We Who Remain Read online

  “How do we find out?”

  “There has to be people who were out there by the plane, find them, talk to them.”

  “Or, sneak out to the plane,” Mitch joked.

  Liv raised her eye and a serious expression took over.

  “No," Mitch said. “That’s illegal and trespassing, we don’t need to go to jail. Liv, I’m with you. I’ll work with you to figure it out. I want to know, too. Did we stop to think that maybe the comet really doesn’t have anything to do with it? Maybe it was something else? Something we missed in the video?”

  Liv gasped loudly.

  “What?”

  “What if they’re still alive?”

  “Liv ...”

  “No, listen to me. What if they didn’t die? What if this DNA is a rouse, like they saw something on that plane that they don’t want out? What if they are being kept silent, but they are all still alive?”

  A hoarse male voice responded. “They aren’t alive. Trust me,” he said as he walked by. “They are so not alive. Not even close.” He walked with a slight stagger.

  Mitch did a double take. Looked at the man after he said that, then quickly again as he disappeared into the men’s room.

  “Wow, that was rude,” Liv said.

  “Will you excuse me.” Mitch turned.

  “You’re not gonna say anything to him, are you?”

  “No, I have to …” Mitch pointed backwards. “Go. Then we’ll leave.”

  “Sounds good.” As Mitch headed to the bathroom, Liv pulled out her phone, speaking to herself softly, "I don’t care what he says ... they could be alive.” And with that thought, she sent her husband a text with her latest theory.

  <><><><>

  The man with the ‘they aren’t alive’ comment, stood in front of the middle urinal, hand on the wall for support while his other controlled the stream.

  Mitch never got that. Why did people use the middle urinal when the others were empty?

  He approached the man and stood next to him.

  The man swung his head upward to Mitch. “Do you always make it a habit to stand next to a man at a urinal when he’s taking a piss?’

  “No, only when I have to go.”

  “You’re not going.”

  “I know. Are you …? I know you … are you Bob Stevens?” Mitched asked.

  “Who wants to know?” he asked.

  “Mitch. Me. I’m Mitch. You’re the sole survivor of 6520. My parents died on that flight.”

  “Yep, they did.” Bob zipped up his pants, flushed and headed to the sink.

  “Look, me and my friend out there, we don’t for one second believe there was a flash fire. We think something else happened. We aren’t the press or anyone who will tell another soul. We just need to know. Are you Bob Stevens?”

  “I am.”

  “Bob, please, what happened on the plane?” Mitch asked. “What did you see?”

  Bob finished washing his hands, tossed the paper towel and looked at Mitch. “You buying?”

  Mitch said ‘yes’ but didn’t know what he was talking about until Bob led the way to the bar.

  <><><><>

  In the hotel bar, Bob lifted his hand to signal Mitch and Liv to hold on and he faced the bartender. “You have desert?”

  “We do,” The bartender replied.

  “Strawberry short cake if you have it,” said Mitch.

  “We have Strawberry cheesecake.”

  “Even better, with extra whipped cream please. And a bourbon, double. He’s buying,” Bob indicated to Mitch.

  When the bartender looked at Mitch, he simply said, “Same.”

  “Me, too,” added Liv.

  The bartender punched something into the computer, then lined up the drinks. He hadn’t even poured Liv’s yet when Bob downed his.

  “Another and keep them coming. We’re gonna go sit at that table.” Bob slid from the barstool, stumbling some.

  “You alright?” Mitch asked him.

  “Yeah, yeah, just heavily medicated,” Bob answered.

  “Should you be drinking?” Liv asked.

  “I should.” Bob led them to a small round table and sat down with a heavy sigh. “Yesterday was the worst day of my life. The worst. I need the medication or I’ll go crazy.”

  “Mixing medication with alcohol,” Liv said. “Can be deadly.”

  Bob laughed “I don’t care.”

  “Was it a flash fire?” Mitch asked.

  Bob shook his head. “Far from it. Somebody on that plane released a biological weapon.”

  “Are you sure?” Mitch asked.

  “It’s the only explanation,” Bob replied. “I’m not supposed to talk about it. They told me not to talk about it. But … no one is asking anything, and I want to talk. You two asked. Did you have people on the flight?”

  Mitch nodded. “My parents.”

  “My brother was a flight attendant.”

  “Bran?” Bob asked. “He was such a fun guy. Always had the passengers laughing with his antics. I’m sorry for both of you.” He lifted the empty glass. “I told him to keep them coming.”

  “If it was a bioweapon,” Mitch asked. “Why do you think you survived?”

  “I’m an alcoholic,” Bob answered.

  Liv commented, “So you think alcohol in your system saved you?”

  “No.” Bob shook his head “I had to check cargo and I snuck in the one room to have a drink. I was below the main cabin in a storage room.”

  “And when you came up,” Mitch questioned. “What did you see that made you know it was a bioweapon?”

  “The passengers.” Bob answered.

  “Okay, what did they look like?” Mitch asked.

  The bartender returned with a fresh drink and set the black plate in front of Bob with a fork. It has a huge slice of cheesecake with strawberry sauce drizzled on it. A whipped cream circle surrounded it.

