Authors: Jacqueline Druga
The store, though dark, was untouched, almost as if they closed for the night and never reopened. Merchandise was still on the shelves. Nothing disheveled. Perfect displays, the only thing that indicated something happened was the large cold and flu supply set up near the front of the store. A dust covered sign read, ‘Flu Season is here.’
That was it.
The farther back they walked, the less dusty it was. Sealed off from the world. It was as if the world just stopped and everyone disappeared.
Nora and Jason located the bicycle department in the back of the PX. They lifted two bikes from the display rack, and found a hand pump in the store.
While Jason prepared the bikes, Nora grabbed a hiking backpack. She wandered the store, getting items she knew she needed that weren’t in those boxes from storage.
Soap, packaged tee shirts, safe from dust and deterioration, undergarments still in packs, were just some of the things. She hit the camping section, bearing in mind what she would be able to carry on the bike.
When he located her, Nora was crouched on a section of the floor she had cleaned.
“Done shopping?” Jason asked as he approached. “Bikes are ready.”
“Sorry, yeah. Almost done here.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m, making Skivvy rolls.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Skivvy rolls.” She tossed him what looked like a stuffed half, tube sock. “You wouldn’t believe what is in those.”
“It’s a sock.”
“A pair of socks, underwear, tee shirt. Each roll is different.”
“Impressive. How did you learn to do this?” he asked.
“My father and … eight years of service. Including two combat tours.”
“You served. You never mentioned it.”
“I didn’t …” Nora stood. “I didn’t remember until I walked in here. Saw the BCU’s and it all came back to me. I served then got married. Weird isn’t it? You would think I would remember that.”
“Makes you wonder what else we aren’t recalling.”
“Yeah. Most of my childhood is a blur.”
Jason blinked slowly. “So is mine.”
She handed him his sleeping roll. “We can take turns lugging this thing.” She placed the pack on her back.
“Bikes are over here.” Jason pointed, then walked ahead of her, and took one.
“Wouldn’t it be funny if we didn’t remember how to ride?”
“Yeah, real funny.” Jason said with little emotion as he pushed his bike toward the front of the store. “Nora, did you by chance look at any of the names on the other Genesis units?”
“Some. Not all. Why?”
“Are you sure you weren’t supposed to be there and just got put in the wrong unit.”
“Why do you say that?”
Jason shook his head. “You were at the Astoria, right? Have you ever been there before? I think you said the station put you there because everything was overbooked. What if that wasn’t the case? What is you were meant to be there.”
“For what purpose.”
“Maybe you’re more important than you remember. Not that you aren’t important and all. But I think you know what I mean.”
Nora didn’t respond because just as he finished saying that, she saw them.
“Nora.”
“Why didn’t I think of this?” She perched the bike against a bin and hurried to the checkout line. “Impulse shopping. Magazines. Tabloids.”
“Okay.”
“They come out weekly.” The front magazines were hard to decipher, worn and dirty. Nora reached to the back of the first bunch of tabloids and grabbed one. She flicked on her pen flashlight to see the date. “Odd. November. So this shut down before our experiment. Malcolm said that last date was … the fourteenth.” She moved behind the register and pulled out the trash bin. “Yep.” She lifted a receipt. “November tenth. Doesn’t look like anything unusual. So that tells me in that month everything …” she stopped talking when she noticed Jason stared in horror at a tabloid. “Jason?”
His hand shook as he extended the tabloid to her. He used his light so she could read it.
The ‘sensationalized’ gossip sheet called The Globe News had a picture of the first lady on the cover.
It read,
“My husband is not dead!”
With the sub headliner:
‘Top scientist claims president was not killed in explosion. He is cryogenically frozen to survive impending Apocalypse.
’
“Oh my God,” Nora flipped it open.
“Wanna take a bet on who that scientist is?”
Nora lifted her eyes. “Summer Rosewood.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah it is.” She rolled up the tabloid and looked, there were more. One was a dedicated edition to the explosion in New York. Nora grabbed that as well. In fact she grabbed several, so the others could read. And they would. The magazines were a source of information, sensationalized or not.
