It was back to the armory after that. Plinking away at targets at the range. Ear plugs in, and the muffled staccato of gunfire.
Fran mouthed something. Harold put his weapon on safety, and motioned for her to do the same. They took their earplugs out.
"What did you dream about, Harold? I mean, really." She asked.
"He offered me something I'd never agree to." He said morosely.
"What did he offer you?!" She demanded to know.
"Something that would destroy everything I stand for." Harold stared away from her again, for the tenth, perhaps twentieth time in a day. His eyes began to water.
"Folie a' deux. That's what you these dreams are. A figure who representives the devil, and one who represents the good side of us." She said, and he pondered.
"No, I don't. I don't think it's some form of madness. Perhaps some form of collective consciousness." He concluded.
Elsewhere, a man in a bleak, barren cell pondered his own existence. He had absolutely nothing to eat in his sterile prison. The pneumatic locks prevented even rats from passing into it. Stuart Redman was completely and utterly alone. He had been in there for two, maybe three weeks. He could see the rotting corpse of Denninger, Ellis, and the so called "Doctor" Cobb, who had tried his way into his room before he collapsed into a coughing fit after shooting the first two. Denninger tried his best to help Cobb into his room, after he shot Ellis. He tried not to think about it. In his mind, he could see how they died.
"Come on, Cobb, you know this is the last best chance to beat this thing!" Ellis shouted back.
"You know that 99% of the population will be dead in a week." Cobb replied.
"What about... some experimental serum.. Something for those in the bunkers.." Denninger responded.
"Fuck them, and fuck your golden boy. You know General Starkey is dead." Said Cobb, as he fired off two shots. Then, he heard Cobb trying to force the door to no access.
"Access denied." Said a calm, sterile computerized voice.
He heard the man outside empty a clip into the door itself, and then the sound of ricochets, and pain. That had been a week ago. He had eaten his last MRE four days ago.
In this airtight government facility, he heard the clicker-clack of boot heels on the ground.
"Hello? It's me, it's me, I'm Ernest T... I'm from the government, and I'm here to help!" said a voice with a sardonic titter.
"Who... Who are you?" He asked.
"I'm the best friend you'll ever have. See, I'm the man who's going to let you out of this high-tech sarcophagus. Normally, I wouldn't make this offer, especially to you... But my first choice... he didn't make the cut. Mr. Redman. Guess he just wasn't the survivor type. My name is Richard Farraday, and I've come to let you out." He added.
"This is a hallucination. The doors outside are three feet of solid steel." Stu concluded, and sighed.
"Well, if you want me to leave, I'll take my lunchbox with me and hit the dusty trail. I wish you luck, my friend. But I don't give second chances." He began to walk away.
"Going once, going twice!" He shouted as he walked away.
"Wait!" Stu shouted.
"How do I know you're not one of them? How do I know you won't just pop me in the head like Cobb was going to?" He asked desperately, looking for some sort of hope.
"Stu, I'm nothing like that fellow with the self-inflicted hole in the head outside your quarters. No tricks, no glamours, I can let you out of there. All I need is a promise of loyalty." He requested.
"Loyalty to what? The government? Did... did they figure something out? How many people are left?!" He asked.
"Not many. But we're going to need all the help we need to rebuild, West Texas." Farraday responded.
"How... How do you know my name? How do you know where I'm from?" Stu covered his face with his hands.
"Why, I read your file. Everything I needed to know was up there in the General's office. Stank to high heaven. Even in this place, the flies manage to get in. So much for hermetic seals and such, am I right? The emergency generators should be coming on any... moment." Farraday snapped his fingers, and the lights turned back on. The air-conditioning kicked back on carrying the sickly sweet scent of decay with it.
"Let me out of here and we'll talk about this. You got any food?" He asked desperately.
"I suspect we can scrounge something up." Farraday replied. The door opened, and Stu walked out. The man didn't look like he was from the government. He was dressed in jeans, very casual, like a fellow Texan. That was almost a comfort to him after his experience with the feds.
"Civilization is going to come back, in a big way. All I need are people willing to do their part in it." Richard stated.