Acidalia XX
By Amanda D.

Wednesday Sept 24th 5am EDT:

Jordon:

The Colonel sat on the same rusted metal chair they’d tied him to however many days ago it was that he was “detained” by people claiming to be with the FBI. Same chair, same dank basement smelling concrete room same single light above him same no windows. The only thing that seemed to change was the number of cuts and bruises on his body. Through the fog and haze of pain, hunger and thirst he thought back over his time here.

At first, He, Christina and Col. Sa’heed had believed it really was FBI agents arresting them outside the posh Quantico restaurant they’d been meeting in. Out on the street, in public view, it had all seemed very legitimate. The Id’s and mannerisms were perfect copies, or maybe they were real. If what Dr. Ryson told him was true, the person behind all of this was certainly powerful enough to get the real thing if he wanted it.

As soon as they were trundled into the windowless cargo area of the waiting van all pretenses of civility disappeared as fast as a fart on a windy day. Immediately after back doors slammed shut, they were strapped to a hard wooden bench. Despite there being no way to see outside their captors placed black hoods over their heads, and they were off.

Congresswoman Flaherty demanded to know who had ordered this treatment and to be told where they were going. Jordon, who was strapped in next to her, had repeatedly nudged her to get her to stop but to no avail. It wasn’t her fault; she had no experience with this kind of situation and assumed her position would protect her to some degree. She learned the hard way, unfortunately, when one of their guards clocked her with the butt end of a rifle.

She howled in pain and that’s when they really started in on her. Their captors screamed in her face, threatened, touched her inappropriately, anything they could to make her miserable. Jordon wanted to kill them for the things they did to her but to her credit Christine, after being hit in the head, refused to give them the satisfaction and remained silent the rest of the ride.

The ride itself felt long, or at least it seemed like it took far more time than it would have taken to get to the FBI headquarters in Quantico. Jordon silently counted to himself as they went along. When the journey finally ended the Colonel figured that they were back somewhere near DC, based on elapsed time, though in reality they could have been anywhere. Possibly under one of the numerous buildings in the DC metro area the Federal Government owned or rented.

Not that it mattered under which castle the torture chamber lies. It was what happened inside that was important and Jordon had been through hell since landing in this room. His right hand still burned painfully from the stump where his pinky finger had been. It had been removed during one of the more strenuous interrogation sessions then cauterized. The stink of his own burnt flesh still, psychologically at least, filled his nostrils. He had the idea it was a small that would never fully leave him.

He let out a loud sigh. He hopped things had gone better for the Congresswoman and Col. Sa’heed, but he had firm doubts. If whoever his captors were, they were obviously completely comfortable with detaining a high-profile military officer like him. Based on that he was certain they’d have no compunctions of making the congresswoman and an AWOL marine base commander disappear as well. The sad truth of it was that these days it was just too damn easy to make anyone that was in your way vanish. He’d seen it done and done it himself more times in the last weeks than he cared to remember without a second thought.

Now that he was on the receiving end, however, it gave him a different perspective on the methods he’d been using. It was a position he wasn’t relishing. The longer he sat tied to the god damned chair the more his thoughts turned to Harold Rogers. The poor soul he’d condemned to Jackson Ryan’s not to tender mercies without so much as a pause. It had seemed at the time that finding a cure superseded everything else, even constitutionally guaranteed human rights.

“Maybe if you get out of this one Charlie you should consider rethinking your methods.” He thought glumly. “Not that we’ll be getting out any time soon from the looks of things.”

Jordon’s military training had helped prepare him for situations like the one he found himself in now. He’d used every trick he’d been taught to resist, giving them no more than his name and rank but it was getting harder with every visit from his interrogators.

Yesterday’s water boarding session had nearly broken him but, somehow, he’d managed to swallow down the fear and give them nothing. Not that he knew where Ryson had been taken, or more than the guy she went with was supposedly with French foreign intelligence agency. That information, however, would give them a lead on where the doctor might be. While Jordon had no love for Carla Ryson, he wanted to see her brought to justice, not languishing in a place like this. If she deserved to die for her part in the outbreak, then it that needed to be determined by a jury of her peers in a court of law.

A faint scream from somewhere outside his room reached his ears. At least e thought it was a scream. It was also entirely possible he imagined it. Was hard to tell what was real and what was his imagination in this place. It had sounded to him like pain filed female scream. He cocked his head, held his breath and listened for it again. Long minutes ticked by as he sat motionless listening until he heard the sound again.

“Fuck” he thought “hope that’s not Christina.”

***************************
Christina Flaherty:

She felt the razor-sharp blade as it slowly slid down the space between her shoulder blade and her spine, biting deep into the skin. The California Congress woman had done her best during her initial days of incarceration in this horrible place to not let her captors see how scared she was. At first her indignation at the situation had carried her through and acted like a suit of armor over the fear. That resentment had no effect on the men holding her, they’d simply laughed and joked about her “spunk”. God how she hated that term. It was a word overconfident men used when they were amused by a woman’s stubborn refusal to give in.

She’d been fighting against that label her whole life. From her father and older brothers to her ex-husband, they’d all labeled her as spunky at some point. She’s shown them all she was more of a fighter than any of them had been.

When she was sixteen, she showed her father the difference between being spunky and being determined when she finally successfully fought off his inappropriate sexual advances, putting him in the hospital for weeks after with ruptured testicles. When her brothers had come after her at his direction, she had fought them off with a bat until she was able to escape out the front door.

Christina had lived on the streets for the next two years, lying to the administrator, guidance counselors and her teachers as she finished her junior and senior years of high school. She graduated top of her class and been given a full scholarship to Stanford. There, for the first time since running away she had a dependable roof over her head. Basic needs stratified she threw herself into her studies of the law, once again graduating at the top of her class, third this time instead of first.

Soon after her graduation she tried her hand at politics for the first time and was elected to the city council in Palto Alto. She was the youngest person to ever be elected and served her constituents with distinction. It was during that time she met Greg Ralston, the man that would become her husband over the course of time. He had pushed her to run for state office when her term on the city council was coming to an end. Christian has thought at the time he pushed her because he believed in her, little did she understand what his true motives were.

Greg had seen her as his ticket to success and fortune, using her status as a state representative to bully his way into lucrative state contracts for his construction firm. The scandal his methods created could have been the end of her political career, but she’d cut the cord on him without a second thought and left him dangling in the wind on his own

Despite the toughness life had beaten into her, as Christina’s time in captivity wore on, the initial indignation had eventually given way to fear. That fear had turned to terror as the verbal threats progressed to physical ones. Her captors had taught her what pain really was and every day she held out on them it was redefined once again.

In spite of the pain they inflicted Christina had been determined not to give them the satisfaction of hearing her voice to it. Her captors, frustrated with their lack of progress in breaking her, had moved on from simple beatings to outright torture. Much to her shame. The congresswoman eventually found she had no choice but to let it out. Today’s session was the worst yet. She first screamed, then whimpered and cried uncontrollably as she felt her warm blood run down the side of her body.

“That felt good congress woman?” The male voice of her torturer said from above and behind as she lay naked, face down strapped to the cold metal table. “Perhaps you’re finally feeling more cooperative? Maybe you to tell us where you sent Dr. Ryson off to now? Or do you need more convincing.” The voice asked menacingly.

“No…no more…please” Christina sobbed. A moment later she felt a large swath of her skin peeling back like that of an orange. She screamed again.

“That was to clear out any illusions you may have, dear, of being able to get away with being anything less than completely truthful with us, congresswoman.” The voice told her. “Now where is the good doctor?”

“I..I….don’t know where she is.” she told them in a panic filled voice. The knife dug in again and an instant later and she screamed.

“Wrong answer Christina.” The voice said. “Next lie you tell we start taking much larger pieces off you off so think long and hard before you speak again.”

“I..I d..don’t know w..where she is. P…p..please I’m telling the truth.” She begged. “I sent her off with H…H..Henry Laffite.”

“I’m afraid we’re going to need more than a random name congresswoman.”

She felt the sharp blade against the end of her foot and a moment later cried out as it dug into the skin on her little toe which hit the floor with a small thud a moment later.

“Now Christina, you’re going to tell us exactly what we want to know eventually.” Her torturer told her matter of factly. “The only real question is how much more cutting we’re going to need to do to get that information. I want you to know I have all day here, so now I want you to carefully think about what comes next before you answer. Who is Henry Laffite?”

“He’s the m..m..maître d at the r..restaurant!” she yelled as he dragged the sharp blade along the skin up the back of her leg. The fear of more added to the pain across her back and where the missing toe once attached dissolved what little courage she had left.

“You sent her off the Matre’d?” He questioned with legitimate confusion in his voice. Whatever answer he was expecting that certainly wasn’t it. “Why would you send her off with someone like that?” The knife dug in, and she felt another piece of skin get flayed. This time it was on the meaty portion of her thigh. She was now beyond shame and screamed until her throat was raw.

“He…he was with French intelligence.” she whimpered once the pain was under control. She always considered herself to be someone that could handle and adverse situation with composure. Her time here today showed her just how wrong she was. Flaherty inwardly cursed her weakness as she babbled on. “I…I….I.. told him to take her someplace and keep her safe.” She cried.

“And where is this so-called safe place he took her exactly?”

“I…I…don’t know. I didn’t ask. D…didn’t want to know… she stammered.

“I don’t think I believe you there Christina. Want to try again?”

“I sw….swear I don’t know anything more.”

“Hmm.” You know congresswoman, under normal circumstances I’d say I believe you. However, with the stakes as high as they are I just can’t be sure you’re still not holding out on me. So, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to stop asking you questions and spend a little time going to work on you and we’ll see if there’s more in there. How’s that sound huh?” He asked in a voice dripping with sarcasm and menace. “Now when you’ve had enough, and you want to cooperate fully just shout out the answers. No need to wait on me to ask.”

“No…noooooooooo” she screamed as she felt the knives blade dig into her flesh again.

********************************
Chief of staff office 10:14am EDT:

Davis Carlyle looked at the knickknacks and photos on the shelves and walls of his office wondering which to take with him when he moved into to the VP’s office. In just a couple hours the full senate was going to vote on confirming him as vice president.

He was all smiles as he picked the box up off the floor that his secretary had been nice enough to get for him and started packing things into it as he waited.

“Mr. Carlyle’ is intercom said surprising him. “there’s a call for you on line six.”

“Thank you, Cheryl.” He replied picking up the phone. He as curious who would be calling him right now. There was no reason for anyone in the Senate to call, the vote was in the bag. It certainly cost him enough money to make Midas jealous to make sure things went smoothly. No reason for Fuller or Blake to bother him yet either.

“Carlyle here.”

“Mr. Carlyle.” The voice on the other end of the phone said.

“Harkin? What are you doing calling me on this line?” He asked as his confusion began to turn to anger. Harkin knew better than to go through the white house switchboard.

“I understand that, but I’ve been ringing your cell for the last twenty minutes.” Harkin replied calmly.

“My cell?” Davis questioned reaching into his pocket form the devise. Pulling it out he saw it was muted and surely enough it showed three missed calls from Harkin’s burner. Carlyle sighed. “Yes, I see it now. My fault. Let me call you right back on it.”

Harkin hung up without another word and waited for his boss to call back. A minute later the soon to be vice president was back on the line.

“Mr. Carlyle.” Harkin answered.

“Sorry about that Harkin. What’s going on?”

“My people finished the interrogation off the congresswoman.” He said simply.

“Did she talk?” Davis asked.

“Yes sir, she sure did, but she didn’t know much. She gave us the name of who she sent Ryson off with. A former French intelligence officer apparently. Goes by the name of Henry Laffite. I’ve never heard of him. I’m guessing that means he’s probably very good at his job. I have my people looking into who he is and where he may have taken the doctor.”

“I’m not familiar with the name either. Regardless we need him found and the doctor too. Do we have a description of him?”

“Not much of one. Male, in his early fifties, heavy set, black hair, balding, moustache. I mean that fits half the men in America really.” Harkin told him. “I’ve got all the people I can spare looking for him though.”

“Good. We need to track him down and fast. I’m going t need to be able to produce the good doctor for trial before long. It will go a long way towards showing my credibility.”

“Yes sir. I understand” Harkin shook his head. Carlyle paid very well so he did as he was told but the man’s vanity and constant scheming drove him a bit crazy at times.

“And congresswoman? What’s her status?”

“She expired. Damn shame too. She was quite the looker. Well, she was before we went to work on her anyhow.” Harkin replied.

“What about Jordon and Sa’heed?”

“Well sir that’s what I wanted to ask you about. Sa’heed is already AWOL (absent without leave) so disposing of him won’t be an issue. No one that was not already looking for him is going to start. Jordon, on the other hand, is going to be missed.”

