The Dying of the Light (Book 3): Beginning (58 page)

“Should just take the doors off,” he muttered as he looked at the constant stream of people. He’d left all but one of the Secret Service detail they’d made him accept outside.

“They’ve cleared the room, sir. We can go in now.”

Ennis looked over to see the head of his detail standing at the end of the hallway. “Thanks, Nick,” he said. “Let’s go.”

The president followed his man into the town hall’s main meeting room, which they’d turned into the command center for their assault on Bunker Five. Admiral Jeremiah Graves was standing over the map of the area spread on the table. He looked up as Ennis entered, then saluted and came to attention.

“Mr. President,” Graves said.

Ennis returned the salute and joined Graves at the table. “I understand you’re ready to pull out and head back to Norfolk, Admiral.”

“Yes, sir, that’s the plan.”

Ennis noticed some marks on the map and leaned closer. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing to a marker with the letter M stenciled onto it. It was located just outside Pennsylvania’s border.

Graves snorted. “That, sir, is the last known location of our friend Frederick Marnes. It’s what’s left of a small town called Grantsville.”

“Why do you say ‘last known’?”

“We had a couple Hunters keeping tabs on them, just in case, for about a week after they left, and this was the last place they saw ‘em. Went into the town, never came out. Eventually, we pulled our people back.”

“What happened to Marnes and his people?”

“With respect, sir, I absolutely do not give a shit.”

Ennis snorted. “Understood, Admiral.” The president straightened and looked at the sailor. “Are you sure you won’t stay, Admiral? We could really use someone like you to keep our military folks in line. They need a swift kick in the ass from time to time.”

Graves grinned. “That they do, sir, and thank you for the offer, sir. But I need to get back to my men and get the status on our overseas expeditions. If it’s an order, though… Is it an order, sir?”

Ennis considered the admiral for a long moment, weighing his options, but then shook his head. “No, you’re right. We’ll make do just fine here.”

“Very well, sir. I took the liberty of putting together some names for you, sir. It’s short, but I think any of these folks would do well as your new military commander.” He handed the president a piece of paper with some names scribbled down.

Ennis extended a hand, and Graves took it. “I’m proud to have worked with you, son.”

“The honor is mine, sir. If you don’t mind my saying, sir, it’s great to have you back. For what it’s worth, I voted for you the last time too.”

Both men laughed and chatted for a few more minutes as Graves’s men packed up the rest of the room and loaded the bundles into the waiting trucks outside. Nick and the rest of Ennis’s detail scanned the area and pronounced it safe for the president to see Graves and his men off. A good-sized crowd had gathered to say goodbye to the sailors who had saved them, and there were more than a few tears.

Ennis stood there for as long as he could see the trucks that would take the sailors back to their ship, then turned and climbed into the waiting Humvee. It would be a faster ride back to the bunker than it had been the last time he’d taken the trip. At least this time, the reception was going to be much better.

One of his aides turned to him as they began the trip back. “Sir, we have a visitor at the gate. He won’t identify himself except to say that he’s a member of AEGIS and he requests to speak to whoever’s in charge at the bunker.” The aide hesitated.

“What is it?”

“Well, sir, he looks pretty banged up, sir, and he’s got one of those Church brands we were told to look out for. And he came from the east, according to reports. That’s the direction of the Church, sir. Shall we turn him away?”

Ennis shook his head. “No, if he says he’s AEGIS, we’ll give him the benefit of the doubt, as weird as that is. Tell them I want to talk to him in a secure room as soon as I get there.”

“Yes, sir,” the aide said, then turned back to his radio.

The guy was AEGIS but wouldn’t identify himself to other AEGIS personnel? What the hell was going on? It couldn’t be their spy, could it? Ennis looked out the window as he wondered just what fresh hell had come his way.

Operations
Bunker One

Marcus Potter wrapped his hands around the first steaming mug of fresh coffee he’d had in nearly a decade and closed his eyes as he inhaled the aroma. It was one of the first crops to be harvested by Expedition One in Eatonville. The plants had escaped from a local farm and run wild, and now the bounty had finally trickled down to him.

