Brushfire Plague Read online

  Just beyond that, they drove past several streets where almost every other house had been burned to the ground. The detritus of ruined households was strewn about the street and lawns: clothing, broken furniture, smashed dishes, and…dead bodies. The dead has been that way for more than a day and the flies flew thick around them. After a few pensive moments of observation, the shotgun clasped firmly, Cooper saw that the men had been killed execution style. There were bullet wounds to the head, from close range. Worse, the women’s bodies were in various stages of undress, clothing torn, and usually bloody. He grimaced in disgust when he saw how young some of them were.

  “I guess we know why the other neighborhood has their barricades up,” Dranko said, shaking his head.

  “Yeah. I wonder who did this. I’m guessing amateurs riled up on drugs or drink. A professional gang would be focused on getting money and goods right now; not random stuff like this,” Cooper conjectured in response.

  “You’re probably right. I just wish someone would cover these bodies up.”

  The wheels of the truck crunched broken glass as they wove their way around obstacles in the road.

  As they neared the area where Julianne lived, both men saw something that made them exhale in shock. Dranko’s came out as a low whistle.

  A police car, with two officers, was driving towards them.

  Neither had seen any police in over a week. Cooper let the shotgun rest on the floorboard so that he could ensure his hands remained in a casual position.

  “Must be nice to live in such a high-class part of town?” Dranko quipped.

  “You know what they say, the last place you’ll still find the police in bad times and the tax collector in good times is where the rich folk live.”

  Dranko looked at him quizzically, “Who’s the they? I’ve never heard that before.”

  “My father,” Cooper said as both men laughed.

  Their faces turned serious and they looked straight ahead as the police cruiser drove past them. They could feel their eyes dressing them down. Thankfully, the car kept going.

  Cooper instructed Dranko to park a half block away from Julianne’s house. He stuffed the shotgun under the seat and they locked the doors. The street was deserted, quiet. It looked like it probably had before the plague had struck. Cars were still parked neatly in driveways and along the street. Windows and doors were all intact and closed. Halfway down the street, a neatly stenciled wooden sign beseeching, “God Forgive Us!” was the only evidence that something was amiss in the world.

  As they approached the home, he had Dranko remain out of sight. If Julianne was home, he figured it would be smoother that way. She lived in an ornate Victorian home. The outside walls came alive with a deep chocolate trim, silver-painted scallops, and red accents. Leaded glass windows with a chevron motif and a wraparound porch completed the idyllic view.

  Cooper climbed the stairs and rang the doorbell. He waited. Then, he rapped on the door and heard the sounds reverberate throughout the home. He did so a second time before whistling for Dranko to come forward.

  The two men didn’t exchange a word as Cooper backed away from the door and did his best to nonchalantly shield Dranko from any passerby’s view. Dranko immediately went to work with his lock pick tools and had the door open in less than a minute. They stepped inside. The wood floors shined, conveying warmth and security. A skinny rug ran the length of the hallway and led away from the door to a large foyer. The hallway and foyer were sparsely furnished. The furniture screamed “eco-friendly” at them; made from recycled and natural materials. Art decorated the walls, depicting the natural world in all of its splendor. Opposite the front door, an impressive painting of a white birch forest with a majestic buck commanding the scene, dominated the wall with its size and grace. Scattered on the other walls were paintings depicting sea turtles, an eagle, wildflower fields, waterfalls, and other animals. Muted light shone in through a phalanx of windows on the south wall.

  “Feels like a shrine, don’t it,” Dranko whispered in awe. Cooper nodded slowly.

  As previously agreed, Dranko stayed at the door, just inside, as a lookout. Cooper would do the searching. He found the den on the first floor and headed there first.

  ******

  The den had two stout oak doors that opened inward. Cooper almost bumped into the door when he tried to open it and, unexpectedly, he discovered it was locked. He whistled for Dranko and indicated the locked door. As Dranko came over to work on it, Cooper replaced him at the front door post. Seconds ticked by, without event outside. Cooper saw one vehicle drive by, a large SUV loaded up with a family and what must have been all of their worldly possessions. Getting out of dodge, eh? Cooper didn’t think they’d make it very far. Their overloaded vehicle was just begging for the attention of every petty criminal out there. Candy store on wheels.

  Dranko clucked his lips to get Cooper’s attention. He turned and saw that the door was open. As they passed each other once again, Dranko whispered, “Complex lock on that bad boy.” Cooper nodded, his anticipation growing. He took a deep breath before stepping into the room.

  Two of the four walls were lined with nine foot tall bookcases. A quick scan revealed a myriad of books on philosophy, history, politics, environmental sciences, physics, and current events. Curiously, he saw only one shelf that contained works of fiction. With such an extensive library, he would have expected at least a few shelves dedicated to fiction. Of those, they were all of the classical variety, the likes of Shakespeare, Chekhov, and Dickens. An avid reader himself, when he had the time, he was immediately impressed with the size and scope of Julianne’s collection.

  The wall opposite the door contained a large leaded glass window, half of which was a beautiful stained glass picture depicting Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders. This portion rose so high, it would have prevented easy inspection of this room from the outside. The top of the window allowed bright sunlight into the room which, when combined with the colors from the stained glass, bestowed a sacred aura to the room.

