Deadlocked 8 (43 page)

I turned left, and walked slowly to his door,
supporting myself against the wall to my left. Each step was
misery, but I soldiered on with strength born of the knowledge that
I would die the way that I chose, and not the way anyone else had
planned for me.

It seemed that all of the doors in the
facility had been opened, and Covington’s was no exception. I could
see through the circular door and through a sterilization chamber
that was the same as the one that preceded my room. The door was
open as well, and I could see an empty chair beyond, with familiar
tubes of green and blue hanging down, just like the ones that had
been attached to me for these past few months.

When I entered the room, I found it empty.
The throne had no king.

A door off to the side was open, and I heard
a muffled voice cooing within. I inched along the wall and
eavesdropped.

“Go to sleep,” said a weary voice. “It’s all
okay. Just close your eyes and go to sleep.”

I reached the threshold and stared in at the
bizarre scene. The room was stark white, as if plucked from a
Kubrickian space ship, with a shower and toilet in one corner,
separated by a glass wall, and a bed in the other. A young, nude
man was laying on the bed, and another man was standing beside him,
stroking the sleeper’s supple skin. The one standing was dressed in
plain, grey clothes, but his skin was dark and raw. His entire body
was scarred, and it looked like his skin threatened to tear with
every move he made. He was looking down at the young man on the
bed, but he heard me coming and turned suddenly to face me. His
beady, black eyes stared out at me, and I was silenced by the
horror of the moment.

Then he grinned and said, “Levon, so glad you
could make it.”

I saw the glint of steel in his hand, and he
followed my gaze. He was holding a cylindrical tube that was sharp
on one end and flat on the other. It looked like an enlarged
version of a needle, but without a canister or plunger.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked as he
lifted the odd weapon. He didn’t wait for me to answer before
explaining. “This is what they used to drill those holes in your
side.” Then he turned slightly to show me a flap in his shirt that
revealed ports in his side that were identical to mine. “And in me
as well.”

“What are you planning on doing with it?”

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s not for you.” He
turned back to the nude figure on the bed. He sighed and said,
“Look at him, Levon. He’s perfect.”

I recognized the man on the bed, but knew it
couldn’t be the same person. “Is that Ben?”

“Yes, well, sort of,” said Covington. “He’s a
clone, just as I was once. The evolution of mankind here before
us.” He held his arms out in grand fashion. There was madness in
him that he couldn’t hide, and it seeped into every word. “It’s no
wonder we have to die.” Then he turned to face me. “Did you come to
kill me, Levon?”

“Beatrice sent me,” I said with a nod. “She
wants me to kill you.”

“Of course she does,” said Covington, nodding
as if in appreciation. “She couldn’t help but build her golem and
send it out, filled with hatred, driven by spite. All for not.”

He stabbed the metal tool deep into the
clone’s throat, causing the body to jerk as blood funneled out
through the cylinder to splash on the pure white floor. He knelt,
and pet the nude man as he whispered, “There, there, my boy. It’s
all over.”

“Why did you do that?” I asked.

“I’d rather him die like this, unconscious
from the drugs I gave him. Painless. Quick. I don’t want him to
burn.”

“Why would he burn?”

“We’re all going to burn, Levon. It’s only a
matter of time now.” I didn’t know what he meant, and he didn’t
give me a chance to ask before saying, “Now come do me the honor of
murdering me. I won’t stop you. Her golem can murder me, but I’ve
already won.”

Covington moved aside as the pool of blood
grew between us. He walked to the end of the clone’s bed, and I
stayed at the room’s entrance. The metal tube jutting from the
clone’s throat was still spewing blood, like a spigot stuck into a
barrel of wine.

“You’re insane,” I said as he stayed on his
island of white, the sea of blood quickly spreading around him.

“Do you think a dying God would let his
murderers walk free?” he asked, and the blood was nearly touching
his feet as it spread. “I might die, Levon. You might very well
kill me today, but I won’t go quietly. Right now, the truth of what
happened is waiting to be told. Everything I knew about the start
of the apocalypse, and the way The Electorate unleashed it, is
waiting to be discovered. They think they can rewrite history by
snuffing me out, but they’re wrong. As soon as this facility is
destroyed, the truth will come out. It doesn’t matter if you kill
me, I’m already dead. So do her bidding, golem.” He stretched out
his arms and said, “Martyr me.”

