Tainted Reality (The Rememdium Series Book 2) (17 page)

“Thanks for explaining. So, now I’m an emotional zombie and a killer. Nice.”

Everett threw his hands up in desperation. “Who’s the martyr now? Look, can we just forget you found me wallowing in sorrow like a lost goat, and my woefully inadequate ability to express my thoughts on the subject? I’ve got more studying to do before Porterfield and Warton return.”

Dirk followed Everett inside the lab. He walked over to the workstation where Everett left numerous medical books on the table. Picking up
Essentials of Glycobiology
by Nizet and Esko, Dirk’s lips moved as he read.

“Glycan-binding receptors, initial colonization, epithelial surfaces? Is this even in English?”

The humorous comment was Dirk’s way of showing he’d accepted Everett’s apology. At least, Everett hoped it was. He was still learning how to read the man. “As you mentioned earlier, I’ve got to man-up and figure out what’s going on, right? The best way to start, in my opinion, was to reacquaint myself with infectious diseases.”

Dirk handed the heavy book back to Everett. “Good thing you’re here, because if the world’s survival depended upon us grunts, we’d be toast.”

Kevin Warton lowered the binoculars and sighed.

“What is it?” Porterfield asked.

“Here. See for yourself,” Kevin responded, handing the lenses over. “Words just won’t do.”

Kevin looked down from their perch on the large set of boulders. They’d scoured the area around the cave for hours after venturing over to the smoldering remains of the jet. When they arrived, there wasn’t much left other than scorched trees, earth, and about a four-foot section of the tail. They looked around for any signs of bodies, yet found none. It was just sheer luck the machine slammed into an outcropping of shale or the entire area would be engulfed in flames.

“Jesus, this is worse than we thought,” Porterfield whispered. “The smoke is really heavy toward Little Rock and Conway. Wonder if it’s from them or us?”

Kevin chortled. “Does it really matter? Destruction is destruction, no matter if the living or dead caused it.”

Porterfield handed the binoculars back and Kevin stuffed them into his pack. “How far do you think we’ll need to travel before we find us one? Didn’t see any movement.”

“Probably because they’re too busy eating.”

“There’s a pleasant thought. And here I thought I was the one with the sick, twisted mind.”

Kevin shrugged his shoulders. “Just stating obvious facts, dude.”

Crouching down on the rock, Kevin extracted two bottles of water. He passed one to Porterfield, each taking a few sips while staring at the western sky. The sunset was magnificent, full of an array of colors.

Kevin wished it was a sign of better times to come, yet knew the desire was a waste. “It’s a shame we couldn’t find a useful body in the wreckage. Guess that would’ve been too easy. Then again, none of them may have been sick.”

“Oh, come on! Of course one of them was. Why else would they have crashed?”

“Pilot error. Equipment malfunction. Medical emergency. Pick one.”

Porterfield snorted. “Whatever. My gut tells me otherwise.”

“Your gut isn’t always right. Remember that time in Afghanistan?”

“Stop using that debacle as a weapon against me. I simply miscalculated. No harm, no foul.”

“Uh-huh. I don’t buy it, and neither did our commander. Doubt those civvies who died would, either.”

“Lay off, will you? We’ve got more important things to think about than something that happened years ago,” Porterfield whined.

“You’re right. Sorry. Let’s just enjoy this sunset. Might be the last one we see for a while.”

The conversation ended and for the next ten minutes, they watched the orange orb sink into oblivion. After the last rays of pink, blue, and yellow disappeared, a heavy sense of dread filled Kevin’s mind.

“You came down pretty hard on Dr. Berning earlier. When are you going to learn a show of might doesn’t go as far as a softer touch?”

“Jesus, Warton. How well do you know me? I’m the same person I’ve always been, just edgier since all this happened. Time for changing these old spots is over.”

“As long as you’re breathing, change is always possible.”

“Wow—when did you start reading liberal pamphlets? Make a trip to Berkley I didn’t know about?”

“I’m just suggesting you go a bit easier on the old man. He did, after all, figure out a cure for drug addiction, which no one else ever did. If anyone can solve what’s going on, I’m putting all of my money on his number.”

