Hallelujah Book 1

By Jamie Brown

This is the first book in a trilogy.
Set in the near future, the story tells of the journey of survivors of war and plague to a promised land where they can build a new society, one that avoids the mistakes of the past.It is filled with tragedy and happiness, brutality and love, shaping the destinies of the small group that wander the shattered countryside of the former United States as they head south, away from violence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jamie Brown
• Release date: Oct 16, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463148853

Book preview

Hallelujah

Book 1

Jamie Brown

Smashwords Edition

Copyright Jamie Brown

Prologue

I stared hard at the screen.

The map displayed different shades of red; Africa the color of congealed blood, North America a rose wine pink. China was a splash of crimson, the good-luck color of the Chinese New Year.

40% mortality. The color codes showed the percentages; Africa up around 60%; China 40%.

3 Billion. My lips were dry.

Jensen’s rat trap mouth split into a thin smile, ascetic face glowing orange from the display, eyes hidden by the reflection on his glasses.

"Yes, an excellent result. As you can see, it is selective, based on the availability of medical care, the population density and delivery vectors.

There is also a genetic bias; Africa has a common gene marker that will result in a larger impact. This will also influence the rate in the black populations of the Americas."

What’s the projected effectiveness of the first vaccine?

About 60%. We explain the poor performance by emphasizing the rapid mutation rate, and the genetic factor. After 10 weeks we announce the development of the update which will be 99.9% effective. there will always be some residual mortality. He sounded like a professor lecturing students.

On the map the tropical zone was a band of plum red that circled the globe; the mosquito vector area. The hardest to hit was the industrialized temperate zones. North America was sitting at 15%, the Euro zone at 10%. To get full dispersal of the virus required hitting the major mass transit centers with aerosols, and contaminating the water sources.

That was Jensen’s problem. His fanatics would provide the legwork. All he had to do was provide the funds and logistics.

I caught sight of my reflection on a screen, looking calm and confident, distinguished graying side burns, the scar on my forehead barely visible.

5 years’ work was coming to a climax; Humanity was going to experience the worse calamity in history, and I was going to be its savior. The size of the catastrophe would overwhelm governments, and Bain Industries would be there with a vaccine and the intact infrastructure to assist in recovery.

It was brilliant.

Democracy had failed. For a long time it had given the masses an illusion of power but without any real substance. Now the population was too big; Social Media was spreading contagious ideas that competed with the corporate message.

Almost all meaningful employment was redundant and the world could support only so many baristas, hairdressers and trolley boys. The people were getting restive.

Humankind was like a virus gobbling up the planet, consuming everything from Whales to Krill; My virus was the solution.

All the intractable global problems would be resolved at one stroke, leaving the stage free for someone with imagination and will to seize the reigns and re-invent the world.

No more Climate Change and resource depletion; no more over crowded, polluted cities. Society would be reshaped into a network of small centers of excellence, with a healthy, productive population. Much easier to control.

In a 100 years’ time we would be seen as the saviors of humanity...

Chapter 1: The Beginning

The neon light flickered twice and then went out, plunging the shop into darkness.

The street was a pool of shadows, the sky a leaden gray. The only sound was the hiss of the rain.

Just as people started to use it, the power failed as usual.

I felt in my pocket for the key-ring torch. The light was amazingly bright from such a small thing. Too bad it was disposable – when the battery failed it would just be plastic junk only good for burning. I doubt if I would see one of these again.

The light was strong enough to let me close down the till and tidy away the receipts. The day’s takings were a small bag of change and a few worn notes. I switched off the torch and waited for my eyes to adjust to the gloom. No one outside would be able to see me as I opened the small hidden compartment where I stashed the money.

I felt my way out and locked up, the door well providing some protection from the weather as I pulled on my poncho. The plastic was torn down one side, but it had done me good service these last few months and kept out most of the rain when the wind wasn’t too strong.

I waited for my eyes to adjust fully to the gloom, and listened. Nothing could be heard above the hiss of the rain and I stepped out into the torrent.

The last of the evening light ebbed away and it was almost pitch black, parked cars looming as dark shapes as I approached them. The wind had picked up and was buffeting my poncho, the rain beating into my face so hard that it was difficult to see. I turned down the street towards the apartment, the wind and rain easing slightly as I rounded the corner. Above, some windows showed chinks of candlelight flickering through curtains.

The apartment block loomed ahead and I splashed the last few yards into the foyer. It seemed deserted, which was good. This neighborhood had got worse and strangers had moved in recently, hanging around and watching. The city was getting out of control. With no work and whole suburbs deserted and vandalized, things were spiraling down, but there was no better place to move to.

The Tribes with their full body tattoos and piercings seem to have disappeared, the street corners now occupied by The Brothers.

The first time I saw the wild eyes and grim smile of one peering from the shadow of his cowl it sent a cold shiver down my spine. He laughed when I stepped back. That’s when I took to carrying the butterfly knife ready to hand in my jacket pocket.

I switched on the torch and silently climbed the stairs to the first floor, double locked the door and lit a couple of candles.

The gas stove ring created a pool of light and warmth as I boiled an egg, using the hot water to make a mug of coffee.

Someone knocked at the door, two quick raps, then two more.

The spy hole revealed nothing in the dark corridor.

Jack?

It’s me.

I opened the door. Hi, you’re early today, what’s up?

Jack strode past, dripping. He put down a rucksack and wiped his face.

We need to bring our plans forward. Another load of troops got off the train today – it’s beginning to happen.

Soldiers.

It looked like the government was getting ready for Marshal Law again. Maybe it was