  However, it was the wall immediately to his left which proved the most intriguing. Half of the wall was blanketed by a large whiteboard. Writings and diagrams were festooned across it. The other half of the wall was a confused mélange of magazine and newspaper articles. Cooper was stunned by the blizzard of information before him. He blankly ambled over to the solid oak desk that dominated the middle of the room. He leaned against it so that he could digest the wall’s contents.

  He quickly ascertained that the focus for the display was environmental degradation. Headlines blaring about pollution, toxins, oil spills, and acid rain were scattered about. However, the most common were articles, pictures, and headlines focused on global warming and its effects. One blazoned phrase in the middle of the whiteboard was, “Global Warming = Climate Chaos.” Right next to that clarion call, a much smaller phrase in red ink required him to take two steps forward to read it. “Worst marketing failure ever. They needed to call it based upon what it would make happen. Stupid scientists!” Cooper cocked his head when he realized that the handwriting looked like it’d been written by a man.

  A map of the United States looked familiar to Cooper. That’s right, it’s the one from Al Gore’s movie that shows sea level rise. But, this one looked different; a lot different. A moment later he realized it, “Wow, there’s a lot more land underwater,” he whispered to himself in surprise. Some coastal cities had completely disappeared in this edition. And, the flooding extended much further inland than he recalled. Next to the map of America, were maps of Europe and Asia. These showed many cities there underwater, as well.

  The magazine and newspaper articles were a contrasting mixture of dire scientific warnings about the coming catastrophe of global warming, news reports of failed efforts by the global community to take action to limit climate change, and analyses by economists on the economic impacts. One report from the UK declared “Global Warming Akin to Great Depression” was written by someo
ne named Sir Nicholas Stern. Another that stood out proclaimed, “Rate of Warming Greatly Exceeding Most Aggressive Modeling.” Julianne had written notes in blue on most of the articles, circling a phrase or posing a question.

  Cooper was hypnotized by the information. Ten minutes passed before he realized how long he had been doing so. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He had no doubt that Dranko must be growing impatient. The hodgepodge of information revealed three broad themes: the environment’s ability to sustain life was in deep jeopardy, the threat of climate change as catastrophic, and that people weren’t doing much about either. Cooper was deeply interested in the material, but deeply upset that he found nothing that told him about the plague sweeping the country and threatening his son.

  He moved rapidly to the desk and rifled the contents of the desk drawers. He found a random collection of papers, bills, clipped articles, and the other items you’d expect to find on a desk. She had an old-fashioned large desk calendar, which was largely unused. However, there was a post-it note written in bold red letters: “Project Reset Meeting.” It was stuck on a day just one week prior to the outbreak. The post-it had the company logo of Admonitus written across the bottom. Written in hard to decipher black ink underneath the big red lettering was a room and a location. The meeting had been held at the Admonitus headquarters.

  He spent the next five minutes quickly combing the room for anything else of interest and then ten more after that sweeping through the rest of the house, which all proved fruitless.

  When he finally made it back to the front door, Dranko was as jumpy as a cat on a hot griddle. “Find anything?”

  “Not as much as I wanted. But, we need to find out about something called ‘Project Reset’.”

  “How are we doing that?”

  “We need to go to Admonitus’ headquarters. I don’t have time to waste,” Cooper said intently.

  Dranko grinned, “I thought we’d end up there before the day was out. That was why I brought these along,” he said, tapping his twin .45s affectionately.

  What they saw when they turned to leave left both of them breathless.

  ******

  Julianne Wheeler had just rounded the low stone wall that lined her front yard and was stumbling toward the house. A bright red seam had been opened across her forehead and blood dripped down, covering half of her face. Her left arm hung limply at her side, a gash almost half a foot long was outlined in crimson. Bruises had already welled up on her other arm and on her chin. Her ragged gait was matched by her trance-like gaze that was fixed on the ground directly in front of her. She hadn’t looked up, as she lumbered toward them.

  The two men exchanged a quick look of surprise and then went into action. Cooper ran outside to help her.

  His movement broke Julianne’s trance. She jerked back, raising her hands in a pitiful defense as the rank look of terror filled her face.

  He slowed his movement and held his own hands up, palms forward, “It’s OK, Julianne. It’s me, Cooper. Remember? I’m here to help you.”

  She wavered, trying to process what he was saying. He continued, “You need help, Julianne. Let me help you.” He did his best to offer a comforting smile.

  Then, he was upon her and she collapsed into his arms.

  ******

  A half hour later she regained consciousness. They had propped her up on the couch and covered her in warm blankets. Her wounds had been dressed and fortunately, neither of the gashes required stitches.

  Cooper was seated next to her on an oaken chair that he had pulled up next to her.

  She blinked up at him and whispered weakly, “Wh…what happened?”

  Cooper smiled down at her, “We were hoping you could tell us. You just stumbled here.”

  Her eyebrows scrunched together as memory returned. Her eyes filled with tears. “I was attacked. For a bag of canned goods. A brick or a rock to the head and a knife to my arm.” The tears now ran freely down her face.