“No, as a matter of fact he won’t be. The Head of the FBI has already briefed Fuller. He’s been made aware of who Jordon was caught conspiring with. He’s been told the Colonel, and his accomplices are being held in an FBI interrogation center here in Washington. Jordan can disappear just as easily as the others.” Davis told him.

“You want him put on the chopping block too?” Harkin asked. “He could be an asset moving forward.”

“Yes. Yes, he would.” Carlyle agreed as he started thinking. “How about we try and put the hammer on him. He’s got a family, maybe we can leverage them to keep him quiet. If he agrees to play ball, we’ll send him back to California and keep a close eye on him. If not, then we’ll have to come up with some kind of story, eventually.”

“Yes sir. I’ll have the Colonel presented his options and will let you know what the outcome is.”

“Very good. Keep me informed.” Davis told him. “How we are making out with the search for the Reverend and his people. We need him found. It’s been too long already!”

“I know, I’ve got everyone I have on the west coast looking for them. Whatever hole he’s climbed into must be very deep indeed.”

“That’s not acceptable! I pay you a lot of money to get things done!” Carlyle said angrily.

“I’m on it, sir We’ll find him before the cops do.” Harkin reassured.

“Make sure of it or it’s your ass!” Carlyle all but screamed as he slammed the phone down on his end.

Harkin sighed a walked back to the big black SUV where Paka was waiting for him.

Paka looked at him from the passenger’s seat. “Boss is unhappy huh?”

Harkin looked at her quizzically. She tapped her ear, “Enhanced, ya know?”

Harkin nodded and shrugged. “When are they ever?”

She nodded. “Where are we off to now?”

“I have a place over in Oakland I want to check out. Manning used it a while ago to store arms. There’s as good a shot of finding him there anywhere.”

“Let’s go then. You promised me someone to take my shit out on and I’m anxious to get to taking.” Paka replied with a dark anticipatory smile.

Harkin mentally rolled his eyes and wondered what he’d gotten himself into with her.

********************
The White House 2:30pm EDT:

Davis Carlyle’s smile couldn’t have been bigger. An hour ago, he had been confirmed at Vice President by the entire Senate. For the last hour he’d been fielding congratulatory call after call. Seemed everyone wanted to get on the good side of the second most powerful man in the nation’s capital and he was lapping up every minute of it.

He had just hung up with the chairman of the Senate armed services committee when his secretary, Cheryl buzzed in.

“President Fuller’s office called sir. He’d like you to come to the Oval office”

“About time he got around to calling.” Davis thought as he thanked Cheryl, stood up, grabbed his suit jacket.

As he strolled through the hallways leading to the President’s office, Davis though about what would be like once the pulled the trigger and overthrew Fuller. How it would feel being the most powerful man in the world. He had to keep reminding himself now that he as one step away to be patient. There was still a small handful of domino’s that needed to fall before they were ready, but it was getting harder to wait with every passing day.

He arrived at the door to the Oval office, straightened his tie and let out a soothing breath. He pushed the door open and was greeted by Magda, the president’s secretary. “Hello Mr. Vice President. Congratulations are in order I believe.”

“Thank you, Magda.” He replied graciously to the older gray-haired woman. He was going to miss her when the regime changed happened, but she was far too loyal to Fuller to be kept around. “He wanted to see me?” Carlyle asked.

“Yes. He’s on the phone right now but I was told to send you in as soon as you arrived.”

“Great.” Davis replied as he approached the door. He took a moment to straighten his tie a second time, gave a polite knock and stepped in.

Fuller looked up as he entered and waved him in, pointing at a chair on the opposite side of his desk. Davis took the seat Fuller indicated while the president continued his conversation “I don’t give a shit what you think is best Mr. Ford. I want him produced today! If he’s not in my office by 5pm today, it’s going to be your ass in a sling. And I don’t want to hear about any accidents either! Get him here, right fucking now!” The president slammed the phone down looking aggravated. He rested his head in his hands for a moment then looked up at his guest. “Sorry for that.”

“Sounded a bit heated.” Carlyle said in commiseration.

Fuller nodded. “Director Ford is a bit resistant to brining Colonel Jordon here.”

The new Vice President looked at him stunned. “You want to see Jordon?” Carlyle grimaced. Fuller talking to Jordon wasn’t something he could allow to happen.

““Yes. I’ve a good relationship with the Colonel these last few weeks and I believe he’d be far more willing to cooperate with me than some low-level FBI interrogation expert.” The President told him. He stopped for a moment and looked at the blotter on his desk as he messaged his temples before continuing. “Losing him would be a terrible blow to the containment effort. We’ve lost to many good men already.”

Carlyle nodded, trying to look blasé’ all the while rebutting his growing anxiety. If Fuller got with Jordon, his whole plan could be upended. Jordon had talked to Ryson. Ryson had stolen his car and contacted Sa’heed. He knew from Drake that Sa’heed had spoken t General King and King had come to the Secretary of Defense about it. They’d taken care of King and Sa’heed was safely in custody, but he was at the meeting with Jordon and Ryson. The chance that Jordon knew about his affiliation with Bastion and Virginia farmhouse was a risk to great to take.

Thankfully he’d heard the president telling Ford it was going to be his ass if there were problems. The FBI director was squirrely little fucker in his opinion and would give up everything he knew if Jordon and Fuller put him on the spot. After all Ford has already threatened as much just yesterday.

“This might be a way to take out two birds with one stone here.” He thought to himself while asking “Was there something you needed from me Mr. President?”

Fuller put on his best fake smile. “Yes, I wanted to congratulate you on your nomination. I heard the vote went easily in your favor.” he told to him, swallowing back what he really wanted to be saying about his new running mate. The President stood and offered a hand. Davis stood and shook his hand.

“Thank you, Mr. President.” He replied hoping to sound sincere.

Fuller nodded and sat back down before continuing. “We’ve a lot of work to do before election day. I want us to put past issues behind us. We need to be on the same page if we’re going to still be here come January.”

“I am at your service sir.” Carlyle told him, hoping to sound sincere.

“Yes.” Fuller said, sounding distracted. “Enjoy today. You’ve worked hard to get where you are. Celebrate with your family. Tomorrow afternoon we’ll get together for a formal strategy session. The last thing this country needs right now is a change in leadership. God only know what the left-wing whacko Edwards will do if he wins. We need to make sure we stay the course.”

“Fat chance of that.” Carlyle thought then said “Yes sir. Is there anything else?”

“No, Mr. Carlyle that should do it.”

“Then I’ll head back to my office. I have packing to finish up.” He told Fuller. The president nodded and Davis took that as his que to leave.

Several minutes later back in his office, the new VP dialed his burner phone. On the second ring it was answered.

“Harkin.”

“Mr. Harkin, I need a target taken out and it needs to look like an accident.”

*****************************
College Park Virginia 3:05pm EDT:

She sat on the bed of her little motel room trying to read one of the books they had left her, but the storm kept pulling her attention away from the page. Outside it was raining cats and dogs, as her mother used to say. The rumble of thunder combined with the occasional flashes of lightning; she found far more distracting than the story in the book. It was the boredom more than anything else that left her so easily distracted. She’d been stuck in their room for days by herself for the most part.

Carla sighed and tried once again to focus her attention on the written page just as the brightest flash yet was followed up almost immediately but a tremendous boom of thunder. The single-story squat building shook slightly in response.

“Jeeze. That one sounded like it hit the parking lot.” She thought to herself. She got up to look out the window. The lot outside was more puddle than tared surface from her angle but seemed to be entirely intact. “No holes in the ground, no fires. That’s a good sign.” Her face flashed a ghost of a smile at her joke. That grin quickly turned to a frown as she heard someone knocking on the door.

She peeked out the window just as she heard a heavily accented male voice call out “Doctor.” She immediately recognized it as belonging to Henry Laffite, her current host/ rescuer.

How she hated having to be constantly rescued. It infuriated her to need the help of others so often these days. That the way it goes she supposed when you’re the most wanted person in the county and not a trained superspy, it severely limited your options. So, she swallowed her wounded pride as best she could, put on her best face and accepted the help.

“Good afternoon bon docteur.” He said as she opened the door. His constant but, somehow incredibly irritating, smile was plastered on his face. “I trust all is well?”

“Other than being bored out of my mind, yes everything is fine. Thank you for asking.” She replied, trying to sound upbeat. She was incredibly thankful for his help, even if it killed her to accept it, and tried to be as cooperative as she could.

“Good, good.” He replied as his smile grew brighter. “I may have a solution to your boredom, mon amie.”

“Do tell.” She said cautiously. She’d been a guest of the French Government since her escape from the restaurant with Henry in Quantico. She knew they would want something in return for protecting her, the only question was what. From the sound of his little announcement, she was finally going to find out what that price for her current so-called freedom was going to be.

“My superiors have an offer for you to consider.” He said simply.

“And what is this offer?” she asked warily.

“My government is willing grant you safe passage to France and amnesty for your crimes. Along with that, a new identity and a guarantee of never being extradited to the United States if your ever discovered.”

“That’s very generous of you. In exchange I need to do what?”

“We want you to help with our research into a cure for the virus of course. As one of the people who helped develop it my government feels your knowledge of its origins would be invaluable in my countries search to find a way to stop the spread.” He explained. “We would set you up in our best research facility alongside our best and brightest minds with a new look and new name and keep you protected for the rest of your life in exchange for your help.”

“A new look and name?”

“Yes, to keep you from being recognized. You’re the most wanted women not just in America madam, but in the whole world. There is no nation outside of France that would see you anywhere but imprisoned for releasing the virus.” He told her seriously.

“So, My choices are live the rest of my life in France or, what? Another attempt at a fake trial then prison and probably death?” she asked incredulously.

“Oui, that sums it up nicely.” He replied with a shrug.

“And if I refuse the offer, what then? Do you turn me over to the authorizes?”

“Non. If you choose to take your chances you are free to leave whenever you are ready. No one will call your FBI. You will simply be on your own moving forward.” He said with his smile returning.

“Wonderful” she thought sarcastically. Carla could see he knew full well that they had her over a barrel. “How would you get me to France? It’s not like there are daily international departures from Dulles these days.” she asked as she considered her options. Not that there was a realistic alternative but for the moment she was content to fantasize that she actually had a choice.

“We would smuggle you over the border and into Quebec. The fly you on a private plane to Paris where you’d be set up in an apartment. You’d be educated in our ways and customs for as long as it takes for you to pass as someone that grew up in France. After that off to work, eh? That hopefully ends with you helping save humanity from your virus. Win, win as you American’s say, for everyone, non?”

“My virus.” She shivered at the idea of it being referred to as that. She hadn’t had a single thing to do with its development. If she hadn’t been accidentally included in an email chain Sam Greyson sent Lara Wayne extoling the amazing health improvements in Emma the rat they’d used in their experiment, she’d never have even known it existed.

At the time it seemed like fate. She was so sure of it at that moment. Finding out about a miracle remedy so soon after hearing of her nephew Brian’s diagnosis. It almost like she could feel the hand of god guiding her towards a cure for the young man. Now she wondered more often if there had been a hand coming from a much warmer place that pushed her into her current predicament.

“Do we have a deal?” she heard Henry asking bringing her out of her reverie. He knew the answer before she spoke. In his time dealing with Carla Ryson, he understood what kind of woman she was. Reading people like her was what made him such an excellent spy. Not that it took any kind of special skill set to see she was tired and desperate.

“Yes. Given the choices all I can really say is Viva La France.” She replied with a wan smile.

“Excellent!” He exclaimed. “I will let my people know and be back tonight with the details.” He told her as he got up.

“I’ll be waiting with bated breath.” She replied hoping to not come off to sarcastically.

He flashed her another quick grin. “Fear not doctuer, you’re in good hands. I’ve been doing this for a very long time. You will be safe and free before you know it.”

“Thank you for all your help, Henry. I might have a hard time expressing it, but I am grateful.”

“See you tonight, eh?” he said as he closed the door behind him.

“Life behind bars, maybe death in the US or life in an open-air French prison. Who’d have ever thought my life would end up here.” She thought glumly. “Least in France I could try to do some good and have a life.”
She sat back down on the bed and picked up the tablet he’d left for her and began to brush up on her French.

************************
1:20 pm PDT San Francisco:

Wendy sat on the large rock looking at the back end of what was nearly completed the Sisters new facility. It had only been a couple weeks since Ellie agreed to take the place over and already the insides were completely transformed. From what she could tell it wouldn’t be long before they could move patients in and start operations back up. The idea of getting back to business made her happy. She enjoyed helping, alongside Ellie and the rest, other Acidalia infectee’s with their transformations in whatever way she could. It gave her a sense of purpose that her previous life had been sorely lacking.

