“No. Just the man.”
“It seems strange that a man with stab wounds would be alive like that. It suggests the wounds were rather recent. The person who inflicted the wounds would still be nearby by necessity. You saw nothing – no form, no footprints, no clues, as to whether there had been someone else present?”
“No. If I saw footprints or anything I would have told Michael. I guess he didn’t see anything, either.”
Chan just stared at me, willing more information out. Finally, he nodded slowly, as if I had just confirmed something he suspected.
“When the Bunkers were first established, there were one hundred and forty four – as you are well aware from your schooling. Now, how many are there?”
“Four.”
“Four.” He paused, to let it sink in. “You are too young to know this, Alex, being only sixteen. But since that day in 2030, when the Bunkers were filled, there was hope. The Bunkers would arise and rebuild the nation Ragnarok had destroyed. But the Bunkers failed, one by one. Most were wiped out by Wastelanders. The commanders of the Bunkers were lax in security, too generous in charity. They allowed survivors in, gave away food. They didn’t keep their locations secret. They could not bring themselves to shoot those who wandered by.
“And some…some Bunkers disappeared into the night – here one day, gone the next, with no rhyme or reason why. The situation has worsened as communication satellites have fallen into disrepair, making contact with any Bunker near impossible.”
Chan paused, his eyes narrowing.
“Do you know why we are still alive, Alex? Do you know why we have not fallen, just four of one hundred and forty four Bunkers that still function?”
“Because no one knows we’re here.”
“That is correct. No one knows we are here. So why go on recons at all? Well, we only send recons out in pairs, except in extreme circumstances, once every week. The senior is taught to look for things the junior is not privy to. Needless to say, it is a very important task, well worth the risk of being discovered. Very few wander near here because they have learned to avoid this area. But the Wasteland is a fluid place – things change, and if we can’t keep tabs on our environment, we cannot adapt to ever shifting situations, and may find ourselves eliminated in that way.
“I am the Chief Security Officer. It is my job to maintain the security and well-being of all Bunker residents. I am endowed by the government of the United States of America to run this facility, and have been given license to do whatever is necessary to ensure that. Whatever the cost.”
He stared at me, a while longer. Almost, he broke me with that will. But at last, he relented.
“If you remember anything about your recon, you can find me personally. Remember what I said about the xenovirus. Not a word.” He paused. “That is all.”
Just like that, the interrogation was over. Chan turned his attention to some papers, and seemed to have forgotten me in quick order.
But I had to ask one question.
“Officer Chan…why was that man coming to our Bunker, anyway?”
Chan looked up, trying to decipher what I knew. Finally, he spoke.
“It is a matter of governmental security that I cannot relay to you,” he said. “That he died in transit was most unfortunate. How he came to be infected in the first place…” Chan frowned, lost in thought. “That is all I have to say on that subject.”
“Yes, Officer Chan.”
I left Chan to his work, closing the door behind me.
Questions raced through my mind as I walked home. By the time I returned to mine and my father’s apartment, it was 21:00. Only then did I allow myself to relax. As soon as I shut the door, I heaved a huge sigh. Chan was the one person whose bad side I didn’t want to be on. Up until now, I had done well in not drawing attention to myself. And now, this. Chan would forever remember this, and it might make things difficult.
At least I had my dad to help with things. Tomorrow, after class, I would speak with him. He would know what to do.
I closed my eyes, trying to find peace. When I opened them, I looked at my familiar surroundings. Our apartment was two rooms – a bedroom, and a small living room. The living room contained a couch, several bookshelves filled to overflowing, and a large desk littered with papers and yet more books, where I did my homework and my sketches.
I went to the bedroom, and lay down on the corner bunk. It was a while before I fell asleep. After what Chan told me, it was a wonder I could sleep at all.
I could only hope the morning would bring answers and resolution.
Chapter 7
That morning, I went to class. It was hard to concentrate as Mrs. Watson introduced the class to geometric proofs.
When lunch break came, Khloe walked up to me.
“What happened last night?”
“It was fine. He didn’t get anything out of me.”
I turned around to leave.
“Wait. Where are you going?”
“I need to go see my dad. He didn’t come home last night.”
“Is he not sleeping?”
“No. And he probably won’t until he’s solved this. I’m his voice of reason. That, and I need to figure out what to do about Chan.”
“Need company?”
“Sure. I could use the moral support.”
We left the classroom, and headed for the medical bay. It wasn’t far. We were there within a minute.
It was completely empty. Not even my father’s assistants were there.
“Did everyone go home?” Khloe asked.
That’s what I thought, at first. Then I realized…
“He must be with the patient.”
We walked toward the operating room. Through the small window in the door, we could see the patient sprawled on his back, motionless. But that’s not what worried me. CSO Chan was standing next to my dad and two assistants. All wore breathing masks.
We ducked out of the way, before any of them could see us.
“What is it?” Khloe whispered.
“Chan’s in there,” I said.
“Should we leave?”
“No. I want to listen.”
“Oh, Alex. Do you really want to get into more trouble?”
“I’m already in trouble. Besides, this is too important.”
Khloe sighed. “Fine. I’ll stay too, I guess.”
I leaned against the door, and listened.
“Will he expire soon?”
It was Chan. I heard whispers from the assistants. Then, my father’s voice.
“Yes. He is dead now, in fact. But the virus is changing him. He is no longer human.”
“What do you mean?” Chan asked.
“Just that. The DNA is so changed as to no longer be human. All of his hair is gone. The muscles have thickened, and an MRI has shown that there has been a great reduction in brain matter. There are so many
