The Dying of the Light: Interval (53 page)

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Authors: Jason Kristopher

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BOOK: The Dying of the Light: Interval
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“So you’re OK with this?”

“How could I not be? You’re beautiful, of course
I’m
beautiful, how could our baby be anything else?” She snorted and laughed, all the tension leaving the room. “Besides, Mary told me everything was absolutely fine, and that she’s a little fighter, just like her mom.”

“Mary!
She
told you! Why that little no-good, double-crossing—”

“Whoa, there, Peggy Sue,” I said. “It was actually George who told me, though I guess Mary shouldn’t have told him.”

Kim laughed and swatted me again for good measure. “Did she also tell you the best news?”

“Er, no, what?”

“She’s immune.”

“Really? Like us?”

“Fully immune. The prion has no effect on her blood. Mary tested it four times.”

I sighed, not even realizing what a weight that fear had been on me until it lifted. “But how?”

“Something to do with
our
immunity. She and Atkins are looking into it.”

“Well, I have another surprise for you.”

“Oh? What’s that?” She raised her eyebrows at me.

“I have a name for her. I think you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

I smiled as I drew her close. “Eden.”

She smiled back, nuzzling into my chest. “Oh, David, that’s perfect.”

For a moment, just a moment, we were both able to forget everything but the joy that we were sharing right then. The rest of the world, with all its troubles, its fears, and even its hopes, all paled in comparison to the journey that lay before us.

I couldn’t wait to take our next step.

Epilogue

 

Kostanay, Kazakhstan

 

Sven Fagerhölm stretched his tall frame as they disembarked from the small plane They’d left half their number on the outskirts of the ruins of Nagasaki, leaving only eleven people on board. At least they were on their way home.

Well, to Tati’s home, anyway
, he thought, then glanced around as she came down the steps after him, sliding one hand into his.
I had all but given up hope, but now, at least for a little while, she is mine. And I will take it
.

They breathed deep of the cold air in the medium-sized town near the Russian border. They had come a long way from the small island in the South Pacific, and still had far to go, but they were getting close.

“I think we will be there tomorrow,” he said, as he kept a watchful eye out for walkers. They hadn’t seen any on their way in, but that meant nothing, as he knew from experience. Tatiana had her pistol ready, just in case. “It is only six or seven hundred kilometers from here.”

She smiled at him. “It will be good to see Moskva once more,” she said, then frowned. “We will need to find more weapons, more people, to access the records.”

He patted her hand, wrapped in his, then leaned over to kiss her cheek. “Worry not,
lyubov.
We will find what and who we need, then we shall find the list of bunkers. And Vasily.”

She bowed her head. “I know you do not want me to find him, Sven.”

“Do not worry so much about what I want and don’t want. This is a good goal for us to have.” He waved a hand toward the others. “For all of us to have.”

Together, they watched the sun setting to the north, the tall grass of the plains sweeping in waves, lending a peaceful feeling to the moment.

Perhaps, just perhaps, things will all work out
.

 

Naval Station Norfolk
Norfolk, Virginia

 

The
USS Texas
slid quietly through the choppy waters of Chesapeake Bay, headed for the naval station. Captain Graves stood at the observation post on the sail, the motion of the waves bothering him not at all. He raised the binoculars once more, sweeping past the end of the Hampton Roads Beltway where it became a tunnel, and sighed again.

“It looks like we were right, Commander,” he said to the man standing next to him. “I can’t quite make out what ship it is, but that destroyer is definitely finished. If there’s anybody left alive on her, I’m betting they’re wishing they were dead.”

“That bad, Captain?”

“Take a look for yourself,” Graves replied, handing the binocs to his second-in-command, who whistled softly. Graves knew what he was seeing—the smoke and fire damage hadn’t been contained to a small portion of the ship, it had been ship-wide. The destroyer had clearly been gutted by fire, and it was only a minor miracle that she still floated.
Or a curse
, he thought.

Graves ran a hand through his hair, doffing his cap and wishing yet again it was a bit cooler. Virginia had never been his favorite place, but with the humidity this high, it felt like he was back in Hawaii, without the beautiful beaches, women and drinks to distract him.