Back in the days before the virus, when her name had been Michael Waters, she never would have imagined the life she lived now. How Michael would have laughed at the notion of finding peace in servitude to another and yet, she’d found it in service of the Sister’s leader Ellie Wolf.

So deep was her devotion to the diminutive new woman that she had killed for her willingly. Wendy knew, despite the problems that killing had caused, that she’d eagerly do it again if Ellie asked. Simply put, she loved Ellie. It wasn’t a romantic love; she wasn’t capable of that. It was more of an unexplainable yet complete devotion.

Michael had loved only himself and his own self interests. He’d devoted countless hours to perfecting his body, his goal had always been to look like nothing short of Adonis. Working out for hours upon hours at the gym near his home in the relatively small town of Lafayette California. Every day was a new attempt to achieve physical perfection.

The best thing about living In Lafayette was it offered the peace and quiet of a small town while being just a hop skip and a jump up rt 24 from his office in Oakland. His home was as palatial as he could afford, and he loved every inch of it inside and out. His other love was his Mercedes-Benz G-63 roadster. The car represented everything he didn’t have growing up. It filled him with pride every time he’d caught someone admiring the midnight blue sports car.

Flashy cars, flashy homes, flashy jewelry, near perfect body, custom-made clothes, materialism ruled his life. His obsession with the material had come from growing up dirt poor in rural Nebraska. His parents had been corn farmers. They owned a relatively small plot of fifteen acres where they managed to barely scratch out a living for themselves. They were always on the brink of bankruptcy, but somehow managed to keep him and his two younger brothers fed and clothed, even if they were well used and threadbare.

Growing up he hated his hand to mouth existence. He vowed as soon as he was able Michael was going to escape the farm life and be somebody important. “let the suckers fend for themselves” was his mantra as he worked diligently to remove himself from the home life situation he was in. He scrimped, saved and stole whatever money he could from whoever was stupid enough to give him the opportunity until he finally had enough to get away. On his way out he didn’t even say goodbye, he just walked out the front door one sunny Saturday morning and never returned.

To support himself he had worked whatever odd jobs he could find until he fell into working as a bodyguard for hire out of a small firm in the city. Michael has excelled at the job and rose quickly through the ranks. His impressive physique as well as fierce intimidating personality made him highly sought after by government officials, celebrities and the super-rich looking to be protected from the riff raff. How he loved what he did. Rubbing elbows with all those famous people and people of means, even if it was just as hired help, made him feel like he was part of their world. He finally felt like an accepted member of that class.

His fame within those circles had grown to new heights not long before the outbreak by saving a well know rising female popstar from an assassination attempt. He’d managed to disarm the attacker and keep the woman from being shot but had not been able to avoid being shot in the throat himself.

As a result of the injury, he needed several surgeries. The doctor told him it was going to take at least three operations to repair his shattered larynx. It was on his last trip to see the surgeon for the final pre-op appointment where he had caught the bug. Wendy was quite sure of it because the next morning she woke up not feeling well. As with so many others, the feeling of sickness had gone quickly from general to acute and within fifteen hours of waking into the doctor’s waiting room she slipped into a comma that lasted four days.

When she awakened, she was amazed and repulsed and confused about the stranger that looked back at her from the mirror. While she was never going to win a beauty contest there was no doubt, he had become a she, somehow. It was still early in the epidemic and knowledge of the virus and its effects were only beginning to be known. The confusion over how such a thing could happen was only topped by his overwhelming hunger.

While never remembering feeling any desire to be female before it happened, the physical change brought on an inner peace he’d never felt in his previous life. In just a few days’ time he grew accustomed to his new body. He was even looking forward to trying new things as woman. The one thing that didn’t change though was his lack of a voice. She was now officially and incurably mute.

The problem with living in exclusive places like the gated community where her home had been located was that once you left there were guards or door men verifying you belonged there before you could get back in. Not understanding the issues it would create, seven days after she had gotten sick, three days after she reawakened, she made the mistake of going to the grocery store. Upon awakening she had been ravenous and ate most of the food in her house. With supplies running low, she headed off without a second thought. When she returned, however, the neighborhood security people wouldn’t let her back in.

She had her license, her resident ID and her gate card, but that didn’t make any difference. No one believed she was who she claimed to be. Things got heated as she tried to convince the Barney Fife wannabe that she was indeed Michael but having none of it. Most of the frustration on her end came from having to write note after note that he gave at best a cursory glance at. It got to be so obvious he wasn’t looking at what she put down that she began to wonder if the dumb ass could even read. Eventually he threatened to call the police, and she got back in her car and drove off.

It took a while for her anger to wear down to the point where she could think straight. Once she did, she realized she was now effectively homeless. Worse off she’d spent nearly every penny she had on her on food that was now going to go bad, leaving her effectively broke. Sure, she had money in various accounts in several banks but her radically changed appearance was going to cause the same issues at the bank as it did at home. No one was going to believe she was who she claimed to be.

She spent most of the next two days driving around and trying to figure out what to do next. With no answers on the horizon, she pulled into a warehouse park on her second evening looking for an out of the way place to sleep for the night. Little did she realize when she found a spot behind one of the larger abandoned looking buildings and pulled into it that it housed the Sisters first base off operations.
Very late into the night she was disturbed by a commotion. Outside her car and off to the right were a woman arguing loudly with a child. She’d sat up and watched what turned out to be Vera and Carol as they went at it. She was bemused by the fierceness of the little one as she yelled, and finger pointed at the older portly woman. Eventually it seemed they were going to come to blows. Wendy, worried about the young one’s safety, got out to break things up. She walked over to where the two were fighting just in time to head the small one yell, “I am not a fucking child!”

Wendy laughed at her spunk but after the fat one reached out for the child. She couldn’t allow that, so she stepped up behind her and put her giant paw on Vera’s shoulder. The fat new woman nearly jumped out of her skin when she turned and saw who was there. Wendy pointed at Carol and simply shook her head no.

“W..what? I wasn’t going to hurt her!” Vera squealed.

“Ya, everything cool. No need to hurt her.” Carol insisted. “We just argue a lot.”

Wendy raised her eyebrows, and both the new women nodded their head in unison. The giantess took her hand off Vera’s shoulder and nodded.

“Who are you?” Carol asked. “Don’t you speak?”
Wendy shook her head no, then covered her throat with both hands.

“Mute?” Vera asked.

Wendy shook her head yes. She pulled a notebook out of her back pocket and wrote quickly. She showed it to the two. It read “My names Wendy. I’m homeless ATM. I was sleeping in the car over there when you two woke me up.”

“I’m Carol and that’s Vera.” The small one said. “We have tons of space. Do you want to come inside with us? I’m sure Ellie would love to meet you.”

“Child, Do you think it’s right to invite a stranger in without checking first?” Vera said. Wendy could see her point.

“God damn it Vera I’m not a fucking child! How fuckin many times do I have to tell you!” She stamped her foot in a most childish manner, and it was all Wendy could do to keep from cracking up.

“What are you grinning at?” Carol asked her. Wendy put her hands up in a gesture of surrender and shook her head no. The fierce look on Carol’s face belied her child-like size. “Well do you want to come meet the boss or what?”

Wendy shook her head.

“Well, come on then”? Carl urged despite the disapproving look plastered on Vera’s pot marked face. The small one took her hand and led her inside the warehouse.

The place looked dilapidated from the outside but inside behind the blacked-out windows it was entirely different. The walls were painted industrially white. The floor was spotlessly clean and there were people everywhere. Some on beds, obviously going through the change while others attended them. Wendy was amazed; she wasn’t sure what to expect walking in but this wasn’t even close.
While she gawked, she heard Vera shouting for someone. When she turned to look, she saw a short woman with very long sandy blonde hair approaching. Instantly Wendy was transfixed. The woman, despite her stature had a presence she could feel from twenty feet away.

Vera quickly got between the two of them and said, “We found this hulking creature outside.” Then added defensively “Carol invited her in.”

Wendy frowned at the added blame deflection. She was getting an idea on just who this fat little woman was.

Ellie on the other hand smiled. “Nice to meet you. I’m Ellie Wolf.” She offered a hand to shake.

Carol next to her said. “Her names Wendy. She can’t speak.”

Ellie shook her head and asked, “Been mute all your life?”

Wendy took her note pad out and wrote, “No. It was a semi recent injury that looks to be permanent now.”
Ellie read it and nodded. “You’re a virus victim?” she asked.

Wendy nodded.

“Well then, We are the Sisters of Acidalia. Please feel welcome to stay as long as you like.” She told Wendy. “We could surely use the help.”
And that’s how she came to be with the Sisters.

They became the family that Michael never wanted. She loved them all but none more the Ellie. The short sandy blonde-haired leader of the group was unlike anyone she’d ever met before. More a force of nature than a person, Ellie, despite many differences in opinion, inspired them all to work together for the greater good. The longer Wendy was around her the more devoted to Ellie she became.
Now, however, with the additions of the Reynolds survivors and the army squad provided by the mysterious Mr. Harkin, Wendy began to question her place with the Sisters. She’s taken tremendous pride in being asked by Ellie to be her personal protector along with Nicole. She’ stood by her even when Nicole had questioned Ellie’s actions, but lately she felt redundant. Nicole was Ellie’s best friend from before the virus and the military squad were far better trained than Wendy. Even Thomas’ abilities out shown hers. It didn’t feel like there was any need for her now.

To make the point hit home even harder, yesterday she had been in the condo’s gym with the one they called Becket. They’d been having a friendly little competition to see who could lift more weight. Wendy, with her tremendous muscles, topped out at just over one thousand pounds. She’d struggled mightily with it but managed to get the barbell up twice and was rightly proud of the accomplishment. Not since tipping over the police car in Wyoming had she pushed herself so hard and it felt good to cut loose like that.
Then it was Beckets turn. Even though she was half Wendy size the army private pushed nearly nine hundred pounds up five times without breaking much of a sweat. Becket hadn’t gone any higher with the weights, she supposed as not to embarrass Wendy, but it was obvious she could have if she’d wanted. That pity Wendy felt Katie as showing by not pushing any harder made the feeling of not being needed even more acute.

The rest of her squad, who were also there working out, had laughed and high-fived her, all but ridiculing Wendy to her face. Becket to her credit congratulated Wendy on winning. There was great sincerity in her words but Wendy so the truth of the situation in her eyes. Even being assured by Russov that no one had been found as of yet that was Beckets equal as if yet did little to assuage the hurt.
Now sitting by herself, doing her best to not wallow in self-pity, Wendy tried to think of a way other worth. She’d considered going after Rev. Manning on her own, but she was a bodyguard not a private detective. She had no idea where to begin the search and she was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be listed on Google. So, the question remained, what could she do to demonstrate her value to the Sisters?

The longer she thought about it the more frustrated she became. Everything she could come up with, Wendy felt there someone else was far more suited to do than a giant hulk of a woman like her.

Just as her frustration began to spiral into depression, Ellie appeared next to her like an angel.

“Are you ok sweetie?” She asked. Every time Wolf was near Wendy felt lighter, more focused, more at peace. She looked up at Ellie and shook her head, yes. God, how she wished to could speak, to tell this woman how much she meant to her.

“Good. Cause you look kind of upset.” Ellie remarked. She reached out and touched Wendy’s cheek drawing her eyes to meet Ellie’s. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Wendy shook her head no.

“Ok hun. If you ever need anything, all you need to do is come and find me, ok?”

Wendy smiled and again shook her head. She felt very close to tears and was struggling mightily to hold them back.

“I love you sweetie. This place wouldn’t be the same without you.” The small new woman told her as she took the behemoths hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “Nicole and Thomas are making dinner tonight for everyone. I’m curious and a little scared. You going to join us?”

Wendy smiled at the little joke. She nodded again. Then pointed at her wrist where a watch would normally sit.

“How long? I’m not sure. Maybe a half hour.”

Wendy gave her a thumbs up. Then she stood and hugged her friend. Anyone walking by would wonder how Ellie had been cut in half as she was engulfed warmly but Wendy’s massive arms. She returned the hug just as warmly as it was given, then after a moment pulled back. “I’ll see you in a bit, sweetie.” She told her. Wendy gave her a thumbs up. Ellie flashed her a bright smile and headed back inside. Wendy watched thinking that there was nothing she wouldn’t do for Ellie Wolf.

*********************
1:30pm PDT Mia and Sam:

“Hey Mom, come look at this.” Sam called out across the freshly completed lab her and Mia now shared. Ellie had been true to her word and spared not a single penny of their benefactors’ money. The place was better equipped than anything she’d had at Greyson. They’d even managed to acquire a Tonic industries gene sequencer. Sam had wanted the lab to purchase one before the accident, but Carla had rightfully fought her on it due to the incredibly high cost of the machine. The one Ellie got them was the latest and greatest model, with every bell and whistle there was to be added. Mia secretly thought Sam might be in love with it.

