Eradication: Project Apex book II Read online

  ERADICATION:

  PROJECT APEX BOOK II

  Michael Bray

  Copyright © 2016 Michael Bray

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  WWW.MICHAELBRAYAUTHOR.COM

  “We are a plague on the Earth.”

  - David Attenborough

  “Hence the end of the world should be awaited with all longing by all believers.”

  - William Ames

  “Life could do nothing for her, beyond giving time for a better preparation for death.”

  ― Jane Austen

  CHAPTER ONE

  AIR FORCE ONE CRASH SITE

  WEST VIRGINIA

  WASHINGTON DC, USA

  It was Armageddon. At no point in the history of mankind had simultaneous coordinated attacks caused such destruction. The death of the President was incidental to the devastating news of the nuclear strikes. As word of the unthinkable events filtered through to news agencies and media outlets, there was doubt about their validity. Many of the reports were too awful to comprehend, let alone believe possible. Soon enough, the truth filtered through and induced a global sense of fear. Tokyo had been reduced to dust along with many of its near thirteen million residents, the sun blocked out by thick black clouds of ash and pulverised concrete, which hung in the air and reduced visibility to nothing. In Paris, the devastation was just as effective. Fires devoured the city as those outside the blast radius descended into a confused panic, unable to comprehend that their city had been attacked or what they should do to stay safe. Many hunkered down and waited for the government to intervene and tell them what to do, unaware that there was no government, the nation left in tatters, its leadership wiped out in one blow. The final bomb landed in Berlin where more than half a million people had their existence ended in the centre of the near half mile blast zone, a flash of white light followed by the searing heat the only awareness they had before their lives were extinguished. It was the single most devastating coordinated attack on humanity in history, a cataclysmic event which would never be forgotten. All over the world, people huddled around television screens, frightened and wondering if they were next. Others tried to hide. Vacating to basements with their families and waiting for that flash of light which would signal their deaths.

  The fear became desperation, and society imploded with little resistance. Citizens of major cities the world over fell into panic and asked questions of their governments and world leaders, people who they believed were in control and had the answers. This situation, however, was much bigger than elections or war and it soon became apparent that no answers were coming, for the leaders of the world themselves were in disarray, each country a melting pot of chaos as old tensions were forgotten for the greater good of trying to find and share information about what was happening in the world. The countries bordering those hit by the nuclear bombs were put on high alert to receive those who were evacuating the affected cities in their thousands as medical care and temporary accommodation was requested. Despite drills and scenarios practised in the event of such a disaster the world was unprepared for what was happening. Even those living outside the disaster zones were affected. Ruptured gas lines caused thousands of individual fires across hundreds of miles, burning through homes and offices, stores and warehouses. Power grids were destroyed and left hundreds of thousands without precious electricity, dealing another hammer blow to the civilised world. In Washington, the wreckage of Air Force One burned, sending thick, black smoke rolling into the air from its scattered remains. Four buildings around the impact site were in flames, the streets littered with debris. Seats had been thrown through shop windows and still contained the blackened remains of passengers. An enormous engine had embedded itself into the side of a glass-fronted office building, the shattered lobby now a billion tiny mirrors reflecting the flames. A section of undercarriage had obliterated a red pickup truck which was side on in the middle of the street, its suspension broken, its driver crushed inside the cab, his face mangled against the steering wheel. Worse still were the bodies.

  Charred husks of meat were strewn over the debris field, the force of the crash tearing them to pieces. Even that paled in comparison to the pieces which had been thrown far enough from the heat of the flames to still be recognisable. A chewed up hand still wearing a wedding ring. A foot, the shoe still tied, the brown leather still polished. Police and fire crews arrived on the scene, trying to quell the flames with arcing jets of water. There was no search for survivors. It was clear they had attended a mission of recovery rather than rescue. As the fire crews attempted to control the blaze and keep the watching crowds back, men clad in expensive suits and dark sunglasses arrived in SUV's with opaque windows. Flashing their government identification, they pushed to the front of the crowd and right into the inner circle where the firefighters battled to control the blaze.

  "You need to get out of here," The fire chief said, shouting above the roar of fire and symphony of sirens. He was a thin man with a salty moustache and regarded the new arrivals with barely hidden contempt.

  "Special Agent Jones," the man barked back, snapping open his identification. "We're here to contain the scene and recover the president's body."

  "There's nothing to recover," The fire chief shot back, locking eyes with the agent. "So far all we found are pieces of people."

  Jones shifted, digesting the information. "But you don’t know for sure, Air Force One wasn’t just a regular aircraft, it had an armoured fuselage and-"

  "Pal, just take a look for yourself," the chief said, flicking an exasperated arm towards the burning, twisted wreckage. "We're not looking for survivors. I've been in this game a long time. As much as I hate to say it, if the president was on board, then he’s gone."

