The APOCs Virus (31 page)

And they were off.

"You never did say how I got here?"  Bill asked.

"Heard some shooting real close, then my wife and that Abaddon fella dumped you back here.  Nearly threw you right on top of me.  Thought you were dead 'cause I couldn't hear you anymore—the buzzing that is."

"So where's Abaddon now?"

Henry looked toward the front of the bus, "I reckon he's the one driving this heap."

"We need a plan," Bill said.

"I got me a plan," Henry said suddenly looking morose.  "How you feel 'bout dying?"

"DYING?  Christ almighty man, I just came back from the dead.  What are you planning to do?"

"Blow this popsicle stand."

The erratic driving nearly tipped Bill over.  "Holy shit, what's he doing up there?  Trying to qualify us for the Indy 500?”  Bill said.

The frame of the $1.5 million dollar Provost tour bus was the same as a Greyhound bus, but that’s where the similarities ended.  The tour bus had a special Volvo D-13 turbo engine and built in electronic stability that made it twice as fast and twice as maneuverable as its Greyhound third-cousin.  The driver’s seat looked like the command chair for the space shuttle.  Abaddon sat behind the wheel and Nattie Pigott was in the seat next to him.

“So how this part of your plan?”  Nattie asked.  Her eyes were half closed and she looked perfectly relaxed and peaceful.

Abaddon on the other hand looked frantic.  He was either hitting people or plowing into slower moving cars.  The front bumper of the Provost was bloodied and bashed.  He pulled his eyes from the road and looked at her incredulously.  

“Bitch, what are you talking about?”

Nattie’s half-hooded eyes flew open.  Abaddon had cursed at other people, but never her.  Occasionally he talked dirty during sex, but that was cute.  

“How is this part of your plan to take over the world.  Everything has been so well planned out right up until the rain started.  I guess I’m not blessed enough to know why it seems we’re running away.”

Abaddon turned hard to avoid hitting two slow moving cars and smacked into the rear of a minivan with a baby-on-board sticker in the back window.  The minivan spun to the side and a freeway lane opened in front of them.  He stomped on the accelerator. 

“Are you fucking retarted?”  Abaddon asked.  He started to laugh, then it turned into maniacal laughter. “We
are
running away, our plan has turned to shit.”

The words hit her like a slap across the face.  “But, but you’re Abaddon.”

This reinvigorated the laughter in Abaddon until he caught sight of the Blackhawk helicopter in the outside rear-view mirrors.

They felt the bus accelerate.

"Hey gramps, before you blow us up mind looking out the window and telling me where we're at?"

Henry struggled to his feet and looked out the rear of the bus.  He spoke without turning around, "Little tough to see—cause of the rain and the dark, but looks like we're on the expressway.  Wait . . . there's a cop car behind us—what the hell?  Holy crap!”  Henry yelled as he dove to the floor.

An immense explosion nearly rocked the bus up on two wheels.

"WHAT WAS THAT?"  Bill asked, knocked over on his side.

"There's a helicopter out there firing missiles at us," Henry said, not taking his head up from the floor.  

The hellfire missile blew a two-lane section of the expressway in front of the bus to gravel.

A whoosh, then KA-BOOM!  It was the sound of second explosion, not hitting the bus but exploding somewhere ahead of it.  They fell forward as the big Provost’s brakes locked up.  Both Henry and Bill could feel the back end of the bus swinging around in a skid.  It finally came to a halt.

"Come on," Bill shouted.  He stood and ripped the flat screen TV off the wall and tossed it through the window above the bed.  "This is our chance to get out of here.  Set that bomb of yours to blow, but give us three minutes to get out of here."  They bounded off the bed, through the window and hit the pavement running.

“That was close.”  Abaddon said. “Nattie, I don’t need you freaking out on me now.”  When she cried she especially reminded him of his mother.  All of a sudden, it did matter what she thought about him.

“It’s just that you promised, promised everything.”  Nattie said through her tears.

