The Final Enemy Read online

  Final Enemy

  By Dan Petrosini

  Also by Dan Petrosini

  Am I the Killer?

  Complicit Witness

  Push Back

  Ambition Cliff

  Acknowledgments

  This book would not have been written if it were not for Francesco Morsilli, an interesting, intelligent man with a heart the size of the moon. Over the years, Francesco had collected a portfolio of historical facts and ideas about death, population and plagues. Knowing man's desire for immortality, he wanted explore the possible effects and results if we somehow had it.

  Francesco asked that I consider writing a book on how the initial joy of immortality would crumble into chaos and horror. I was reticent but agreed out of friendship to think about it. The genre, which felt like horror at the time, was outside of anything I'd attempted and I wasn't comfortable with it. As I wrestled with it how to fictionalize, the 'unearthed fossil' as Stephen King calls it, ideas started to gel, reaching a point where the book just had to be written. I hope The Final Enemy does justice to Francesco's premise.

  ***

  I would also like to thank my wife Julie and daughters Stephanie and Jennifer for their support and suggestions.

  PART ONE

  The only greatness for man is immortality.

  ~ James Dean

  Chapter One

  Jack jogged along the Mississippi, glad to be out from work after another boring day at Keokuk’s newspaper, the Iowan. As a barge glided by, a streak of light crossed the sky. The reddish light was brighter and nearer than any shooting star he’d ever seen.

  Stopping dead in his tracks, Jack watched the ball of fire speed closer to his small town. As it neared, he feared it would crash into a neighborhood and willed it to splash in the river. Jack prayed as the object crashed into the earth with a thud. He turned on his heels and headed to his car, calculating a possible landing site.

  Jack skidded to a stop and ran toward a small column of smoke rising from a freshly plowed field. An acrid smell burned his nostrils, slowing his approach to a walk. Straining under the moonlit sky, Jack studied what looked to be a basketball-sized rock, half submerged in the black soil, as the plume of smoke quickly dissipated into wisps. Jack inched forward as the last of the smoke vanished.

  Bent over, Jack studied the rock’s craggy face and reached out, hanging his palm over it. The rock had cooled but, though he wanted to touch it, he refrained. Toeing the soil around its edges, Jack uncovered a bit more of the strange arrival. Feeling as if he were nosing around the boss’s office, he stepped back.

  Jack slowly scanned the sky. Nothing more. He surveyed the area as questions mounted. Why is no one else out here? Am I the only one to witness this? Where did this come from? Was there a meaning to this?

  He took a series of photos with his cell phone and made a call.

  “Laura! You’re never gonna believe what I just saw. There was this ball of fire in the sky that crashed right off Middle Road.”

  “A ball of fire?”

  “I think it’s probably a meteorite. I saw this streak of light, it was super bright, like a giant shooting star. Then, as it got closer you could see it was really a ball of fire.”

  “That sounds scary.”

  “Yeah, I was afraid it might crash into a house or something.

  It ended up landing in a field out past Brookshire Estates. I took pictures, wait till you see them.”

  “Sounds like this would make a nice story.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking. It’s nothing big, but I certainly didn’t get a journalism degree from Columbia to do obituaries. I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”

  ***

  The Iowan’s newsroom was a miniature version of a big city paper’s, but without the buzz Jack longed for. He was at his desk and could smell Laura before she turned the corner.

  She tussled his fine, black hair. “You still grumpy?”

  “Sorry, just frustrated. I’m twenty-seven, and look what I’m doing—obituaries and pet stories. I’ll be sixty before I get to do anything investigative.”

  “You’ll get there. What happened about doing something on what you saw?”

  Jack gave a thumbs-down. “Susan said I’d have to ask Mr. Riley.”

  “Oh boy. Well, it’s Thursday, and he’ll be back from vacation on Monday.”

  “I’m bored out of my mind. Only a single obit to write and I just can’t get excited about the Lee County Kennel Club.”

  “Hang in there.”

  Jack whispered, “I’m going to start looking for another job.”

  Laura put a finger to her lips, then said, “See you later. I’ve got to run to a meeting.”

  “You running tonight?”

  “Absolutely, no way I’m missing two days in a row.”

  ***

  Jack got home from the gym just after noon on Saturday. He tossed his mail on the counter and flicked on the TV. Popping a bowl of faro and peas in the microwave, a story about organ harvesting caught his attention. Jack couldn’t help feeling envious as the anchorman gushed about the two million lives saved worldwide last year by artificially growing organs for transplant. The story ended with a short interview with the head of what had been an experimental program. The doctor explained that the technique was perfected in a laboratory, had gone commercial in 2024, and was now considered routine.

  Jack bemoaned that the breakthrough had come too late for his grandfather, who needed a liver, but he felt a surge of optimism for his grandmother when he realized he hadn’t called her yesterday. The microwave beeped as Jack took his cell out.

  “Hey, Grams.”

  “Hi, John John.”

  Jack cringed. She was the only one he allowed to call him John John.

  “How’s the weather up there?”