Porterfield laughed. “I’ll continue to let you be the soft one. Somebody’s got to play the heavy. Enough of this topic. Have you tried the radio again?”

Kevin shook his head. “Not since we came topside.”

“Try one more time,” Porterfield urged.

Reaching his hand down into the pack, Kevin felt around for the radio. He pulled it out and turned it on to channel sixteen. “Mayday, mayday, anyone copy?”

Nothing.

Kevin’s heart sank.

“Guess we really are on our own,” Porterfield mumbled. “Can’t believe the world is ending and we don’t even know why.”

“Uh, we’re still here, which means others are, too. As long as someone is still breathing, the fat lady hasn’t belted out her last tune.”

“Hippy-talk. Say, now that we’re alone, wanna tell me why you lied earlier?”

There wasn’t much light from the rising moon, yet Kevin could see the distrust in Porterfield’s eyes. “Come again?”

“Your brother-in-law? The Secret Service guy in D.C.?” Porterfield used air quotes. “You don’t have a sister, which is a requirement to have a brother-in-law. Who were you really talking to?”

Heat filled Kevin’s cheeks as he kicked himself mentally for not covering his tracks better. For years, he’d kept the secret hidden from everyone, including his parents, who died without ever knowing the truth. Given the current situation, it seemed trivial and pointless.

“It wasn’t a lie. I was talking to my brother-in-law. He was married to my brother, Kent.”

Even in the darkness, Kevin could see Porterfield’s jaw drop. “You have a gay brother?”

“Had. He died five years ago. He was an agent, too, and feared he’d lose his job if the brass found out he was gay. Jerry—that’s who I was talking to—and I remained friends after Kent passed away. I was the only connection to Kent’s family he had.”

“Nice of you to support him. Not many would. Don’t know if I could. Wait, not true. I wouldn’t be able to get past…uh…certain things.”

“To each their own. Thanks for not calling me out on it in front of the others. Guess it really doesn’t matter anymore, but old habits die hard.”

“No worries. I’ve always got your back.”

Unwilling to discuss the subject any longer, Kevin stood. “Let’s get moving. Probably should head south, toward the closest town. Trekking through these woods in the dark is going to take a while.”

“Wait,” Porterfield said, rummaging through his own pack. “Let’s take a look at what’s inside this little box before we go. Might have some intel we could use.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you found something at the crash site? We should’ve looked through this while the sun was still out!”

“Excuse me for not thinking straight,” Porterfield huffed. “Apocalypse brain fart.”

Kevin smiled. Porterfield had a wicked sense of humor. He yanked the flashlight from the clip on his belt and shined it down into the box. “So, what…seriously? That’s all? Two cigars, a crumpled piece of paper and some blow?”

“You know those flyboys—they like to party. End-of-mission rewards and probably a love note from one of their many honeys. The cigar I get—the coke I don’t. When did they stop testing pilots for drugs in the military?”

“Beats me,” Kevin said, extracting a cigar. Rolling it in his fingers, he brought it to his nose and inhaled. “Oh, this is a good one. Cuban, I think. Shall we, you know, before we head out?”

“Why not? Like the sunset, it might be the last ones we come across in a long time.”

Kevin felt around in his pack for matches. His fingers latched around the small box when he heard Porterfield snort. Shocked, Kevin glanced over and said, “You didn’t. Why?”

Rubbing his nose, Porterfield took another hit. “Why not? Waste not, want not, right? Besides, being wired will help keep me on my toes. Care to join me? It’s no fun being high alone.”

“Pft. No way. Never liked the stuff, and if Dirk finds out—oh, he’s gonna beat your ass. May I remind you we worked for a doctor whose family died because of that shit and started a project to end addiction?”

Porterfield laughed. “Wow, come on down from that lofty mountain of superiority you’re sitting on, Warton! Recall, we are living in a world full of dead people wandering around. Life could be over any minute. You’re smoking a cancer stick, so what’s the difference?”

