Chapter 99: Taran

I want to shout back, to tell them they're wrong. That Diogo is a good man, that he protects me, and he protects the city. That they're not doing themselves any favours by rioting. Diogo shoves me into the back of his jeep before I can draw a breath, let alone speak.
"Head down, Taran." He shoves my upper body down into the seat. I curl against the worn leather and cradle my head in my hands in case anyone is stupid enough to shoot out the back window. I'm starting to think leaving the Tower wasn't such a good idea. For weeks I believed that Diogo was exaggerating the riots, that he was being overprotective. Now that I see them with my own eyes, I understand.
I lift my head from the seat, sorrow washing through me. "Diogo," I whisper. He's sitting in the passenger seat covering us while Grayson drives. At first, I don't think he hears me, and then he turns his head, his eyes meeting mine for just a second before he looks back out the window. "I'm sorry," I tell him sincerely. I am sorry. Sorry I didn't believe him, sorry that I'd complained so much about being cooped up, sorry that his city is falling down around him.
He seems to understand what I mean in those few words. He keeps his eyes forward, but he reaches back with his free hand, the one not holding a gun, and places it over my head, the gesture both protective and reassuring.
I watch from my limited position as we pass through checkpoints, some of them surrounded by blazing fires and armed guards warning off rioters as we pass. The fires and smoke grow thicker as we head to the guard station. I realize the control room must be there.
"Come on," Diogo says grimly, getting swiftly from the vehicle and reaching back to help me out. He covers me with his body and rushes me into the guard station.
"You," he snaps at the nearest guard. "I want more men over here while my wife is in attendance. Pull them from police duty if you have to. Triple the guards on the doors and roof."
"But Commander, the men are already stretched - "
"Dismissed," Diogo cuts him off. "You're off the elite guard. Leave your weapons and go. If you hesitate, you'll be arrested for insubordination."
He turns to the next man and raises an eyebrow. The guy snaps to attention and gives Diogo a sharp nod. "Consider it done."
Without another word Diogo pulls me down a nearby hallway. I twist around trying to catch a glimpse of the guy he just fired. "I don't think that was well done, Diogo. He was just giving you his opinion. A pretty valid one probably," I admonish him.
He doesn't bother looking back when he says. "I'll invite my men to submit their opinions when I'm ready to hear them. When It comes to the security of my family there can be no hesitation."
Perhaps if I didn't have a turnip nestled under my breast, I would argue his autocratic statement, but the baby has changed my views on many things. If Diogo wants to go overboard on safety, who am I to argue?
We enter what I assume is the control room. A man sits at a desk next to a radio. He swivels in his seat as we enter.
"Bossman, report," Diogo barks.
"Commander." Boss stands, his back ramrod straight and his arms straight by his sides. "I'm getting strange messages from all over the country."
I can tell right away that this is unusual. The tension in the room goes up as the men look at each other. Behind us Cruz, Stryker and a few others pile in.
"What kind of messages?"
"Well." He turns back to the radio. "The first message came from Santa Fe Sanctuary. Hang on, it's coming in on repeat, almost like a recording."
He flips a switch and turns a dial. I don't know much about radios, but I know enough to realize he's changing frequencies. At first we hear nothing, then some intermittent static. Then, finally, a voice bursts through.
"Mayday, mayday, Santa Fe Sanctuary has fallen. Repeat, Santa Fe has fallen."
I gasp and reach for the radio. My sister's sanctuary! Boss shakes his head. "The message is on a loop. I don't think anyone is actually picking up our signal anymore."
"What the hell has happened?" Diogo demands. "The city was stable when we were there. How can they have fallen so quickly?"
"It's not just them. Sanctuaries from all over the East are calling in and requesting Sanctuary for their citizens. From what I can tell there was a catastrophic failure at one of those old power plants, which seems to have caused a chain reaction. There have been at least four meltdowns that I know of so far at power plants in completely different places."
"How is that possible?" Diogo demands.
Boss shrugs. "Can't tell. They shouldn't be connected in any way, yet there's a definite cascade pattern. One goes and a few hours later another."
Diogo paces the room. "The plants are mostly out East?"
"Yes, Commander. Our ancestors were smart enough not to put too many of them in the Western earthquake zones."
"Good," Diogo mutters.
"Not good, sir," Boss contradicts him. Diogo gives him a sharp look. "We have three plants in a close enough vicinity to cause some major damage. Two were safely shut down directly after the Great Fall, but one still functions automatically. They can run for years without human interference, but if something interrupts the system, or the circuitry wears out, a failure can occur. Whatever is happening out East can possibly happen here too."
"If something happens, will we be in the exclusion zone?" Diogo demands.
"Yes, Commander," he replies emphatically.
Diogo's eyes meet mine. Although I know he worries about me, protects me with everything he has, I've never seen fear in his eyes. Not until today.
"I don't understand what's happening" My voice trails off.
