The Dying of the Light (Book 3): Beginning (60 page)

Presidential Command Center
Bunker Five
Mount Davis, Pennsylvania

The celebration was jubilant as the video came in from Colonel Pope and his men in Mississippi. Ennis had hugged his wife and Marjorie, in that order, and shaken the hands of the other men and women as well. Darnell in particular was interested in the way that Ennis had made the decision, the questions he’d asked, and the leadership role he’d taken.

Ennis had high hopes for the younger man. Darnell was just over forty years old now, and Ennis had long been impressed with the man’s intelligence, warmth, and ability to lead. Many of the townsfolk turned to Darnell for unofficial guidance and help, and he’d taken to involving Darnell in most of his day-to-day activities as president. He hoped Gates would take Darnell on as an aide, or even as vice president, once he was ready. Ennis would endorse the young man to the others, and he knew that that endorsement would hold a great deal of weight.

The monitor showed the video from the Bunker Nine site in the center and the video feeds from the other bunkers ringed around it, including Bunker Three, who had finally figured out their power issues well enough to get their video working.

Ennis whistled, the sound sharp and piercing through the noise and chaos of the room. As it should, since the president had learned it from his wife, a die-hard New Yorker who knew a thing or two about hailing cabs on busy city streets.

Everyone turned back to face him or took their seats, as appropriate, and waited for him to speak.

“This has been a momentous few days,” he said. “We’ve taken out one of the largest threats to our way of life—indeed, to all life on Earth—not just the once, but twice.” The assembly applauded and cheered a bit and then quieted back down as he gestured for silence. “But we’re not done. We’ve had some successes, but there’s still work ahead of us. And the first thing for me to do is to fulfill my promise to you governors and military commanders.”

Ennis turned to one of his technicians. “Is it ready?”

The young man nodded. “Yes, sir. All you have to do is apply your palm print to this scanner and authorize the deactivation verbally.” He held up a small palm scanner.

Ennis placed his palm on the device, which flashed a green light after a moment. “Awaiting command,” a robotic voice said from the scanner’s speaker.

“Initiate complete deactivation of the Wildfire Protocol for all AEGIS facilities.”

“Authorization required.”

“Authorization Renee-One-Five-Eight-Seven-Zulu.” Ennis glanced at his wife, who just rolled her eyes. He’d picked their anniversary date as the numbers for his code—January 5th, 1987. “Initiate complete deactivation of the Wildfire Protocol for all AEGIS facilities.”

“Deactivation processing. Stand by.” There was an uncomfortable pause, and then Governor Ridgely spoke up from Bunker Seven as an aide handed him a note.

“Sir, we’ve had confirmation here. The system is processing the deactivation now. It appears to be a self-removing protocol that can’t be reactivated. Our guys say they’re watching it erase itself from our main code. Impressive stuff, sir.”

“Same here, sir,” David Blake said, and the others followed suit.

“Deactivation complete.” The device went dark, and Ennis lowered his hand.

“Thank you, Mr. President,” the technician said and left the room, closing the door behind him.

“Well, now that’s done,” Ennis said and took his seat once more. He looked around at the people in the room and at the monitors on the wall. “Our next step is for me to formally hand over power to President-elect Gates. Has there been any chatter about this decision?”

The governors shook their heads, and Marcus Simms spoke up. “Sir, even here, as far from Bunker One as you can get, they know about the president-elect. The videos are helping as well, and the only thing we’ve heard is that people are excited that one of their own—meaning someone from a bunker—is going to be leading the charge to retake the surface. They’re all behind us one hundred percent, at least for now.”

“Good. We’ll hold elections in a couple years, when the time is right. Okay with you, Mrs. Gates?”

Gates nodded. “Yes, Mr. President.”

“Good, then we’ll have that ceremony in a few days. Do it outside, somewhere nice. Film it, put it in the bunkers, the whole shebang. Mr. Taylor, can you handle that?”

Daniel Taylor nodded as well. “Yes, Mr. President. I’ll take care of it.”

