Apocalypse twc-1 Page 3

  “I don’t think so. It’s just a feeling I have.”

  “So, why didn’t you say anything?”

  Nothing in her tone was accusatory. But still, I felt defensive.

  “I don’t know. She was young, maybe a little older than us. But she wasn’t one of us. She was a Wastelander for sure.”

  Khloe was quiet. It made me nervous since she was always chatty.

  “You can’t tell anyone,” I said. “I know you won’t, but I just want to be sure. Something bad could happen if anyone found out.”

  “Does your dad know?”

  “I told him after dinner. He didn’t have the chance to give me advice because Chan walked in.”

  Khloe winced. “He didn’t hear anything, did he?”

  “I’m sure he didn’t. If he did, I would be talking to him now instead of you.”

  “I guess that’s true.”

  “I can’t tell anyone. I can’t.” I shook my head. “Maybe she killed him. But something tells me there’s more to it than that. And…I didn’t want her to die. If I had said something, Michael would have been forced to do something about it.” I shrugged. “Maybe he noticed, too, but didn’t say anything, either.”

  “Maybe,” Khloe said. “Who knows how many Wastelanders have slipped through the cracks that way? I know we’re taught they’re dangerous, but they’re people, just like us, right? The point is, you shouldn’t feel bad. Something inside you told you to stay quiet. As far as you know, that’s the right choice. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

  “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

  Then again, maybe not. The woman was a Wastelander, and all Wastelanders have the capacity for violence. Who was to say she wouldn’t lead anyone else here?

  Would I be the reason for the fall of Bunker 108?

  “You can’t keep thinking like that,” Khloe said. “You got to believe that you did right, or you’ll go crazy.”

  I nodded. Anyone could have explained it to me using those words, but because it was Khloe, they stuck.

  “Thanks,” I said. “You are right.”

  Khloe smiled. “Of course I am. Girls are always right.”

  “I guess so.”

  “What happened to the guy you brought in?”

  “He’s in quarantine.”

  “Quarantine? Is he sick?”

  “He’s sick with the xenovirus. Not directly, but there are infected microbes in his bloodstream that are killing him. My dad thinks he doesn’t have long, now.”

  Even in the darkness, I could see Khloe’s face go white.

  “The xenovirus isn’t supposed to affect people. Is it?”

  “No. Like I said, it’s not affecting him directly. It’s getting him sick through the microbes, which are tainted. My dad is hoping to cure him, but I’m not so optimistic. My dad’s been working on the xenovirus for a long time.”

  “Will you be alright? You were around him…”

  “Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried. My dad said as long as I didn’t touch the wounds, I would be fine. I don’t think I touched anything.”

  “Think?”

  “I’m pretty sure I didn’t.”

  She sighed. “I don’t like that answer.”

  “I feel fine,” I said.

  “You need to wash up. You probably didn’t even wash your hands before eating.”

  She smiled, and touched my face. I felt my cheeks redden – I hadn’t expected that.

  She pulled her hand back. There was dirt on it.

  “Told you.”

  Before I had a chance to react, a shadow fell over us from the still ajar door to the corridor.

  We both got up, and spun around.

  It was Chan.

  Chapter 6

  Chan stood in the doorway, surveying us with his cold eyes. Khloe and I just stared at him, shocked. After a long while, he spoke.

  “Miss Kline, please return to your family’s apartment. I must speak with Alex alone.”

  Khloe nodded, casting me a worried glance.

  “Mr. Keener. Follow me.”

  I followed Officer Chan, my thoughts racing. What did he know? How could he know anything at all? My dad wouldn’t have said anything…would he?

  We entered a hallway I rarely frequented – the Officers’ Wing. Chan’s office was at the end. A guard who I recognized, but whose name I did not know, was posted by the door. He cast me a suspicious glance and said nothing as Chan and I entered.

  Chan’s office had a desk with a computer and papers on it. On either side was the same, nondescript wooden chair. On the far wall hung a large map, detailing southern California in the Old World. Red pins were stuck in key places, though only Chan and perhaps a few others knew their significance. The office was bare, utilitarian.

  “You may sit,” Chan said.

  I sat in the chair, though Chan remained standing, facing away from me. Though short, he appeared tall and domineering.

  “Close the door, Officer Burton.”

  The officer nodded, and shut the door. The silence that followed was thick.

  “How was your first recon, Alex?”

  It seemed a strange question, given he knew what happened.

  “I wish it could have gone more simply.”

  Chan wheeled around to face me, hands behind his back. I heard him crack his knuckles. His lips remained horizontal, but I saw him smirk with his eyes.

  “I have called you in for two reasons. The first was to inform you that a new strain of the xenovirus has been discovered.”

  I stared at Chan for a moment in mute shock. It was just thirty minutes ago that I had left the medical bay, believing that it was only the microbes that were infected, and not the man himself.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I watched as your father ran another test after you left. I personally saw him place the man’s DNA under a microscope, and clearly, whatever it showed was not entirely human. Your father never thought the xenovirus would be advanced enough to affect a human directly, hence why he would only think to test for the microbes to begin with.” Chan smiled grimly. “I’m glad that I insisted your father do this. I had a very bad feeling about this from the beginning.”