“Don’t put so much pressure on me, I’m just one man.”

The words struck her like another, harder slap.  “But you said, you promised . . . I left my husband for you.”

They didn’t hear glass shatter in the rear sleeping quarters.

He straightened the bus and quickly accelerated away.

"Hand me those glasses, and no more missiles!"  Admiral Prescott said.  "Two people just got out of the bus.  Take us down.  I want to get a better look."

"Sir the bus is moving again," the pilot said as the helicopter started to descend.

"Don't worry about that now!  Just take me down where I can see.  Damn they're moving pretty fast . . . "

"Sir, the bus is entering the tunnel—"

"Shit!  It's him!  Take this bird down!"

“Nattie, come back here.”  Abaddon turned in his seat and tried to plead with Nattie as she ran toward the back of the bus.  He was driving at a little over a hundred miles an hour as he entered the long approach to the Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel.

She disappeared into the rear bedroom and then reappeared a minute later carrying a large duffel bag.  The bus was on the “bridge” part of the bridge tunnel.  Choppy whitecaps roiled and crashed into the stone breakers 200 feet off their left on Ft. Monroe.  They were sixty seconds away from the entrance to the tunnel.

“You lied to me Abaddon.  You told me you were something special, you told me I was something special.”

“What do you have Nattie?  What’s in the bag?”  He dared not take his eyes from the road even for a second.  They were starting the descent to the tunnel entrance.

“I didn’t have much, but at least what I had wasn’t a lie.”  She approached him down the middle aisle of the tour bus.  

She threw the large open duffle into his lap.

“What is in here you stupid bitch?”  The bus went dark as they entered the tunnel.

“This is for you Henry, I’m so sorry.”  She stepped forward reached into the bag and clicked her egg timer to ‘zero’.  As the timer dinged she said, “Fuck you, Brian Speakes!”

Ethan and Ava stood with the dripping-wet leader of the seal team and watched the water explode a hundred feet in the air.  

"God dammit!  I told you to stand down.  My best friend was on that bus!”  Ethan said as he pushed the big man to the ground.

"I'll pretend that that didn't happen," he said picking himself off the ground.  "I'm telling you, whatever caused that tunnel to blow, was not issued by me or my men."

The seal leader walked to the detonator box, picked up two bare wires and displayed them to Ethan.  "I'm not saying our stuff didn't add to the blow, but I can tell you without a doubt it didn't cause it."

"Then what did?”  Ethan said to no one in particular.  He stared at the churning water and felt like a part of him was ripping away.

"Let's go Ethan," Ava said grabbing his hand, "let's go find the Admiral."

Ethan's world didn't seem quite as dark.

CHAPTER 32

AFTERWARD

The months after the explosion passed quickly for everyone.  Operation Eradication went faster and smoother than anyone could have hoped.  Abaddon's call to the Apocs of the world to go to their slums, meet and organize, had made the job of the military a cake-walk.  There was very little of what they called "collateral damage".  The remaining Apocs not removed the night of the attack were gathered and treated and were expected to be rejoining society soon as normal, yet healthier than average, human beings.

Reverend Ira Swanson presumed dead, presumed because his body was never found become a hero and a martyr to the ever-increasing members of the Glorified Church of God congregation.  The ministry continued to flourish under the sagely leadership of Brother Kenneth.  His old-world morals and values and his sincere manner gained worldwide appeal in a time that was hungry for change.  Old clever Kenneth frequently shared his on-air time with a handsome young new preacher named Colin Black.

Admiral "Tex" Prescott thought about giving up his post as Secretary of Defense.  His name had become a household word for the swift and efficient removal of the "Apoc threat" with very little loss to human life and property.  And finally because in the months since the concert, one despot dictator after another had been either killed or overthrown.  All the change came at the hands of their own people with no apparent connection to US Government intervention.  For the first time in anyone's memory, the world was truly a safe and peaceful place.  Projected military budgets had been cut by thirty percent with the money being diverted to rebuilding the parts of the inner cities destroyed by Operation Eradication. Tex was considered the shoe-in for the next Republican Presidential Ticket.