The rest of the large room was just as up to date with the latest equipment. Even the centrifuges were top of the line. Everything they could ever need in finding a way to stop the virus from causing further damage was here at their fingertips. Now the pair of scientists needed to get to work and find the answer.

“What’s up” Dr. Blue asked as she stepped over to see what Sam needed.

Mia was in heaven herself in the lab working with her surrogate daughter. It had been months since she was able to do any kind of real research and just two days of having a fully functioning lab made her realize how much she’d missed it. Working with Sam, who she respected as a researcher more than anyone she’d worked with previously, made it even better. If there was a vaccine to be found, she was sure the two of them would be the ones to discover it. After all it was Same that created the bug and her knowledge of genetics was second to none, in Mia’s experience.

“I was looking at the blood sample Warren gave us. Am I crazy or is the nucleus of his white cells much larger than normal?” she asked stepping aside to let Mia get a look.

“Hmm.” Dr. Blue said. She tucked strands of her long black hair behind her ear and leaned in to look. The sample looked blurry to her eyes, so she turned the knob on the side adjusting the focus. They did seem a bit larger than usual, but it also might just have been the scope.
“Hand me the nano spanner, please.” She asked.

Sam walked across the room to the supply cabinet. It too was stocked with every toy that they could ever have need for. After a minute of looking, she spotted the spanner and grabbed the requested tool. Upon returning she handed it to Mia.

“I’m not wrong, correct?”

“It doesn’t look like it. I want to get a measurement just too be sure.” The doctor replied as she added the measuring tool to the microscope. Mia fiddled with the nano spanner trying to get it placed just right. Several hmmm’s and curse words later she looked up. “According to the spanner they .00213 nanometers. That’s about 15% larger than normal I remember correctly.” She said trying to recall. It had been a long time since she’d taken cellular biology 201.

“That’s a significant difference.” Sam replied as she considered what it might mean. “Do you think that might have something to do with his immunity?”

“It’s hard to say. We’d need more samples from him over a much longer period of time. These might be larger for any number of reasons, like his constant exposure to so many infected women or it might just be him.”

“Hmmm. True. But if that were the case your cells should be similarly affected. You’ve been with us for nearly as long and you’ve never shown any sign of being infected or a carrier.”

“That sounds like a plausible theory, Sam. I can’t say I’ve ever though to measure the nucleus of my white cells before. The easiest way to find out if I’m similarly affected is to take a quick sample and compare. Let me grab a blood draw test it.” Mia stepped away for a moment to grab the necessary materials.

Sam took the opportunity to take another peak into the microscope. With the nano spanner in place is it was very easy to see the cell nuclei were significantly larger than normal. On a lark she moved it over to one of the red cells to take a measurement. She placed the tool over the cell sample she selected and four seconds later the measurement appeared in front of her eyes. The red cell size was well within the average range.

“So, whatever the reason it’s only the white cells that are affected. Interesting….” Sam thought to herself.
Mia returned with her blood already on a slide just as Sam was pulling back from the scope. “Let’s see how yours look.” Dr. Greyson said removing the slide containing Warrens blood. Once again, she bent over the microscope and fiddled with the focus until she had a clear view of the blood cells. The first thing she noticed was Mia’s white cell count was much lower than the sample of Warren’s. It took Sam several minutes to find enough of them to get a measurement. Once they were found she slid the nano spanner into place.

After several seconds of observation, she sat up and said “This is interesting. Your white cells are enlarged too, but not as much as Warrens. Your sample don’t have the same concentration that his had.”

“What do you think it means? “Mia inquired. She couldn’t help but admire her daughter’s ingenuity. No one she was aware of had ever thought to look at white cell size as route to uncover immunity. It was a novel idea and showed a real outside the box kind of thinking they were going to need to conquer a virus that did the impossible.

“I don’t know. I wish we had an older sample of Warrens blood. That would tell us if this were a new phenomenon or something he’s always had. Though with your sample showing a similar result on the white cells, it’s an interesting food for thought. If only we had another immune male to compare too.”

“Based on how fast the virus is spreading, I’m not sure how many immunes ones there will be. For all we know Warren is the only one.”

“Yes. We have no evidence that there are more as of yet. I find it hard to believe that we wound up finding the only immune male on the planet though. What are the chances? Ya know?”

Mia nodded. “Once we’re fully up and running with patients, we’ll have far more samples to work with. Maybe then we can find a link between the virus and the white cell size. It’s possible we may even bump into more immune men, if they are really out there.”

“I hope so.” Sam said with a tinge of sadness.

Mia caught it right away. “Ok enough of that.”

“Of what?”

“Of wallowing.” She replied sternly. “I thought we agreed to put that all aside and focus a way of putting a cap back on that particular genie bottle.”

Sam nodded. “Sorry. I can’t help it.”

“Sorry is not going to cut it any more Samantha. What’s done is done and can’t be undone. Thomas is 100% right when she told you nothing will change what’s happened. So, move forward. Get your head totally into the game and let’s beat this thing. Or go sit in the corner and cry and I’ll have Robi help me.”

Sam grinned at the use of her full name. “Yes mom. I’ll do better.” She promised.
Mia smiled back. “Good. You better.”

“I love you too mom.” Sam said returning to the work she had in front of her. She took another look in the microscope. “I wonder what would happen to his cells if we introduced my blood to them.”

“Considering he’s immune I’d expect the virus in your blood to be killed off. We’d need a larger volume of his blood to make it a valid test though.” Mia added.

Joking Sam said” Hey Warren, we need to drain you dry babe. You ok with that?”

Mia laughed. “I think we should use that approach. It might just work. Though Robi might object.”

“Think so?” Sam joked then smiled. “We do need more though. I have a good feeling about this avenue. It’s the first difference we’ve found in his biology. Maybe it’s not the cure but it might lead us to one eventually. I think we’re going to have to talk to Robi since she’s going to oversee the clinic. We need to ask her to make sure we get blood samples from everyone that comes in.”

“I agree. The more the merrier.” Mia replied. “I’m going to see her later today. I’ll mention it.”

“Awesome. The sooner we’re all in the same loop the easier it will be once things get going around here. I have a feeling we are going to be a lot busier than anyone thinks.” Sam replied.

**************
4pm EDT Jordon:

He had no idea why they’d dragged him out of the dank basement. At the time he had assumed they were taking him to be done away with. However, that turned out to be as wrong an idea as he’d ever had in his life. Instead of being led outside the brought him to an elevator. They brought him up several floors, blind folded. After it stopped, his captors led him down a corridor so brightly lit that he could see the glare leak around the edges of the mask he wore.
Once they reached their destination he’d been pushed into a room and told to remove the cover from his eyes. Once removed he was surprised to find himself in a windowless room where on a coat rack in the opposite corner hung his dress uniform. Jordon was told to go into the door on the same wall where he was even more shocked to discover the room was a fully functioning bathroom, complete with sink and shower.

To the left of the sink was a bar that held a simple white body towel and a face cloth. His guard ordered him to clean up and get dressed. He thought about asking why but figured the only answer he’d get would be no answer at all. Maybe even the butt end of the guard’s rifle to the head, which had been the answer to several of his inquiries in the past few days. So, he did as he was told and stiped off the grimy underwear and tank top he was wearing and stepped into the shower.

Normally he was fast in and out of the shower, but this was the first one he’d taken since the night he was taken into custody. Jordon relished in the hot water for as long as his captors would allow. When time was up, his guard, who had been standing outside the bathroom, poked his head in and loudly cleared his throat signaling Jordon’s shower time was up.

The Colonel stepped out and dried himself off. Next to the sink was a shaving kit. Jordon opened it up and five minutes later the face that stared back at him from the mirror actually looked like someone he knew. He nodded at his reflection and gave it a quick salute. This was an awful lot for them to go through if he was going to be executed. A bit of hope that he was somehow going to see his family again started to creep in. Before he let it go too far down the rabbit hole he stamped it down. “This is not the time Charles.” He reminded himself.

With cleaning himself up now completed, he went back into the room where his freshly cleaned uniform hung. A chair had been provided by persons unknown while he was in the shower. He dressed slowly, enjoying the familiar feeling of his clothes. If this was his end, he was going to draw it out as long as he could. Using the chair, he got his socks and shoes on.

When that was done, he sat and waited. Outside the thin wooden door, he could hear people talking and moving around but no one came to check on his progress. He tapped his foot nervously as he waited. Much as he told himself to stop it just wouldn’t.

Finally, boredom and nervousness got the best of him, and he went to try the door. He reached for the knob and twisted it several times but as suspected it turned out to be locked. He stepped back to see if the noise it had made was enough to alert whoever was watching him. When a minute or more passed with no one appearing, he shook his head at the absurdity of it all and knocked. That was answered almost immediately.

A voice from the other side told him, “Go sit back on the chair with your hands by your sides.”

Jordon complied with the order and took a seat. Seconds later an average height heavily muscled man with a deep tan along with short cropped blond hair and ice blue eyes stepped in. He was casually carrying an M16 rifle. From his posture with it the Colonel could tell he wasn’t expecting any trouble. Just to test him, Jordon stood up just before he reached the chair and grabbed for the guns muzzle. Faster than he thought [possible the man pulled the gun back and slugged him one in the middle of his face. Jordon fell back into the chair then toppled off onto the floor.

The stranger stood over him shaking his head. “Now look what you did. You’re bleeding on your nice clean shirt. Can’t have that.” He looked disgusted then went on. “Now do we understand each other better? Can I trust you to sit there like a good boy while I get you another or do I have to tywrap you to the chair. It’s your choice Colonel. I don’t want this to be anymore unpleasant for you than it needs to be.” He offered Jordon a hand. “Going to behave?”

Jordon nodded his assent.

“Good.” He said pulling the Colonel back to his feet. He handed him a Kleenex for his bleeding nose. “Sit tight, I won’t be a minute.” He leaned down as Charles took a seat. “Looks like your tie is stained too. I’ll grab another of those too.”

His captor left the room. Jordon sat in the chair burning with embarrassment. Twenty years ago, he’d have wiped the floor with his guard. Now, however, he’d spent too many years sitting behind a desk and looking into microscopes to be an effective foot soldier. That combined with being tied up in this place for the last week at least left him feeling stupid, weak and slow.

Before his self-criticism could move into despondency, the man returned with fresh clothing. “Try not to make a mess this time. We don’t have an unlimited supply.”

The Colonel nodded and accepted the new shirt and tie. Placing them on the chair he checked the tissue on his nose. The bleeding had stopped so he stripped down. “What’s going on here” he asked taking a chance.

“You’ll see soon enough.” The guard told him with a grin.

“You’re a soldier, yes?”

“I was a Marine for five years. Now I do freelance work.”

The Colonel nodded. “Then as one military man to another, tell me, is this the end or the road for me? I just want to know so I can meet it on my feet like a soldier deserves.”

The guard nodded. He sighed. “As far as I know your only being transported.”

The Colonel nodded back. “Thank you.” He finished getting dressed.

Once he was finished, the hood was placed back over his head and his hands were bound again. The guard led him out back along the same hallway. They took a quick elevator ride up a few floors, then down another corridor and finally through one last door he found himself in what sounded like a loading dock. He could hear a large door being rolled up and for the first time since his imprisonment he got a whiff of fresh air. It smelled so good that despite the circumstance he smiled under the hood.

They led him down a set of steps and trundled him into the cargo area of a van. He was set down on a hard wooden bench. The handcuffs he wore removed from one hand and attached to a metal bar that ran beneath the bench. Once secured he heard the doors close, and his hood was removed.

The cargo area was a typical prisoner transport area. Drab green paint, very hard wooden benches ran along both sides of the back, the front of it had a steel plate with a very small grate covered window separating them from the driver’s compartment. Where the back windows would normally be were metal plates.

“Might as well sit back and enjoy the ride.” His guard told him. “It’s going to be about an hour before we get there.”

“Where are we going?” He asked.

“DC.” was the only answer he was given. Jordon nodded and leaned back, trying to get as comfortable as the van would allow.

For what seemed like days he listened to the sound of the van’s exhaust as it echoed though the cargo box. The bumps in the road jarred his spine as the bench had no give to it. Every time he’d grunt the man guarding him would laugh. “Not exactly a limo huh?” He asked.

“I’ve been in worse.” Jordon replied.

“Maybe. But I’d bet it’s been a long time. There’s no shame in being a desk jockey Colonel. No need to be ashamed of not being as tough as you used to be. You’ve earned your spot.” The guard told him.