  I was still so overwhelmed with the ramifications of a new strain of the xenovirus, one that affected humans no less, I could not answer. If the man were infected, then it could be communicable.

  “I wanted to confirm this result to you in person first,” Chan said. “Since you help your father with his research, he will naturally share this breakthrough with you. You are not permitted, however, to share it with anyone else, under any circumstance. This is the main reason why I brought you here. You must promise me that this will remain hidden until I say otherwise. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Of course. So, the xenovirus is actually transforming the man we found? As it would plants?”

  Chan nodded. “Your father is still in the medical bay, working hard to understand this new threat. The man – whoever he is – is beyond saving. We can only watch as his body deteriorates, and take note of the effects the xenovirus has on him. Hopefully, we can learn all we can before he expires.”

  I remained silent in the pause that followed.

  “Now, Alex…did you tell anyone about the man? Perhaps you told Miss Kline?”

  I felt a bit frazzled, so it was all I could do to look Chan in the eye. “No. We were talking about school, for the most part. I mentioned that the guy was sick, but nothing more.”

  Chan nodded. “I hope that was all it was, Alex. Because if this gets out, then there could be one less Bunker in operation by tomorrow.”

  He said nothing more on that subject, and neither did I.

  “Now, I also wanted to know what happened on the recon. Recount everything, beginning to end, and spare no detail. Any piece of information could be important, even if you believe it is trivial. Please, be specific as possible.”

  “Alright.”

  I
told him. He seemed uninterested in what I said, but I saw his eyes, calculating, when I could bring myself to look at them. When I got to the part of coming upon the man, he became more alert.

  “I saw the man, and he had several wounds in his back. I watched Michael as he radioed back for help. We moved him…”

  Chan stopped me there. “You saw nothing else? No one else? Obviously this man could not stab himself in the back. There had to have been someone else there, no?”

  Here, my face twitched. I hoped it escaped Chan’s notice. I’m sure it probably didn’t.

  “No. Just the man.”

  “It seems strange that a man with stab wounds would be alive like that. It suggests the wounds were rather recent. The person who inflicted the wounds would still be nearby by necessity. You saw nothing – no form, no footprints, no clues, as to whether there had been someone else present?”

  “No. If I saw footprints or anything I would have told Michael. I guess he didn’t see anything, either.”

  Chan just stared at me, willing more information out. Finally, he nodded slowly, as if I had just confirmed something he suspected.

  “When the Bunkers were first established, there were one hundred and forty four – as you are well aware from your schooling. Now, how many are there?”

  “Four.”

  “Four.” He paused, to let it sink in. “You are too young to know this, Alex, being only sixteen. But since that day in 2030, when the Bunkers were filled, there was hope. The Bunkers would arise and rebuild the nation Ragnarok had destroyed. But the Bunkers failed, one by one. Most were wiped out by Wastelanders. The commanders of the Bunkers were lax in security, too generous in charity. They allowed survivors in, gave away food. They didn’t keep their locations secret. They could not bring themselves to shoot those who wandered by.

  “And some…some Bunkers disappeared into the night – here one day, gone the next, with no rhyme or reason why. The situation has worsened as communication satellites have fallen into disrepair, making contact with any Bunker near impossible.”

  Chan paused, his eyes narrowing.

  “Do you know why we are still alive, Alex? Do you know why we have not fallen, just four of one hundred and forty four Bunkers that still function?”

  “Because no one knows we’re here.”

  “That is correct. No one knows we are here. So why go on recons at all? Well, we only send recons out in pairs, except in extreme circumstances, once every week. The senior is taught to look for things the junior is not privy to. Needless to say, it is a very important task, well worth the risk of being discovered. Very few wander near here because they have learned to avoid this area. But the Wasteland is a fluid place – things change, and if we can’t keep tabs on our environment, we cannot adapt to ever shifting situations, and may find ourselves eliminated in that way.

  “I am the Chief Security Officer. It is my job to maintain the security and well-being of all Bunker residents. I am endowed by the government of the United States of America to run this facility, and have been given license to do whatever is necessary to ensure that. Whatever the cost.”

  He stared at me, a while longer. Almost, he broke me with that will. But at last, he relented.

  “If you remember anything about your recon, you can find me personally. Remember what I said about the xenovirus. Not a word.” He paused. “That is all.”

  Just like that, the interrogation was over. Chan turned his attention to some papers, and seemed to have forgotten me in quick order.

  But I had to ask one question.

  “Officer Chan…why was that man coming to our Bunker, anyway?”

  Chan looked up, trying to decipher what I knew. Finally, he spoke.

  “It is a matter of governmental security that I cannot relay to you,” he said. “That he died in transit was most unfortunate. How he came to be infected in the first place…” Chan frowned, lost in thought. “That is all I have to say on that subject.”

  “Yes, Officer Chan.”

  I left Chan to his work, closing the door behind me.

