H7N9: The Complete Series [Books 1-3] by Campbell Mark

Author:Campbell, Mark [Campbell, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Post-Apocalyptic | Dystopian | Pandemic
Publisher: Darkest Hour
Published: 2019-12-18T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 6

Mark Hammond sat at a round conference table in what was once someone’s dining room. The dusty drapes were pulled shut across the windows and blocked out the afternoon sun. An ornate grandfather clock stood in the corner and its brass pendulum dutifully ticked away at the passing seconds.

Of all the other rooms in the drab, depressing house, Hammond hated the dining room most of all.

The dining room was where the higher-ups summoned him when they had bad news to share with him.

When the red phone rang in his office on that day, November 25th, just after 1:00 PM, it was just as he expected—bad news had arrived.

Hammond sat slouched at the only seat at the table which was surrounded by video conference monitors suspended from the ceiling.

Two agents from his personal security detail stood solemnly behind him with their hands behind their backs.

After the men on the video screens finished speaking for what felt to Hammond like hours, an uncomfortable silence lingered in the air. The repetitive tick-tock sound of the grandfather clock only served to make things worse.

He knew that they were waiting for his response.

Hammond stared up impassively at the video monitors.

The generals stared back at him. They all wore dress uniforms decked with full regalia.

Hammond, meanwhile, wore nothing more than his bathrobe and some slippers. He felt underdressed, but he really didn’t care. What did bother him was the look of disgusted pity that was evident in the men’s faces.

They stared at him as if he were the drunken uncle that ruined another family reunion, or as if he were some senile geriatric that they were tasked with caring for while he did nothing more than waste away and defecate himself.

Didn’t they know that he was once just like them?

He hadn’t always been a lush wallowing his depression away with whiskey.

He once had money.

He once had power.

He once—

“Do you understand the implications, Director Hammond?” one of the generals asked, breaking Hammond out of his train of thought.

Hammond frowned at the half-witted question.

After all, it wasn’t that hard to figure out.

There was an outbreak of cholera and typhoid at another camp—what else was new? What made matters worse, was the fact that those anti-government separatist assholes were rousing people up.

Judging by the drone footage that Hammond had been allowed to see, there was a fine shitshow unfolding over at Director Moll’s camp in Nebraska. Things were falling apart and if the camp fell, then the city that they were reconstructing would be the next domino to fall.

Apparently nobody at the top wanted to risk losing the fine city of Lincoln, Nebraska.

God only knew why.

In Hammond’s mind, Lincoln was about as worthless as Topeka—they were both insignificant dots on flyover states.

Moll’s camp needed more troops, ammunition, and food—three things that Hammond’s camp was badly in need of itself. A real fine shitshow indeed. Resources were to be diverted from Hammond’s camp since his was the closest and, according to the talking heads on the screens, the one that had the least security issues.

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