Dr. Angus Puck brought the medical world to its knees and into the homes and hearts of the world.  Admiral Prescott had never disclosed the saboteur of the cancer cure, everyone assumed it to be the missing Dr. Wojick.  Angus simultaneously announced the vaccine for cancer and MDR-V6 and distributed it worldwide, free of charge courtesy of Meredith Pharmaceuticals.  The vaccine for the MDR-V6 virus, although taking three months to culminate fully, left its users with increased strength and stamina, and rapid healing.  Experiments were now taking place infecting cancer, heart and virally afflicted patients with the MDR-V6 virus and then cleansing them afterward.  Many hopes and dreams were working in the laboratory with Dr. Puck and the prognosis seemed encouraging.  His hard-lined face and ever-furrowed brow were replaced by new wrinkles—laugh lines.  He was even kicking around the absurd idea presented to him by Tex Prescott that he consider the post of Surgeon General.

Ava resigned her post as spokesperson and had been taking it.  The inactivity, while at first had been a godsend, was now making her increasingly anxious, especially with the new baby on the way.  She had been spending a lot of time lately doing volunteer work for the St. Mary's Home for Infant Children and was considering the full-time post they had offered her.  The money they offered was about a tenth of what she had been making at the center, but with Ethan's new novel coming along so effortlessly it wasn't really a factor.  

Ethan's new novel started after completing his third and final installment in the children’s trilogy was breaking new ground for him.  His new book was a departure; it was an adult love story that seemed to be writing itself.

Ethan was happier than he had ever dreamed possible.  Except Bill's body had never been found in the wreckage of the tunnel and the bus.  It was later confirmed that the seal team did not cause the explosion.  The explosion had originated in the bus itself.  He had become closer than ever to "Uncle Tex".  Since the accident, the older man had become like a father to him and Ava, yet he vehemently refused to discuss the possibility that Bill had somehow survived.  It appeared Bill had vanished into thin air.  This is what bothered Ethan the most, coupled with the nagging feeling that Bill had somehow subsisted—changed, yet was still alive.  In the wake of his domestic happiness, Ethan strove to bury the feeling.  Try as he might, the sensation persisted.

EPILOGUE

The two men moved unseen and with ease in the streets of the Sudanese capital.  Even if someone thought them suspicious, the thought was forgotten before the words left their mouth.

The men, one older, the other middle
-
aged, possessed amazing strength, agility, plus an array of other astonishing abilities— the most impressive was mind persuasion.

They were on route to a secret meeting of the Sudanese Guard.  Today's agenda; the overthrow of Omar al-Bashir.

"Do you think Puck will ever find a cure for us?" the older man asked.

"Not if my uncle has any say in the matter.  Why would he want all this fun to end?"

"This really isn't half bad—you know what I mean?"

"Yes, I know what you mean.  Fishing is a pleasure of retirement, yet the angler has the power to let the fish live or die.  Chess playing is an enjoyable pastime, yet the players are motivated by the idea of war."

"Is that you saying that stuff or some dead Chinaman?"  The older man asked as they slipped into an alleyway just as a group of policemen went by.

"Hung Tzu
-
Ch’ing," he said as he looked up and down the street.  "In the sixteenth century I believe.  The coast is clear.,” he said as they entered the busy street again.

"Do you miss not being able to go back?"

"Not really, I think I was meant to do this work.  Maybe someday Henry, possibly, if Puck does find a cure."

"How 'bout your friend?  The writer fella?  Ever think about letting him know you're all right?"  Henry said as he sidestepped a group of chickens feeding in a doorway.

"You know, for the first time in his life I really think he's happy.  Someday I'll get in contact, but for now, I think he knows I'm all right.  Christ, he can read the paper can't he?”  Bill said.

They both chuckled.

"Let's get to work, another day another dictator.”

-THE END-

I also wanted to include some images of the things featured in the book: