Ground Zero

Vercazzi took a deep breath as he looked around the once gleaming buildings of downtown Manhattan. The last five years had taken a toll that only had been imagined in the most elaborate of fantasies. Trees sprouted from the cracks of sidewalks, vines clung to the once polished windows. Every once and awhile a loud crack would be heard and parts of a building would fall down to the ground in a cacophony of noise that was heard by no one.

He wasn’t sure why he was on this mission, just that he had been sent to collect something from a safe at an underground lab that had been setup at the height of what has been called the End Times. He shook his head a bit, realizing whoever came up with the End Times to describe the new world they lived in must have been religious. His right hand rested on the pistol grip of the M4 Carbine that was attached to him via a sling that wrapped around his chest. His left hand rested on the foregrip that came down from the front of the rifle and his eyes, hidden though they were by the polarized sunglasses, scanned out across the open square that was the 9/11 Memorial Park.

As his booted feet took him forward slowly, rifle at the ready, he couldn’t help but laugh softly. Whoever setup this laboratory had a sick sense of humor. Putting it in the 9/11 Museum was ironic, using the area set aside to remember one of the darkest days in US history to try to fix what was now one of the darkest days for humanity. As he thought about it, it made sense. The area provided clear fields of fire and would not easily be assaulted with minimal access points. The signs of that defensive posture were still evident. Sandbags. Machine gun emplacements. The hulks of Bradley Fighting Vehicles, Abrams tanks, support vehicles. All of them testaments to the futility of what the team in this lab had been trying to accomplish.

New York was Ground Zero. Another irony in all of this considering what this area used to be called right after the 9/11 attacks. No one really seemed to understand what had happened but they knew it started with the mRNA vaccines used to combat COVID19. They did their job, as the scientists predicted, but when pharmaceutical industries tried to change the vaccines to use them for other illnesses that is when things went crazy. The people they tested their new ‘miracles’ on began to die and no one could figure out why. By then it was too late, the metaphorical cat was out of the bag and the illness spread like wildfire around the globe. Within a year, 97% of the population of the world had been eradicated and those that were left could not understand why.

The disease didn’t stop there. No, it took 97% of those born in this new world. Extinction of humanity was rapidly approaching.

Vercazzi didn’t understand why he had survived. No one did. But here he was, pushing open those doors of the museum entrance. Five years time made the stink of death dissipate. The bodies that had been inside were long since decomposed and nothing but skeletons. That was the one thing that unnerved him. So many people had died but you wouldn’t know it by looking at the streets. It had to be mother nature, bodies dragged away by feral cats, dogs, and other wildlife for food sources. It was only when you ventured inside a forgotten building did you get reminded of death.

He moved his shades up and walked slowly, illuminating the floor with the light attached to his rifle. The skeletons told a story of course but not one he wanted to dwell on. The virus moved fast, once it infected someone within 12 hours they would be dead. You didn’t even have time to realize you were sick before you were a lifeless corpse, burned by the military teams that were collecting bodies in an effort to stop the spread of the virus.

He walked past the destroyed remains of FDNY Ladder 3. It had been crushed all those years ago by the falling tower and stood as a monument here. He was close now, seeing the door emblazoned with the symbol of the NYC Office of the Chief Medical Examiner. They had a morgue here, to identify remains as they were found and to store those unidentified remains. He shook his head softly. He remembered seeing this place as a young adult, and remembered the day that those towers fell as a teenager. That’s why Central had sent him, he knew the lay of the land. Thankfully he hadn’t run into any marauders that had laid claim to the land. Governments didn’t exist in a traditional sense any longer yet James still wore the camouflage uniform of the US Military, his flag patch still prominent on his sleeve. He worked with a group of people who were trying to find a cure. To save the human race. In their years of searching, they kept coming back to this particular lab.

This lab had made a transmission that they thought they had found the cause. If they found the cause, that meant the cure could be created at least that is what Central hoped. But before any more details could be given, the lab had gone offline. Something about the power grid in NYC failing. Vercazzi couldn’t be sure, obviously, records didn’t exist from that time. He reached out and opened the door to the OCME office, looking to his right and seeing the footprint of what had once been the World Trade Center Towers. He stepped in, that rifle up more to illuminate the darkness than out of fear of something being alive in the room.

He found the lab coat covered skeleton laying in front of the safe and the safe itself was open. Almost as if he had been trying to place something into the safe. That flashlight was brought up to examine the safe and there was the USB drive. The hopes of all of humanity may rest on that very thumb drive. Vercazzi let go of his rifle, allowing it to rest by its strap against the bullet proof vest he wore. His right hand came up, taking the drive and examining it. It was the only thing in that safe and the drive itself was so small.

He marveled at how something so small could save the world. His left hand came up, pulling that gold chain out from under his uniform shirt and vest. That gold locket held in his left hand and opened. There, a picture of happier times. His wife, him, and their dog. A cute photo of a loving couple taken from him those years ago. He placed that USB inside the locket, it was just the right size, and closed it. He held that heart shaped locket in his hand and then closed his hand around it, saying a silent prayer. He placed it back behind his vest and uniform shirt, it rested just near his own heart as he made his way out of the museum, filled with a hope that he hadn’t known for years.