Loaded down, they hopped on the bikes and made their way across the parking lot and down the road.
The store, the magazine, like they had been, the world seemed frozen in time.
Unlike any books she read, documentaries or movies, nothing Nora had seen depicted a major event such as a plague or war. No remnants of panic shopping, looting or violence. Everything was just a dusty, overgrown normal until they hit the first main intersection of base.
They had to stop, literally they could go no farther. It was clear to Nora. There was no more second guessing.
Abandoned military trucks obstructed the intersection alongside the blockades. Signs marked ‘Quarantine Zone’ were everywhere. Buildings were taped off, some were covered in plastic. Biohazard symbols were plastered everywhere as frequently as cracks in the sidewalks.
Abandoned cars, doors open scattered across the street. Papers and debris blew about among spilled personal belongings.
At the barricade, there were bodies, or rather skeletal remains in tattered clothing. A huge dump truck was filled to the capacity with body bags.
The carnage, the desolation and desecration of the virus extended as far as the eye could see.
The hybrid virus intended to decrease population wreaked havoc, at least on base it did.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Harrison stared into the camera. His face was worn, he looked tired and thinner than the messages they had seen when they were below. “Truly I am. I’m sorry.” He reached up and the video ended.
With an exhale, Malcolm sat back. “That’s the only one. The rest is data that I can’t make heads or tails out of.”
“We should have waited,” John said. “Until Jason and Nora returned.”
“I don’t mind watching it again,” Malcolm said. “At least we know the facts about transportation.” He lifted a folder.
Amy asked. “How long will it take to get them ready?”
“Not long,” Malcolm answered and his head turned quickly to the right when he heard the scuffling of feet.
Nora and Jason walked in.
Jason peered up. “We have power?”
“Solar,” Malcolm answered as he stood. “I don’t know how long it will last. Did you guys find anything?”
Jason replied. “It’s dead out there. Bad.” He shook his head.
“What we saw at the main portion of base,” Nora added. “I hope to God isn’t what we’ll see everywhere.”
“What did you see?” Amy asked impassioned. “What?”
“Chaos, death,” Nora answered. “Just everything you would imagine.”
“Did you see any bodies?” John asked.
Meredith gasped out an offended, “John!”
“No, it’s important,” John said. “Did you?”
Nora nodded. “We did. A lot.”
“So you saw bodies. Any exposed, not wrapped?” John quizzed.
“Yeah.”
“What state were they in?”
Again, Meredith gasped out. “John. Why is this important? It’s morbid.”
“It’s a time frame,” John stated. “We don’t know how long we were out. Nora, were they pure bones, partial bones, just decay?”
“Bones,” Nora answered.
“Good. Good.” John looked around. “At least we know we aren’t hundreds of years in the future. Maybe a few at most. We’ll know more when we leave here. Malcolm found our transportation. What are those?” he asked, nodding his head at Nora.
She dropped the magazines on the desk. “Apparently, New York had the worst terror attack in decades. Started another war, I’m guessing it wasn’t what they planned. I didn’t read it all, but I brought those. It might give us some insight. Things look like they fell apart before Thanksgiving.”
“They did,” Malcolm said. “The war wasn’t part of the plan.”
Jason asked. “How do you know?”
Malcolm returned to his chair and turned toward the computer. “Watch.”
After clicking on the file, Dr. Harrison appeared.
“Good evening … or whatever time of day it is. If you are seeing this, then you have uncovered the power source, that gives me hope. You have emerged from the Genesis project, or maybe you are from a distant planet or future inhabitants of this planet, in any event, this video should shed some light. Before I continue on, you will need to examine the brown folder in the bottom desk drawer. This will give you information regarding a means of transportation for you off of this base. God willing you brought the supplies from below.”
Malcolm lifted the folder and showed Nora.
