Adam Baker - Terminus

The stars and stripes lay bundled on the floor. Part of the old office decor, along with a framed Ten Commandments in gothic script: a reminder to any IRT employees summoned to the Super’s office that his brass-buttoned, chest-puffing authority was backed by God and state.

Tombes picked up the pole. The flag had faded pale pink and lavender, like a winter sunset. He slapped webs from the braid fringe. Thick dust swirl. He straightened the brass staff over his knee and twisted it into the floor stand.

‘They bombed Washington too, you know,’ said Donahue. ‘The Constitution. The Declaration. The First Lady and her damned Chihuahua. All that history up in smoke.’

Tombes shrugged.

‘Politicians. No one will miss them. If we beat this disease, maybe the world can start over. A second chance. Maybe we can do it right.’

‘Is that the daydream? A ranch? A nice little farmstead?’

‘Always wanted to be a blacksmith. I’ll pound horseshoes on an anvil.’

‘What the hell do you know about horses?’ asked Donahue. ‘You’re from Bensonhurst.’

‘There’ll be a book on a shelf, somewhere. Old knowledge, waiting to be found.’

Tombes pulled up a chair and rested his boots on the table. He turned his Zippo over in his muscled hand, knuckle-skin melted tight by an old burn. He clicked the lid, an instinctive ex-smoker fidget. Shamrock insignia. No Irish need apply. He gazed at the flame, then snapped the lid closed.

He shivered.

‘Jesus. Freezing down here.’ He huddled deeper into his turnout coat. ‘Maybe we should break a couple of chairs, start a fire.’

‘Never thought I’d be reduced to rubbing sticks together.’

‘Where the hell did you get that trash?’ he said, pointing at the radio. ‘Dug it out of landfill? Bunch of GI junk. Looks like someone stormed the beaches at Normandy with that thing strapped to his back. Liberated fucking Paris.’

‘Yeah. Well, every communication satellite is drifting dead in orbit, so cell phones aren’t much use right now. Got to make do with scavenged crap. It’s like someone stopped human history and hit rewind.’

‘Better believe it. Fucked up roads, sour gasoline. Couple of years from now you’ll be riding place to place with a six-shooter strapped to your hip.’

Donahue pulled on headphones and gripped a metal microphone big as a showerhead. She scanned wavebands.

‘Extraction to Ridgeway, do you copy, over? Come in Ridgeway.’

Washes of interference rose and fell like breaking waves.

‘Anything?’ asked Tombes.

Donahue slid the headphones across the table. He held them to his ear.

‘…This is a test of the Emergency Broadcast System. The broadcasters of your area in voluntary cooperation with federal, state and local authorities have developed this system to keep you informed in the event of an emergency. If this had been an actual emergency the Attention Signal you just heard would have been followed by official information, news or instructions. This concludes the test of the Emergency Broadcast System…’

‘Plenty of channels still on air,’ said Donahue. ‘All of them automated.’

Tombes slid the headphones back across the table.

‘People used to believe the final image a person saw before they died was retained in the eye. I guess America ends with a bunch of test signals and channel idents.’

She retuned.

‘Ridgeway, this is extraction, do you copy, over?’

It took ten minutes to raise a reply.

‘Ridgeway to extraction, go ahead, over.’

The Chief. Clipped intonation.

‘What’s your status?’

‘We are in position. The site is secure.’

‘Have you located the Bellevue team?’

‘There’s nothing down here, Chief. The station is empty. No sign of Ekks or his team. Not a trace. We’re not sure how to proceed.’

‘ Twenty men. A lab. A camp. All of it located at Fenwick Street Station. Multiple eyewitness reports. No ambiguity. ’

‘They’re gone, sir. They cleared out.’

‘ What’s left of the city? ’

‘Pretty much every building sustained major structural damage. Secondary fires put a ton of fallout in the air. The place is a wasteland, utterly hostile to life. It’s like someone lifted Manhattan Island and put it down on Venus. If Ekks and his boys headed outside, they’re already dead.’

‘ What’s your current exposure? ’

‘Tolerable, as long as we stay below ground, but we’ll need immediate evac once we have completed our sweep.’

‘What about the prisoner? What does she say? ’

‘She’s holding back, sir.’

‘ Make her talk. You have my authority to use any method you see fit to secure her cooperation, understand? Extreme measures. Ethics are a luxury. Do whatever is necessary. You are to locate Ekks. You are not to return without him. ’

‘What’s the situation at base, Chief?’

‘ We have a crowd of infected massing at the fence. They showed up at first light. More every hour. There must have been a refugee camp somewhere in the forest. A steady stream stumbling out the treeline. Too many to shoot. I’ve set men to patrol the perimeter with searchlights, checking for a breach. We can hold out for a couple more days, but sooner or later they’ll break through the wire and we’ll be overwhelmed. It’s hard to understand. We kept quiet, kept out of sight. But they sniffed us out. Maybe they heard the choppers. ’

‘Damn.’

‘ We may be forced to abandon Ridgeway. We’re making urgent preparations to hit the road and find somewhere more remote. ’

‘Understood.’

‘And I’m worried about the fallout plume. Madness to stay this close to Manhattan. If the wind changes direction it could bring a blizzard of radioactive ash our way. We need to reach a safe distance, and ultimately head out of state. ’

‘Where do you have in mind, Chief?’

‘ I’ve checked the maps. There’s a lodge in the Adirondacks, near Avalanche Lake. It’s deep in the forest, easy to defend. A good staging base. Somewhere to regroup and figure out our next move. We’ll patch up the remaining helicopter and send it out. They’ll overfly the place, take a look around. Night, but that could work to our advantage. Infrared will let us know if anything is moving around in those woods. If the place seems inviting, we’ll box our equipment. Airlift our gear and personnel in stages. ’

‘Well, don’t forget about us, sir. You folks are our lifeline. If that chopper clips a pylon or runs out of gas, we’re stranded. We’ve got no way off this damned rock.’

‘ The plan still holds. Stay below ground. Complete your mission. Exfil in twenty-two hours. ’

Donahue shut off the radio and sat back.

‘You caught all that?’

‘Some,’ said Tombes.

‘They’re sending the chopper upstate. They’re scouting for a new base, trying to find somewhere more secure.’

‘About time. We can’t beat these bastards. Best to put some distance.’

‘Just got to find Ekks.’

‘And what if we don’t?’ said Tombes. ‘Reckon they’ll still come get us? Sounds like they’ve got a battle on their hands. What if they can’t spare the manpower? The Chief might decide we aren’t worth the time. Expendable assets. We’re not shooters. We’re no use in a combat situation. He might leave us to die.’

‘He wouldn’t abandon us.’

‘Hope you’re right,’ said Tombes. ‘Looks like we’re stuck here for the duration. No chance of an early ride home. Shit. Should have brought a deck of cards.’

Nariko and Cloke descended the steps to the platform.