Immortality (39 page)

The video image shifted to another piece showing a mob of soot-faced people raging down the streets, breaking into stores, setting fires. Fights were erupting spontaneously within the mob. Someone grabbed the camera. The video went black.

“Those aren’t gangs,” said Artie. “Those are just people. They’ve all gone fucking insane!”

Artie knew the gangs were there too, growing stronger, feeding off the mobs – maybe even inciting it all. They would emerge as the new rulers of this world. Long live the Bloods, and the Crypts, and the Dragons.

The television screen switched to a female reporter standing on the George Washington Bridge. Spotlights from the New Jersey Quarantine line had been turned around and were being used to help people find their way across. Soldiers were mixed in among the people and trying to help. The plague lands of New Jersey were now sanctuary. A gust of wind stole the reporter’s scarf and carried it over the side of the bridge. She glanced at it and then turned back to face the camera.

“
Reports are coming in from the other bridges and tunnels. They are all jammed with auto accidents. People are climbing over the wreckage in a panic to get out. If you are listening to me from your homes, please stay there. Stay inside wherever you are. It is not safe to try to leave.”

The image shifted to the anchor desk. A man with splotched makeup stared back.

“
We are receiving information from Reuters that kill zones have occurred again along the New Jersey coast. One minute please. Atlantic City, Seaside, Wildwood. What?... Please stand by... Yes...”

He pressed in on his earphone with his fingers.

“
Something is happening in Philadelphia. We have received an unconfirmed report that the Philadelphia area has been struck by what has been described as a large kill zone. Reports are now starting to come in over the wire. There are names of cities, areas that have been hit. These events are taking place almost simultaneously. We have no idea of the magnitude. These could be small or large events. The names are scrolling too fast to read. London has been hit, Zurich, Moscow, Chicago... Excuse me…”

The man’s voice cracked. His eyes flooded with tears. His face was red. He took off his microphone. The camera shifted to a female anchor.

“
This is Laura Martin. John Ackerman’s family lives in Chicago. I will try to continue keeping you informed. The reports of outbreaks are in the hundreds. We are receiving information of widespread deaths in Asia, Okinawa, Hong Kong. No place seems untouched by these events. God help us... God help us all.”

Artie laid his head down on Suzy’s lap and cried. He’d never cried before, but what he was feeling was too much… it was all too much. Suzy curled up with him on the couch. She nuzzled against him. When the pain finally dimmed, he opened his eyes. His vision was blurred with water. The screen was showing coverage from Washington, D.C. People were lying on the sidewalks by the reflecting pond. The camera was canted to one side and there was no one to level it. In the background the Washington monument was brightly lit against a darkened sky. Wind blew leaves across the ground. Suzy’s parents lived on the outskirts of D.C. He reached for the remote and turned the set off. Suzy never saw it and thankfully the reporter had said nothing specific about D.C.

“What are we going to do?” said Suzy.

Artie got up and then lifted her to him. She looked awful. There was age showing on her twenty-three year old face.

“We are going to stop watching this tragedy on TV and we’re going to get out of here. We are getting out before it’s too late.”

“We can’t go!”

“Yes, we can, honey. Listen to me. We can’t stay. What happens if we lose power? What happens when the food runs out?”

“The Army will be here by then.”

“Look at what they’re showing. The Army isn’t coming to save us from this. There aren’t enough soldiers in the entire world. The longer we stay in this island death trap, the worse our chances will be.”

“There’s no way out. The bridges are jammed.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks with a shirtsleeve. “There are mobs killing people in the streets. We’ll be murdered if we go out there. I’m not going, Artie. I’m not!”

“We’re going to wait until the sun comes up. Most of these crazies will be tired after a long night of fun. We are going to drive as far as we can and walk the rest of the way if we have to.”