“Good, good.” Ennis looked around the room. “What’s next?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Z-Day + 24 years

Governor’s Quarters
Bunker One

Eden put down her fork and sighed. It was the first real meal she’d eaten in weeks, and she’d stuffed herself full. Her parents had really gone all out tonight, even opening a bottle of their hoarded wine collection. She sat back against the chair and covered a slight burp with her hand, laughing. Her cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing so much that evening as they’d caught up.

“Really?” she asked. “In the motor pool?”

“Oh yeah, on the hood of one of the Humvees,” her mom said with a laugh while her father just shook his head and grinned. “We’ve given him shit about it for weeks. Fernandez got a reprimand, but he’s been the talk of the base, apparently.”

“I would never have expected…” Eden said. Her brother had apparently grown up considerably in the last few weeks.

Her mom reached across the table and held her hand for a moment. “He’s not the only one who’s changed.”

Eden blushed and looked down at her lap, then picked up her wine to take another sip.

“You’ve really grown up, Eden,” her father said, and she could see the pride in his eyes and hear it in his voice. “I wish it hadn’t come at so high a price, but you’ve turned a corner. Well done.”

The laughter faded as they all thought of the friends and loved ones they’d lost over the last year and in the years before. Her father was the first to speak again.

“Well, count on me to kill the mood,” he said with a chuckle. “Good grief.”

Kimberly rolled her eyes and looked over at Eden. “So, are you all caught up? What are your plans?”

Eden nodded. “I heard something about the Driebach bunker, Nine, but it was bits and pieces here and there. What happened?”

Kim sat back, her face grave for a moment, then the frown faded. “We haven’t made an official announcement yet, but it’s been destroyed. We used the Wildfire Protocol remotely. We’re waiting for an address from the president about it once all the refugees have been dealt with and things have settled down a bit.”

“We can’t wait too long or the rumors—” Her father spoke up, and it sounded like this was a discussion they’d had before, since her mother interrupted.

“I know, I know. We’ve both told the president. What do you want me to do?” Kimberly asked.

“Wildfire? That’s the same thing as… It’s what…” Eden couldn’t finish the words.

“As Frank used in Bunker Four, yes. None of us knew that it could be activated remotely, though. The president kept that close to the vest, apparently.”

“So he could just blow us up at any time?” Eden asked, shocked. She started to stand up, but Kimberly put a hand on her arm and she settled back down.

“It’s been permanently deactivated. It can’t happen anymore. We made sure of that.”

“But if that’s true, then why not just blow Bunker Four remotely? Why risk the sold—” She interrupted herself as the truth hit her. “Oh, right, the civilians.”

“Exactly. Someone had to get them out, to rescue them. Otherwise, it would’ve been easy.”

“So, what, he just forgot about this years ago when they discovered Nine had been compromised?”

Her dad spoke this time. “Actually, he forgot
everything
. For more than twenty years.” When Eden looked confused, he continued. “His chopper went down on Z-Day, and he got amnesia. Forgot who he was, all of it. It’s a miracle he survived. The only other person who knew was the first lady, and who could she tell? Marnes? Thank God she didn’t say anything.”

Eden agreed. There could hardly have been a worse person to give that knowledge to, except maybe Dagger. “Well, at least it’s over with. Marnes is gone, probably dead now, Dagger’s
definitely
dead, the president’s back, we’re going to have a new one, and the Driebachs have been dealt with. We can start rebuilding now with nothing hanging over our heads.”

“And what the hell will
that
be like?” her father asked, eliciting a laugh from the others.

“Peace,” Eden said. “Finally. I’m looking forward to finding out.”

Madam Marjorie’s Odds & Ends
New Salisbury, Pennsylvania

The candles were still lit, even though it was bright daylight outside. The shop looked better than it had the last time he’d seen it, though. Ennis could see that the new construction and repairs to the original building that he’d ordered had been finished, and he smiled.