  Jack’s grandmother was in Providence, Rhode Island, where she raised him after his parents had been killed in a Boston office fire that raised more questions than the people it killed.

  “Pretty nice today. So how’s my reporter grandson doing out in Iowa?”

  “I’m okay, and you?”

  “Pretty good, for an old lady. What have you been doing?”

  “Hey, you know what? The other night I was jogging, and there was a streak of what looked like fire coming down from the sky. It was scary looking.”

  “Oh, my.”

  “I first thought it might’ve been a UFO.”

  “Oh, come on, John John, you don’t believe in aliens, do you?”

  Jack laughed. “Anyway, it turned out to have been a meteor. The first thing I remembered was when you took me to the planetarium. They had meteorites and even some moon rocks, remember?”

  “Like it was yesterday. You were about ten. We had some good times, John John.”

  “And plenty more to come, Grams.”

  “I hope so. How’s work? Writing any big stories?”

  “I wish. It’s been slow the last couple of days. Strange, to be frank.”

  “Strange?”

  “Well, it’s probably nothing, but normally we have like three or four deaths a day here in and around Lee County, but the last two days we haven’t had any. Nobody died.”

  “When you get to be my age, that’s not strange, that’s what we seniors call hope.”

  “You’ll be around for a long while, Grams. I’m counting on it.”

  “From your lips to God’s ear. What’ve you been doing at the paper then?”

  “Since it’s been slow, they have me writing silly pet stories. But I’m going to see about doing a story on the meteorite.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea. How’s your girlfriend Laura?”

  “She’s good. She’s coming over later.”

  �
��I like her, she’s really nice. Be a good one to settle down with.”

  “Hey, Grams, can we talk tomorrow?”

  “Sure, John John.”

  Jack took his lunch out of the microwave and tucked into the bowl, wondering where the meteor had come from. When a story came on about how self-driving cars have dramatically reduced fatalities on the nation’s roadways, he put his spoon down and pulled out his cell.

  “Memorial General.”

  “Mary in admin, please.”

  “This is Mary.”

  “Hi Mary, It’s Jack, from the Iowan.”

  “Oh, hi there, Jack. Working on a Saturday?”

  “I’m home. Just checking in. Have there been any deaths to report?”

  “Nope, and that’s almost three days in a row.”

  “Strange, isn’t it?”

  “Guess so. I’ve been here since 2025, and it’s certainly never happened before.”

  Chapter Two

  The Iowan’s low man on the totem pole walked into Bud Riley’s cramped office.

  “Morning, Mr. Riley, hope you had a nice vacation.”

  “Morning, Jack. How many times have I got to tell you, it’s Bud, not Mr. Riley?”

  Jack nodded.

  “You should put some meat on that frame, Jack, stop running so much. You get sick, you’ll have no reserves to fight with.”

  “I enjoy jogging. Gives me a chance to clear my head.”

  “Enjoy exercising? That’s a first for me. What’s up?”

  “Well, I don’t know if you’re aware, but there are no obits to write again . . .”

  Riley wagged his head.

  “Really unusual. That makes it, what, two, three days?”

  “Four, actually. Anyway, as you probably know, Susan has me doing some human-interest stories, well, they’re just pet stories, and I’m wondering if you’d let me do a story on the meteorite that hit here a couple of nights ago.”

  Riley leaned back in his chair. “You’re not going off on any UFO angle here, are you?”

  “No, no. Just want to write about where it landed, the size of it, how big it started out. Those types of things.”

  Riley pawed his chin as Jack added, “Also, things like who’s examining it, and what they hope to learn from it.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  “So, I can do it?”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Riley, uh, Bud. I really appreciate it.”

  “Get moving.”

  Jack headed for the door when Riley said, “And Jack, don’t get too technical with it. We’re not a science journal.”

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Riley, I won’t.”

  Jack sang to every song on the radio as he drove toward Davenport. He stopped crooning when he realized this was still a two-bit story, but resumed singing when he realized he was out of the office on a story idea he’d come up with.

  Ten minutes into the drive he made a call.

  “Hi, Grandma.”

  “Oh, John John. Is something wrong?”

  He wasn’t letting a name ruin his day.

  “No, everything’s good, in fact, better than good. I just wanted to tell you, remember I was telling you about the meteor?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, guess who’s doing a story on it?”

  “See, I told you, don’t give up.”

  “I know. I won’t. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know I was heading up to Davenport, and I promised to call you. So, just in case I get back too late—”

  “Don’t worry about me, John John. You concentrate on your job. I can’t wait to read the story. You’ll let me know?”

  “Sure thing. Anyway, I’m driving, so I’ll talk to you soon.”

  Jack drove onto the St. Ambrose University campus and parked next to the Galileo Building. Surveying the small, red brick building tempered the expectations he’d built on the drive.

  Pushing through the door, Jack entered a long, narrow laboratory dominated by a large telescope. Four students and an animated professor were hunched around a table. Jack cleared his throat and a student tapped the professor. The instructor waved Jack over.