The plague had been mostly quiet since the Los Angeles kill zone almost two weeks ago. The day was clear and very warm for December. It was almost twelve noon. Sarah would be off the clock in a few more minutes. Her speedometer read eighty-five. She glanced into the back seat of her patrol car. Ralph looked happily in the midst of some grand canine dream. Next to him were a beach blanket and a small ice chest with lunch inside. The timing was perfect. She’d be off the clock at a location on her patrol nearest Virginia Beach.

At precisely twelve noon, she cleared the radio for the day and got permission to open up the throttle and head east for a little R-and-R. The beach was the nearest thing to heaven she could imagine. She’d find a deserted spot and nap amid the sound of waves and gulls. Ralph could spend the day chasing birds and getting petted by kids.

At first, she had thought about inviting Alex; but she needed time alone to think. They’d been together every minute they weren’t working for the past two days and they were thrilled with each other. Sarah was starting to get cold feet. She was afraid something bad had to happen. Things were just coming together too perfectly. She and Alex had made love again last night just before their shifts started. His health seemed fine. In fact, he seemed to be growing younger.

Sarah bit her lip as she drove. The only black mark today had been when a CDC request had come in via fax and e-mail. The request ordered authorities to increase their efforts to locate and detain what were being called ‘sole family survivors.’ The orders included a questionnaire for potential subjects to answer. The CDC was searching for people who were immune to the plague. Sarah knew they were looking for people like her and so did Alex.

Alex had become upset. He wanted to know what pencil pusher idiot had come up with this idea of a questionnaire. What were they expected to do? They had orders to shoot to kill anyone trying to cross the line.

“
Excuse me, sir. I know we just told you to back off and go fuck yourself, but would you mind terribly taking the time to fill out our little questionnaire?”

The police radio broke her thoughts. The report was a line-jump attempt in progress near Williamsburg. Someone on a motorcycle had used a hand-grenade on the razor wire and gotten through onto the southern lane. Williamsburg was less than fifteen miles behind her. The patrol cars were equipped with transponders which radioed exact position automatically every second. She picked up the microphone.

“Dispatch this is ten-ten. Do you want response?”

“Ten-ten negative. Perp is west bound at a hundred and fifty plus. We have closer units. Nothing you can do, Sarah; besides, you’ve earned your day off. Hit the beach and bring back a little sand for the rest of us.”

“Ten-four, Alice.”

Someone trying to jump the line in daylight was unusual. This perp was either stupid or desperate or maybe a little of both. Sarah’s heart was beating fast even though she was far from the action. People she knew were responding to the call. They were playing a dangerous game. She’d had a tense moment the other morning. At five a.m., she’d been first responder to a tripwire alert. She’d had to draw her weapon to hold back the jumpers. She’d been alone for minutes that had seemed like hours. Never before in her career had she been so close to using deadly force. Several guys with wire cutters were trying to snip their way through the second fence. Apparently unarmed and intoxicated, they’d ignored her warnings because she wasn’t a man. They’d called her sexy. She knew if they’d opened the fence, her gun would have been the only way to stop them. Finally, backup had arrived. Sam got out of his cruiser and jacked a shell into a riot gun as he walked over. As soon as they saw a policeman instead of a policewoman, the jumpers gave up. The entire event was insane. She could have been forced to shoot them because they were too stupid to believe she’d use her gun. Sarah shook her head. All in all, she’d been lucky and knew it. So far, she’d only had that one incident. Nighttime line work was a high encounter patrol. The radio squawked again.

“All cars on pursuit zulu-five, backed it down to one double zero miles per hour. Put some distance between you and the perp. We have air coming in.”

Sarah was stunned. ‘Air coming in’ meant an Army Apache had been dispatched. They wanted this one stopped fast. He must have been nearing some exit point where they could lose him.

“This is dispatch. Air confirms: splash one jerk on a bike.”

“Shit, Bobby did you see that! That fucking Bushmaster chain-cannon turned ’em into a self-igniting red spot. Goddamn… Score one for the Apaches!”

“Copy that.”

