He was more like Malcolm than he cared to admit.
The others… they were strangers. Malcolm supposed he would get to know them all. He’d have to get to know a lot of things.
In a short span of time everything changed for Malcolm, his world was suddenly different. Sadly, there was a part of him that was gone, never to return. Thirty years in a blink of an eye… literally. The destruction and decay that occurred in those thirty years was evident with every mile they trekked on their journey.
TEN – OH, SAY CAN YOU SEE
According to the history of Matthew, the trajectories of the nuclear warheads were off. He seemed to recall a dozen targets, just on the East Coast. He figured they were everywhere though. Some cities hit with two or three bombs. Some of those bombs, missed. The land was barren more so from the nuclear winter that set in. The area just never grew again. Buildings were toppled, anything flammable was torn apart to create fires for warmth during the cold winter months.
After all, they all believed the world was done. They were left to their own devices.
While most first generation offspring of survivors had some physical defects ranging from mild to severe, they all had a sort of intellect disconnection, whether it was verbal or mental.
It was just a mess.
The Wrecker village was actually outside of the town of Burke, Virginia. One of the towns hit with a low yield device intended for DC.
Matthew hated the name Wrecker when Meredith told him. He hadn’t heard of it, but it made sense to him knowing the mindset and violent tendencies of the Night Stalkers, as he called them.
They… were just people. Maybe Burkians. But that was it.
Hunter rode in the back seat of the cart, which made not only for awkward traveling but conversation as well. His big body seemed to take up most of the seat and when he leaned forward he was invading Meredith and John’s space.
He made them travel slow and had them stop every once and a while so he could follow tracks.
He lost the trail of the stranger about six miles out of Burke. That was when Hunter got out of the buggy and looked around.
“We have a moment,” Meredith said. “I’ve been thinking about it. It can’t be us.”
“It is,” John argued.
“No, John listen. None of these people developed symptoms while we were here. This thing hits fast. Rusty would have been full blown sick before we left.”
“He was coughing and sneezing.”
“He said he had allergies.”
“Then explain. Explain how a Wrecker a hundred mile away caught a virus.”
“Air.”
John scoffed.
“Or Grant.”
That caught John’s attention. “Grant.”
“What if he were a carrier. We’re immune, he wasn’t. That would explain it.”
“That would. But I don’t think we should take the chance. Especially with the nice Wreckers. Speaking of which…” John looked over to where Hunter stood on the edge of a hill. “What is Sloth doing?”
“Excuse me.”
“Sloth. Remember Sloth from Goonies?”
“Oh my God, that is so wrong. On so many levels. Hunter looks nothing like Sloth.”
“Meredith please.”
“Slightly but not enough to call him that. Here he comes.”
Hunter looked like a man on a mission. He walked straight to the buggy and grabbed his sack, tossing it over his shoulder. He lifted his spear and the crossbow that John had. He then loaded the crossbow.
“Did you find something?” John asked with enthusiasm.
Hunter nodded once and walked ahead.
Hurriedly, Meredith and John followed. Hunter waited on the edge of the hill staring out.
When they arrived at his side, the saw that the hill wasn’t really that far up. Maybe thirty feet. Its height didn’t give a great vantage point; then again, it wasn’t needed.
Hunter pointed to a building below. It sat in a large parking lot, a lot cracked and covered in dirt. The building looked as if it were an office or medical suite. The windows were busted and the east wall of it had crumbled.
It wasn’t the building so much or the parking lot that Hunter indicated, but the makeshift camp set up not far from the doors of the building.
An old rusted van was parked with the rear door open and a canopy erected over the doors. A tent was not far from it and the remnants of a campfire sat between them.
The area looked as if someone tried to clear some of the dirt, sweep it up.
John didn’t see any people. “Are they your people?” He asked Hunter.
“No.” Hunter shook his head. He moved his index and middle finger back and forth then pointed below.
“You want to go check for a trail or tracks?” John asked.
“Yes,” Hunter nodded. “Quiet is needed.”
“Absolutely, after you.” John held out his hand.
“Is it them?” Meredith asked John in a whisper.
“I don’t know. But I do feel safe with our big friend.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
Making his way to the campsite, Hunter kept the spear behind his back and crossbow in his hand. He paused just outside the camp circumference, peered around and walked to the fire.
Crouching down he reached to it and withdrew his fingers, speaking softly. “Still warm.”
“Hold it!” a man yelled out to them.
Immediately Hunter sprang to his feet. He drew the spear and aimed the crossbow without hesitation at the man who emerged from the building.
The man wore the Genesis outfit of drawstring pants and tee shirt.
“Oh my God, what the hell are you?” he asked Hunter.
“That…” John said. “Is not very nice.”
“Who are you?” Apparently nervous, the man swung his gun back and forth.
“Easy.” Meredith lifted her hands. “We aren’t here to hurt you. We were searching for the people that were with a man dressed like you. He may have left here several days ago.”
“Yeah, yeah,” the man responded nervously. “He was sick. He left looking for help.”
“Yes, he infected a camp,” Meredith explained. “Why did you let him leave if he was so ill? Instead of helping him? And can you please put down the gun.”
Slowly the man lowered his aim.
John reached out to Hunter. ‘Okay, it’s good. Be diligent, but we’re good now.”
The man looked at John, then Meredith and finally Hunter. ‘We were confused. It sounds crazy.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Meredith said. “No crazier than being rendered unconscious, and waking up in a lab after being cryogenically frozen.”
“You too?” he asked.
John nodded. “Yes. We’ve been looking for family, for answers.”
Suddenly the man grew anxious and emotional, almost as if he were relieved. “Did you find any?”
Meredith answered. “Some.”
“Oh, God. Then please, what is going on? Where are we?” he pleaded emotionally. “Or better yet, when are we?”
Harold Cole was a brilliant obstetrician and fertility expert before he was snatched out of an awards dinner and placed in deep freeze. Another awards dinner at the same hotel. He had flown in from Los Angeles and was a long way from home.
He told a similar story with the exception that the middle aged man, strikingly handsome, still didn’t recall most of his life.
Meredith and John went into the building with him, while Hunter stayed outside. They entered an office similar to the one their own group ascended into after the leaving the stasis portion of the lab.
Only difference was Cole and his people hadn’t searched for answers in the computer or on the desk, if there were any to be found.
There were a few others in the lab that survive, aside from the stranger named Mark that wandered into the village of Burke. From what Cole said, Mark woke up sick, but not terribly sick. He panicked and left. Oddly, enough, Cole and the three others, two men and a woman, were still in a major state of confusion.