“Which is?”
Oles turned and gestured at the servers sitting out on the desk on the table. “There’s a bullet hole right through the system we needed to access.”
Rick looked at where Oles was pointing, and even in the dim light he could see the shattered plastic and bent metal where a round had entered the front of a rackmount server that was sitting on the desk. “Did it hit the drives?”
“Unfortunately.” Dr. Evans nodded.
“How’d you all even get these systems up and running?” Rick looked around at the dim emergency lighting.
“There’s about a dozen backup power units in the corner, each one good for a few minutes of power to a monitor and one of these systems. It was janky, but it worked.”
“Well then,” Rick took a step forward and examined the machine, “since this system’s dead now, what’s the backup plan?”
“One of these other machines could have the codes, but it’ll take time to examine them. Time we don’t have.”
“Come again?” Rick had been distracted by the damaged server and looked up at Oles. “Time we don’t have how?”
Oles and Dr. Evans exchanged a glance, then Dr. Evans began to explain. “I’ve suspected that Damocles would reach its final stages of attacks soon. That’s always been in its programming. Escalation until it either receives a kill command, alternate commands or until it reaches its final stages.”
“It can’t possibly do much more harm than it’s already done.”
“There’s plenty left it can do.” Dr. Evans swallowed hard. “It’s designed to infect every system of the target. Civilian and military. Every system.”
“He’s talking about missiles,” Oles interjected. “Nuclear missiles.”
“I guess that would be the final stage, wouldn’t it? What are we supposed to do to stop it if the system with the codes is dead?”
Oles and Dr. Evans exchanged another glance. “Oh, no,” Oles said, “you misunderstand. We have the codes. They were the first things we pulled.”
“What?!” Rick shouted, louder than he had intended. “Then what’s the problem?”
“This system that was damaged was a clean system with authorization on the internal network to get into the outside world. This was supposed to be how we would broadcast the shutdown codes that Damocles would then self-propagate out. Without it… I don’t know how we’ll get the signal out.”
“How much time do we have before Damocles starts blowing more stuff up?”
Dr. Evans shook his head. “It’s impossible to know for certain. Hours, though. Maybe six or eight.”
“Good. That’s enough time.” Rick turned and started walking for the exit.
“For what?”
Rick stopped and looked back at the pair. “To bury our dead.”
Chapter 7
Outside Ellisville, VA
“Bitch!”
A pile of boxes toppled over, spilling their contents across the wood floor in response to Nealson’s swing of his leg. A few cans of food managed to roll their way across the entirety of the room, only coming to a rest when they hit the thin piles of bedding that had been put down for those whom Nealson and his group had captured. The room was empty, save for himself, though there were signs that the woman and her group had ransacked the place before departing.
Nealson gingerly removed his right hand from his left shoulder, grinding his teeth together as a fresh wave of pain went down his arm and across his chest. The pair that had been firing at him during his frantic escape had gotten off at least two full mags, and though several had plinked off the back of his car, only one had actually hit him.
After spending a few hours on the other side of Ellisville with his hand clamped to the through-and-through wound, he decided to risk heading back to the community center. He would need food, water, bandages and more if he wanted to stay alive for more than a few days. Unfortunately, Mark and Sarah’s searching for supplies left him lacking when it came to most of what he immediately needed.
“Looks like she bled out good.” Nealson kicked at a pile of bloody bandages near the front door as he walked around the room, smirking with satisfaction. He had never been one to show mercy to anyone, no matter what their age, but he had taken a large amount of pleasure in shooting Tina in particular. Remembering how much trouble she had been back at the gas station and then again at the farm during the attack made him hope that she was still alive, suffering horribly as she slowly died.
Digging through the boxes with one hand, Nealson finally found what he was looking for. He pulled one of the whisky bottles out and unscrewed the top before tilting it back and drinking deep. The burning in his throat and stomach soon turned to warmth that spread through his whole body, lessening the pain in his shoulder and dulling some of the effects of the cold weather.