“To be perfectly honest, sometimes we take other people like you because you can help us reach other goals.” Here, Ringo firmed up his voice and looked Davis right in the eye. “It’s still your decision to help us or not. I promise. We don’t force you to work with us. We hope you will, naturally, but we don’t make you. If you tell me after you hear everything I have to say that you want to leave, we’ll make it happen and never bother you again.”
Davis slammed down her hand hard on the table. “Okay, I want to leave then!” she said with firm conviction and anger in her voice.
Quinn got a look of shock on her face. “Oh…Davis, I know that seems easiest. But please, just listen to all Ringo has to say. There is a lot more.” Brookshire gently placed his hand over Davis’s, settling her a bit. But it felt like an uneasy settle. Davis felt as if any minute, the little stability she felt could come tumbling down like a house of cards on her head.
“Okay,” Davis said, drawing out the “k” with a long, tired breath ending in a sigh. “You can continue; I’ll listen, at least.” Her wavering voice and face did not hold the same conviction as her words.
“Look,” Ringo continued. “I know this is a lot. Overwhelming.” He put his fingers to his temple and rubbed. “This next part will be a little easier to believe; we have some proof.” He slid a folder over to Davis. “It’s in here. You don’t have to look at it now. Just when you get back to your room, and you are feeling up to it. The other thing I want you to understand is there is no rush to figure this out or decide.”
Davis put her hand on top of the folder and slid it over to herself. She was trying to feel the weight underneath the cover and tether herself to something that had a physical reality. Even though she fought it, tears started to slide out of her eyes and down her cheeks. Quinn got up from the table and walked to the other side, sitting next to Davis, opposite the side from where Brookshire was, and lightly placed her hand on Davis’s back, between her shoulders. Quinn gave a few light rubs trying to convey hope and warmth in a few soft strokes. Davis was surprised to realize she flinched at this kind gesture.
“If you’re ready to proceed, we’ll go ahead.” Davis barely heard the words Ringo spoke to her but took another sip of water and nodded her head slowly. “This part is more Namaguchi’s doing. If he would like to take over?”
“Yes,” said Namaguchi. “As you know, I’m a close confidant and aide for President Everett. And as it turns out, I was not a Natural Immune to the Marigold Injection but part of a third group that Ringo forgot to mention—I developed immunity over time.”
“Were you and Audrey naturally immune, or did it develop?” Davis interrupted, looking at Ringo.
“Neither,” he replied. “When we saw what was happening to the country, I came down here with my family. We’ve never even had the vaccine. Same with Romo and a few others, like Bhatt and Lyon, who are in another bunker. We’re in the middle bunker section. We were doomsday preppers, prepping for the end of the world, but we didn’t like what the government was doing, so we started slowly transitioning down here, a little bit at a time. When it became clear that we’d have to move to the bunkers permanently, we did so. We were pretty isolated, to begin with; we weren’t living in a crowded city. Therefore, the spotlight from the government wasn’t on us anyhow. Not to digress too much, sorry.”
“No problem,” Namaguchi nodded in silent agreement to what Ringo had said. “It may be hard to believe, but everything you’ve ever learned about the Lombardi Plague is a lie. President Everett was the one to create the Lombardi Plague…”
“Oh, I just can’t believe this!” Davis yelled. She was incensed. “Why do you guys hate President Everett this much? Why? Are you jealous of him? The idea of that is so ridiculous!” Davis got up from the table and started pacing around. “And you say you have proof? I can’t wait to hear this ‘proof you speak of.’” She walked back over to the table and flipped the front cover open, looking at the first document. At the top, it said, “From the Desk of Dr. Jack Everett.” Under it were various handwritten notes. There was nothing too specific, the words “Marburg Disease,” “Lombardi,” and “Plague” with a question mark after it was all there was. “This is your proof? This is nothing!” Davis scoffed with disbelief.
“I know it doesn’t look like much,” Quinn said reassuringly. “But, please, look at the date at the top.”
The date was February 2, 2025. It was almost a full year before the plague began.
August 31, 2056 –
Illumination
Davis woke up in her room; she had walked away from the table, not looking back after seeing the date on top of the document. She just couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Nothing made any sense to her. All night, she lay in her bed, trying to figure out if this was a mistake. She finally realized it must be a fake, a forgery, created to enhance the cause of the people who currently surrounded her. Naturally, Namaguchi would easily be able to get his hand on the letterhead to create the document. She had drifted off to an uneasy sleep, all night dreaming of a young boy screaming and crying as he is dragged off to an unknown