His stern gaze holds mine and I can tell he doesn't want to tell me. I stare steadily back at him, giving him no choice.
"I've been hearing rumours for years. More than rumours actually, a theory proposed by scientific historians," he finally tells me. "Do you know what a nuclear power plant is?"
"No." The words aren't even familiar to me.
"They used to be how people would draw energy for electricity, power, everything," he explains.
Now those words I have heard of.
"But the power can be dangerous. Historians have talked about the terrible consequences if that power loses containment. The power plant reactors can go into meltdown. The devastation can reach far across the land, can affect people in cities far away from the power plant."
"Okay," I say slowly. "And what happens to the people affected by this?"
"When a reactor goes it generates massive amounts of radiation, which can't be contained. Imagine the hottest day of summer out in the middle of the desert, only a thousand times hotter. That's what's happening inside one of those reactors. The heat generates radiation, and high doses of radiation can poison people, animals, plants, everything. A nuclear meltdown will kill everything far and wide in the exclusion zone and poison the area for years after. Eventually the radiation can mix with the soil and water and end up in the atmosphere, mixing with weather patterns and moving around the world."
I'm shocked that I've never heard any of this before. It sounds so devastating. I suppose since humans don't use nuclear energy anymore, we have no reason to learn about it. "Has this not happened since the Great Fall. How are these places allowed to still exist if they're such a threat to humanity?"
Diogo shakes his head and comes over to place a hand comfortingly on my shoulder. "Baby, there is no safe way to get rid of these places entirely. When the Primitives attacked, the stations that weren't safely shut down were abandoned by the workers. The meltdowns are inevitable. What I don't understand is why they're happening in a cascade."
Boss pipes up. "Near as I can tell, there seems to be massive Primitive horde attacks on Sanctuary cities after each failure. It almost feels as though they've figured out a strategy and are using the plants to their advantage."
"How is that possible?" Cruz points out. "Primitives are well Primitive. They lack the ability to reason to that capacity."
No one speaks for a moment.
"Don't they?" Cruz asks.
A chill goes through the room as we all imagine the possibilities inherent in Primitives that can think and reason, but still contain the vicious drive to hunt prey. Are we wrong in our beliefs or are they evolving? Bishop is right, there hasn't been enough research done on these creatures.
"But wouldn't a nuclear meltdown kill them too?" I ask.
Boss shrugs. "Who knows. Don't think anyone's ever experimented with zombies and radiation before."
I turn to Diogo. "I want to try to contact my sister's Sanctuary. If a Primitive horde is attacking them, I need to know."
He nods to Bossman who hands me the receiver. I grip the radio so hard my fingers feel stiff. I choke back a sob and speak as calmly as I can. "Santa Fe Sanctuary, we're receiving your transmission. Please tell us, are there any survivors?"
Static feedback greets my desperate question. I sag back against Diogo a sob catching in my throat as we wait for confirmation. The more time that passes, the more I despair. My voice high with terror, I repeat the transmission. When no one answers, I turn in Diogo's arms, the radio slipping from my fingers. He catches in and holds me tight against his body. I feel him shift, bring the radio to his mouth.
"Santa Fe Sanctuary, please report. Do you have any survivors?"
More static.
Then, "Yes. The survivors of Santa Fe request Sanctuary."
"Granted," Diogo says without pause, his arm wrapped tight around me.
I shiver against him, releasing a tense sob. "Thank you," I whisper, my voice breaking. I know his philosophy on refugees and how they will strain our resources.
"If there's any chance that your sister is among the survivors then I won't take the chance of having her die in the desert."
I smile through the tears and hug him hard, placing my ear against his heart. "I love you, Diogo."
He kisses the top of my head. We turn to leave when the radio crackles again. We turn back to look at Lieutenant Bossman.
"Is that Santa Fe?" Diogo demands.
"No Commander, the signal is coming in on another frequency. Hang on" Boss makes some adjustments.
Suddenly a voice bursts through clear as day. "Mayday, mayday. Nashville Sanctuary is down, overrun with Primitives. We request Sanctuary."
Boss looks toward Diogo who shakes his head. Instead of responding Boss turns to another channel and another voice fills the room.
"Please, anyone, Little Rock requests Sanctuary."
Another channel, another voice.
"Jackson is down, we're under attack. Please are there any Sanctuaries left?"
We look at each other.
"All the Eastern sanctuaries." I point out what we're all thinking.
"Mayday, mayday."
"Austen down request Sanctuary."
"Atlanta has fallen Sanctuary."
It hurts to listen to the desperation in the voices. To listen and know what exactly is coming our way. A wave of refugees from fallen sanctuaries, too many for us to accommodate, with hordes of Primitives following close behind.
"Turn it off," Diogo says quietly, and Boss turns to comply, relief written on his face. The voices are an eerie, heartbreaking foreshadowing of our possible future.
Just before he can flip the switch, one more lonely voice, broken by static feedback, filters through
"Mayday Sanctuary."