The scent of the coffee whispered to him of green hills and lazy mornings, of newspapers he would read at the breakfast table with his kids laughing in the other room. Of course, all that was gone now, and so were they. Had been for more than twenty years.

“Uh, Captain Potter, sir?” one of the new technicians he’d been training said. When Potter pretended not to hear, savoring his coffee, the young tech spoke again. “Sir?”

Potter sighed and opened his eyes. “No rest for the wicked,” he muttered.

“Sorry, sir, I didn’t catch—”

“Never mind, son. What have you got?”

“Priority message from Bunker Five, sir. Says it’s the president.”

“Why are you still sitting there?” Potter growled, and the tech leapt to his feet as Potter took his place, working the board with a speed that few could match. “AEGIS Actual, Ops, urgent. Respond, AEGIS Actual.”

Kimberly’s response was fast. “AEGIS Actual. Go ahead, Potter.”

“We have a Priority One transmission from the president, ma’am. Request you and the governor in Ops immediately.”

“We’re on our way. Actual out.”

True to her word, his boss and her husband, the governor, were in Ops a minute or two later.

“Clear the room!” Kimberly shouted, and everyone but Potter left. “What’ve we got, Captain?”

“Putting it up now, ma’am.” Potter hit a switch, and one of the larger monitors in Ops sprang to life with an image of the president from his command post at Bunker Five. Potter spoke into the mic. “Mr. President, you’re on, sir.”

“Thank you, Captain,” the president said, then smiled at Kimberly and David. “I have some good news for you. Actually, it’s good for all of us, but I wanted you two to be the first to hear it.” The president took a deep breath before continuing. “They’re gone.”

“Who’s gone, sir?” David asked.

“The Church. They’re finished. Done. Wright is dead.”

“Fuck yeah!” someone shouted, and it took a moment before Potter realized it was himself. He blanched and moved off to the side of the room. He couldn’t leave, because he knew neither of the other two knew how to work the board, but he could make himself as scarce as possible. “Uh, sorry, Mr. President.”

Kimberly and David both laughed, and even the president chuckled. “As you say, Mr. Potter. As you say.”

“Is this confirmed, sir?” Kimberly asked. “Are they really gone? How? When? What about our people?”

“I think I can answer all your questions, General. Let me turn this briefing over to the expert.” The camera swung to the right and stopped on a tall, blond man sitting next to the president. A man Potter couldn’t help but recognize, and he wasn’t surprised at all to hear a gasp from his commander.

Kimberly reached out toward the monitor as if by reflex but stopped herself. “Johnny?” she whispered, and Potter could hear the disbelief and confusion in her voice. “How?”

David stepped closer and put a hand around her waist, and she leaned into him as her brother spoke.

“Wright is dead. The Church is gone. Their headquarters is a smoking hole, along with all their phones and long-distance communication equipment.”

“I don’t… Details, Johnny!” Kimberly said. Her eyes were wide, and a tear slipped down her cheek, but she smiled and held on to David’s hand.

“I’ll tell you the whole story later, but here’s the summary: I arranged to have Mancuso brought to the reverend. Together, we… uh,
convinced
Wright to turn one of his believers 180 degrees, spreading a new gospel of peace and tolerance and not killing infidels. Then, we blew up the building.”

“Where’s Mancuso?”

Johnny glanced down for a moment, then back up. “He didn’t make it. He did his job right to the end. He drew their fire so I could get out. I think he should be remembered that way, as a hero.”

“We’ll see to it. Are you sure you took out their equipment?”

Johnny grinned, and for a moment, Potter could see the much younger man he’d been all those years ago. “Oh, hell yeah. I rigged an EMP to go off before the bomb, just in case. It fried every electronic circuit for half a mile. Since they always kept the phones and whatnot under lock and key at HQ, they were dead before the bomb went off. They’ve lost all hope of communicating nationwide except the long way, and with their new deacon… Well, I’d say the Church isn’t much of a threat anymore.”

“Holy shit, Johnny,” David said, who’d been quiet up ‘til now.

“You said it.”

“But you’re okay?” Kimberly asked.

