The Beginning of the End (Book 1): Toward the Brink (7 page)

“Elliot, where are you? I’ve been worried.”

“Yes, Dad, I’m fine, but you don’t sound too good.”

“I’ve been watching news reports on TV of the demonstrators getting out of control down at the medical center, burning things and taking over the street. They’re saying it was planned by left wing agitators that had infiltrated the leadership of the group. I know you were going to the shopping complex, and that wasn’t far from the disturbance.”

“Dad, Dad, stop. Just stop,” Elliot interrupted. “It’s not the demonstrators or left wingers, and there’s no TV crews down here at all, Dad, none. It’s the sickness, Dad, the sickness that Mom told us about. The same thing that hit Twin Falls six months or so ago and the rest of Idaho too. It’s back, and this time, it’s lethal.”

He wanted to say that he thought it was responsible for his mother’s death, but this wasn’t the time. Would it ever be?

Mr. Goodwin accepted his son’s word without question as he had always accepted his wife’s.

“Then why are they saying this on the news? It doesn’t make sense to cover it up, but …” his father paused, reprimanding himself. “Well yeah, I guess it would.”

The only pertinent thing that the captain had said since Elliot had the misfortune of meeting him was to go see his parents. Once he explained the cause of the sickness and what he had personally witnessed, he was given a cell phone.

“Dad, this is a lot worse than they are obviously saying. It’s all over the state. Has the news mentioned that the National Guard has been activated?”

“No, they haven’t said anything of the kind, but that reminds me. I saw the two Johnson boys drive off earlier, and they both had their uniforms on, and …”

“Dad, you there?”

Elliot heard the bell above the door of their store ding and realized his father was taking a look into the street.

“Yes, I’m here, son. The street’s empty. What is the National Guard going to do? We were told it’s a demonstration that got out of control.”

“I don’t know, Dad, but with the hundred or more sick pouring out of the medical center, cops armed to the back teeth, and now the National Guard coming in … The atmosphere’s so thick you can grab it with your hands!”

He wanted the conversation with his dad to be a good one; he knew it might be his last, but it was impossible to talk about anything good considering the situation.

“The captain did say there was going to be an evacuation from the city area, and I think you should get a head start, and …”

“What about the store?”

“Fuck the store, Dad!” Elliot was infuriated. “There won’t be any customers at all after the evacuation, so take what you can and get out. Take the truck, grab as much dried and canned food as you can, and head out to … to … Hey, Dad, does Aunt Kath still have that shelter in Canada?”

“Do you really think it’s that bad?”

“Yes, I do. It might be the only way to avoid this sickness, Dad. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can, okay? And Dad …”

“Yes, Elliot?”

“I … I love you.”

# # #

The Tall Man drove around the outer edges of Twin Falls. He didn’t want to get caught up in any traffic issues that he was sure would be happening with all these police and EMT vehicles screaming around. He was headed to his next destination—he had a little package to drop off: Mrs. Dennard.

His cell phone rang twice then stopped, as was the procedure. An exact thirty seconds later, it rang again. He answered immediately.

“Yes sir?” he said.

“You have Mrs. Dennard with you?”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“I assume she is … all right?”

“Yes, sir, she’s taking a nap at the moment, you might say.”

There was no laughter or the slightest interest in sharing a lighthearted moment, and the Tall Man wasn’t expecting any either. It was a feeling of unease that brought about the remark.

“Good, now tell me of the house.”

He explained that he’d placed several incendiary devices around the house, turned on all gas appliances, and that it was set to blow in another seven minutes.

“That will work, but there has been a slight change of plan. You need to get yourself and Mrs. Dennard to the airport. Things are getting worse by the minute all over the state. Martial law has been activated, the National Guard are inbound to all the main cities in the state, curfews and evacuations are going to be the order of the day, Mr. Black, and the panic is going to be widespread. These guardsman are trigger-happy lowbrows and may prove to be more dangerous in the end.”

There was a moment of silence as the Tall Man contemplated the last statement..

“What I’m telling you, Mr. Black, is that your employment with Langlie is over. You need to get out of Idaho before it’s too late. I’m already on my way to the capital and will be there in a few hours. You’ll be met at the airport. They’re expecting you.”