“Nicotine won’t cloud my judgment or ability to think when confronted by one of those walking corpses. That’s the difference.”

“Pussy.”

Kevin’s anger flared. “I lost my brother to that poison, asshole. Kent used it as a crutch to deal with hiding his lifestyle from the world, and it killed him. That’s why I came onboard when Dirk approached me. You’re the pussy. Only the weak need something to help them cope with stress.”

Porterfield ignored the comment and tapped out another line. Annoyed at his stupidity, Kevin didn’t want to watch him get high, so he decided to read the note crammed inside the box. “Take it easy, fool. Don’t want you to fry those few remaining brain cells in your noggin. I’ll need help carrying back our guest, once we find one.”

Careful not to tear the thin paper, Kevin smoothed out the crinkled edges on his lap. The handwritten note was hard to read for the words looked like they’d been penned by a ten-year-old:

“When the high from the sky ends, this will keep you going! Merry Christmas from your friend across the border!”

“Nice. What a way to keep diplomatic relations open,” Kevin muttered.

Porterfield stood and yanked his pack up onto his shoulder. “Time to go! Let’s go find us a nice, gooey one for Dr. Berning. I’d bet a hundred bucks he passes out when he sees it!”

“That was quick. Stuff must be good,” Kevin spat out, angry Porterfield made such a stupid choice. “Fine, but I’ll lead the way. It’ll force you to slow down. Oh, and you’re on. Dr. Berning won’t pass out—he’ll puke. Guaranteed.”

Both men laughed as they climbed down the boulders and made their way through the forest. Kevin’s skin crawled. Lack of noise made him wonder if animals were also susceptible to whatever disease lurked about.

“Damn! This stuff is amazing. Haven’t felt like this in years,” Porterfield said.

“Stop talking and keep walking. We’ve got several miles to traverse until we reach the nearest town.”

“I’m serious, dude! You should try some!”

“Your brain cells are diminishing quickly. I already told you why I won’t. Remember?”

“You’re missing out! The only thing that would make this experience better is a hot blonde with an insatiable libido to fuck until dawn! God, this takes me back to my college days!”

Kevin ignored him and kept walking, rifle slung over his shoulder. To his right, he heard leaves crackle as something big moved through the woods. His hand instinctively fell to the handgun holstered on his hip. He pulled it out and motioned for Porterfield to stop.

“What’s wrong?”

“Shhh. Didn’t you hear that?”

Porterfield cocked his head in confusion. “That buzzing sound? You heard it too? Thank God, thought it was just me.”

“No,” Kevin whispered as the leaves continued to crackle. “That.”

“I…don’t…hear…oh, man. My chest.”

Porterfield collapsed onto his knees, clutching his heart. The noise from the woods picked up speed, heading west away from the duo. Kevin felt a sense of relief when he heard a loud snort, recognizing the sound of a deer when signaling danger to others.

“I told you not to hit it so hard. How long’s it been since you tortured your system with coke?”

“Too…long…God, my heart is racing,” Porterfield mumbled.

Kevin returned his gun to the holster and removed the pack. He grabbed a bottle of water and a protein bar. “Here, drink some and take a few bites. When was the last time you ate?”

“Breakfast.”

Rolling his eyes, Kevin shoved the protein bar into Porterfield’s shaking hand. “Idiot! Eat. Right now.”

Porterfield took a bite, chewed, swallowed, then promptly fell onto all fours and threw it back up. Kevin backed away from the torrent of vomit. “Damn, Thomas! I told you to be careful! Come on, you need to walk this off.”

“Fuck you,” Porterfield hissed.

Watching someone else throw up always made Kevin fight the temptation to join them. Though angry at Porterfield for bringing this on himself, he also found it sort of funny. “Okay, finish puking that shit out of your system then let’s head back to the cave.”

“You…smell…so…good.”

The words were almost unintelligible. Kevin’s chest tightened as his internal alarm something was wrong went off. He broke out into a cold sweat and backed away from Porterfield several steps. After taking the fourth step, the hairs on his back, neck, and arms popped up when Porterfield raised his head and growled.