  “May I assume you’re the reporter from the newspaper?”

  Jack stuck his hand out. “Jack Amato, nice to meet you, Professor Stringer.”

  “Likewise. Everyone, this is Jack. He’s from the, uh . . .”

  “Iowan, the Iowan. We’re out of Keokuk, where the asteroid landed, but we have statewide circulation.”

  “Jack wants to do an article on this beauty.” Stringer beamed as he pointed to a craggy, black hunk of rock. Stringer checked his watch. “Let’s call it a day.”

  The students left, and Jack circled the table. The meteorite looked much different than when it was half submerged in soil. Jack tried to recall the meteorites he’d seen almost twenty years ago. This one seemed larger and was irregular in shape. As he circled, parts of the meteorite shimmered, reflecting the lights overhead.

  Jack studied a couple of chips that had been shaved off and laid on a corner of the plastic sheet covering the table.

  “You can touch them. They’re not dangerous.”

  Jack fingered a guitar-pick-shaped piece and felt silly when he brought it up to his nose and sniffed. The only scent he detected was a smokiness he surmised came from it burning up.

  “Good idea to smell it, but I’m afraid you won’t like the taste of it. A bit too metallic for me.” Stringer laughed.

  “It’s kinda hard to believe this came from somewhere out there.”

  “That’s one of the easier things we try to determine. Most asteroids lie in a vast ring between the orbits of Jupiter and Mars. There’s about a million of them there alone.”

  “A million? Wow.”

  “The universe is vast indeed.”

  Jack pointed at the rock and tapped on his phablet. “So, this came from the belt between Mars and Jupiter?”

  “We’re not sure. We’ve found some mineral characteristics that mirror those we’ve found before, but there are significant amounts of elements we haven’t quite nailed down.”

  “Oh, when do you expect to know that?”

  “We’re still doing an accounting of what we find, and then we’ll run it against NASA’s database. It won’t take more than a few days or a week at most.”

  Jack quickly decided the mystery would help the article.

  “No problem. I’d like to get some background on you, professor. How long have you been studying astronomy, and how much of that time here at St. Ambrose?”

  “Astronomy is a calling for me. It’s all I’ve known and wanted to do my entire life. I’m nearly sixty now, and I’ve been calling St. Ambrose my home for the past twenty years.”

  “It’s hard to believe you’re almost sixty. You seem to have so much energy.”

  “That’s because I love my job, young man. Besides, this meteorite really seems to have me excited.”

  “Professor, what exactly are meteorites?”

  “They’re minor planets.”

  “Planets?”

  “Yes, planets, but minor ones that come in a number of shapes and sizes. Some of them are quite large. Remember, when they transit through Earth’s atmosphere they burn up and get smaller as they get closer to Earth.”

  “This one isn’t quite round. Is that unusual?”

  “Not at all. It’s important to note that when an asteroid falls out of its orbit and crashes into Earth it becomes a meteorite.”

  “So this is a meteorite, not an asteroid?”

  “Yes, yes, of course. I’ll show you some pictures of the belt and you can get a sense of the variety.” The professor took off for another room in the building.

  Bingo! Jack decided on the spot to lead with the differentiation and scurried after the professor.

  They sat on stools next to a teacher-student pair who were looking at images from the Hubble spacecraft. Jack was taken by how surreal, almost phony, they looked. Professor S
tringer directed Jack’s attention to the asteroid belt, and Jack was quickly mesmerized by the images.

  “Wow. Is there a way I can get one of these for the article?”

  “I don’t see why not. They’re in the public domain.”

  As the professor paged to another image, Jack overheard the couple talking about a star dying. Then the teacher said something that nearly knocked Jack off his stool.

  “Excuse me for interrupting, but I couldn’t help overhearing. Did you say your husband works at Genesis Medical Center and that there’s been no deaths at the hospital for the last three days?”

  “Uh, yes. Strange, isn’t it?”

  “Where does he work in the hospital?”

  “He’s the head of palliative care.”

  “Thanks. Sorry to bother you.”

  Jack swiveled to Professor Stringer. “Professor, it’s getting late, and I’ve got to get back to Keokuk. You’ve given me a real education, and I’m grateful for your time today.”

  “So soon? We’ve barely scratched the surface.”

  Jack got off his stool. “Yes, yes. I’ve got more than enough. If I need anything else, I’ll let you know.”

  Jack hopped in his car and made a call before he pulled out of his space.

  “I’m sorry to ask, but can you connect me with whoever is responsible for the proper handling of the passing of your patients?”

  “Did you have a problem, sir?”

  “No, no, um, my aunt’s there, and I just have a question or two about what happens, you know, in the event.”

  “I understand. I’ll connect you with Tom Whiting.”

  “Hello, Mr. Whiting, my name’s Jack Amato, and I’m a reporter with the Iowan.”

  “Whiting’s not in. With things pretty quiet around here, he took the afternoon off.”

  “Um. Look, I know it may sound silly, but were there any deaths at the hospital the last three days?”