The Tall Man paused for a moment of reflection after the phone conversation had ended then turned in his seat to speak with the unconscious Mrs. Dennard.

“‘They’re expecting you.’ I don’t like the sound of that. Who the fuck are ‘they’ anyway?”

# # #

The white Mazda van carrying Phillip Baer, five top executives, and of course Langlie, was just south of Baker City, Idaho on the 84. They were to board a small, twin-engine Cessna that would take them into Canada.

“So you are sure Dennard knows how to get there?” Baer asked.

“Yes, Mr. Baer. I gave him detailed plans on how to get there.” Langlie wondered how many more times he would have to respond to the same question. If he kept it up on the flight out of Canada, he’d probably end up killing the son of a bitch.

Not before I get what’s mine. Not before I get what’s mine!

# # #

The Tall Man slowed down, easing over to the side of the road. The Twin Falls airport was up ahead where a private plane waited to spirit him and the unfortunate Mrs. Dennard away—or did it? The Tall Man didn’t like the change in attitude of the Hidden One or the hints of total chaos. It had been less than an hour since he’d spoken with the man of mystery, and Mrs. Dennard had offered no resistance when he called on her. He’d had no idea of the impending catastrophe, nor did he understand the sudden disinterest in where Baer and company where headed, but it left him with a feeling that this plane trip would be his last.

Searching his mind for options—one doesn’t just walk away from these people—his train of thought was lost when a mass of green mucus splashed against the passenger side window.

“Holy shit!” he yelled.

The wrinkled, chalky-gray skin of Mrs. Dennard’s face came into view in the SUV’s interior mirror. The same green ooze dripped from her black, thin lips, and her eyes were all red, embers from the fires of hell. When the Tall Man heard gurgling sounds coming from her throat, he wasted no time in throwing the door open. He flung himself onto the ground and rolled as he had been trained many years ago. A spray of green drenched the driver’s seat where he had sat a mere second before.

“Jesus Christ, but you got ugly!”

He stripped a .357 Desert Eagle from a shoulder holster as he got to his feet. He took several steps back as he stared at the abomination in the back of the car. The back door creaked open, and the Tall Man watched as first one foot then the other was planted into the gravel by the roadside. A moment later, the former Mrs. Dennard staggered from the vehicle.

“Fuck me!”

The echo of the .357 Magnum was most likely heard by the inhabitants of the few farm houses that surrounded the airport, if there were any alive, but the Tall Man wasn’t concerned. He thought gunshots would be common out this way.

“So how do I get out of here now?” the Tall Man asked aloud, looking at the green spew that covered the SUV. “I’m not getting in there!”

# # #

The rumble of National Guard trucks and Hummers was heard before they were seen. The convoy approached from the east side of Filer Avenue, pausing at each intersection to let a squad of troops out. The evacuation had been given top priority, and it wasn’t “go home, get your belongings, and
then
leave the city.” It was a simple “leave now and don’t ask questions in the process.” Other vehicles had come from the west side of Filer, and other units, augmented by police and sheriff’s deputies, pressed from the north and the south respectively. The medical center was to be surrounded.

“Cindy?” Elliot called out after ending his conversation with his dad. “Cindy, where are you?”

A muffled screech came from inside Captain Brandt’s SUV.

“What the fuck?” Elliot rushed to the vehicle and swung the door to the back seat open. Brandt was on top of Cindy, pulling at her blouse and her pants with one hand while clasping the other over her mouth.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” Elliot seethed with anger. Only eighteen and unarmed, he wanted to kill the thirty-something cop with enough firepower to start a revolution—or finish one.

“Elliot! Elliot!” Cindy screamed. “Get this bastard off me!”

In his rage, he was able to easily pull the captain from the back seat. Brandt cushioned his fall as he hit the road and rolled to one side under the car door. Elliot slammed the door shut to get to Brandt, who had now jumped to his feet.

“Careful now, little boy.” The hammer of the Ruger Redhawk made an audible click as it was drawn back.

Faced with the barrel of a .44 Magnum, which looked like a cannon at close range, Elliot’s desire to tear the cop to pieces abated somewhat.

“Tell you what. You grab your girl and get out of here, and I’ll forget this little incident, okay?”