Marjorie had refused to accept his offer to rebuild the place from the ground up, and the most he’d been able to talk her into were repairs and a new addition for a real bedroom and bathroom. He’d tweaked the design a bit to Darnell’s specifications, because the young man cared about his mama a great deal, but overall, he’d left it up to his people to handle.

His people. It still felt odd to say something like that after being just “Harvard” for twenty years.

“Found it!” Marjorie yelled from her newish kitchen, and he heard her laugh as she returned to the living room with a tray. Her old cracked and patched teapot sat on top of it, and he could smell the Earl Grey from where he sat. His favorite, as she knew. He smiled.

“They moved it?” he asked. He picked up the pot and poured for both of them.

“They moved
everything
!” she said, pretending to be upset. “And who needs a drawer just for trays? Wastefulness!”

Ennis had known the woman for long enough. She loved everything about her renovated home, but she wasn’t about to let
him
know that. And she knew that he knew and so on and so forth. It was a delicate game, but a simple one, comparatively.

“But you didn’t come here to ask me about the house, did you?” Marjorie said, looking at him over the rim of her cup.

It still amazed him, even after all these years, that as blind as she was, she needed almost no help getting around and doing for herself, as long as she was familiar with the surroundings. It was no wonder she was griping about stuff being moved. After all, the sightless depended on consistency to remember where everything was and how to use it. Still, he had faith that she would be fine, and clearly, so did she.

Ennis chuckled at her question. She always saw through to the root of the matter. “No, ma’am, I did not.”

“Out with it, then! We’ve all got things to do today. Some of us more than others.”

Ennis wasn’t sure if she was talking about his duties as president or her own activities, but it didn’t matter. “I’ve come to ask you again to work with the new president,” he said, though he expected the same answer as he’d received the previous times he’d asked. “She could use your wisdom by her side.”

Marjorie smiled and set down her cup, then leaned forward and held out her hands. Ennis set down his own cup and took them. Marjorie gave him a squeeze and another smile, then answered him.

“For the last time, no, Ennis. I live
here
. I’m needed
here
. You’re welcome to come by for tea and a chat, but this is my home, and I’m not leaving.”

He’d known her for a long time and knew her well enough to know that this was her final word on the subject. Still, he’d had to try.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a smile.

New Atlantic Fleet HQ
Naval Station Norfolk
Norfolk, Virginia

Sunshine streamed in the windows of Captain Jackson O’Reilly’s office, and he paused to take in the view. At the southern end of Chesapeake Bay, where it joined the James River, the waters were a deep cobalt blue. He would love to be out there fishing on his boat, but he hadn’t finished restoring it yet. He glanced to his left and looked at the long row of slips where new construction and restorations were going on side-by-side. They couldn’t yet replicate the speed or size of the ships that had come here before Z-Day, but they were working on it.

Jackson still found it odd yet pleasing to see the renovated tall ships next to the more modern behemoths that they were attempting to resurrect. The wooden ships were easier to restore, but he hoped before long that they’d get back into the swing of things and see the other ships slide out on their missions too.

“Enjoying the view, Captain?” a voice asked from behind him, and Jack smiled but didn’t turn.

“Best office in the building, sir,” he replied and heard the expected chuckle in return.

“Except for mine, of course,” Graves said as he walked up beside his old friend. “But then, you actually get to get out there. I’m only allowed on my boat once in a blue moon.”

“You know how important the
Texas
is as well as I do, sir. And, of course, how important your work is here. Can’t have you gallivanting off all willy-nilly, sir.”

Graves sighed. “I’m beginning to wonder if I should’ve taken the president—excuse me,
former
president—up on his offer. At least then I wouldn’t be riding a desk.”

“So far inland, sir?” Jack shook his head. “Not bloody likely.”

“Fair enough, Captain. Fair enough.”

They stood for another long moment, both savoring the view and admiring the results of the work they and their men had put their hearts and souls into. Norfolk had been mostly cleared by this point and was growing as more and more refugees were found by their patrols and more volunteers signed up for service.

Graves was the first to break the silence.

“She’s ready, Jack,” he said, not turning from the window. “You leave tomorrow.”