Though Anderson had ordered him to come here to Virginia first, Graves had decided to go home—to Washington, D.C.—first, just to see it. Like every other major city they’d seen, zombies had overrun every part of the city they’d been able to see from the water. Though nothing still burned, as far as they could see the once-proud city lay in ruin. There were even chunks of stone missing from the Washington Monument, the holes standing in mute testament to an earthquake or major tremor that had damaged the city even further sometime in the last ten years.

It was a ghost town, populated only by the dead, and had reminded him of San Diego. He felt a momentary pang for the men they’d lost there, but he’d seen no reason to stay in D.C. So, they’d set sail for Norfolk, and it appeared their luck had held true, at least this far. The destroyer ahead of them was blocking almost the entire entrance to the shelter of the main naval station and harbor.

“We
might
have room on the port side, sir. It’ll be tight, but I think we can do it. Have to submerge, though.”

“Any idea what might be in dock?”

“No, sir. Can’t see from here, sir.”

“Shit. Well, let’s take her down, then. Hopefully, we’ll find something we can use. And some way to get these people off my boat.”

“Yes, sir,” said the commander, heading down the ladder first.

Graves turned to the east, the roiling grey clouds of the oncoming storm stretching to the horizon. Beyond lay his mission: London, France, Europe. They needed to know what had happened in Europe, and he was the only one who could help. He still wondered about Anderson and Blake’s questions the night before their departure from McMurdo, though.

What possible purpose would a Tomahawk missile serve
now
?
Shaking his head, he descended the ladder, securing the hatch above him.
No point in worrying about it now. We’ve got a needle to thread.
He strode confidently onto the bridge and began giving orders.
Who knew a SEAL would be a sub captain one day? Damn, if this world isn’t a different place. I kinda like it
.

 

AEGIS Bunker One
Mount Rainier, Washington
Five years later; Z-Day + 15 years

 

Her red hair flying out behind her, the young girl came racing around the bush and threw herself on the ground, holding the stick out in front of her and crying out “Blam! Blam! Blam!” I held my hands to my chest, the make-believe wounds causing me to shudder and shake before falling to the ground, pretending to be still and lifeless. The girl stood up slowly, looking around, then crept quietly up to me as I watched from mostly-closed eyes, out of arm’s reach, and pointed the stick at my head. With one last “Blam!,” she threw down the stick and ran over to her mother.

“Did I do good, Mama?” she asked, grinning and reaching skyward, signaling her desire to be picked up.

Her mother bent down and hoisted the girl onto her hip with a smile in return. “You sure did, baby girl. You’ll be a fine walker-killer.”

“Yay!” The girl leaned down and patted her mother’s growing abdomen. “Maybe when he’s big enough, he can help!”

I laughed as I rolled over, propping my head up on an arm as I looked at my two favorite women in the world. “How are you so sure it’s a boy, Eden?” I asked.

With the expression of wisdom she’d been studiously copying from her mother, Eden Blake folded her arms across her chest. “Because he is! I want a brother.”

Kim grinned down at her husband as I shook my head, laughing. “There you go, David. From the mouths of babes.”

It pained me that my daughter was learning how to kill walkers at such a young age. She should be playing with dolls and stealing her mom’s makeup. But even though she would never become one of them, a walker could still do her a lot of damage.

This world has changed everything about us, and ended innocence as we once knew it. I just hope I can give her a happy life
.

I glanced up when the light rotor wash of a Skycrane flew over us, headed for the city. A cargo container was swinging slightly below the giant chopper. “More supplies for JBLM?” I asked Kim, and she nodded.

“Yep. Marcie and Dalton have been working at expanding their territory.”

It had taken longer than she would’ve wanted, but Marcie Thompson had finally gotten through to the sergeant, and was soon to become Marcie Gaines. Kim and I were both quite happy with
that
particular turn of events, and how happy they had made each other.

So happy, in fact, that Kim had set Gaines up as the head of the new Expeditionary Forces, or ExForce, headquartered at the old airstrip.