I shook my head. “I didn’t come here to kill
you.”

This intrigued him, and he cocked his head to
the side when he asked, “Then why are you here?”

“Because if I’m going to die, I’m damn well
going to do it on my own terms. I’ve spent the better part of my
life trying to kill you mother fuckers. I learned to build bombs,
and I was taught to shoot, and I ambushed caravans. I fought and
fought, but when I look back on my best days, on my happiest
moments, none of them have anything to do with revenge. The moments
that I remember, or at least the ones I want to remember, they’re
all about kindness and love. They’re about being with my family and
friends, laughing and crying with them. And if I can’t be with
them, then I’m going to spend my last minutes on earth being the
type of person that would make them proud. I didn’t come here to
kill you, Covington. I came to forgive you.”

Annie Conrad

I was driving south as fast as I could,
desperate to get to New Vineyard before nightfall. The grey promise
of a storm followed me, and the faint snowflakes started to grow
thicker each second. I had to warn Mom and the others about the new
virus, and that Jerald was actively searching for us. We had to
hide away in fear of the drones that searched from the sky above.
There was no other choice. If we wanted to survive, we would have
to hide until it was safe to retreat and leave this area for
good.

Billy had given me a map that showed the way
to New Vineyard, and I had it splayed out across the center
console, its corner dipping in Ben’s blood on the seat beside me.
There had been no time to clean the seat, and I didn’t want to
switch vehicles. This Range Rover had brought us safely to the
rehab center, and I was confident it would get me to New Vineyard,
despite the gashes in the hood from the bear’s attack. However, the
blood was a constant reminder of how badly Ben had been hurt.

I ached for him, desperate to know he was
okay. I’d developed strong feelings for him in such a short time. I
thought of how happy my mom would be for me when she learned of my
relationship with Ben. She frequently talked about how much she
wanted me to meet someone special, and I was eager to let her know
that I had.

The map led me off the highway, and onto a
different route that headed towards the mountains. It was here that
I spied the wreck far ahead. The majority of the road was filled
with cars and trucks that had been pushed off to the side, allowing
only a two-lane passage. Far ahead I could see what looked like a
roadblock, and I feared that raiders had set a trap here. A bus was
parked at an angle, its front end smashed into a vehicle on the
side of the road. A group of people were gathered in front of it,
one of them in what looked like a plastic, yellow suit, and I
slowed to a stop so that I didn’t charge into a bad situation.

I got out and opened the back door to get a
pair of binoculars. I decided to reach for the sniper rifle that
Billy had given me back at the rehab center instead. I knew the
scope was just as powerful as the binoculars, and I was eager to
see how my shoulder felt while holding the weapon. I’d been worried
about the injury I’d reignited when I fell through the roof with
Stubs. I walked to the front of the Range Rover and steadied myself
as I raised the rifle and peered through the sight.

A man was standing there with a pistol
pointed down at a woman’s head. She looked up, and pressed her head
to the barrel, and my heart seized.

My grip tightened, and my lungs turned to
stone. Every muscle in my body tensed as I saw my mother with a gun
to her head.

I remembered the helicopter pilot at
Vineyard, and how my shot missed him just before his guns blazed
and the bullets tore through the people on that bridge. A vision of
the carnage flashed through my mind, reminding me of my failure.
The butt of the rifle was pressed to my injured shoulder as I stood
at least 300 yards from my target. My arms wavered, and I was
certain this shot was impossible. Even if I were laying down, with
the gun propped up on a bipod, this would still be a tough shot as
the storm’s cold wind licked at my back.

I adjusted my angle, and accounted for the
wind. I held my breath and steadied myself. Then I took my
shot.

The man fell, and my mother was still alive.
But this wasn’t over yet.