“In an attempt to perform a population cull, a synthetic version of Measles was introduced into the population by way of air travel,” Dr. Harrison said. “An aerosol form was placed into the air ducts of one hundred aircraft, the passengers were unknowingly exposed to this airborne invader. We believed it would decrease the population by thirty-five percent. We expected half of those exposed to become sick. It was going as planned, but somewhere somehow it got out of control. The vaccine that had been created was useless, the virus mutated quickly, rendering any cure we believed we had, useless. That was one of the problems. There were twenty-four Genesis projects across the globe. I can speak for only this one. The diversion, the explosion, caused a ripple effect, bringing countries to the front lines of war. All this, while the virus ravaged our world. No singular focus was in one place. Which, I believe was a downfall. Things cascaded, less people worked as more grew ill. We were unable to handle the sick. Violence, riots, all that you could imagine … took its toll. By mid-November it was obvious that the cull was out of control and millions were dying by the day. The Genesis project was shut down on tenth of December and four days later, I returned to the office and activated the reset. Which means, I restarted your stasis. It is automatic and at this time, I do not know when you will wake. I do hope that when you do, you emerge into a beautiful world that has healed from this godforsaken illness. This virus, I believe was our punishment for our arrogance. Mother Nature’s way of saying it was time to clean up and thank you for helping out. Now I must be honest with you. You had been promised your family. You had been promised compensation. Obviously if you are seeing this, none of that is waiting for you. Despite the fact that your families were informed that you passed on in the explosion, they were indeed given a vaccine. I hope that you find them well. Best of luck in all that you do. I’m sorry.” He lowered his head. “Truly, I am. I’m sorry.”
Jason tossed out his hands. “So we know nothing more.”
“No,” Nora corrected. “We know a lot more. We know there was a war, the virus didn’t work, it was out of control, the vaccine was a bust, and we aren’t decades into the future. We know more than we did four hours ago. Now, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I sure want to know when those vehicles will be ready, because I need to find my family.”
“We all do,” John said. “But before any of us take off, we need a plan. We need to find a way to stick together or make it back together, because as hard as it is to face …” John looked at each and every person. “We here, may very well be all that’s left of the human race.”
Just before sundown, Nora, John and Grant made their way back to the PX and gathered more sleeping bags for the others. Along with three small tents and other camping supplies. Following Nora’s earlier lead, they also grabbed some items to wear. Even though there would be chances to get supplies on the road, it still was better to be prepared. Beyond the confines of the base was a great mystery.
They had moved from the small inside lab office to outside, creating a campsite.
“It could be fine,” Amy said, glancing across the campfire. “I mean. I once saw this movie that an area was quarantined, and the rest of the world was fine. This is where the project started. Maybe this is where they quarantined.”
Grant smiled peacefully at her. “That’s a cool thought. That we’re all packed up for some hardened journey and we pull out onto a busy highway.”
“Life goes on,” Meredith added. “It finds away. There’s life out there beyond this base. What kind of life, I don’t know. But it’s there.”
Nora didn’t join in the fire conversation, she lay off to the side, reading by the light of a lantern and some of the campfire glow. Before her was an open notebook, along with the tabloids and magazines she grabbed from the PX.
John had moved across the lot where Malcolm worked on the ‘buggies’, probably being more of an annoyance than any help. Jason was quiet, he didn’t say much. Nora figured he was still processing. Everyone had to deal with things their own way and their own time frame.
She took to starting a journal. It was her way of dealing. Taking notes, writing thoughts. She slowly withdrew from paying attention to what was being said by the campfire until she reached the point that the silence finally caught her attention. She had been so engrossed, she didn’t notice everyone had fallen asleep.
Nora wasn’t tired. In fact she hadn’t slept much or well since she woke from stasis. She closed her journal, picked up the wristwatch, saw the time of three AM, and was going to call it a night, when she heard the clank of metal and Malcolm cursing out, “Oh, goddamn it.”
He was still at it.
Not that she could help, but Nora decided to see if he needed anything.
Malcolm had moved three of the buggies more to the center of the lot. Supplies were already loaded in them and she followed the light that came from the open garage door of the warehouse.
As she neared, John walked through the darkness, staggering some.
“You all right?” she asked.