  “Perfect timing,” Bob said. He thanked the bartender, downed a huge gulp of his drink and lifted his fork.

  Humming some sort of song, Bob proceeded to smash the cheesecake, bringing the whipped cream into the mashed mess. He was careful with the strawberry sauce, not to mix that in too much. He swirled his fork through a few times and smiled at his creation. “There. Perfect.” He set the fork down.

  “I’m confused,” Mitch said. “Why did you order that if you weren’t going to eat it?”

  “You asked what I saw, right? You asked what the passengers looked like, right?” Bob said “I saw what remained of the passengers. And this …” He pushed the culinary mess forward. “Is what it looked like.”

  <><><><>

  “Drunk.” Liv paused just outside the hotel to light her cigarette.

  “Of course, he was drunk,” Mitch said, “The question is, was he so drunk he lied?”

  “I don’t know. I think he may be remembering things wrong.”

  “The news did say he was really distraught. But he didn’t seem it.” Mitch shrugged. “Maybe it was the booze.”

  “He had a day of drinking steadily.” She started to walk with him to the parking lot.

  “Did you want to stop somewhere and get lunch?” Mitch asked.

  “After that little visual display? No. Not yet.”

  “Who does that? He had to be messing with us,” Mitch said.

  “Oh, I can see that,” Liv said, as she walked. “Playing with us to get free booze. Plus, really, if that was what he saw and they really didn’t want him talking to people, why did they just let him walk around the hotel? I’m pretty sure if he really knew what was being covered up, the feds would be all over his ass.”

  No sooner did she say that, no sooner did they step to cross the road to the parking lot, a black SUV sped up, cutting them off and coming to a screeching halt in front of them.

  Mitch had done that mother thing, extending his arm to stop Liv, as if that would have helped.

  “Dudes,” Liv blasted when two men in dark suits hurriedly got out of the vehicle.
“You almost killed us.”

  Whispering, Mitch leaned toward her. “I don’t think they were trying to hit us.”

  “Mitch Connelly. Liv Nolan,” The one man said and opened the back door. “We need you to come with us.”

  Liv shook her head. “We have plans. Thanks.”

  “Ma’am.” The one opened his jacket, to pull out his wallet, when he did, he exposed a handgun, and flashed his government badge. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”

  7 – ROAD TRIP

  Dayton, OH

  “Let me get this straight,” Mark said. “You’re in Dayton?”

  “I think. I’m not sure.” Liv looked around as she spoke on the phone. The room was small with white walls, metal chairs. Bob sat in one and Mitch paced, stopping to look out the little window. “But I know we’re in Dayton or close.”

  “I see. Liv, when I said to look into this if you want, I didn’t mean go two hundred miles away.”

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “Wait. What? What do you mean you didn’t have a choice?”

  “We were leaving the hotel. We gave blood for DNA, and were leaving when this black SUV speeds up, and these two guys get out. I think they were FBI.”

  “Homeland,” Mitch corrected. “They were Homeland.”

  “Really? Homeland? They just seemed too tough to be homeland.” She returned to the phone. “Homeland grabbed us and put us in the SUV. Said we didn’t have a choice.”

  “Are you serious?” Mark asked.

  “I think I need a lawyer,” said Liv.

  “We probably do,” Mitch said, replying as he eavesdropped on her call.

  “Won’t do any good,” Bob yelled out.

  “Where are you?” Mark asked.

  “I don’t know,” Liv replied.

  “You need to find out. I can’t help if I don’t know where you are. Please tell me this isn’t your one phone call.”

  “I don’t think. I’m using my own phone. Mark, they spouted out they were detaining us on …”

  “Reasonable suspicion,” Mitch said.

  Liv conveyed it to Mark. “Reasonable suspicion.”

  “Which blankets it all!” Bob shouted. “You’re being nosey!”

  “Shut up, Bob.”

  “Whose Bob?” Mark asked.

  “The co-pilot that survived the plane incident.”

  “They detained him, too?” Mark asked.

  “Probably to keep his mouth shut,” Liv said. “He had no problem telling us.”

  “About what, Liv?” Mark asked.

  “What he saw.”

  “Liv, what did he see? You need—”

  “Mark? Mark?” Liv looked at her phone, saw the call ended and tried again. She had no service. “Fuck!”

  “What is it?” Mitch asked.

  “My phone cut off.”

  “That was them,” Bob said.

  Liv stared at him for a second. She had an inkling there was going to be trouble when she and Mitch got in the back of the SUV and Bob was there.

  No one said anything to them for the trip to the airport, and they flew a short flight, debarked on the tarmac, were whisked away in the car for a longer ride. A sign saying Dayton was the only indication on where they were.

  The three of them hadn’t been in the room for very long when the door opened and two more, what Liv believed to be, agents stepped in.

  “Can we go?” Liv asked. “I really want to go home. Not sure if you know this, but we lost family on that plane. We just want to go home.”

  The simple reply of, “Not just yet. We need to talk.” Angered Liv. What was there to talk about? To her, there was no reason whatsoever to keep and hold them on reasonable suspicion.

  Reasonable suspicion of what?

