Jack didn’t say much. He just listened.
Another Sergeant. Sergeant Holmes led his Platoon Sergeant, Jack and the others to the fence.
“Just walk around the perimeter, until more arrive,” Holmes said. “Deter anything or anyone that comes near the fence. Push them away, but use your weapons to do so. Should anyone escape, we have orders to shoot.”
Deter them from the fence? No one was near the fence, let alone escapees.
The Platoon Sergeant asked, “Sgt. What exactly are we dealing with. It looks pretty dead out there?”
Holmes snickered. “Dead. Yeah. Watch.” He gave a nod to a private who worked a huge spotlight and they tuned on the light.
The sight before Jack stumbled him back.
The specialist whispered out a ‘dude’.
Was he seeing what he thought? The center tent, hidden by the darkness was illuminated by the bright spotlight. The tattered flap was open and exposed not the whole inside but enough for Jack to see what was going on. From Jack’s view it looked like thirty or so people, white face and bloody, were engaging in a meal consisting of others that lay on cots. They looked up to the light, sneering.
“Dude, I mean, Sarge,” the specialist said. “They’re zombies.”
The platoon Sgt. shot a ‘get real’ glance at the specialist. “They’re not zombies.”
“I’m telling you, they’re zombies.”
A nod from Holmes and the spotlight went out. “Whatever they are, there’s about two hundred in there. Only a couple made it to the fence. None have escaped.”
“Zombies,” the specialist said.
The platoon Sgt. Snapped, “They’re not zombies.”
Finally, Jack thought, a topic he was pretty knowledgeable of. Granted it was a fictional topic like Zombies, but he had sat through with his wife, what he believed to be every single zombie movie ever made. Bad and good. Perhaps, even at the risk of sounding really insane, he could try to diffuse the situation with logic.
Logical zombie talk. That was an oxymoron.
But Jack tried. “Let’s say for argument sake they are zombies.” He cringed. “Why aren’t they coming for us?”
“Why would they?” the specialist replied. “They got enough right there to keep them busy. Only a few of us here. But dude, when they are finished, they’ll come for us. Imagine how many there will be then.”
Jack couldn’t help it. Hearing the conversation come from his mouth and then another, it was ridiculous.
Holmes made a huff sound, possibly it was a laugh, and said, “He’s probably right. Make your rounds. I’ll be back after I speak to the colonel.”
And he walked off.
“You heard the Sergeant, make your rounds,” the platoon sergeant ordered.
Jack started walking, like the others in the same circle. It was dark, freaky; he could only imagine what was occurring in the darkness. But he didn’t need too much of an imagination. For with each step he took, through the darkness carried the sound of the gnawing and chomping of flesh.
<><><><>
He was greeted by Colonel Manning the second he stepped off the helicopter. Saul extended his hand to the man he envisioned as being older, and taller.
“Colonel Manning,” he introduced himself. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Klein.”
“I wish it were under different circumstances.”
“Me, as well, Sir. But I’ve been working on this nonstop since the transformation.”
Saul titled his head in confusion. “Transformation?”
“When they go from ill to, what they have become.”
This description took Saul aback. “Colonel, how bad is it?”
The colonel whistled.
“Will you take me to the sick area?”
“I think you should get a look at what we’re dealing with.”
“I can’t get that at the sick camp?”
“Oh, you can, but I’d rather you get up and close.” The colonel led him to a metal structure, newer, more than likely recently erected.
“Have you pin pointed what we’re dealing with?” Saul asked.
“It’s a bacterium. Fast moving.” The colonel nodded to the soldier as he reached for the door.
Saul stopped. His head cocked. Was hearing moans? Where were they coming from?
The colonel continued. “The initial infected took days to come full circle, but once they infect someone, it’s anywhere from 4 to 24 hours. Some instances, like with Katherine Welsh, much, much sooner. Instantaneously.”
“What determines that? Do we know?”
The colonel cleared his throat. “Before I tell you, I want you to take a look. After you do so, then you can confirm my suggestions.”
“I see.”
“I think sir, after we rectify the current situation and send our troops out to neighboring communities looking for more infected.”
“Did we have escapes?”
“Not that I know of. But, what if someone never checked in here.”
“You have a point.”
“Prepare yourself.” The colonel opened the door.
A growl? Did Saul hear a growl? He stepped inside behind the colonel into a make shift examining room. On the table lay a man. His skin tone reminded Saul of an apple, thick and off white. It didn’t look real, as if he wore a pancake makeup. His lips, cracked and peeling. The man thrashed and growled. His eyes and pupils, nearly clear.
Bound to the table by straps, the man looked at Saul, widened his mouth and arched his head, struggling, as if he were trying to bite.
A soldier stood behind him, weapon ready.
The man on the table thrashed more violently.
“This is what we’re dealing with?” Saul questioned.
“Yes, sir.”
Saul’s hand went to his mouth. As if did, the man shook. With a ‘snap’ sound, his arm, broke on the wrist and freed. He reached with his limb for the soldier.
The colonel nodded.
The soldier fired a single shot into the head of the man.
Saul jolted. “Was that necessary?”
