Read Apocalypse (The Wasteland Chronicles, #1) for Free Online Page B

The purple slime covered their heads, their bodies,
their mouths, their eyes. The odds of their escaping the xenovirus
were slim to none.
    They stared at us, and I saw nothing but
horror in their faces. My father, his glasses in his hand, stared
at the floor. Chan, however, was eerily calm. Hate glinted in his
eyes, as if I were to blame for what had happened.
    “Everyone, to the showers,” my father said.
He looked at me as he said this, though I knew he was not talking
to me. “There is still a chance it might not be too late.”
    There was an air of defeat in his voice.
    “Stay here,” Chan said to us. “You are not to
leave. And keep your distance.”
    They filed off for the showers, leaving Khloe
and me alone in the med bay.
    “Maybe…maybe they’ll be okay…” Khloe said.
“It’s not impossible, is it?”
    “I don’t know.”
    We just stood there, not talking, for the
whole time we waited. I could not suppress the sickening dread
mounting up. Ten minutes later, all four men reemerged wearing blue
scrubs.
    Before anyone else could, Chan spoke.
    “Stay here,” he said. “Stay here, and
wait.”
    He raised his radio.
    “Officer Hutton, report to the medical bay
immediately.”
    Everyone waited in silence for the one minute
it took for Officer Hutton to come. When he entered the bay, he
stopped short, his normally stony demeanor betraying shock. He was
of average height and broad build, and had a trim black beard and
short black hair. Burt Hutton was Chan’s second in command.
    “What is going on?” Officer Hutton asked, his
gaze running up and down the four men’s scrubs.
    “Come with me,” Chan said. “All of you. Alex,
Khloe, Hutton… and stay on the other side of Dr. Keener’s
desk.”
    We followed Chan into my father’s office. He
sat down in the chair. For the first time in my life, I saw Chan
scared. His face was white.
    Khloe, Officer Hutton, and I stood by the
door. The other four men stood on the far side of the desk.
    The room was quiet for a long while. Chan
looked up.
    “There is not a small chance,” he began,
“that Dr. Keener, his assistants, Ybarra and Jones, and I will soon
fall ill and die.”
    Hutton’s eyes widened. “What is this, some
sort of joke?”
    “Officer Hutton,” Chan said, “you know full
well that there is no chance that I would joke about a matter of
such gravity.”
    Hutton stared at Chan in shock. But Chan went
on regardless.
    “In a matter of days – maybe even hours – I
will likely be dead, along with everyone else who was in the room
with the patient. We are infected with the xenovirus, a strain that
targets humans.”
    I searched my father’s eyes for some other
answer – any answer save this. But he was grave and clearly
believed in his own doom as much as did Chan.
    Chan was giving Hutton instructions. Assemble
the Officers, making them aware of the situation. Post a constant
guard of four Officers by the medical bay, allowing no one to enter
or exit. Chan gave Officer Hutton full authority to do all this
and, as Chan’s second, to assume control of the Bunker.
    It sounded so clinical, the way Chan made
plans for four eventual deaths. How could his mind work so clearly
at a time like this? It made me hate him, the fact that he did not
even acknowledge the tragedy of the situation.
    My dad was dying.
    “Lead the children out, and return them to
their families.”
    “This is my family!” I yelled, pointing at my
dad. “He is all I have!”
    Everyone was looking at me. Khloe and my
father had tears in their eyes.
    “It will be alright, son,” my dad said. “I’ll
be fine.”
    “How do you know that?” I asked, tears
stinging my eyes. “You don’t.”
    “You can stay with us,” Khloe whispered.
    “That will do nicely,” Chan said, glad to
have me out of the way.
    “Dad, is this it? Will I ever see you
again?”
    He looked at me without a word. This time, he
did not lie. His eyes told me everything.
    I walked up, meaning to hug