  Jones didn’t react, at first, he stared at the fire chief and then looked at the wreckage. People behind the taped-off area heard this exchange and reported back to friends. Posts were made on social media, news outlets were alerted. Like a wave, word spread, and the public perception of events took a very noticeable shift. People were no longer viewing things as something going on elsewhere in the world. Like a slow growing cancer, the fear spread. The people understood that the streets were no longer a safe place. As the crowds disbursed, Jones turned to his men, who waited at his back.

  “Someone get me the Vice President on the line. I need to speak with him.”

  Jones strode back towards the crowd, which was thinning as people made their way to what they hoped was safety. The fire chief watched Jones go, then with a shake of the head, went back to his job. Like the rest of his men, he was afraid and wasn’t sure what was going to happen next.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Draven, Kate & Herman

  McNair Road, Virginia,

  USA

  They had seen the plane go down from Kate’s car, which was stuck in the endless snake of unmoving traffic which glittered and shimmered under the gaze of the early afternoon sun. They were too far away to identify the markings of the presidential jet and assumed it was a commercial plane. As he watched the smoke roll into the sky in the distance, Draven realised he was holding his breath and let it out in a long, slow exhalation.

  "That was done on purpose," he said, glancing at Kate.

  "Hijack?"

  "Maybe," Draven said. "People are going crazy enough as is without terrorists to contend with. They’re scared."

  "I'm scared."

  Draven looked at Kate and wondered why he couldn
’t see it before. Behind the determination, he could see the disbelief.

  "The sooner we get to the Pentagon, the better," he said, finding it was the best he could do under the circumstances. He glanced at Herman in the back seat, who was frowning, white earphones plugged in, phone clutched in his hand. Herman caught Draven watching, and blinked as if waking from a particularly vivid dream.

  "You okay?" Draven said.

  Herman pulled out one of his earpieces and looked at both Kate and Draven. "Turn on the radio," he said.

  "What station?"

  "Any," Herman replied.

  Kate flicked on the radio and turned up the volume. They sat in silence, listening to the news coming in from all over the world about the nuclear attacks. It was then, as the three of them sat in the sun-baked car that something changed. A shift in the atmosphere. Draven tried to think of a word to describe it and found his vocabulary didn't contain one. Fear was too weak, as were horror, terror, and disbelief. For the first time since he had been picked up in Mexico, Draven questioned how safe his family was. He took his phone out of his pocket, went to the phone book and dialled the number for Leanne. The number didn’t connect. He tried again with the same result.

  Kate looked at him across the seat. “Everything alright?”

  “I can’t reach my family. I want to tell them to get somewhere safe.”

  “Your family? I thought you didn’t have any. You said you were unmarried”

  “I’m divorced. I thought this thing was isolated here, but it seems like I was wrong. Now I want to get in touch and tell her to get somewhere safe.”

  Kate handed him her phone. “Here, try mine.”

  Draven held one phone in each hand, transferring the number from his handset to Kate’s then alternatively trying to dial through on each. “No answer. I can’t even get a connection.”

  “Networks are probably down. Try not to panic.” Kate said.

  “I should have contacted them before. Why the hell didn’t I tell them to get to safety sooner?”

  “You can’t beat yourself up over this. Things have been crazy.”

  “That’s not the point. I still should have made contact. My kids…..” he trailed off, his brain throwing up every awful scenario imaginable.

  “How many children do you have?” Kate asked.

  “Two. Here, let me show you.” He took his wallet out of his jeans and opened it. Inside the plastic window in the front was a photograph of two children, both smiling and bearing an eerie resemblance to Draven. He turned it towards Kate so she could see. “The boy there, he’s Ethan. He just turned seven a couple of months ago.”

  “Cute kid,” Kate said.

  Draven nodded. “And that’s my daughter, Imogen. She’s eleven now. Damn, they grow up so fast.” He frowned and snapped the wallet closed, then tried the phones again.

  “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” Kate said.

  “Well, Leanne and I were young when we met. A little too young to marry and start a family, both of which we did against the advice of our families. We were young and impulsive. We didn’t know what love was, never mind if we were in it. For a while things were great. When Imogen came along she was a distraction away from our own problems that had started to take over our lives. See my job meant I had to be away travelling. The hours were long and because I wanted a future for the family, I didn’t turn down any overtime. I guess she got lonely and started to resent me. I don’t blame her now, I can see why she would do that. At the time, though, my reaction was to hate her back. We were close to getting divorced when we found out she was pregnant with Ethan. We hoped it would be enough to fix things, but if anything it made it worse. With one child and another on the way, I had to work even harder and she felt more alone and isolated. We split when Ethan was three. The divorce was finalised a few months later.”

  “Do you still speak?”

  Draven shook his head. “The divorce was hard on all of us. She moved away to a little town on the English coast. I came over here, hoping the distance would help.”