“Good,” I said. “Maybe now we can concentrate on other things.” Kim sighed, and I smiled to take the sting out of my words. We’d been taking our time in developing the intelligence and a strong plan for dealing with Dagger once and for all. Using Maxwell’s network of spies and saboteurs, we’d just about put the finishing touches on our strategy.

And there was always Bunker Nine, the one full of monsters that were, at least for the moment, contained. We’d convinced Bunker Ten to send out a recon party to check out Nine, although convincing them they couldn’t open the bunker without telling them
why
had been a challenge and a half. They’d confirmed that the bunker was still sealed and didn’t appear to have been opened in years. Somewhere, amidst everything else, we were going to have to find a way to take care of them, too.

“We’ll get to all of that soon enough,” she said, and I let the matter drop. It never paid to argue with her. She touched her Bluetooth, answering a call. “Go for Blake. Oh, hi, Sabrina.”

At least I finally won
that
battle
, I thought. I got up and came over as she motioned, handing Eden to me and walking off a little ways.
Something big must’ve happened
.

I took our daughter off to the other side of the safe area, glancing around for the protective detail. Since we’d established the ExForce, they’d moved the bunker’s perimeter defenses to the bottom of the mountain, and we’d been able to use the former minefield as a park of sorts. The electrified fence was gone, as were the sentry guns. It was a very different sort of place now, but the guards I’d finally spotted were always going to be necessary.

Eden and I ran back and forth, each pretending to be a walker and chasing the other. I was getting older, and I knew it because I could feel the stiffness and soreness in my joints after only a few laps back and forth. I tackled my daughter gently and she laughed, giggling as I tickled her.

“What’s wrong, mama?” said Eden as Kim walked back up, and I could see that she’d been crying. I quickly stood, crossing to hold her hand as she wiped the tears with the other, looking down at our daughter.

“Nothing, baby girl. Go play for a minute so Mommy can talk to Daddy.”

“OK, Mama. Don’t be sad!” Eden whirled away, off on some new mission.

“What’s wrong, babe?” I asked.

She began crying again, and I held her close, letting her get whatever it was out of her system. After a moment, she sniffled, and sighed, laying a hand on my chest. “I know what we’re going to call him, David.”

“Him? You know for sure?”

She nodded. “Sabrina told me. It’s definitely a boy.”

“OK, I picked the first one, you get the second. That was the deal. What’s his name?”

She leaned back to look up at me. “George.”

Suddenly, it all came crashing in on me, and I knew without a doubt why she’d picked the name. I remembered the unexplained sadness in the old man’s eyes when he and Mary had visited with their daughter Rachel last year. I struggled not to break down too, knowing that one of us had to be strong. I gripped her tightly, the tears coming unbidden to my eyes. “Was… was it peaceful?”

Kim nodded again. “In his sleep. He didn’t feel a thing.”

I held on tight. “And Mary?”

“She’s a wreck. That’s why Sabrina called. But she’ll be OK. Eventually.”

Eden came walking back over to us, slowly, looking up at us with questions aplenty behind her eyes. She didn’t ask them, though, just hugged us both around the legs, as far up as she could reach. “Don’t be sad, Mama, Daddy. Don’t be sad.”

We both smiled and laughed, a small, brittle laugh, and I knelt down to pick her up. She scrubbed at her eyes, beginning to cry, too, and not knowing why. I smiled my biggest pretend smile, and with one arm around Kim, we began walking back inside.

“Baby girl, you remember Grampa George?” She nodded. “Well, let me tell you about how he and I met. It starts in this little town called Fall Creek…”

Afterword

 

In the immortal words of the Grateful Dead, what a long, strange trip it’s been.

Nearly two years ago now, I finished my first novel,
The Dying of the Light: End
, and published it myself, hoping to garner some small interest in the book. It was the acid test of my life’s question: was I meant to be a writer? Now, with thousands of copies of the book sold, numerous short stories published, the sequel in your hopefully eager hands, and having started a publishing company in the meantime, I think the answer to that question is clear.

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