“Yep. I finally have hit that level where I think I can sleep.” He lifted a bottle and dangled a cup from his other hand. “Since I didn’t want to take a chance on the expiration of the Go-Doze pills, this worked. Want a hefty night cap?”
“No. But thanks.”
“Suit yourself. I know you’re not sleeping either.”
“On second thought.” She said.
John stopped walking, he finished the few drops that remained in his glass and poured a healthy amount in the cup, handing it to Nora. “Enjoy. Night.”
“Night.” Nora watched him drunkenly walk away, sniffed the brown liquid and cocked back. It was strong and burned her nostrils. It was something she’d sip, and she did as she walked to the garage.
She stopped cold in the garage when she saw all the parts scattered on the floor.
“Come to help, watch, or ask a million questions?” Malcolm asked from his seat on the floor. He was surrounded by parts.
“All three. What... are these? Is this buggy broke?”
“It is now,” Malcolm said. “We only need three, so I figured the best way to learn this thing was to take it apart and put it back together. Only now …”
“You can’t get it back together?”
“Nope. I will though.”
“No doubt.” Nora said and joined him on the floor.
“Can’t sleep?” Malcolm asked.
Nora shook her head.
“Me either. I see John gave you some sleep aid.”
“Maybe you should try some.”
“Oh, I did.” Malcolm picked up a part and examined it. “A third of a bottle. I feel nothing.”
“That could be the reason you can’t get this back together.”
He laughed. “It might be. I saw you working on something.”
“Oh, just writing in a journal and reading and learning all I could from those magazines.”
“Anything interesting?”
Nora took a sip of her drink. “The explosion was a dirty bomb. Or so they say. Flattened six blocks of New York, contaminated most of the city.”
“So they say.”
“So they say,” Nora took another sip. “Malcolm, from what I read, no one is in New York. It was evacuated.”
He glanced beyond her to the camp. “Does Grant know? He’s from New York.”
“He has the same magazines, I do. So I don’t know if he read them or not.”
“Anything about the war?” Malcolm asked.
“Nothing. Then again, I grabbed gossip magazines. There was also nothing about the virus. Just the rag sheet where they predicted it.”
“So in that one month, from that last magazine, until our reset, everything went to shit.”
“Looks that way. Amy and Grant are so optimistic.” Nora looked back.
“What about you?”
“I want to say I’m realistic. But the love of my family puts me in the optimistic category. Jason, I think he is wrestling between fear and faith.”
“That’s good.” Malcolm lifted a tool and pointed it at her. “John isn’t optimistic, he’s being a realist. He’s not holding high hopes that his family made it. At least what he told me. He said, he’ll grieve when he knows.”
“What about you?” Nora asked.
“Me? I may not seem it but I’m crushed.” He squinted his eyes. “We all are and must face what we find. I just hope, if anything I find my oldest son.”
Nora furrowed her brow in confusion. “Why just him?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I want them all to be alive. But him … I was a young father when he was born. Too young and he and I butted heads all the time. Before I left for New York, we got in the biggest fight. He called me an Absentee Dad that I was never around. And I keep thinking how that kid had to feel when he heard I was killed and his last words to me were, ‘Why don’t you stay in New York, not like we’ll notice if we never see you again’. And in my anger, I told him that maybe I would. Stupid.” He tossed a small part, reached out and grabbed the cup from Nora’s hand and took a drink. “And on the other hand, a part of me is thinking, why bother? Why go look? That maybe it is for the best. I’m actually thinking of fixing this buggy and heading right to Champaign.”
“Why would you say that?”
“It’s selfish. But they mourned us, Nora. They lost us, grieved us, and got over us. If they are alive, they have nothing to lose if they never see us again. Us on the other hand, we have a lot less to lose if we never know.”
“If you really believed that you wouldn’t be working so hard to get our transportation going. You’re just scared like the rest of us. But come tomorrow, we’ll get up and we’ll go. We’ll all go. We’ll be more fearful than hopeful. But we’ll go, because not knowing is really not an option.” She exchanged glances, catching his unspoken words through expression that he was in agreement, and then Nora took her drink cup and finished off the nightcap.