  “So when do you see your children?”

  Draven couldn’t look at her when he replied. He was too embarrassed. “I don’t. I speak to them on the phone when I can and send them presents for Christmas and their birthday, but I don’t physically see much of them. I’m not proud of it, but its easier this way.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too. Now all I care about is getting in contact with them and making sure they get somewhere safe.”

  “When we get to the Pentagon, I’ll get someone to make contact. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure they are safe.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

  “We need to be getting a move on, though. We don’t seem to be making any progress.”

  “No, I noticed that. Hang on.” He wound down the window and stuck his head out, enabling him to see further down the long snake of cars. He could see the reason for their lack of progress. Many of the vehicles had been abandoned, doors left ajar, belongings forgotten. People walked alone or stood and talked in groups by the side of the road, faces pale, eyes wide, mouths open as they wandered in a daze and discussed the unbelievable news. Draven wondered how many would survive, how many of these strangers who walked past the car like ghoulish spectres thrust into the harsh light of day would get to see their families again in a world which was rapidly unravelling around them. It was a sobering thought and one which made him aware that they needed to take action.

  "We can’t stay here," Draven heard himself say from some distant place as he pulled his head back into the car. “This line of traffic is going nowhere.”

  “Then we go on foot. It's only a couple of miles and we can cut through Arlington cemetery and go cross country."

  "Alright, let’s get moving. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get in touch with my family."

  Kate grabbed his arm, and this time, there was no mistake. She was afraid. “Do you think any more nukes will be launched?” He wished he could have told her a lie if only to put her mind at ease, but the truth was he didn’t have it in him. “I don’t know. This is a game changer.”

  “You’re telling me. I never expected it would get this bad.”

  “None of us did. This is a bold move.” Draven said, watching as a mother and young child walked past the car towards a future that was uncertain.

  "Alright then, let’s get to it," Kate replied, climbing out of the car. Draven and Herman joined her, leaving the car behind with the others as they set out on foot. Draven realised he hadn’t appreciated how gridlocked the traffic was. It stretched in both directions as far as he could see. They veered off McNair Road and walked towards the tree line of the woodland which bordered Arlington Cemetery. "Do you think that’s the end of it?" Kate asked.

  Draven looked at her as they walked, unsure if she was aware she had just asked an almost identical question. He suspected she was in shock and couldn’t blame her. He was struggling too. He took a second glance, taking the time to take in the details. Her profile was cast in gold by the sun. He ticked off the plus points in his mind. Strong jaw, good cheekbones. Wonderful deep eyes which he was sure would look spectacular if not for the fear inside them. It occurred to him that under less horrific circumstances, he could be attracted to her. "The end of what?" he asked, deciding not to remind her that they had already had this conversation.

  "The nukes.”

  "Best if we don’t think too much about that. We need to deal with the here and now. If it helps, I think we at least should be safe here. In fact, I think we're in the safest place to be right now. It stands to reason that Joshua wouldn’t want to launch anything so devastating quite so close to home. Try to relax a little"

  "It's not him I’m worried about, it’s the retaliation that might come from other countries in the confusion," she muttered.

  Draven hadn’t even considered a retaliatory attack, and a chill brushed down his spine despite the warmth of the
day as he saw snapshots of in his mind of awful scenarios involving his children. "Do you think that's a possibility? Especially with everything that's happened?"

  "I'd like to think not," Kate replied. "I just worry that some of the other countries who have been looking for a reason to go to war with us might see this as a valid reason to attack."

  "Oh, man," Herman muttered, one earphone still wedged in place. "It's just been on the radio. The President’s dead."

  "What?" Kate and Draven said in unison.

  "It's just been confirmed. That plane we saw go down was Air Force One. No survivors. This is fucked up, man." He was agitated and scratched his cheek.

  “One of them was on the plane,” Draven said.

  “One of who?”

  “Joshua’s men. You saw how it crashed. Nose down. Aimed deliberately. It has to be related.”

  “I’m not disagreeing with you. I just don’t understand.” None of them did, and so they walked without speaking for a while, finally getting some relief from the heat of the day by passing into the shadow of the trees and the woods beyond. Like a wall, a dense silence fell around them as the sounds of the city were muted.

  "I don’t understand," Kate said as they made their way through the trees. "Why would they do this? Why go so far to cause so much destruction?"

  "Fear," Herman said as he bobbed along behind them, hands thrust in pockets. "It's an age old tactic used by dictators all over the world. Keep the people frightened, make them believe they can’t think for themselves and most of the time they will follow like well-behaved sheep."

  "Enough with the conspiracy crap," Kate sighed, unable to even muster any anger.

  "No, he's right," Draven said. "I think that's exactly what's happening. Rule by fear. It’s a classic dictator tactic, and now he’s done this, Joshua is in a hell of a position to have the majority of people do what he says."