Sarah was torn between relief and cynicism. The thermostat was definitely being turned up on her job. The official number of kills for this week was now ten. A secret war had been declared on civilians trying to jump the line. She wondered what Alex would say about this one. She’d been on the job only a week but already understood how things worked. It wasn’t just fear of contagion that was powering the line; it was greed powered, too. Rumors had been circulating through every city, town, and squatter’s camp that the plague didn’t like warmer southern regions. If millions of people started migrating, the infrastructure of the southern states would be strained to the breaking point. If expensive social programs weren’t enacted, there would be mass starvation and crime. Those in power were in no mood to take on the care and feeding of hordes of godless northerners. To some, an old fashioned plague was just not as serious a problem as financial drain. Sarah sped past the Norfolk Naval Base at almost a hundred and twenty miles per hour. In another fifteen minutes, she’d hit Virginia Beach.

Sarah pulled her cruiser into a secluded spot. She didn’t want a passerby to see an officer of the law stripping in her car. She wrapped her uniform inside her Kevlar vest and stowed it in the trunk along with her weapons. She wore a two-piece bathing suit under her cut-offs, t-shirt, and sandals. The weather was cool enough that she figured the bathing suit would never see sunlight today.

Sarah pulled a small cooler from the backseat. Ralph was already prancing through clumps of reeds and sand. He let out a short bark as a pelican took to the air. The sudden movement startled Sarah. She looked up just as the pelican flew directly over her head, less than ten feet above her. The bird was huge and prehistoric in appearance like a flying dinosaur. Ralph must have been startled too, because he came back to her and hung around until they both ventured onto the sand together.

Sarah had little trouble finding a deserted stretch of sand – almost the entire beach fell into that category. She laid out her beach towel a hundred yards from a small group of people and sat down. There was a distant smell of barbecue. She could see small children playing in the surf. The scene was almost like a slice of some earlier age that had been lost to this newly troubled world. She was saddened that those people and their joy now seemed so out of place.

Sarah remained on her towel a few more minutes and then stood up. Maybe a walk would get her more into the spirit of things. It was her day off. Why was she this depressed? She left her sandals near the towel and walked barefoot along the surf.

The water was up to her ankles. The damp sand felt good as it formed into the contours of her feet. She stopped for a moment and let the water move past her. As it receded, it pulled back some of the sand from beneath her. She could feel it slipping between her toes. There was a bitter sweetness to it. The sand was like her life that had slipped away.

“Damn it,” she muttered. “Stop moping, and get with the program.”

She picked up a thin piece of driftwood and tossed it into the waves. Ralph charged past her and into the water. A wave came over him, throwing spray into air. A titanic struggle ensued. He emerged with the wood firmly between his teeth. Sarah could swear she saw him grinning. He was the conquering hero with his prize. He dropped the trophy at her feet. She picked up the wood and threw into some scrub grass. He yelped and was off to fetch it.

A cool breeze was coming off the ocean. The sky had grown a little overcast. The deepening mix of charcoal and blue gave the sky a bruised look. Sarah strolled the beach without aim or direction. At some point she picked up a scallop seashell. The shell was perfectly formed. She studied it for a moment before deciding to keep it. She was closer to the group of people. She could hear the squeals of children blending in with the calls of gulls. A huge flock was patrolling the sands between her and the people. There were hundreds of birds. She’d never seen so many in one place. Their calls were eerily like the sounds of a crowd of people at a cocktail party. Sarah wondered why so many birds were drawn together like that? As she strolled, she looked down at her feet and noticed for the first time that the water was teaming with hatching fish. Countless thousands moved like tiny silver darts in the tidal water. The gulls were here for the feast of baby fish.

Sarah felt disturbed. She looked down the shoreline. A father was walking knee deep into the waves to retrieve his child. He scooped up the little girl and set her on his shoulders. She had memories like that – memories of a wonderful father and an entire life she had been trying to forget. She looked at the seashell that was still in her hand. The shell was an artwork of nature. She stared at its intricate pattern of radiated lines and concentric circular ridges. A chill worked through her. There was a powerful feeling of déjà vu. She looked around and recognized her surroundings, but it was almost as if she was also somewhere else.