Charles nodded in agreement.

They continued along their way and eventually approached Washington DC proper. Jordon could tell because their speed had slowed considerably. The van felt like it was creeping its way through traffic.

“Rush hour?” He asked.

“Must be.”

Before he could say anything else the van was rocked hard and sent skittering toward the side he sat on. Charles’ back was jarred hard against the outer wall as the vehicle hit something very solid. The bench he was tied to splintered as a bit of guardrail bit through the van’s skin.

Something else hit them and Jordon was tossed violently toward the already caved in drivers’ side where his now dead guard had been sitting. His hip slammed against the dead man, but his arm was still attached to the opposite bench. The colonel screamed as he felt something tear inside his shoulder. Before he could even begin to wonder what, he’d injured the van was rocked from the driver’s side for a third time.

He felt a moment of weightlessness as the van first rolled then began to fall. Charles Jordon whispered a silent payer as they fell, knowing this was most likely his end. For an instant he felt terrible shame at dying in a car accident and then the van hit the water like it struck a brick wall.

The front of it caved in as water gushed into the compartment. Jordon was still cuffed to the bench. There would be no escape as the water
filled the cargo space and the van sank deeper into the Potomac river.

****************
6pm PDT KLTR Evening News:

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen this KLTR news. The evening addition. My name is Lara Hughes.” The anchor woman said. “Out top story tonight is the continued hunt for Reverend Morris Manning. As the manhunt enters its second week the police continue to work diligently to track down the elusive terrorist. Chief Hilda Grady in a press conference early this afternoon sought to reassure residents that the San Francisco police as well as state and federal authorities are doing all they can to track down the madman.

“Chief Grady was quoted as saying, “Though we’ve yet to apprehend the Reverend himself as of this time, we have managed to track down and arrest several of his followers and are questioning them as we speak.” She also added, “Since the incident at City Hall there have been no reports of testing center fires or attacks on infected individuals linked to him or his followers.”

“We will continue to update you as this story develops”

“Turning to national news tonight, a massive collision just outside Washing DC this afternoon has left upwards of twenty people injured and possibly as many as eight dead. At approximately 3pm local time a box truck was heading south on rt66 just south of the city traveling in the far-right lane when it suddenly lost control in the torrential rain that has been covering the city for the last three days. The driver swerved suddenly causing the truck to go into a spin and shoot across all three lanes of the highway.”

“The out-of-control truck slammed into several cars on the southbound side including a fully loaded cement truck causing the driver to lose control and crash through the guardrail hitting several cars traveling northbound. The cement truck’s momentum carried it all the wat to the north bound breakdown lane forcing three of the north bound vehicles off the road tumble into the into the waters of the Potomac river.”

“The police currently have not released the names of any of the victim’s pending notification of the families. A spokesperson also said that while recovery efforts continue at this hour, divers have found no signs of survivors in any of the cars in the river.”

*************
Katie Becket let out a sigh and switched the TV off as she reached for a towel to wipe the sweat off her face. She was very impressed with the operations the Sisters had set up. Their base of operation at the former airliner assembly plant was starting to come together. There was everything there a person could need, except a gym. With everything going on there it was understandable that it hadn’t been completed yet. It was something of a hassle to come to the condo and use the one there, but it gave her a chance to get out from under the ever-watchful eye of Sargent Russov.

“Hey, I was watching that.” Linda called out with indignation.

“Oh. Sorry I didn’t see you come in.” Becket replied.

“It’s ok. Your work out looked pretty intense. I just stayed over here on my little tread mill.”

Katie nodded. “Yeah, it’s a good way to clear your mind.”

“Yes, for sure. I was cooped up for so long that I never thought my legs would ever come back. It’s taken a bit but now I can do a couple miles on this thing pretty easily. I’d love to do something more like yours, but walking is about all Robi will let me do right now.”

Becket wiped her face again with the towel and took a good look at the curly blonde headed new woman. She was dressed in blue shorts and a white tee she’d sweated through a bit. The top clung to her just enough that her little bit of a baby bulge showed. “I didn’t know you were pregnant.”

Linda nodded. “Yep I am.”

“How far along are you?” Becket had never seen a pregnant new woman before. Her curiosity was piqued.

“Around four months.” Linda told her, running her hand over the slight curve of her tummy.

“I don’t mean to come off as rude, but how?”

“How did I get pregnant? Honey did your mother never tell you about the birds and the bee’s?” she joked.

Becket laughed. “I mean you’re a new woman. Were you into guys before or…?” Katie felt her face turn red at the phrasing of her question. She was well aware of how badly she was coming but couldn’t seem to extricate her foot from her mouth. “Maybe I should just shut the fuck up and mind my own business huh?”

“No, it’s fine.” Linda replied with a small laugh. She was getting a kick out of how flustered Becket was getting. She took a moment to take a sip of water and brush her hair back from her face. “I was locked up for a long time. That’s where I got knocked up.”

Katie thought she might be the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen with her long curly blonde locks and China doll like delicate features.
“One of the guards?” She asked.

“Something like that, ya.” Linda replied evasively. “I don’t really want to get into it to be honest.”

“Ok. I’m sorry if I came off rude for asking.” Becket told her as her face turned even more red with embarrassment.

“No, no. It’s fine.” The redhead replied with a smile. “How do you like being in the army? I didn’t know they had enhanced women in the military.”

Becket sighed as she thought back to her conversation with Rachel Voss several nights ago. The new woman had asked her the same question not long before taking her own life. “They do. They don’t give you much of a choice about it though.” She told Linda. “Far as how I like it goes; all I can say is it’s slightly better than being a lab rat.”

“Fair enough. Do they make all of you wear those ankle monitors?” She asked.

Becket laughed. “No, I was a bad girl and snuck out our second night here. I just wanted to be alone for a bit, but I got caught so they’re keeping me on a leash now.” She thought back to how pissed off Russov had been when she arrived at the police station that night. After Voss had taken her life, the police arrested Katie for not helping enough, she guessed. They’d never really mentioned what charges she was facing but they had called Russov when they found out she was active in the military.

When she arrived at the station Russov was fit to be tied. She’d read Becket the riot act in front of all the cops in the station, which Katie hadn’t exactly loved but that’s life in the military. She sat quietly while her superior brow beat her about responsibility and being a team player, all the while envisioning Rachel falling off into the endless night. It was a nightmare that was going to be held over by unpopular demand in her dreams all week, she supposed. Once they were back at the compound, she’d slapped the ankle bracelet on her and that was that. Katie was back to being a captive again.

“So, your Linda, right?” Becket asked. The question seemed a bit absurd, but she desperately wanted to change the subject.

“That’s me. You’re Becket? The superwoman ya?” She asked with a smile.

“That’s me but I prefer my friends call me Katie. I don’t know about the superwoman part though.”

“Katie it is then.” She stepped off the treadmill and walked over. Extending her hand she added, “Nice officially meet you.”

Katie smiled as they shook. Linda was even prettier up close. “God I’d go full on gay for this one.” she thought to herself with a grin. “Do you know what you’re going to have?” she asked pointing at Linda’s belly.

“I haven’t asked Robi to check but being how I’m infected and all, I kind of assume it will be a girl.”

Becket nodded. “Probably a safe bet. Got a name picked out?”

Linda sighed deeply at the question. What she wanted to do was lash out and scream in the Private’s face “Do you think I wanted thins? That evil cunt Stanley did this to me!!” However, Ellie Robi and Thomas had all agreed it was probably best not to tell the military people about Reynold’s and simply replied “No not yet, but I have time.”

“Well, I’ll just say Katherine is a great name for a girl.” Becket replied with an impish grin. That made Linda laugh.

“I’ll keep that in mind for when the time comes.”

“Good.” Katie replied still smiling. “You know Linda I’m glad we got to talk. I don’t really have friends these days. It’s nice to speak to someone that not trying to give me orders every five minutes.”

“I’m glad too. And you can move the friend counter up to one from zero if you wish.” The pregnant woman smiled at Becket and Kate just melted.

“Don’t do it, Kate. She just wants to be friends.” She reprimanded herself. “Never know when our orders might change too. That’s why Russov doesn’t want us to get too involved with any of them.”

“Well, I need to go change, I guess. I have an appointment with Robi in an hour.” Linda told her, breaking Katie reverie.

“Do you need a ride to the compound?” Becket asked. “I need to get back too but I can wait for you.”

“I’ll be fine, Katie. Thank you though.” Linda replied with a smile. “Was very nice to meet you.

I’m sure we will run into each other at the compound later. Take care.” The pregnant new woman told her then she was gone.
Becket shook her head. “Nice job Becket. Come off as a lovesick puppy much?” she chastised. Things were far easier when she was just a pretty girl at the bar looking to have drinks bought for her. Men were so much easier to read than women. She sighed and looked at her watch. “Shit, I’d better get back before they come looking for me.” She grabbed up her gym bag and dropped the towel into the hamper and headed off.

***********************
7pm EDT The Oval Office:

Fuller stood in the center of the Oval Office looking at the television mounted on the far wall completely nonplused. He closed his eyes and rubbed the spot on his forehead between them with his index finger incessantly, trying to relieve the constantly building stress. He opened them and shook his head. Much to his chagrin, the news was still reporting the same thing. Exasperated, he threw his hands up in the air. His mind just couldn’t seem to process that the van transporting Jordan to the White House was the same one the news footage showed falling off then RT66 bridge and into the river below.

He’d watched the report three times since Ford called to inform him what happened. Each time it seemed more and more incongruitous that another plan had fallen completely apart due to circumstance beyond his control. It was almost as if he was snakebitten.

“A fucking car accident? Are you kidding me?” he whispered to himself as the news reporter droned on about the tragedy on Rt.66. “I can’t fucking believe this shit.” He walked back to his desk and slumped down into the chair. He silently wondered if he needed to make a personal apology to the almighty or sacrifice a virgin in the back of the White House or something. It was just unbelievable.

“Now what the fuck are you going to do, Bob?” he chastised himself. With no answers forthcoming he continued t rub the spot with his finger.

For the umpteenth time eh wondered if it was too late to just walk away and leave this mess to someone else to deal with. The country had a Vice President now, there was no reason he couldn’t turn and dump the whole mess on Carlyle’s lap. Except he wasn’t a quitter. Fuller wanted to be the one to guide the country out of its current mess. He didn’t want it to be the hero, he was fully sure it was far to late for history to see him as that. It as because he hated to leave a job unfinished.

However, there was little question anymore, fate was actively thwarting him at every turn. It felt almost like he was cursed. “Or someone’s fucking with you. And they’re incredibly good at hiding it.” He thought with a sigh.

Now with Jordon dead, he’d lost one of his few allies. Worse the country had lost the most qualified person to lead the team looking for a vaccine. DR. Ryan was in charge now, but there was something about the man that the president didn’t cotton too. When he called him to let the doctor know he would be running the show for the foreseeable future, Fuller was under the impression that the assignment would be temporary at best and Jordon would return once the Ryson mess was sorted.

The President sighed again. “So much for that idea.” He pushed the intercom.

“Yes Mr. President?” Magda answered.

“Can you get a message over to Def Sec Blakes office. We’re going to need a new military leader for the Greyson Project. I need him to gather a list of candidates and send it over for review by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll call down there right away.”

“Thank you, Magda.” He told her and clicked it off. Fuller leaned back in his chair and stared absently at the screen. He needed to call Jordon’s wife. Blake could handle notifying the other military families involved but the president felt he owed it to Charles to speak to his wife personally.

However, there was another call he needed to make first. He picked up the phone and dialed the number from memory. It rang twice before her heard “This is Director Ford.” On the other end.

“Ford, this is Fuller.”

“Mr. President!” Ford exclaimed, surprised to hear his voice on his private phone. “What can I do for you sir?”

“Your fired, Mr. Ford.” Fuller told him in a flat emotionless voice. “Pack your shit up and be out of your office by days end.”

“What? Fired? Mr. President…” Ford stammered.

“Don’t!” Fuller told him forcefully. “I warned you that if Jordon wasn’t in my office to it was going to be your ass.”

“But sir, it was a car accident…”

“I don’t care, Mr. Ford. You’re out!” Fuller repeated. He waited a moment to see if there would be any more arguments. When none came, he hung up feeling great satisfaction.

****************
7:30pm EDT FBI Headquarters:

Ford sat behind what was now his former desk, fuming. He was shocked considering the current climate in Washington that Fuller had taken the time to fire him personally. Normally he would have expected the National Security Advisor to make the call, but apparently, the Colonel being killed pissed Fuller off enough that he wanted to do it himself.