I aimed again, and took a second shot,
felling another of the men surrounding my mother. The casing seemed
to spin away from the rifle in slow motion when I ejected it and
aimed at another bastard. And again, I hit my target.

They just now reacted, terrified and
uncertain, jolted by the attack. I had to make sure none of them
took a shot at my mother, so I kept firing as I walked forward.
They ran to cover behind the bus, leaving my mother kneeling on the
pavement. I saw her move, but she didn’t get up. Instead, she was
dragging herself to the side of the road, leaving a trail of blood
behind her. It enraged me to know that they’d hurt her, and I
started to fire off even more shots.

The soldiers knew where I was now, and were
firing back at me, but I wasn’t afraid. Their aim couldn’t contend
with mine, and every time they fired I caught sight of where they
were hiding. One after another, I picked them off, each shot
jamming the rifle’s butt into my tortured shoulder. A soldier
climbed up into the mounted gun on one of the Humvees, and started
firing at me, but the moment I saw the flash I was able to drop
him. I saw his body slump down into the vehicle as the gun fell
silent.

“Come on!” I screamed out as I threw an empty
cartridge to the ground and replaced it. I jogged forward, and then
stopped to see if any of them dared to poke their heads out.
Instead, I saw their Humvees reversing and driving away.

I didn’t trust their retreat. I ran to the
side of the road where I got up onto a truck to get a better view.
I climbed over the cab, and then onto the trailer, giving me a good
view of the Humvees in the distance. As I’d feared, they weren’t
fully retreating. They were just trying to get distance to
regroup.

“All right, you sons of bitches, let’s do
this.” I moved to the end of the trailer and laid down, settling in
for a good fight.

I saw a muzzle flash just as a bullet thudded
into the trailer beneath me, and I knew they were trying to snipe
back at me. Fools.

“Is that all you’ve got?” I asked as I took
careful aim. I’d been doing this long enough to know that the
sniper aiming at me was recalibrating his shot after missing, and
would have a far better chance of hitting me now.

Luckily, I don’t need to miss a shot to make
the second.

His head jerked back as a mist of blood
puffed out behind him. I ejected the casing and looked for another
victim. They weren’t deterred, and more shots whizzed through the
air near me, but I was better than all of them. I would happily do
this until every last one of them were lying dead in the road.
After five more kills, they finally retreated. I caught another as
he was trying to get into his Humvee, and his body slumped out of
the driver’s side door.

The soldiers retreated, and I watched until
certain they weren’t planning on turning back to try again. When
they were far off, I climbed down from the truck and ran to my
mother’s side.

“Annie,” she cried out to me. “Be
careful!”

“They’re gone,” I said as I ran up to her.
“It’s okay. What happened? Are you shot?”

“You’re bleeding,” she said to me as she saw
my side.

I looked down at the bite marks on my left
thigh, and said, “I’m fine. Were you shot?” Her left hip was also
injured, but her wound was far more grievous than mine. Blood
sopped her pants, and she winced as she turned to let me see.

“Clyde gave me some bandages. They’re back in
my car. Stay here and I’ll get them.”

“Annie, wait,” she said as she clung to my
arm. “Come here. Come here.” She pulled at me, and her voice was
cracking from what I thought was pain.

“It’s going to be okay,” I said as I tried to
pull free of her grip. “We’ll fix you up. There should be some
Rollers headed this way any minute. You’re going to be fine.”

“Annie, please hug me. Just stay here with
me. I can’t believe it’s really you.” I thought she was hysterical,
and to a certain extent she was, but it wasn’t fear or pain that
caused her to grasp at me, it was joy. “Just let me hold you.”

I knelt down beside her, and let her pull me
close. She started to cry as I promised her that it would be okay.
And then her quiet cry turned to sobs, and her shoulders quaked as
she just continued to hold me tighter and tighter.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” she said as she
ran her hands through my hair. “My beautiful Annie. My beautiful
girl. Look at you.” She released me enough to allow a little space
between us so that we could see each other. My eyes had filled with
tears as well, brought on by empathy as my mother wept. “What
happened to your hair?” she asked as she flicked my short
locks.