“I’m afraid so. Yes,” The colonel replied. “When they were first discovered, we learned how violent they were. Instinctual, attacking. They got Dr. Welsh. And two of our soldiers were injured while we were trying to detain a few for research. Not severely, but bitten by them.”
“Two soldiers. Did you test them?”
“Right away. Initial testing didn’t show any infection in the blood stream. But after about thirty minutes to an hour, small traces were seen.”
“Where are they now?”
“They were sent to Washington, special hospital for research.”
“So they didn’t show signs of ... this.” Saul pointed to the man on the table. “This delirium.”
“No.”
“But Katherine did?”
“Yes. Right away.”
“And you’ve determined what causes an instant reaction and transformation to full blown infection.”
“Yes. We believe we do know what causes it to occur instantly.”
“What is that?”
“Like with this man, the delirium and violent rage sets in at the moment of death.”
Saul cocked an eyebrow. Had the colonel who was also a brilliant doctor, been working too much. “Colonel,” Saul said. “Forgive me, but that sounds absurd.”
“I know. I know. But they have no pulse, no breath, they don’t bleed. Some of them have injuries, like Katherine that are fatal injuries.”
“They can’t be dead, that’s impossible.”
“I know.”
“What does Dr. Riesman say about all this? Have you consulted him? I mean he has witnessed this first hand, right?”
“Yes, he has.”
“What did he say?”
The colonel stared at Saul for a moment. “Nothing. He locked himself in his trailer and …”
“Then let’s go get him.” Saul turned to the door.
“We c
an’t.”
Saul stopped. “Why? Did something happen to him?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you sir. When we went back for him, he was gone.”
“Gone as in dead or…”
The colonel finished the sentence. “No, gone as in gone. Took off.”
“Tell me he wasn’t infected.”
“Last our soldiers spoke to him he wasn’t injured.”
Saul breathed out in relief. “We have to find him, immediately.” He said, and then sank into concern. How frightened Hans had to have been to run away. And by what Saul witnessed, he could see why. He did take stock in the fact that Hans was a professional, and frightened or not, he would never hit the general populous if he were infected. Saul was certain. But just to be sure, they had to find him first. And wherever that was, it couldn’t be too far.
<><><><>
Lima, Peru
Hans wasn’t thinking when he took off by foot, sneaking out of the lab and walking pretty much through the day, how difficult it would be. Fortunately, a little money went a long way and for fifty bucks he was treated like a king. Although the ride in the back of the truck was no ride in a limo, it was still a ride.
That ride took him to another, then another until finally he arrived. At the airport.
He was surprised no one came for him, or looked for him there. But judging by his phone, people were searching for him.
He didn’t care. Luckily he was able to get a flight leaving the country almost immediately for Germany. Germany wasn’t bad. He had family there and connections. In fact he called one to get him at the airport when his flight arrived. It wasn’t America, his first preference, but it wasn’t Peru. He had to get out of Peru, out of the country and away from what he had seen.
It was unnatural. The dementia was frightening, and fearful of not being able to feign off 600 people, Hans left.
He could do more in a safe location.
He was his own best test subject.
His head cocked at the call of his flight number and that they were boarding. With a handkerchief he wiped the sweat from his brow. His was feeling chilled, and not his best. Looking down to his phone he saw he had eight missed calls, three of which from Saul. He vowed to call him as soon as he landed. At that moment, though, he shut off his phone.
He glanced up to the boarding line, and decided to join. Wanting to know the time, he glanced to his phone, and recalled he turned it off. As he stood he looked at his watch. He had been awake nearly 24 hours. In looking at his watch he could see his arm, slightly swollen and the veins seemed like red road maps leading to the small cut that didn’t want to heal.
He’d investigate when he got there, test himself. For that moment, he lowered his sleeve, prepared his boarding pass and got in line.
<><><><>
The tubular building was flown in and placed not far from where the Army had its set up. A long tent precluded the entrance, nearly hiding it from view.
“And this is Captain Steven Long,” Colonel Manning introduced Saul.
Saul visually gave a once over to the enthusiastic, but tired looking Captain. Young, fit, typical soldier, but didn’t look a thing like a scientist. He was average height and looks, probably younger than he appeared.
“Captain Long has been working on our victims and came across something very interesting.”
It was about that point in the conversation that Saul withdrew his hand from the introduction. “Is that so?”
“Yes, Sir,” Steven replied. “I’m very intrigued by the rate of attack and how it differs in victim to victim. Basically sir, every single victim, initial and secondary has been the same. Delirium, violent, and then I came across this.”
Saul just followed.
Colonel Manning led them into the tube building and to the first door. “We have a shoot to kill order out on all infected,” he said. “So imagine my surprise when Captain Long brought this one back.” He opened the door.
Saul was taken aback. A child, shackled, sat center of the room. He played with a truck. Clearly, he was like the others. “Is he?”
“Yes,” Steven answered. “No pulse. No breathing, no blood pressure. Body temperature, sixty-seven degrees. We’re still waiting for one of the healthy in town to give us his name. Watch . . .” Steven approached him. “Hey, there.”
The boy ignored him.