It wasn’t fair that the president blamed him personally for a traffic accident. It wasn’t like someone had planned it out, it was just an accident on a busy wet road. If he’d had the power to make things like that happen at this moment the roof of the White House would be caving in. Since it wasn’t it proved, to himself at least, that he had nothing to do with it. He pounded his fist on the desk, the former FBI head decided he wasn’t going to take this laying down.

Grabbing up his phone he dialed up Vice President Davis Carlyle’s personal phone. He sat fuming as he waited for it to be answered. Much to his frustration it went to voicemail. He rolled his eyes and growled into it “Carlyle This is Ford. Call me back right away!”
Hitting the end button, he looked around his spacious office, trying to decide what to take with him and what was trash. He was going to need a box too. Embarrassment burned inside him at the idea of asking his secretary, correction, former secretary, to find him one. The idea of having to explain he’d been fired mortified him.

He groused thinking about how Sarah was going to take the news. She’d grown accustomed to being the wife of a high ranking official. She was going to be more upset about losing that status than anything else. The loss of income wouldn’t even register on her, nor would his state of mind. It was going to be all about her, as usual. He silently wondered why he hadn’t divorced her ages ago. He knew the answer, she knew where all his bodies were buried, but still he wondered.

Ford felt himself starting to slip down the rabbit hole of anxiety and into a well of depression. His phone suddenly rang, pulling back from the brink for the moment. Looking at the number he answered immediately. “Carlyle, we have a huge problem!” he said urgently discarding all pleasantries.

“Ford?” Davis said in confusion. “What wrong?”

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong? He repeated in amazement. “Fucking Fuller just fired me that what’s fucking wrong!”

“He what?”

“You heard me. He fired me for Jordon getting killed in the accident on the bridge this afternoon! Like I had control over the weather or something.” Ford said in a rueful voice.

“Calm down, Ford.” Davis said trying to placate the FBI Director. “Did he have Simonson call you or something?”

“No, he called me himself. On my personal phone no less.”

Carlyle Davis grinned at the news. “That went well.” He thought to himself. Then to Ford he said, “Just relax, Walter. We will get this straightened out soon enough. Fuller won’t be occupying that seat for long.”

“You better fix this Davis, and fast. I might have to make a few phone calls if I don’t reinstated toot sweet. I’m sure the Post (Washington Post) would be very interested to know what’s been going on behind the scenes around here.” Ford threatened.

Carlyle stiffened at the threat. “That would be very unwise Walter.”

“It would be unwise for you to leave me twisting in the wind like this too!” Ford relied angrily.

“Walter, there’s nothing I can do today, but rest assured I will get this fixed. There’s no need for threats my friend.” Davis told him in an attempt to smooth out the situation. “Just go home for now. I’ll be in touch in the next couple of days and we’ll get you reinstated. As a matter of fact, don’t even clean out your office. Think of the next couple days as a paid vacation.”

“You better fucking fix it. You have until Monday. If I’m not back here by then I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll think I rammed a freight train up your ass!” Ford Hollard and hung up without waiting for a reply. He looked at the phone and said, “Asshole.”

Davis stood looking at his phone angrily for a moment after Ford hung up. He shook his head in disgust. Fuller firing Ford was inevitable after the accident, but he hadn’t expected tit to happen quite this quickly. Despite the timetable being screwed up slightly by it, Carlyle was delighted things had worked out so well.

The only question that remained was what to do about Ford and his threats. Even if he was inclined to meet Ford’s demands of reinstatement the timetable wasn’t going to fit. The time to pull the trigger on dethroning Fuller was close but he wasn’t going to be ready to do it by Monday.
With a mental shrug he picked the phone back up off the desk and dialed. “You brought this onto yourself Walter.” He thought as he waited for it to be answered,

**************
Some known amount of time later:

Walter Ford calmly floated in a sea of absolute darkness, his awareness slowly returning when the serenity was interrupted by a harsh beam of light. At first, he tried to push it away, but his arms didn’t seem to be very interested in responding, which didn’t make any sense. They had been working fine before but now they felt disconnected somehow. It was if his body and mind existed on different planes and there was no bridge between them.

The brightness of the light in his eyes served to only add to his confusion since it was dark out, last he remembered. As the seconds ticked by like hours, he began to realize there were voices as well behind the light. They made no sense at first but the longer he concentrated on the sounds the less muddled they became. Then the light returned, harsh, unyielding light, brighter than a thousand suns to his mind. At the same time, he felt something touching his face and tried again to push it away.

“Stay still please.” He heard a female voice say.

Walter tried to speak but his throat was so dry it only came out as a muffled croak. He tried to swallow but his throat was like sandpaper. It felt like it had been weeks since he’d had anything to drink.

Whoever it was attending him seemed to notice his distress. “I’m sorry can you say that again? I didn’t quite catch it.”

“W..w…water..” he whispered slightly louder.

“You’re going to need to open your eyes first sir.” The voice said.

Ford struggled to open them. His eyelids felt heavy as cement, like someone had glued them closed. After a few seconds of trying, they finally did as his mind commanded. Everything was so bright he slammed them shut immediately after. After a brief pause, he tried again, coming to half-mast and letting them adjust for a few moments.

The world was blur, but as time passed, he began to make out shapes. His female attendant leaned over the top of him. Her dark skin was a stark relief compared to the overwhelming brightness. She smiled at him as she handed him a Styrofoam cup with a straw in it. He tried to grab it but his arms still wouldn’t move.

“Here,” she said, “Let me hold it for you.” She angled the flexy straw so that it touched his lips. He puckered them and drank greedily from the straw. Water had never tasted so good or felt so soothing in his life. He felt she could drink gallons but after a pair of sips she pulled the cup away.

“Let’s give that a minute and see how your tummy takes it. We don’t want you throwing it up.” She said with her ever-present smile.

“Wh…where?” he asked. His mind felt like it was stuck in the mud. His thought process was slow and sludgy. Ford opened his eyes all the way while he waited for an answer. He was in some kind of a hospital room it seemed. The brightness was result of a tripod of large round lights that hung above his chest. He lifted his head as much as he could and gazed around the room. There was something funny about the door. It was raised off the floor with rounded edges.

“What’s your name sir?” The lovely black woman asked.

“W..Walter… Walter Ford.” He croaked. He really needed more water. “Where am I?” He asked a bit more stridently.

“You’re in the infirmary sir. You were unconscious when they brought you in.” she told him.

“Unconscious?” He knew what that word meant but he couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around the definition. “Why is it so hard to think?”

“The CAT scan we gave you when you arrived shows you have a pretty good concussion. That’s probably why you’re having such a hard time. We’ve given you something for it. You should start feeling better soon.”

“H.. has anyone told my wife that I’m in the hospital?” He asked as he blinked furiously trying to clear the cobwebs.

“Your wife? No sir, no one here calls anyone.” She told him with a look of concern on her face. “Maybe someone at the testing center did but I’d be surprised if that was the case. It’s not their usual M.O.”

“Testing center?” He asked. Whatever they’d given him was starting to take effect, his thoughts were gradually becoming clearer by the moment.

“What the last thing you remember Walter?” Another female voice asked from behind him.

Ford couldn’t see her but replied “I remember pulling up in front of my house. It was dark out, but the lights were on inside. I started up the path to the front door and then….”

“Then?” the same unseen voice asked.

“Then I was here. Wherever here is.” He shook his head a bit, trying to clear it.

“We told you already, you’re in the infirmary.”

“Yes, I understand that, but infirmary where?” He asked a bit indignantly. He was remembering who he was now. “I’m the director of the FBI in case you’re not aware. I want to know exactly where I am, and I need to make a phone call.”

The crowd behind his head began cackling like he’d just told the funniest joke they’d heard all day. It was obvious they were mocking him, which made him angry. The anger felt good; it was the first clear emotion he’d felt since waking up. “God damn it! I asked you where I was, and I expect an answer. I need to let my people know where I am!” He demanded.

“Honey, anyone that needs to know where you are knows. We don’t allow phone calls out of quarantine.” The smiling black nurse told him.

“Quarantine? What the hell am I doing in a quarantine?” He tried to sit up but for the first time realized he was strapped to the gurney he was laying on. He strained against them to no avail. “Why am I strapped down? Release me right this minute!” he demanded.

“No sir we will not be taking them off you until you calm down.” The unseen voice told him. “You are in the Montgomery county quarantine center. You are here because you’ve tested positive for the Acidalia virus.”

“Acidalia? What are you talking about? I was just evaluated at Walter Reed medical center two days ago. I’m virus negative. If you call my office…” he told them trying not to show the panic that was rising in him.

“Walter, you came in with a load of infected men from the Alexandria testing facility in Virginia. I don’t know anything about and texting at Walter Reed. I do, however, know that you are virus positive and that you are not going to be going anywhere. This is your new home until such a time the government decides you can be released.” The voice told him again.

“What? No. I’m the director of the FBI you stupid fucking cow!” he growled as he strained against his restraints yet again.

“Ok that’s it. Sedate him.” The voice said. “We’ll getting him worked up and drop him in transition cell.”

“No, no, no, no!! Please no..” he begged but the injection had been made, and his world faded off to black.

********************
Thursday Sept 24th 12:24am Far eastern California:

The night sky in the great Mojave desert was filled with more stars than she had ever seen before. The new woman could just lay down and look up at them all night long and never get tired of the view. Before becoming infected she would travel the country end to end and seen many of its sights, but business had never brought to this part of the great western desert.

The night air held a chill as it usually did in this land men had mostly forgotten. Eastern California was the second poorest place in the country. She vaguely remembered seeing a new report ages ago where someone had suggested making California into five separate states and how this part of it would have needed more federal living assistance than another other place outside West Virginia.

Despite the chill in the air, she felt warm inside. The work it seemed agreed wither and left her feeling centered emotionally. She wasn’t sure what they said about her, so she avoided thinking about it too deeply.

On the outside the little bit of warmth was being provided by the burning quarantine bus they had pushed to the side of the road earlier. It was a bonfire of epic proportions provided by gasoline from the fuel tank and the bodies of the dead. The smell of the guards and drivers burning bodies reminded her of a pig roast she had been to once during her first trip through childhood.

Being reverted was something Carol would never get used to but since joining up with Flints little group of terrorists she had found something of a new family. It was the closest thing to how it felt being with the sisters she had experienced since she left. She didn’t realize how much she’d missed the feeling until it returned. On top of having a “mother” and a “father she now had a sister in her best friend Maria. The four of them had knitted together into a nice little family unit within the larger family of their group.

“Carol?” She heard her name called. “Are you ok?”

“Oh, hey Yvonne.” She replied smiling at her pseudo mother. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just never been to this part of the country before. The sky is amazing. I used to love astronomy class back in the day.”

“It is amazing, that’s for sure.” The slender dusky skinned woman replied as she brushed her long black hair way from her face. They stood side by side for several minutes admiring the view. Finally, Yvonne said, “the vans are all packed up. We’re ready to take these people back to civilization.”

Their group had been out here in the desert all day long. Last week they had discovered that this lonely stretch of desert road was the route northern California was using to transport infectee’s to the newly opened Reno Quarantine, just over the state line in Nevada. With Reynolds burned to the ground and Dillan blown up all to hell thanks to Reverend Manning's people the authorities were running out of places to incarcerate Acidalia victims. The bus burning behind them was the third they had dealt with, and it was time to call it quits and bring the people they’d freed back to San Bernardino and set them on their way.

She kind of felt like a like a modern-day Robin Hood, but instead of robbing the rich she was stealing people away from a lifetime of government control and giving them their lives back. It felt good to help. Carol had enjoyed helping virus victims find a better way when she was with the Sisters. Working Yvonne and Michael Flint gave her a sense of purpose. The violence they inflicted on those that would seek to keep the innocent victims in what basically amounted to a prison, was just another perk of the job.

Since being forced to leave Ellie and Nicole, she’d been consumed by a seemingly endless pool of rage. How she burned with it every time she thought of them choosing Sam Greyson over her. The betrayal she felt cut deep.

She had told Flint the day she arrived she could find out where Greyson was hiding with just a phone call. He and Yvonne had loved the idea of taking her out. He had run the idea of going after her up the flagpole but, much to her chagrin, he had been told to sit tight. Apparently, someone in charge had some use for Greyson still.

Yvonne had been outraged, she wanted Greyson’s blood even more than Carol, but Michael had assured them both that when the time was right, their group would be the one sent to dispatch the inventor of the virus. That promise had pacified them both for the moment but how Carol longed for the day she would show back up and teach all three of them a lesson about loyalty they would never forget.

