgomery’s head shifted around as he tried to spot the speaker.

  When Kane noticed the red dot appear on Montgomery’s back, he sprang into action, his men falling in right behind. Kane lifted his rifle toward the buildings across the street from the school, scanning windows and rooftops, anywhere a shooter could be hidden.

  “Lower your weapons!” the same voice said. Kane detected something in the voice…fear? “We’ll shoot.”

  “We’re members of the Army National Guard. We’re looking for a terrorist named Luca Džugi. Send him out now and we’ll have no reason to bother the rest of you.” It was to the point and a long shot, but worth taking.

  It took too long for the man to respond. “We don’t know what you’re talking about. We can’t help you.”

  “Do you know who you’re protecting?” Kane had finally spotted a security camera. Next to it, a speaker. The man wasn’t even outside. “Džugi is responsible for releasing AVHF in New York, knowing full well that there was no cure, and stealing the vaccine from PFD before he did. He endangered everyone, including you.”

  When no reply came, Kane continued. “We know he’s here. His brother sent us a message.”

  This was getting nowhere. They all knew it. The man was terrified. He had no way of knowing if Kane was telling the truth, or if he meant anyone harm. Kane couldn’t stand here and reason with him all day. “We don’t want to hurt anyone, but we’re coming inside.”

  Together, the four men moved to the left side of the building. They slowly scaled the covered stairs, guns raised in different directions. Kane was genuinely surprised no one shot at them. He inspected the door for a possible way to break in. But he never got the chance because it clicked open and a small man in a white HAZMAT suit stood, reaching toward Kane’s chest to keep him out.