The Dying of the Light: Interval (52 page)

She sighed and nodded, clearly not happy but unwilling to argue the point. “Fine.”

When we went back into the room, I sat down across from Driebach as Kim took the second chair, sitting back a ways. I could hardly blame her. The monster was a bit ripe.

“I wish they’d thought to give you a bath as well as change your clothes,” I said to Driebach, affecting a relaxed attitude. “Would’ve certainly improved the air quality in here.”

“Ever the winning host, Mr. Blake. You’re quite the card. Sadly, the… aroma… is one of the many side-effects from my current state.”

“Ah, you mean the trial prion bomb.” Driebach went very, very still, and I heard Kim gasp from behind me. I’ll admit, I could’ve softballed it, or given her something to go on, but I just didn’t have the patience anymore. “From Bunker Nine.”

Driebach sat back in his chair, appraising me anew. “I see you know more than you’ve let on, Mr. Blake.” He shook his finger at me from the table where it was chained. “Not very sporting of you.”

I smiled. “I know more than that, Driebach.
Lots
more. So, tell me again how your information can help us?”

“Its usefulness is now somewhat lessened, clearly, but not devalued completely. Has your lovely wife informed you of my request?”

“She has. And, I’m inclined to agree, if you can provide us with something worthwhile.”

“Oh, you can be sure of that, Mr. Blake.”

“Then I will agree. You may leave the bunker, free and clear, once you have delivered your information to us.
All
of your information.”

“I have your word on that?”

“You do.”

Driebach nodded. “Under the circumstances, I’m afraid that will have to do. I’ll spare you the handshake.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you have some paper, a pen? You may need to take notes.”

“Oh, don’t worry, this is all being recorded,” I said, pointing to the camera over my shoulder. “Now, let’s get started.”

“Very well. The first thing you should know is that Beoshane and I both received our orders from a man named Foster McMillan. As far as I was able to ascertain, he is a minor functionary at a facility similar to yours outside what remains of Charlotte, Iowa.”

“Go on.”

“Mr. McMillan has ambitions beyond his current role. He plans to install himself as ruler over the remainder of your bunkers, using the threat of a device known as an aerial-dispersal bomb, with which you are apparently familiar. He and his personnel have modified these to spread the prion in an aerial form, infecting anyone who breathes in the toxins, turning them into what you call walkers within days, if not hours.”

Maxwell and I’d guessed something like this was what was used on Bunkers Six and Nine, but to hear it confirmed… well, nausea was a good word for it. “That makes no sense. Why would he turn people if he meant to rule them?”

“Oh, it’s not the people in the bunkers he means to turn, it’s other survivors. Nearby cities. Well, towns at any rate. There aren’t any more cities. The threat of these people turning and being corralled into massive herds to be thrown against the defenses of a single bunker is quite effective, I imagine. Or will be.”

It would certainly intimidate the hell out of
me, I thought.
Mass-producing walkers? Sounds like Mengele’s tests back in WWII
.

“I have to say, Driebach, you’re a bit more…” I fumbled for the word.

“Erudite?”

“Yes, that’s it exactly. You’re more erudite than I would’ve thought.”

“Do you know what I did, before?”

When I looked at him blankly, he continued. “No, you wouldn’t. How could you? Believe it or not, Mr. Blake, I taught graduate-level English classes. Now, I’m relegated to… Well, this,” he said, twisting the chains that bound him to the table. “Something of a comeuppance, I’m sure my students would tell you. I was a bit of a bastard with grades, I’m afraid.”

“That I believe.” I studied him for a moment more. “There’s one thing I keep coming back to, though.”

“Just one? You’re smarter than you look.”

I flashed a smile at him, filled with lots of teeth. “Thanks. My question is this: what do you get out of this?”

“My freedom, of course. We’ve already covered this.”

“Oh, I remember that. But it doesn’t seem like enough, somehow.”

Driebach sat back against the chair, or at least as far as his restraints would let him. “You’re quite perceptive, for a normal human.”

“So I’ve been told.”

He sighed. “Very well. I want to kill a man, Mr. Blake.”

“Just one?”