  Questions raced through my mind as I walked home. By the time I returned to mine and my father’s apartment, it was 21:00. Only then did I allow myself to relax. As soon as I shut the door, I heaved a huge sigh. Chan was the one person whose bad side I didn’t want to be on. Up until now, I had done well in not drawing attention to myself. And now, this. Chan would forever remember this, and it might make things difficult.

  At least I had my dad to help with things. Tomorrow, after class, I would speak with him. He would know what to do.

  I closed my eyes, trying to find peace. When I opened them, I looked at my familiar surroundings. Our apartment was two rooms – a bedroom, and a small living room. The living room contained a couch, several bookshelves filled to overflowing, and a large desk littered with papers and yet more books, where I did my homework and my sketches.

  I went to the bedroom, and lay down on the corner bunk. It was a while before I fell asleep. After what Chan told me, it was a wonder I could sleep at all.

  I could only hope the morning would bring answers and resolution.

  Chapter 7

  That morning, I went to class. It was hard to concentrate as Mrs. Watson introduced the class to geometric proofs.

  When lunch break came, Khloe walked up to me.

  “What happened last night?”

  “It was fine. He didn’t get anything out of me.”

  I turned around to leave.

  “Wait. Where are you going?”

  “I need to go see my dad. He didn’t come home last night.”

  “Is he not sleeping?”

  “No. And he probably won’t until he’s solved this. I’m his voice of reason. That, and I need to figure out what to do about Chan.”

  “Need company?”

  “Sure. I could use the moral support.”

  We left the classroom, and headed for the medical bay. It wasn’t far. We were there within a minute.

  It was completely empty. Not even my father’s assistants were there.

  “Did everyone go home?” Khloe asked.

  That’s what I thought, at first. Then I realized…

  “He must be with the patient.”

  We walked toward the operating room. Through the small window in the door, we could see the patient sprawled on his back, motionless. But that’s not what worried me. CSO Chan was standing next to my dad and two assistants. All wore breathing masks.

  We ducked out of the way, before any of them could see us.

  “What is it?” Khloe whispered.

  “Chan’s in there,” I said.

  “Should we leave?”

  “No. I want to listen.”

  “Oh, Alex. Do you really want to get into more trouble?”

  “I’m already in trouble. Besides, this is too important.”

  Khloe sighed. “Fine. I’ll stay too, I guess.”

  I leaned against the door, and listened.

  “Will he expire soon?”

  It was Chan. I heard whispers from the assistants. Then, my father’s voice.

  “Yes. He is dead now, in fact. But the virus is changing him. He is no longer human.”

  “What do you mean?” Chan asked.

  “Just that. The DNA is so changed as to no longer be human. All of his hair is gone. The muscles have thickened, and an MRI has shown that there has been a great reduction in brain matter. There are so many changes being made that it is impossible to take note of them all, much less determine their implications. But of note is a strange knot forming in the brain – not a tumor, or cancer, but a great nexus of neural activity in the amygdala and hippocampus that far exceed that of a normal human.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “We have no idea. Those areas of the brain are related to memory and emotion, to put it simply. Why there is growth in both of them and deterioration in other areas, I don’t know. It may not even matter. By this point, the patient i
s dead. His body temperature is the same as this room. No one could survive that.”

  They were all quiet.

  “Well,” Chan said. “Perform what tests you need to. Learn all you can. When you’re finished, have him incinerated. I will not risk him infecting others.”

  At that moment, Chan’s voice dropped off. I leaned closer, thinking they were only speaking more softly.

  “Is…is he moving?” one of the assistants asked.

  There was a long pause. I stopped breathing. Then, my curiosity won over caution, and I lifted my eyes to the window.

  All of them were so transfixed on the body that they were not looking in my direction. The body appeared still, just as it had before.

  Khloe stood next to me, also watching through the window. Chan was facing away.

  Then, the body jerked, causing all the men to jump back. The legs convulsed, planting themselves on the floor. The eyes opened, two completely white orbs. The arms reached out for one of the assistants.

  “Get him away!” he screamed.

  Chan pulled out a handgun, pointing it at the patient. “Freeze!”

  The patient pressed forward, paying no heed. He leaned into the assistant.

  Chan fired. The bullet entered the patient’s head, splattering the wall and the assistant with purple and grayish goo. The patient collapsed to the ground. The smell was so foul that it permeated the door. I gagged.

  Immediately, Chan turned, his eyes burning into me like fire. They narrowed as he scowled, his left cheek twitching. It was the most emotion I’d ever seen out of him, and it terrified me.

  He still held the gun in his hand, and he holstered it.

  “Clean this mess up,” he snapped to the assistants.

  My father was now looking at me with his soft, brown eyes, wondering why, of all places, I was here. I felt guilty – doubly, because I knew I had gotten Khloe into trouble, too. I would take the fall for that as well.

  But Khloe was not even looking at me. She was still looking at the body with widening eyes. She pointed through the window.

  “Oh my God…”

  The body on the floor was bloating, fattening, swelling in all the limbs and chest like a balloon.