Wasted World | Episode 2

His walkie-talkie had squawked a few times after the first few hours, but eventually went silent. That would’ve been his boss, Richard Sheffield—in charge of all security—trying desperately to raise one of his staff. Richard never should’ve left his office, Louie thought. He never should’ve sealed himself away with all those other poor suckers and left the control room unattended.
Louie had taken Tom Braden’s card and headed straight for the main security control center. There he had disabled all the keys and sealed off the emergency living quarters. Richard, of course, would’ve tried exiting with his key, but he would’ve been as helpless as all the others. Louie snickered. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Richard; he was a good boss but picturing the so-called security chief trying to explain to everyone that his key wouldn’t work must have been hilarious.
“Not funny, Louie,” he scolded himself. “Those people have been cooped up long enough. They’re probably worried sick not knowing what happened to all their loved ones.” He chuckled again. “Worried sick... they ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
He pulled the walkie-talkie from his belt and spoke into it. “Hello? Richard? Anybody there?”
It took almost half a minute for Richard to respond. “Who is this? Oh my God, are there people really out there? Please respond, we’ve been stuck in here for days.” He sounded out of breath, as if he’d set the transceiver down somewhere days ago and forgotten where he’d put it.
“Calm down, Richard. It’s Louie, and everything’s going to be okay.”
“Jesus... Louie? What’s happened out there? Why the hell won’t my key work?”
“Easy. One thing at a time.” Louie released the talk button and breathed in deeply. He had been waiting for something like this to happen for years. He was in control. There was no one to answer to for what he was about to do, no consequences. His heart was pounding with exhilaration, and Louie wanted the feeling to last forever. It was the main reason he’d waited this long to put his plan into action. He had spent the last four days planning, anticipating, and building his courage. Louie pressed the button back down and continued in a slow, sure voice. “I have a gun, Richard. It’s very big and very powerful. I want everyone to step back from the door. I want at least twenty feet between me and you when these doors open in about one minute. I’ll shoot the first person that moves. Do you understand?” He looked at the Taser resting on the canisters. It wasn’t big, and it wasn’t all that powerful, but the folks on the other side of the doors didn’t know that.
There was a long pause. “Louie? Are you okay? Are you feeling ill?”
He thinks I’m deranged, that the bomb did something to me... probably figures I’m suffering from radiation sickness. “No, I’m not ill. Get back away from the doors. I’ll explain everything when we’re face to face.” Louie turned the power off on his hand-held and shoved it back in his pocket. He reached into the pocket of his shirt and pulled out a thumb drive. He inserted it into the receiving port on top of the closest canister and watched the little green light blink. Louie had worried that the miniaturized computer chips might not work at all after the bomb. He didn’t know much about EMPs, but there was a concern the circuitry had been fried. Something inside the canister lid clicked, and Louie removed the lid carefully. He set the canister back upright in its gurney slot and repeated the process with all the other canisters.
Louie realized there was a chance the diseases stewing about within could infect him. He held his breath the entire time and prayed for the best. He unlocked the doors and pulled one open. He saw Richard first, standing next to Tom Braden. Others were clustered behind them, anxious and unmoving. They looked confused and worried, but not at all scared. What was there to fear? Their savior had arrived. They were free.
Louie pushed the gurney with all of his strength into a wall less than ten feet from the stunned DSC employees. Canisters toppled over and clanged against the floor. Somebody started screaming, but the noise was cut off as Louie stepped back and slammed the door shut. His fingers shook as he tried inserting the security key into the wall control panel. It finally slid in, and Louie punched the five digit lock code in. He leaned up against the doors and exhaled the breath he forgot he was still holding. “Okay,” he whispered, “I’m no fucking scientist.”
Louie took the elevator back up to level 2. He grabbed two hard bran muffins from the cafeteria and headed for the security control room. He sat into a chair facing multiple surveillance monitors. Maybe HR was right. I should’ve kept my mouth shut and stuck with what I was good at... Security software. Monitoring... watching people. Louie typed on a keyboard and the monitor directly in front of him lit up. It showed a view from behind the reception desk on level 10. He typed some more, and the monitor next to it flickered into life.
“What the fuck?” He leaned forward and made sure the video feed was set on live mode. Louie tossed a half-eaten muffin aside and slammed his fist against the desk. “Why aren’t they dying?” The gurney had been set back up on its wheels. Tom Braden was placing the last canister back in its slot. He was moving carefully but didn’t appear all that terrified. Others were gathered around him, shaking their heads and talking amongst themselves. Louie couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they definitely weren’t suffering. They weren’t choking and frothing at the mouth. “What’s wrong with you morons?” He yelled at the screen. “That’s frickin’ Ebola and smallpox floating in the air around you!”
Tom finished