“Ok, let’s rock then.” She told Yvonne. The pair walked back to the road where the group of vans sat idling. Yvonne took Carols hand as they walked. She understood that the young-looking new woman wasn’t an actual child, but they had grown into a bit of a mother daughter type of relationship in the weeks since Carols arrival. Perhaps it was nothing more than being two of the only three women in the group that forged their bond at first. However, after spending time with her, Yvonne had come to love Carols spirit and toughness. Despite her size and childlike appearance, she was as fierce a fighter as anyone in the group.

The fact that they’d both grown close to Michael Flint only added to the feel of family. Yvonne too had missed that intimate familial connection with others. In the weeks since Michele and Melanie had been taken and the months since Thomas disappeared, she’d forgotten what it was like to be this close to others and feel loved. Michael despite his gruff exterior has been better to her than one since Thomas. While she missed her husband and children every day, each day they were separated, the loss dissipated a tiny bit. Slowly, but surely, she was recovering thanks mostly to Carol, Maria, and Michael.

The gradual healing did little to quell Yvonne’s desire for revenge, however. She took great relish in killing anyone associated with the people that has stolen her first and second families from her. She could never forgive those in power for what happened to Hillary Marko, Gail and the Summers sisters anymore then what happened to her patents, Thomas, and the girls. Because of the losses she had experienced she held her new family as close as she could. She knew in her heart she would kill anyone that tried to take it away or die trying before losing this one.

The ride back to San Bernardino was long and boring with nothing but pitch-black desert to look at for most of it. With a van full of new women and infected men, many sat stone still and quiet as mic, making Carol wonder what kind of horrors they had been subjected too before transport. Others mumbled to themselves or spoke words of thanks to their rescuers. One way in the back wailed loudly for god knew why but it would scare the shit out of everyone each time she started. A few, no matter how many times they were reassured they were going to be sent on their way once they reached the city, still refused to believe it. Carol assumed it was because they had been lied to by those in charge so many times, they didn’t believe anyone anymore.

Finally, after two hours on the road they arrived at a deserted section if the city. True to their word all their passengers were set free. Micheal and Roger, the leader of the other cell they had teamed up with for today’s mission, handed out envelopes containing two hundred dollars to each person to get them started. It wasn’t much but it was enough for a cheap motel or a bus ticket or a meal. Each former detainee was offered the opportunity to join up and get some revenge on those who sought to imprison them. Most declined just wanting to get back to wherever they called home but several agreed to stay on. Which was good because they had lost five members between the two groups during the assaults.

Mourning those lost while completely normal, was discouraged. Flint didn’t want members of the team to get too close to each other. They were all there to do a job that may cost any of them their life at any time. The constant joint threat was the perfect breeding ground for comradery and that was as far as the relationships should go. Of course, his current relationship with Yvonne, Maria, and Carol went completely against that principle, but no one is perfect.

Once the last of the freed prisoners was sent on their way the member of the cell returned to Flints’ residence which served as the group’s base of operations. The house was a largish two-story Spanish colonial with a giant oak tree at the front edge of the property. They had strategically placed their main planning room on the second floor directly behind the bulk of the tree to help prevent being overheard by handheld listening devices and directional mic’s. They parked the white cargo van at the end of the block and walked to the house.
It was extremely late when they walked through the threshold and into the living room. Carol was exhausted and plopped down on the first sofa she came to. No sooner had her butt landed when she was pounced by her best friend and pseudo sister Maria Sanchez. The two had met when Carol was living on the streets of San Francisco after parting ways with the Sisters. The pair had been arrested together and saved by the ever-mysterious Mr. Harkin and taken here. Since their arrival they had become all but inseparable.

“What up bitch?” Maria asked Carol after exchanging hugs with everyone.

“Not much. Tired AF is about it. Thinking it might be bedtime.”

“Bed? What do ya men? It’s only 3am. You’re such a wus.” The short thick bodied dark-haired girl teased.

“Yeah, well maybe if I’d been sitting home on my butt all night, I’d still be ready to party but some of us had to put in a full day’s work today. Gas, ass or grass baby, no one rides for free…yanno?” Carol retorted with a grin.

“Ya ya, ya, whut evaaa sista…” Maria said with a grin. “Not my fault I’m too pretty to go stand in the desert all night.” They laughed.

Yvonne and Michael sat on another sofa across the room and watched the two girls with bemused grins on their faces. The way she acted these days, you’d never know, Carol was actually in her mid-30’s. Lately increasingly she acted like the thirteen-year-old girl she appeared to be. Yvonne smiled to herself; it was good to see Carol beginning to accept her lot in life. With Maria’s help and friendship Yvonna was sure Carol was in good hands.

“Alight you two, there are people trying to sleep upstairs believe it or not, so how about we keep it to a dull roar?” Flint told them with mock sternness.

Maria, who was straddling Carol and tickling her turn and looked over her shoulder and said, “Yes dad.” as she stuck her tongue out at him.

“That’s it! Your grounded young lady!” Yvonne added in with a laugh.

“Aww man. It sucks around here!” Maria complained jokingly. “You two are so mean. If I knew who my real parents, were I’d so go back with them.”

“Ya, you never let us have any fun.” Carol chimed in as the four of the cackled like a bunch of hens.

“You all are too rowdy for me. I’m going to bed.” Dan Shamrock told them. The tall muscular black former UFC fighter told them as he stood.

“Ya, I think your right Dan, bedtime for all of us.” Yvonne agreed as she gave a quick wink at Flint. Nothing got her as worked up as killing those who worked to imprison virus victims. It was a strange kink for sure, but she couldn’t deny the erotic effect it had on her. She wondered what she was going to do once this was all over and there was no one left to kill.

Catching her hint Flint quickly agreed. “Yes, definitely, time for bed.” Carol started to complain but cut her off quickly. “No arguing. It’s a school night after all. You two should have been in bed hours ago.” He looked at Yvonne. “We’re such bad parents.”

“Mhm, we are.” She agreed but had no more interest in the conversation. She wanted him in bed right now and she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Recognizing the look on Yvonne’s face, Maria got off Carol and pulled at her arms. “Come on you, mom and dad need some alone time.” She pantomimed sex with her fingers.

“Ohhh..I see now. Sexy time for mommy and daddy. You two are really setting a terrible example for us kids. We’re far too young to be discussing sex around.” Carol said as she scampered by the couch they sat on. Yvonne took a playful slap at her butt on the way by, barely missing. “Neener, neener, neener” Carol said sticking her tongue out.

Flint started to get up and the two girls ran off and scampered up the steps. He laughed “Those two.”

Yvonne climbed to her feet. “They are a pair that’s for sure.” She sighed. “They are going to be quite the handful when this is all over and we try living a normal life. She looked up at him. He was considerably taller than she was. She loved his rugged good looks and deep red hair. “Ever think you’d end up a family man?”

“Nope. But life is full of surprises these days.” He looked at her with hungry eyes. She flashed him with a coy smile, took his hand and led him up the stairs.

*************
5:18am:

They lay together in bed, bodies entwined as the first rays of sunlight began to touch the horizon. As always after being with him Yvonne clung to the feeling of closeness that the post orgasm afterglow brought her. This is what she missed most about Thomas, laying together in satisfaction, naked bodies touching, the feeling of belonging. With Michael the connection she felt wasn’t quite that deep, but it was closer than anything she’d had in a very long time.

He turned his head and kissed her hair. “That was something tonight.” He told her.

“It’s been a long time since we had one go that smoothly. Losing Tony wasn’t great, but he was sort of an asshole anyhow.” She replied.

Flint laughed. “Yeah, he was a bit of a dink, but he was a dink that could shoot straight.”

“Not tonight he couldn’t.” she reminded him.

Tony had come to join their group a couple weeks before Yvonne arrived. He was a self-described patriot. He had very little use for women, gays, minorities, basically anyone that wasn’t white and male. Despite his social faults, the former militia member was a terrific fighter. He was a living contradiction in that he was someone that had your back during a battle even if he had very little use for you any other time. Yvonne had argued with him over his caveman like beliefs more times than she could count. He’d always been taken aback by her being a “mouthy broad”. She was sure if it hadn’t been for Flint’s presence Tony would have just given her a back hand and left it at that.

“Yeah, was a tough break for him.”

“His remains mixed in the guards will give the coroners people a nice little curve ball though. Wonder how long it will take them to figure out who he was.”

“Probably not long.” Flint replied distractedly.

She looked at him curiously then propped herself up on an elbow. “What’s wrong?”

“Hmm? Nothing. Why?”

“Don’t bullshit me. I know you well enough to see the gears turning in your head. What’s going on in there?” She asked as she poked his forehead gently with her index finger.

He was silent for a bit. So quiet she became concerned that he wasn’t going to tell her. She had never seen him so reluctant to speak his mind before. “Come Mike, tell me what’s up.” She prodded.

“I was watching Carol and Maria downstairs earlier and…I don’t know was wondering what kind of life we’re giving them.” He said quietly.

“Have you ever considered what it would be like to leave all this killing and the rest of the bullshit behind and have a normal life?”

“A normal life?” She asked sarcastically. “Want to live in a Norman Rockwall painting, do you?” She smiled at him.

He laughed. “No but, look we know Carol’s not really a kid but the longer she’s here the more she’s been acting like one. Maria is a kid. She’s too young to be involved with this shit, that’s why I won’t let her come with us when we’re doing the job.”

“I know.”

“I was just kind of wondering what it would be like for the four of us to leave all this and just be normal people, a family.” He told her with a slightly embarrassed look on his face.

“Want a nice little house in the suburbs with a 9-5 job and a golden retriever?” she laughed.

“Yep. White picket fence and the whole nine. With you by my side of course.”

Yvonne settled back in next to him. For a while they lay silently next to each other contemplating the what ifs. Finally, Yvonne spoke. “It is a lovely dream. Hopefully some day we can live it.”

“The only thing stopping us is us.” He said seriously.

Yvonne Logan lifted up and looked down at him. “Your serious about this?”

“I am.” He replied truthfully.

She shook her head. “Why? We can’t just walk away. This is our life now.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Yes, Michael, it does. There are so many left that deserve to be punished for what’s happened and continues to happen. We can’t just walk away and go and go off and play house with our heads buried in the sand.” She said. She was getting angry now.

“Calm down, will ya? God I was just saying we could.” He could feel his temper starting to rise.

“Calm down? Calm down?” She hollered furiously. “You fucking calm down. You’re the fucking one laying all this on me all of a sudden!”

“Jesus. It was just an idea for fucks sake!” He yelled loudly back to her. “I just wanted us to be together, all of us. I want us all to live through this and be there for each other. Is that so fucking bad?”

There was a knock on the door. From the other side Carol voice said, “Are you two alright?” She pushed the door open enough to see the two of them on the bed.

“Go back to bed it’s fine.” Flint snapped at her.

“No Carol don’t go back to bed. Matter of fact come on in. This concerns you too.” Yvonne countered. Flint glared at her angrily for bringing someone else into what had been their discussion.

Carol caught a glimpse of his look and asked, “Are you sure?”
“
Yes. One hundred percent sure.” Yvonne answered cutting Flint off before he could say anything.
The young new woman shrugged and pushed the door all the way open and stepped in. “What are you two fighting about?”
“Michael wants to take you Maria and me and leave!” Yvonne said. Her voice was brimming with anger.

“Leave? And go where?” Carol asked confused.

“Go live in the suburbs. Right Mike? Give up on all the people we’re saving and just walk away!”

“All the people we’re saving?” He said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Is that the route you’re going to go? You know very well you don’t give a flying fuck about the victims. You like the killing. The revenge. You want the entire world to pay for what’s happened to you. For you’re kinds and husband disappearing!”

He sighed. He was angry with her but saw this wasn’t going to end well if it went on any longer. He took a deep cleansing breath and admitted in a much quieter tone. “I..I just thought a normal quiet life would save us. That’s all.”

“Save us?” Yvonne retorted. “Save us from what?”

“Ourselves.” He replied quietly. He looked at Yvonne then over at Carol hoping they’d see the sincerity in his eyes. Seconds ticked by in silence.

“I’m not ready to leave this either.” Carol finally said. “I have too much I need to see done. Killing Sam Greyson chief among them. Maybe once she’s dead then I can think about moving on but not until then.”

“See?” Yvonne told him. “She doesn’t want to go either!”

“Fine.” Flint replied in surrender. “Sorry I mentioned it. God. You would think by your reaction that i was asking you to give up a limb or something. I love you both. I just wondered about a better life for us all. I won’t bring it up again.” He got up out of bed and pulled a shirt over his head.

“Where are you going?” Yvonne demanded.

“I’m going downstairs to sleep on the couch.” He replied grabbing his pillow.

“Mike..”