  Cooper touched her arm in sympathy, “I’m sorry.” She continued weeping.

  “This was supposed to be clean, quick. Not like this. Not like this, at all,” she muttered between sobs.

  “What wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Cooper asked.

  Abruptly, she sat up. “Oh, never mind. It’s too late now. What were you doing here anyway?”

  “I wanted to learn more about what happened at Admonitus.”

  She shocked him by bolting to a standing position, wobbling unsteadily on her feet in doing so, “You have to leave. You have to leave now.” She stammered, anger mixed with near panic.

  Cooper stood up and offered his hands up in a defensive position, “Calm down, Julianne. I just have a couple of questions.”

  Her face flushed, red replacing the pale look she had worn just moments before. “You’ve just got to go. Now. It’s all too late to talk about,” she screamed hysterically.

  He was stunned and yammered, “My God! Calm down. I just want to help you!”

  She shook her head back and forth ferociously, her hair swinging in a wide arc despite the grime and blood that had dried in it, “No, no, no! I’m beyond help, don’t you get it,” she pleaded. “With what I’ve done, we’re all beyond help now!” With that, she slumped back into the sofa, clasped her face in her hands and sobbed uncontrollably.

  Cooper backed away and shot a glance at Dranko who had been standing sentry-like at the front door. He shrugged his shoulders in response.

  Cooper remained for a few moments debating what to do next. He was torn between deep sympathy for her, confusion, and raging anger for the mysteries she presented without any solution. Finally, resigned, he spoke to her, “OK. We’ll leave. But, here is my number, call me if you need anything.” He hastily scribbled his number on a Post-It note that lay on her entry table.

  Julianne flapped her hands about her, as if waving off pesky gnats at a mid-summer picnic, “Go. Please go,” was all that she said.

  Cooper left bewildered, dumbstruck by what he had just witnessed.

  Once outside, Dranko offered a one word explanation, “Shock.”

  Cooper found it lacking. His curiosity about what had been going on at Admonitus was rising rapidly. When he reached the car, he tried home on his cell phone. Thankfully, the call went through. The report, however, was haunting: fever rising.

  Chapter 24

  As Dranko drove west towards the city’s high tech corridor, Cooper fiddled with his pistol. As he inserted and removed the magazine, repeatedly, he knew he was burning off nervous energy as much as anything else. His mind kept turning what little he knew over and over in his head. His stomach churned as he considered the notion that these people had known about the plague before it had started.

  If the people at Admonitus knew about this before it started, it was damning. Why hadn’t they warned anyone? Cooper clenched his fists and gritted his teeth as he considered the deaths that could have been prevented with just a little foreknowledge. Elena. He racked the slide on his pistol, chambering a round.

  “How much further?”

  “Just about five more minutes, brother,” Dranko responded. “What’s the plan when we get there?”

  Cooper returned a twisted grin, “Simple. We’re gonna find someone in charge and make them talk. I want to know just what the hell is going on.”

  ******

  Cooper had Dranko drive past the Admonitus facility so that he could do a little reconnaissance. It was a nondescript, low-slung cluster of one story buildings that looked similar to any other office park spread out across America, but particularly popular in areas with high-tech companies. Gentle, rolling, lawns created a campus-like setting with benches and picnic tables scattered about. The buildings were made of gray concrete, with large banks of windows covering a good portion of the walls. The windows were darkly tinted so it was impossible to see inside the buildings.

  The parking lot was almost completely deserted. Notably, a large black Mercedes sedan occupied a p
arking spot up front, underneath a large sign that declared “President’s Parking, Only.”

  “You see that? Luck could be on our side,” Cooper remarked, gesturing to Dranko.

  “Or just his fortune ran out and he’s lying dead somewhere else,” he responded sardonically.

  Cooper just shook his head at his friend’s pessimism, “Remind me not to let you buy my lottery tickets next time.”

  Dranko winked, “That assumes there will be another lottery, my eternally hopeful friend.”

  Cooper shrugged dismissively and returned to surveying Admonitus’ headquarters. Only a few other cars were scattered about the facility’s parking lot. A white security guard pickup drove in a wide arc around the parking lot. It appeared to be circling the campus in a lazy, random pattern.

  There was no other traffic on the road, so the guard could not have helped but notice their pickup. Dranko did his best to accelerate imperceptibly and continue past their entrance.

  As they stopped, a quarter mile down the road, Dranko leaned onto the steering wheel and turned towards Cooper, “What’s the plan, boss?”

  “A bum rush. We park where we can watch that security pickup. Once it passes the front entrance and rounds the corner, we go in fast and tight. We try to find someone in charge and demand some answers. I don’t see another way. There’s no way to blend in and infiltrate because there’s no one else out here!”

  Dranko nodded his head slowly, reasoning to the same conclusion.

  They performed one last weapons check and then Dranko drifted the pickup behind a bank of bushes where Cooper could see the front of the Admonitus headquarters. They timed one full circuit of the security truck. It took about ten minutes to make the route around the dispersed cluster of buildings and parking lots.