It was Driebach’s turn to smile. “Indeed, just the one. You see, I want McMillan dead. Well, not so much dead, as… available. I had thought the best way to accomplish that was to use Beoshane. But it seems he was incapable of providing what I needed.”

“So now you’re going to use us, and hope to be around when we find him.”

“Something like that.”

“Well, I can’t say I blame you for wanting him dead, if what you’ve told us is true.”

“Oh, it is.”

“Be that as it may, he will face justice, and not at your hands. The best that I can do is give you the freedom that I promised. What you choose to do with it is up to you.”

“I can hardly fault you for that, Mr. Blake.”

“So where do you and Beoshane fit in?”

“Your bunker here is one of the most well-protected, and McMillan had not yet perfected the weapon when we began our attacks. There were… drawbacks to some of his earlier tests.” Driebach’s attention drifted for a moment, and I seized the opportunity.

“It was him, wasn’t it? He tested the bomb on Bunker Nine.”

Driebach snapped back to reality, and nodded. “He did. The results were unexpected, and produced not a turned zombie, but rather, those like me.” He spread his hands as much as he could. “A half-zombified human, a hybrid, if you will, able to think, rationalize, converse, even be stealthy when necessary. All the benefits of humanity without the pesky need for continued maintenance.”

“So what happened to the rest of them? Did you all kill each other off?”

“Hardly. To the best of my knowledge, the rest of them are still there. He had somehow locked the exits of the bunker before setting off the bomb. I was… selected… earlier, as a guinea pig, a sample, if you will. He thought to correct the unfortunate side-effects of my own creation with a modified version.”

I froze, the words ringing in my ears. Maxwell had thought that might be the case, but none of us had taken it seriously. A bunker full of Driebachs? The implications were horrifying, to say the least.

“Ah, I see you did not have all the information, after all.”

“Actually, I knew about that, but I just needed your confirmation. The question I have is how it worked at all. The bunker’s air filters are designed to screen out biological weapons.”

Driebach shrugged. “I’m not a biologist, I’m afraid. From what little I was told, I gather that the mutated version of the prion he was using spread rather rapidly, infecting those in the bunker in a matter of hours, starting from only a handful of subjects. For what it’s worth, I don’t think he actually intended to create a bunker full of… well,
me
… but rather wanted to see how hard we would be to put down. A ‘field test,’ so to speak.”

“One that got
way
out of hand.”

“So it would seem.”

I glanced over at Kim, knowing she was thinking the same thing I was: a bunker full of Driebachs, and all of them super-infectious.
This just keeps getting better and better. At least they’re all contained… for the moment, anyway
.

“After Bunker Nine, McMillan tested the bomb once more,” I said.

Driebach nodded. “Yes, though again, imperfectly. The mutation that created me and the others was
much
too dangerous to use effectively, so he tried again. The bomb was detonated above the mountain, with a dispersal pattern carefully calculated to affect the maximum number of nearby uninfected people. Again, he had no intention of killing those inside, but in this case, those air filters you mentioned weren’t functioning correctly at that installation. I don’t know why or how they were compromised. We only discovered this somewhat later, after realizing that the entirety of the bunker’s population had been turned in the span of a few days.”

There was a scrape behind me, and I turned to see Kim leaving the room quickly. I didn’t go after her, though, even if my mind was also filling in the horrific images of what it must have been like to be one of the last ones turned in that bunker. Running, trying to hide, yet knowing you have no way to escape…

I shook it off and forced myself to get back to the topic. “Do you know his next target?”

“He had been discussing starting at the top and working his way down.”

“So he’ll start here?”

“The top, Mr. Blake. Not Bunker One, but rather your Bunker Five, in Pennsylvania.”

“He wants the government bunker.”

“Indeed, and the president to run it.”

I snorted. “Marnes? He can have him.”

Driebach shook his head and smiled. “Not Marnes.
The president
. He’s a symbol, something people recognized. With the proper leverage—which a determined person like MacMillan can
always
find—he could control the whole kit and caboodle with much less effort than it would take otherwise. The sheep will follow the man they recognize, even if his orders don’t make sense.”

