I’m relieved I have something else to do—a new goal. Maybe if I find James, we can have some common ground with our connection to Curtis.
Tomorrow, I’ll work on heading back to Seattle.
*
AIDEN
There’s no being discreet or careful now. I put the Audi in gear, then tear out of the driveway and head straight for the interstate. Carjackers and Connor be damned. Bring them on. See if they can mess with me when I’m trying to save the guy I love.The guy I love. I love him. The feeling has been simmering for a while, but now it’s a full boil. Ihaveto find him.
The Audi responds with precision. I’ve never driven an electric car before. The smooth, linear acceleration is a kick. Heading onto the freeway entrance, I’m thrust into my seat as I push the accelerator to the floor. The freeway is clear. Only the occasional wreck slows me down as I navigate past. But the road is wide, so I cruise as fast as possible, teetering on the edge of control.
The onboard navigation still works. The car has all the map data downloaded, so I’m not reliant on a nonexistent Internet, and the GPS satellites haven’t malfunctioned yet. My destination is the UW Medical Center in the middle of Seattle. I enter it into the navigation system and blast down the road.
The outskirts of Seattle don’t seem that bad. No worse than many smaller towns I encountered across the country. Run-down, but not destroyed. But the deeper I get to the middle of the city, the more the apocalypse is apparent. Entire neighborhoods are burned down. Graffiti is everywhere. And Mother Nature seems to be especially eager to swallow up the city, as many structures are covered by vegetation.
After such a long journey with so many obstacles, it’s remarkable how fast this last leg goes. I cruise through Seattle’s University District in less than an hour. My final destination is minutes away.
I pull the Audi up to a massive complex of buildings and get out. The UW Medical Center appears to have been built over many decades, with each new architect taking their inspiration from whatever drab, institutional buildings looked like at the time.
I wind through the maze of towers, outbuildings, and parking garages. But I know exactly where I’m going. I’ve studied the maps and the pictures extensively. Finally, I find a nondescript door on the side of an unremarkable building. A tiny camera protrudes from the building’s facade.
I wave to the camera and speak clearly so the mic will pick up my voice. “Emergency Medical Bunker Gamma-six, this is Aiden Torres, courier from EMB Alpha-one, with a priority one package. Please acknowledge.”
Nothing.
I wait for a moment, then repeat the message and wave to the camera again. Still no response.
This bunker was offline when I left Boston over a month ago. This was always a worry, but I’d kept it tucked into the back of my mind, never wanting it to stress me too much or let it cloud my judgment. Now, it’s hitting me over the head.
The door should have been locked, but the doorknob turns freely.
Shit.
With pistol in hand, I ease the door open to reveal a large cement room and a freight elevator shaft, very similar to the one in Boston. But the inside is trashed. The biometric scanner next to the elevator, has been smashed beyond recognition. The metal gate that should guard the elevator shaft lies in a heap in the corner, ripped from its hinges.
I’m hit with a wave of panic. Any hope of finding the cure and saving Zach took a major blow, but I still need to press on. Maybe something down there will provide a hint to what happened.
I peer down the deep hole, which descends over a hundred feet. I shine the flashlight down it. Even the powerful beam cannot penetrate the darkness at the bottom. To my right, a metal access ladder descends the entire length of the shaft until the shadows obscure it. A narrow ledge, no wider than six inches, provides access to the ladder.
I press my body up against the side of the shaft and shimmy my feet along the ledge. My pulse rises as I shake off a minor spell of dizziness. Now is not the time to freak out. I grab the ladder rungs with all my strength and descend into the darkness.
My forearms, shoulders, and back muscles scream, but I continue downward. After over a hundred feet, I finally reach the bottom.
I’m standing on the top of the elevator car. Pointing my flashlight around, I find the access hatch into the cab. But it’s already been opened. Someone has been here before me.
I poke my head down through the hatch to see what I’m getting myself into, shining the flashlight around in the darkness. Beyond the elevator car a large concrete room opens up, and a massive circular metal door provides access to the bunker. The door is ajar.
After gently descending into the elevator car, I creep toward the bunker, pistol in one hand, flashlight in the other. Large chunks of cement debris litter the floor and rest against the bunker entrance. The massive door won’t open any further, with just enough room for me to squeeze through.
Inside, tables are overturned, smashed lab equipment is strewn about, and shattered TVs line the walls.
I search the large main room, shining my flashlight, looking for any signs of what might have happened here. I come across a series of letters and numbers spray-painted along the wall.
VXTZ UAR +11
Next to the text is the three-dimensional drawing of a rectangle in red paint. It almost looks like a shoe box.
I recognize the text immediately. This is cyphertext. An encoded message. Hopefully, it’s a hint about the lab’s new location.