The camera swung around and zoomed out to cover both men in Bunker Five. “He’s just fine, General. We’ll see that he gets on the first plane back home to you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“We’ll also need to tell the rest of the bunkers, especially Bunker Three, so that Mancuso’s family can be told of his sacrifice.”

Johnny shook his head. “He didn’t have any family, sir.”

The president didn’t hesitate before responding. “He damn sure does now.”

“Agreed,” Kimberly and Blake said together.

“With the church gone, our last major obstacle to reclaiming the surface has vanished too. Which means we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”

“Yes, sir,” Kimberly said. Her tears were gone, and a slight, hopeful smile had replaced them.

It made Potter feel that maybe things were going to turn out all right after all.

Presidential Command Center
Bunker Five

Ennis was beginning to hate this conference room. He’d spent most of his presidency dealing with one emergency after another, and as the thought occurred to him, the memory of his former tenure came back.

Some things never changed, it seemed. At least he wouldn’t have to be doing this much longer. All the usual governors and military folks were present, as was his wife, of course, whom he smiled at again. Not to mention President-elect—sort of—Angela Gates and her husband Daniel.

She’d flown in for her ceremony, which would take place a couple days from now, but he’d wanted to get her up to speed on everything as quick as possible. As it turned out, he hadn’t needed to brief her on very much, and that was yet another sign that he’d made the right choice.

“Right now, our biggest problem is Bunker Nine, obviously,” the president said. “Has the seal held?”

Marcus Simms from Bunker Ten spoke up. “Yes, sir, as near as we can tell. We’ve been swapping out patrol duties with Bunker Eight—thanks for that, Roger—and we’ve seen no sign of any of them escaping.”

Roger Tate agreed. “That’s correct, Mr. President. We don’t believe that any of the creatures have escaped at this time. They did a good job sealing it up.” He paused. “Those men and women deserve recognition, sir. Without them, none of us would be here right now, I’m certain of it.”

“And they’ll have it, Governor. As I see it, we have a couple options, only one of which prompted the rescue of everyone in Bunker Five and the eventual destruction of Bunker Four. Admiral Graves?”

“Thank you, sir,” Graves said and sat forward. “The point of our infiltration and attack on Bunker Five being timed simultaneously with the Bunker Four incursion was to secure the nuclear football and its operating codes. Those codes and control of the football have been transferred to the president. The football is fully accessible to us at this time.”

“What happened to Marnes?” Belkins asked. Ennis noticed Greer turn and glare at him, and the governor held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just asking, Jim!”

Ennis took a deep breath before answering. “Marnes and several of his people decided to opt for exile instead of execution for their crimes against this country. Four of his men chose the latter instead.”

“Exile? How exactly does that work?” Tate asked. “You can’t fly them to Canada or something. Not that Canada exists anymore, but you know what I mean.”

“We gave them each a pack with two weeks’ worth of rations and other survival gear and told them to leave Pennsylvania. Our Hunters tracked them for several days, making sure they actually left. They’re gone.”

Kimberly Blake glowered into the monitor. “Seems like a light sentence to me.”

“We’ve still got walkers here, Colonel,” Ennis said. “And we didn’t give them guns. They’ll either survive or they won’t, but they’ll pay for their sins one way or the other.”

Kimberly didn’t look satisfied, but she didn’t say anything else.

“So we have the football,” Graves continued as he turned to the president. “Now it’s up to you, Mr. President. Only you can launch the missiles and destroy the bunker.”

“I’m assuming we won’t be using nukes?”

“Correct, sir. Conventional warheads only.”

“Then why do we need the football? Why not just launch the missiles manually?”

“For this type of missile, fired from a submarine, sir, your authorization is required. We could get authorization from somewhere higher up our own chain of command, but… well, they don’t exist any longer. You’re it, Mr. President.”

“I see. And where would the missiles be coming from?”

“The
USS Texas
, sir. My submarine. It’s already in position to launch, Mr. President. We just need your codes to access the systems and launch the missiles.”

“And you’re sure this will take care of it?”

“With as much certainty as can be expected, sir. The missiles will impact and cut through the top layer of concrete over the bunker, as they’re designed to do. Using a time-delayed fuse, they will then explode after penetration.”