“Okay, but don’t ever cross my path again, Brandt.” Elliot held his hands out, palms up.

“You’re not in the best position to make any threats.” Brandt eased the hammer down on the Redhawk.

“Neither are you, fuck-knuckle!” The barrel of a Sig Sauer P-226 pressed against Brandt’s temple.

“I’m glad to see
you,
Sarge. Wondered where you got to.”

Elliot eased the big Ruger out of the hands of the once overconfident Brandt, now a sailing ship without a wind in the middle of the ocean and at the mercy of the elements.

“You bastard!” Cindy yelled. Furious that she’d been attacked, she sought payback. She stormed from the other side of the police SUV and marched up behind Brandt. To Cindy, he was just a bastard that had come close to raping her. The riot gun she had taken from the front seat wasn’t seen—not until she raised it to the back of Brandt’s head.

# # #

First year rookie cop Rodney Tibbuts picked himself up from the road. He cautiously dusted the pebbles of broken windshield glass from his uniform.

“Are you all right, sir?” a concerned pedestrian asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just shaken a little. Can you check on the other driver?”

Tibbuts was more than shaken. He didn’t think he would be able to remain conscious much longer.

“Sure, I’ll do that … right away.”

The rookie noted the pause by the pedestrian as he stepped closer. It was the smell of the green puke that covered the back of his head and face.

“Just check on the driver, please. I’ll call in.”

He staggered back toward the Twin Falls police SUV. Apart from a dented grill and a smashed window, it didn’t appear like it was in bad shape. He saw all airbags that activated had deflated. He steadied himself by resting a guiding hand on the hood. When he got to the driver’s side door, he opened it; he had forgotten all about his passenger.

Long, pointed, nailed hands reached out from the front seat, clawing at Tibbuts. The nurse he was taking to the clinic had been hidden under the airbags.

“Damn you, you crazy …” He took a startled jump to one side and almost toppled over.

As the nurse pulled herself forward along the seat, the guttural sound of a mangy dog came from deep inside her.

“My God, what the fuck is that?” A motorist who had seen the commotion from a distance had come over with the intention of offering assistance until he saw the nurse, or what was once a nurse, crawl from the police vehicle.

“Those eyes … What happened to the eyes?”

“Stand back, sir,” Tibbuts said.

Too late. The nurse launched a spray of green foam that hit the motorist high on the chest, some of it splashing into his mouth. Tibbuts pulled his pistol as fast as his trembling hand would allow.

“I don’t know what you are, you bitch, but you ain’t human!”

Two 9mm slugs punched through the head of the nurse that, only minutes ago, he had been rushing to save. A green mist puffed from the exit wound in the back of the head. She
schlopped
like a wet blanket, dead on the road.

“Oh shit!”

Tibbuts turned to see the conscientious motorist throw up.

He doesn’t know how lucky he is to be able to spew normal,
Tibbuts thought.

# # #

“Sir, a call for you. On line two.”

“Thank you.”

The silver-haired, sixtyish man took the phone from his young assistant. He waited until he was out of range before he answered.

“Yes?”

He looked out the small window of the private Lear jet while he listened. The sun shone in an almost cloudless sky, bathing the surrounding farms in a warm glow. If it wasn’t for the small issue that the very structure of society was about to collapse, it could be considered quite a pleasant day.

“Well, it matters not any longer. The CDC has updated its threat assessment and will present it within the hour to the President. There’s a good chance that martial law will be declared across the country as it has been here in Idaho. I’ve made that my recommendation too, along with the closure of all national and international airports. So you see, bringing Mr. Black in to tie up some loose threads is completely irrelevant when the whole gown is about to unravel.”

He ended the call and threw the cell phone on the empty seat next to him. It was time to get airborne.

# # #

Captain Brandt had planned his attack carefully, or so he’d thought. While Elliot was on the phone with his father, he’d presented himself to Cindy as a concerned individual and not a police captain. He offered her the use of his cell phone and a private area where she could talk to her parents. He explained that the phone was in his SUV, that he would escort her to it and keep a watch over her. The captain had made sure his SUV was situated away from the other vehicles, and if he acted fast no one would hear.