  <><><><>

  Rose City, MI

  While her husband Walker lagged behind, checking on the mobile equipment, Malory made her way into the small town of Rose City. She wore protective clothing and exercised extreme caution.

  She couldn’t believe the state of the human remains was the same as on Flight 6520. In fact, when making her way there, she and Walker did the math and calculations. 6520 would have been in the vicinity of Rose City when everything happened.

  Did 6520 Airdrop the weapon?

  She had entertained several theories, all of which were shot down by Walker, and eventually she had to dismiss them. Homeland contacted her to let her know they were certain it was a weapon.

  The comet and happenings in Rose City … coincidence,

  Mallory was to focus on what it was and could it happen again.

  Carefully, she moved to each marked area of human remains to get a sample.

  She was so engrossed that when there was a tap on her shoulder, she nearly fell over.

  Mallory spun around facing a stout older man wearing a military uniform. No protective clothing, by the stars on his lapel, she knew he was a general. He looked at her smugly.

  “Can you hear me in that?” he asked.

  “Sir, really, this is a biohazard area. Surely you are aware of procedure?”

  “I am, and you can call me General or Buford. That little outfit isn’t needed. You’re fine.” He gave a twitch of his head and a wave. “Come with me to that trailer, there, will you?”

  “Yes, General.”

  “Thank you very much.”

  She watched him walk away. He probably was right. The effectiveness of the weapon had long since disbursed. She went back to her own mobile tent to disinfect before visiting the general in his office.

  The General had a cup of coffee waiting for her, when Mallory walked in. There was another military gentleman in the trailer, seated at a desk at the far wall with a lot of computer monitors.

  “Thank you for coming, Doctor …?” Buford asked.

  “Gimble, but please call me Mallory.”

  “My niece’s name is Mallory. Anyhow … do you know why I called the CDC?”

  “Obviously, the deaths of the people in this town,” Mallory replied.

  “And the next and the next,” Buford said.

  “Oh my God, I wasn’t aware.”

  “You are now.” Buford folded his hands on the desk. “Has the CDC by chance been brought in for Flight 6520?”

  She hesitated, her lips only moving in contemplation of what to say.

  “I’m going to take that …” Buford waved his finger. “As a yes.”

  “Surely, you would have knowledge of 6520.”

  “I don’t. Now, knowing the flight pattern, and knowing that plane was over this at about the time everything happened here, I’m gonna guess something other than flash fire happened onboard that plane.”

  “Yes, it did.”

  “Are the victims the same?” Buford asked.

  “They are.”

  Buford sat back. “Just as I thought.”

  “We’re trying to figure out what did this. What kind of chemical compound could do this?”

  From his desk, without even turning around, the other military man spoke up. “You won’t find it. It’s coming up unknown as well as it should.”

  “Not for long,” Mallory said. “Homeland notified me that they have three suspects in custody.”

  “Three? In custody? For this?” Buford said. “You don’t say.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Is it the Father, Son and Holy Ghost?”

  “What?” Mallory asked confused.

  “This was no act of terrorism, ma’am,” Buford said. “This is far greater than that.”

  “General, honestly, are you talking about Alexander?”

  “I am.”

  “That comet didn’t cause this. I know that video was misleading, but it was meant to mislead.”

  “Now see there’s something I don’t know about. What video?” Buford asked.

  “One of the suspects had a supposed video that she said was a comet.”

  Buford turned to the other military man, “George, see if you
can locate that.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Mallory gave a quirky smile. “Are you really saying it was the comet? You really believe that?”

  “We know it is,” Buford said. “And this isn’t the first time this has happened and was covered up. Ashley Kansas, Donora, Pennsylvania. New Complex City New Jersey. Donora people got sick and died, the other two, they disappeared, and that is a just a few.”

  “Don’t let him fool you,” George said. “I informed him of these.”

  “How is it possible?” Mallory asked. “A comet.”

  “When it comes close, when it makes impact, it releases a chemical. One we can’t identify,” Buford said.

  “Why are you covering it up? There are two more coming.”

  “Exactly,” Buford said. “Both are big. Neither is going to get anywhere near as close as Alexander, so we don’t think there’s anything to worry about. And if there is ...” Buford shrugged. “What can you do about it? Nothing. So why cause wide spread panic? That’s exactly what will happen. Let people enjoy the light show. Chances are they’ll be fine.”

  Mallory hoped he was right. In the meantime, she wanted to look into the comet explanation more, and if by chance the general was wrong, at least homeland had three suspects.

  <><><><>

  Dayton, OH

  “Domestic terrorism,” one on the agents said to her when they took her alone in a back room.

  She looked at the two men. One nice, one mean and serious. Good agent, bad agent.

  It was laughable to her.

  “There is no basis,” Liv replied. “None.”

  “Really,” Bad Agent said. “We believe that you orchestrated it, Mitch created it, and Bob delivered it.”

  “I orchestrated it?” Liv asked.

  Bad Agent flipped through his notes. “You have a steady habit of looking up end of the world scenarios.”

  “It’s a hobby.”

  “The last few months, regularly you searched ways a comet could cause a disruption.”