“Amazing,” Saul said. “He’s not violent.”
“Well, yes, to you, me and others. But . . .” Steve excused himself from the room, and returned with a cage. A chicken inside moved radically around. He set the cage down in front of the boy and no sooner did he open it, the child scurried to the cage, devoured the chicken mercilessly in less than a minute, and bloodied with a few feather, the boy went back to his truck.
Saul cleared his throat. “I guess we can rule out getting him a puppy.” Another clearing of his throat to hide his chuckle.
“Thing is,” Col. Manning said. “We don’t know why he is like this. Why he is not attacking people like the others. He may hold some sort of key.”
“We need to find out,” Saul said. “But we’re not finding out here.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Col Manning stated. “I think we all can agree on what needs to be done next.”
The three men looked at each other and then to the child.
“Helicopter should be here shortly,” Col. Manning told Saul. “Captain Long is getting his things ready. Not much. He just got here yesterday.”
Like Saul, Captain Long hadn’t even unpacked. Hadn’t taken a single item from his bag. Saul knew he wasn’t going to be in Peru long, but less than a few hours?
But it was vital they both leave and go back to the states, to Washington where the two soldiers who were bitten were quarantined. The chopper would take them to the airstrip where a government jet was already waiting.
“How is the Captain about returning to the states so soon?”
“He thinks it’s a big mistake bringing this thing there, but we both know, that it needs to be done.”
“I agree with both of you.”
“Before you board, take a look at what just came in,” Manning pulled Saul’s attention toward the computer.
His attention was on the growing noise outside. “I thought you gave the order.”
“I did. But I want to wait until the backup troops arrive. Better safe than sorry, it’s getting crazy. After that’s finished, I already assigned locations for our scouts. But for now, Doctor, please.” Col. Manning maneuvered the mouse, and the hiss of the printer started. “I’m making you copies to review fully on the plane. Check this out.”
Saul leaned into the monitor.
A picture of an arm with a small red gash appeared. The gash wasn’t bad, or deep.
“This was taken one half hour after this soldier was bitten.” Col. Manning switched the screen. “Two hours post bite.”
A redness appeared around the gash, which also seemed to still look as if it seeped.
Another switch and the arm was swollen and turning dark. The wound looked bigger and open.
“How many hours?” Saul asked.
“This is twelve hours. Taken at the hospital.”
“How is the patient?”
“Fevered. Not much. Starting to feel ill.”
“The other one?”
“Interesting enough, at a slower rate with a bigger wound.”
Saul folded his arms. “Adrenaline enhanced.”
“We think,” Col. Manning said. “Soldier one; small wound, was very hyper and worried. Soldier two was hit accidentally in the head and knocked unconscious. So therefore all body function slowed.”
“As did the rate of the virus.”
“Exactly. We’re keeping him sedated and his vitals at minimal to see what happen.”
“Comparable in time frame?”
“His bigger wound is at maybe soldier one’s four hour post.”
“Let me ask you this,” Saul said. “When
you first tested them you said there were no signs of the virus in the blood. Not for thirty minutes. Have you yet experimented with removing the infected area or even amputating?”
“We’ve theorized that. Perhaps maybe the wound generates the virus and getting rid of the wound may do it, but we’ve not been fortunate enough to catch it that early.”
“If it happens again, evasive wounds . . .”
“Then we will experiment.”
“Great.”
“I’ve placed those theories and other data in there for you.” Col. Manning grabbed the papers from the printer and placed them in a folder. He extended the folder for Saul as the sound of the helicopter came into earshot.
“Ah, my ride and your backup. Col. Manning, if anything arises, anything of interest before I leave, let me know.”
“I will.” Col. Manning pointed to the folder. “You can review those on the flight.”
“Seven hours,” Saul breathed out. “Makes you wonder what I’m gonna face when I land.”
Both men turned their heads when the sounds of yelling and moaning, damnation moaning rang out.
“Hopefully,” Col. Manning said. “We can do something so that ends here. Tonight.”
Saul gave a closed mouth nod. “Let’s hope.”
<><><><>
“They finished their meal,” Specialist Carlson said. “We’re the smorgasbord.”
“They’re not zombies,” Jack blasted out.
“Then what are they?”
“I ... I don’t know.”
From tent two, the couple hundred hands multiplied and the barbed wire, fenced in area was like a corral of wild animals.
They moved slow, rigid, sloppy. Some carried body parts; all had that same dead-eyed look as they locked stares on the soldiers outside the perimeter.
As if they lost all reasoning, they aimed for the fence, reaching out. Some trying to walk through, getting jabbed and stuck. Others tried to climb with the same results. All of them gaping mouths, biting the air as if trying to consume a meal long distance.
Specialist Carlson snickered in a young way. “Dude, oh, my God. Look at that one.”
Jack turned to see where he pointed. A woman was diligent in her fence attempt, flesh tore from her with each caught up twisted turn, but she didn’t seem to notice.
It was a nightmare Jack had many times. Thought the reasonable man in him, verbally, and outright argued that they weren’t zombies, in his mind he couldn’t think of anything else they would be.
Darlings of Decay Page 15