I leaned forward. “Wait a minute. The president is
alive
?”

“So McMillan’s spies tell him, though they’re unable to give a clear picture of his exact location. Apparently, he’s not actually
in
the bunker, but nearby, hence why McMillan’s waiting. He wants final confirmation first, rather than accidentally turn the president.”

“What else can you tell me?”

“Rather a lot, actually.”

The interrogation was over, and I was in Ops with Kim, going over what we’d learned with the governor. Driebach was being transported to the main door of the bunker for his release, and had been a model prisoner the entire time. Neither Kim nor I were particularly happy with letting him go, but the information we’d received was well worth it.

“This McMillan guy,” said Gates as we waited for Driebach to appear. “He’s actually Malcolm Dagger? And Dagger has killed Yarborough and taken over?
And
he took out two bunkers full of people?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Given the description Driebach gave us, he fits virtually perfectly our files on Dagger, and various other things Driebach was able to tell us from overheard conversations confirmed the rest of it.”

“I guess this also explains why Marnes moved to take over the presidency. Maybe he knows something we don’t about the
actual
president’s whereabouts.” Gates put a hand to her head. “I thought we were doing OK, but this… this is all so much new crap to deal with.”

I kept my voice low. “An aerial-dispersal prion bomb, a bunker full of Driebachs, and a psychotic madman out to take over what’s left of the US. Wonderful. This just gets better and better.”

“Governor, Colonel, he’s leaving now.”

We stepped forward to view the main monitor, and Driebach walked onscreen, moving carefully through the minefield, the twisted remains of the electrified fence, and past the now-useless sentry guns. I took Kim’s hand as we watched, squeezing it gently.
It’s not a perfect solution, but at least we got some
—

There was a collective gasp as Driebach’s head disappeared, his body stumbling forward and collapsing a few seconds later. I looked at Kim to find her looking at me. I shook my head, as she did hers, and we both turned to look at the governor as she spoke, easily heard as the entire Ops team went silent.

“Acknowledged,” she said. “Target down. You’re clear to return.” She touched her Bluetooth, ending the call, and regarded us without expression. “You said it yourself, both of you: it was not an ideal solution, letting him go. Fortunately,
I
did not make him any promises, and I’m not about to let a monster like that loose in the world.”

“But how… who…” I stood there for at least a minute or two like a bumbling idiot, trying to wrap my brain around the idea that the nice, sweet Angela Gates had just ordered an assassination. Kim was equally nonplussed.

We had no surprise left in us when a moment later the Ops door opened and Daniel strode in, a sniper rifle slung across his back. I looked back and forth from him to Gates as he crossed the intervening distance and gave her a peck on the cheek, then turned to us with one of his ultra-rare smiles.

“You didn’t think they’d assign just
anyone
to be at the governor’s side, did you?”

Kim and I had returned to our quarters, ready for a few days off. The governor had declared a three-day rest period for the entire bunker in celebration of our victory over Beoshane. Given all that we had learned, it seemed a hollow victory, at best.
Still, there are a few things to look forward to
, I thought as I sat on the couch, my arm wrapped through Kim’s as we held hands, her head on my lap.

My wife had never looked more beautiful to me, and I realized that, despite all the other things we were soon going to have to worry about, despite all the horrors we’d seen and the nastiness we’d been through, the new life growing inside her was bright enough to light our way forward.
I will
not
let the rest of the world kill my happiness
, I vowed, and leaned down to kiss Kim lightly on the forehead as she looked up at me sleepily.

“What was that for?” she asked with a smile.

“Nothing in particular,” I answered, then had an idea. “Just haven’t done it in a while. And with you glowing the way you are, you’ve never looked more beautiful.” I grinned hugely at her. “I guess that happens to all women, you know, cause of the baby.”

She sat up and twisted around, one hand covering her mouth in surprise. “What? How? You know? How long have you known?” She continued peppering me with questions, slapping at my arm and shoulder in frustration until I finally had to take her hands in mine, locking them down. I laughed and leaned forward, kissing her soundly, and she snatched one of her hands back to run it through my hair. When we parted, there were tears in her eyes.