“No save it. I see where you both stand. It’s all good. We’ll just keep on wading in blood til your both satisfied.” He walked out of the room slamming the door behind him. In the hallway stood the rest of the team. “What are you all looking at? Fuckin show’s over. Go back to bed.”
He pushed his way past everyone and headed for the living room trying to remember which couch was the most comfortable.

Carol stood in the room staring at Yvonne who sat on the bed looking just as lost as the young new woman felt. After several minutes of silence, she turned and walked out of the room, closing the door gently behind her. The second-floor hallway was empty, though she could hear muffled voices coming from the living room. She continued down the short hallway to the room she shared with Maria. She opened the door trying to be quiet, but she saw Maria was up still and quickly gave up on trying to be stealthy.

“What as that all about?” Maria asked.

“Yvonne and Mike got in a fight.” Carol replied, not wanting to get into it.

“Ya I heard. What was the beef?”

Carol let out a sigh. “I guess Mike suggested that the four of us leave and go away together.”

“Go away? Like on a vacation or something?”

“No. Like leave and never come back. Go off somewhere and be a happy family, the four of us.” Carol explained.

Maria was quiet for a moment while she considered. “That doesn’t really sound all that terrible to me. I’ve never really had a real family. Might be cool.”

Carol nodded. “Well cool or not, Yvonne shot the idea down.” Carol replied. “I kind of did too.”

“You did? Why?” Maria asked.

“Cause there’s too much to do here still.” The brown-haired girl replied.

“Too much? What is so important?”

“I…I …I …it’s hard to explain.”

“Well, bestieface maybe start with one word and follow it with a second and see where it all leads.” Maria suggested with a smile.
Carol blew a breath of air out and shook her head. “How to explain?” She tossed a few different lies around her head knowing they would all sound hollow and fake. Eventually, she said “Fuck it. I’m not thirteen. I’m thirty-seven.”

“Ya, right” Maria replied giggling at what she assumed was a joke.

“No joke babe. I’m thirty-seven and my real name is Carlos.”

Maria stared at her as if waiting for the punch line. When none came, she turned more serious and asked “Acidalia?”

Carol nodded slowly. She could feel her eyes starting to well up.

“Damn girl. That’s kinda fucked up.”

“Ya.” was all Carol could think to reply. A tear leaked down her right cheek and she silently cursed herself. She was so scared that Maria was going to walk out or something that she couldn’t hold her emotions back.
Maria gave her a commiserating look, got up and hugged the new woman. Carol felt helpless to stop and just let the tears come. Maria held her
best friend tight while Carol’s body shook against her. After a few minutes Carol pushed back. Maria let go of the embrace. “Are you gonna be ok?”

“Need a tissue.” The brown-haired girl turned away and searched for a box of tissues in the dark. She took more time than it should have but she was afraid to see the look on Maria’s face. The thought of losing the one real friend she had terrified her.

When she finally found one, she turned back and saw Maria had taken a seat back on her bed. The long, black-haired girl was looking at her with so much compassion it almost got her crying restarted. “Come sit.” Maria beckoned.

Carol stepped across the small room and sat down.

“Now tell me.” Maria said.

“Tell you what?”

“Oi bitch. Don’t play dumb with me. Tell me how this happened and why you gotta stay here. Duh. What do you think?” She playfully slapped Carol's leg.

“I really don’t want to.”

“I don’t really give a fuck.” Maria told her bluntly. “Ya can’t just drop that shit on me and then say I don’t wanna talk about it. Not how it works, bitch, So spill.” Her words were stern, but her voice was gentle and friendly. At that moment Carol never loved anyone so much in her life.

“I was visiting San Francisco when the outbreak first started. I was here on a business trip, and I caught it. I was sicker than I’d ever been in my whole life and when I woke up, I looked like this.”

Maria nodded for her to continue.

Carol sighed loudly. “So, I got chased out of the hotel I was staying in, cause no one believed I was who I claimed. Acidalia wasn’t well known at the time and even I couldn’t believe what had happened to me. I wound up wandering the streets for a couple days until I found this deserted warehouse. It was so gross and disgustingly dirty, but it was shelter.”

“Not exactly the Hilton huh?”

“Ya, real shit hole.” Carol replied with a small laugh. “Anyhow, after a couple days of staying there these two women showed up and were looking the place over I tried to hide but the big red head one, Nicole, she’s got crazy powers from her change, she found me.” Carol shook her head. “So, her and the other new woman, Ellie was her name, they took me in. We called ourselves the Sisters of Acidalia.”

“Oh, I heard of them. Saw their posters and stuff a while back.” Maria said. “You ran with them huh?”

“Yeah. We were like one big giant do-gooder family for a long time.”

“How come you’re not still with them then?”
“The warehouse we lived in got raided by the army. Most of the people living there either got caught, got killed or sent to quarantine. I was lucky enough to escape with Ellie and this other lady Vera along with a few others. Two of the enhanced girls that lived with us, Nicole, and Wendy, sacrificed themselves and bought us time so we could escape by attacking the soldiers. They wound up getting caught while we escaped.” She explained.

“After that we kind of hid out for a while before we met up with this doctor, Mia who set us up in the first place along with Vera, but she had connections to the army and could get us into see the guy in charge. She took Ellie to see him and somehow, she convinced this Col. Jordon to let Nicole and Wendy go. As a bonus they got Greyson released cause she was Dr. Blue’s daughter now or something.”

“How’d ya do that?”

“I don’t really know. Ellie did it. She’s…influential. When you’re with Ellie it’s like the sun’s shining on you all the time. I don’t really know how to describe it. Anyhow when we got Nicole and Wendy back this other girl Sam came with them as I said before.” Carol swallowed hard before continuing. “I didn’t know it for a little while, but it turned out Sam was the one that invented the stupid fucking bug in the first place.”

“No fuckin way!” Maria exclaimed. “She invented it? Like on purpose and stuff?”

“No, it was an accident but, it fucked my life up big time as you can see.”

“Ya no doubts. So, what happened then? Did you kick her ass?”

“No, I wanted to though. So, so, so, bad. I told Ellie and Nicole I couldn’t stay there if Sam was going to be around. It was just too much to ask.”

“Make sense. Then what happened.”

Carol bit her lip. She could feel the water works wanting to restart. “Fricken estrogen.” She thought to herself. “They…ummm… chose her.”

“They what?”

“They said they couldn’t turn her away.” Carol said with great sadness. “You see, they are happy with what happened to them. They wanted to be women, and the bug is like a god send to them. They love Sam for what she did.”

“Tranny’s huh?”

“I guess. Anyway, I told then it was her or me and as you can see, I’m not with them anymore, so easy to see who they chose.” Tears were leaking from her eyes again.

“Aww babe. That’s so fucked up they did that to you. After you were with them for so long and stuff.”

“Ya it hurt, still does.” Carol admitted. “I can’t leave here cause this is the best opportunity I have to kill Sam Greyson for what she did to me. If I just walk away, like Mike wants, it would be like betraying Carlos’ memory.”

Maria nodded. “I can’t say I know what you went through, what it felt like but you’re my bitch now and if you need to stay and finish this out, I’m with ya babe.”

For the first time in a while Carol looked her friend in the eye. Her heart was overflowing with gratitude. Even in her previous life she’d never had a friend like Maria. “Are you sure?” she asked just to verify.

“Of course. Besties forever, yanno? Where you go, I go. When all this shits done and finished then we can go and play house with Yvonne and Michael. They ain’t half bad for parental types.”

Carol smiled. “Ya, there ok. Though I never thought I’d go back to living with my parents. Ugg!”

“So…ummm, since your thirty whatever, does that mean you can buy beer at the liquor store?” Maria asked with a wicked grin.

Carol cracked up laughing. After a minute she replied, “I left my ID at the hotel when they threw me out. Don’t think they would believe it was me now anyhow.”

“Fuckers.” Maria replied with a laugh. “I love ya bitch.” She got up and hugged Carol tight.

“I love you too bitch.”

********************
4pm PDT Oakland Ca:

They had cruised around the mostly deserted industrial park for a long while checking every abandoned looking building the came across for signs of life but had no luck. Harkin was positive Manning was hiding out there someplace, however, if the Reverend was there, he wasn’t leaving his hidey hole. A couple of times they thought they might be on to something only to have the vehicle they were following pull into one of the few places that were still in business. As the afternoon wore on Harkin’s frustration grew almost as fast as his irritation with Paka’s constant commentary on the situation. More than one he wished he’d left her behind.

Finally hunger won over determination, and they headed back into the city proper looking for a place to grab a bite and to reassess the plan. The break from driving didn’t equate to beak from Paka’s mouth, however. For the entire meal break was filled with her endless chatter and criticism over their lack of progress in finding their quarry. At one point he had gotten up to use the men’s room and contemplated sneaking out and leaving her. However, responsibility, and fear of what she’d do to the small dinner they were eating in when she found out he was gone, the poor staff had done nothing to deserve that, won out. With a sigh he headed back to the table and finished their meal.

When they were done the pair headed back to Harkin’s SUV parked around the street side of the restaurant. He wanted to take another look at the map of the industrial area they’d been cruising to see if there was anything they had missed earlier. As they were climbing in an olive-green van with blue government plates on it that Harkin recognized drove by.

“I think out luck might be changing. Get in.” he told her turning the truck over.

“The van?”

"Yeah. Come on let’s go!” He demanded. Paka climbed in and they were off.

Grabbing a quick left out of the parking lot, they drove for three blocks before they finally caught up to the van. The traffic was light, like always these days. It wasn’t easy to stay behind the van and not look like they were following it. Eventually after serval trips around various blocks surrounding the area the driver led them right back to the industrial park, they’d been cruising an hour before.

“Looks like your instinct was right.” Paka said.

“Ya, sometimes you get lucky.”

They slowed as the van entered the park. There was even less traffic than on the streets at this time of day, leaving them with very little to blend in to. Not wanting to be obvious they drove past the entrance and turned around in a lot about half a block down. They waited there until Harkin counted to ten then drove back to the entrance Harkin took a left turn onto the main road. He drove slower than he probably should have but he didn’t want to take the chance of not seeing the van if it had pulled off somewhere.

“Come on you mother fucker. Where did ya go?” He muttered to himself as they went down the road.

“There!” Paka said excitedly as she pointed down a small side street on the right as they went past.

Harkin went down another half a block before he pulled a quick U-turn and doubled back. To his relief the van was still there waiting to make a turn at the end of the block. It took a left turn just as they pulled down the same street. Harkin too his time driving down the block, there wasn’t enough traffic that he could see for them not to be noticed if the driver was looking in the rearview mirror, so keeping a big distance between
them seemed to be the best plan. When they arrived at the intersection, they watched the van turning into a lot two blocks down.

“What’s he up to?” Harkin asked himself a the headed in that direction. They continued on past the lot entrance and took a look at the building it surrounded. It was very long and narrow, made of some kind of corrugated metal. Far down the side the van was parked with the passenger’s door open.

"We might have found them.” Harkin told Paka. He took second right down and parked in a lot that had a few other cars in it. They drove in and parked among the half dozen cars. “I’m going to go scout it out and see what’s what. Wait here for me.” He said as he unbuckled his belt.

“Oh, bull shit!” She exclaimed climbing out. “You promised me some fun. Screw you stay here! I’m coming with you!”
He looked at her and found he couldn’t hide his annoyance any longer. “For fucks sake. Will you do what the fuck I tell you just once? One
person is far less likely to be spotted than a whole troupe.”

“The two of us hardly qualifies as a whole troupe. Besides, I’m small. They’ll hardly notice me, especially if I stay behind you.” She grinned.
He shook his head as considered just shooting here in this spot and being done with it. Pushing the fantasy aside he understood that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Fine. Let’s go.” He told her as he started across the lot.

They walked at a casual pace down the street, trying to look like anything but what they were. With no one else to seen it was hard to pull off incognito though. The sun was just beginning to set so their shadows were long behind them. Paka, looking obviously wired and ready to pounce, didn’t help any.

After a few minutes they came to the building the van had parked next to. The lot was something less than ideal for stealth. It was wide open with no cars, trees or really anything they could use for cover. He stopped, got down on one knee like he was tying his shoelace and surveyed it, trying to decide what was the best way to approach.

From behind Paka poked his shoulder. He waved her off impatiently. She poked him again and he turned angrily saying “For fucks sake what?”
Paka was standing behind him with her hands in the air. Behind her was four of the Reverend’s men holding what Harkin recognized as an army M16 rifles.

“Well fuck.” He said as he started to get up. Before he could utter another word, he felt a sharp pain on the back of his skull and the world went black.

*************
Confirmed cases: 124,632,451

Actual cases:171,639,442

End part XX

As always, Thank you so much for taking the time to read my lil transgender dystopia. Please leave a comment, let me know what you liked or what you disliked.
Hugs,
Amanda