“Isn’t it always? I guess it can wait a few minutes.” Dr. Linkmen pulled off his latex gloves and looked at him. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon. How’s it look out there?”
“Terrible. We’ve practically lost everything.” He gave a sigh and drew in a long breath through his nose, while studying the Doctor’s face. “How’s it going here?”
The doctor scratched the back of his head before speaking. “Not bad, actually, I’ve got one patient on Virazole, and he’s survived five days.”
“Good and the others?”
“Well ddC and ddl proved worthless. It’s not a retrovirus anyway. Protease inhibitors didn’t work either, neither did reverse transcriptase inhibitors. You know viruses are tricky customers, they’ll mutate just when you think…”
“I meant the people, Doctor, the other ones who changed. Anything noteworthy?”
“Yes, very noteworthy.”
“What happened?”
The doctor sat down and moved a stack of papers to the side and stared at the desk for a second before looking up at the general. “I’m not sure you’re going to believe me. Actually, I’m afraid you’re not going to believe me, and what you’ll think. I’m not even sure what it is yet.”
“What, what is? What are you talking about?”
“All right, I guess I’ll just start from the beginning.” As he drew in a breath and collected his thoughts, he noticed the General’s gaze wandered past him to the cadaver on the table. He saw his eyes squint and widen, then squint again, and he knew this was going to be a strange conversation.
“What the hell is that? Does that goddamn thing have an arm sticking out of its leg? What the hell are you doing down here? You’re supposed to be studying the plague, not playing Dr. Frankenstein and sewing severed limbs onto bodies for some sort of sick amusement! The next words out of your mouth better be very convincing, or you’ll be placed under arrest!”
The doctor calmly put his hand up and patted the air. “It’s not what you think. Have a seat, General, and I’ll start from the beginning.” He gestured toward a chair and clasped his hands together as the general sat down. “It seems that as an antiviral agent fails, it makes the host faster and stronger than the other creatures. The drugs slow down the rate of infection but cannot stop it. As the battle rages inside the host the virus seems to adapt immediately to the changes and still takes over. Which is very unusual for a virus to do so fast when under a heavy bombardment from antiviral medications. However, the really interesting part is that the virus doesn’t only mutate to overcome the drugs. Once the drugs set it on this course it begins mutating to overcome any obstacle placed in its path, both inside and outside the body. I haven’t seen one mutation that was the same. It’s just like if you have two people who get the same cold and they both take medicine, and in both cases their viruses mutate. Well they won’t mutate into exactly the same thing in both people. There will be differences. That one back there just grew another arm when I cut off its leg. I didn’t sew that arm on. It grew it right before my very eyes in a matter of seconds, and then the damn thing started to undo its bindings. Another one healed instantly from any wound inflicted on it, and another was able to change the texture of its skin to hinder an attack. I had to shoot that one in the head with a high-powered rifle to pierce the folds of hardened skin on its forehead.” He shook his head and crossed his arms. “These ones that have had medicine are much smarter and faster. They’re incredibly dangerous. I won’t be surprised if all of these are different.” He gestured toward the other beds.
During his explanation the General leaned back and began scratching his chin, and his eyes wandered off toward the ceiling. “Do you think these new ones can learn anything? Are they that smart?”
“Possibly, but they’re complete animals, incapable of loyalty, of no military value, no value whatsoever.”
“Let me be the judge of that, Doctor. Remember your research is twofold. Try to find a cure and note any other changes for further analysis. I want you to try and isolate the cause of the symptoms and see if the medicine can keep one of these cognizant enough to follow orders without sacrificing the potential benefits of the mutations.”
“Benefits, you’re calling them benefits?”
“Potential benefits.”
“They’re monsters, General, and that’s all. I don’t know how you can consider military applications at a time like this. Most of the world’s in tatters up there and you’re thinking about how to make a better soldier. Don’t you get it? There’s no one left to fight, everything’s gone.”
“I can’t expect you to know or understand my motivations when you’re not privy to all the facts, Doctor. It’s easy to judge when you’re in the dark.” He stood up and stepped behind the chair with a wry smile. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll leave you to your work. Send a report up to me ASAP. Goodbye.”
“You didn’t need to come down here to tell me that.”
“I’m just a hands-on kind of guy I guess.” He spoke as he walked away and waved with the back of his hand.
The Doctor slid down into his chair and put his head back. “I need a vacation. I heard South Carolina’s beaches are nice this time of year.” Chuckling to himself, he looked at another specimen under the microscope and scratched his head, then looked again. He typed some more notes on his laptop as the smile faded from his face, and raised his head when another soldier entered the lab.
“Doesn’t anybody listen around here? I said I was in an autopsy.”
“They told me the General was just here, and I thought...” He sighed and extended an envelope. “Here are your results, Sir.”
“Thank you.” He swiped it out of the soldier’s hands and opened it as the soldier excused himself. He pulled out DNA charts with short bars arranged in rows of varying lengths and examined them against the light. He squinted and pulled his head back while massaging his temples with one hand. “Can’t be.” He looked again and started biting a fingernail as his eyes sharpened around the edges.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jackson punched the gas pedal as they sped down the hill. The tires screeched, and the centripetal force carried the Jeep over to the edge of the road. He let up on the gas, brought the vehicle back to center, floored the gas again, and swung back out to the edge as it rounded another corner, and he saw one of the creatures walking toward them. The tires screeched as he swerved around it.
“Jackson, slow down! Don’t have an accident.” Kathleen braced herself against the dash and window.
“I got it. Don’t worry.” He swerved around a few more and pressed the gas pedal as the road straightened out. They approached Purdah’s main street and Jackson turned on the left turn signal. He caught Kathleen glaring at him under a firm brow. He shrugged and flipped the signal off. “Old habit.”
Kathleen shook her head and braced on the dashboard again when she saw the turn coming up.
Jackson rolled through the stop sign and veered out on the road. When the Jeep straightened out his eyes widened as his expression sank. “Oh my God! What the hell happened?”
Before them an army of the undead walked aimlessly, scattered across the road and every yard. Jackson swerved around one, then another, and popped up on the sidewalk to get around some more. His face contorted every time he yanked the wheel in the opposite direction.
“Jackson, be careful, please!” Kathleen held her stomach and grimaced.
“I’m tryin’, look they’re everywhere!” He swerved again to miss one and drove through a yard.
“Get back on the road!” Kathleen pushed against the dashboard.
“I will! Just let me drive!” He cut the wheel back toward the street and ran over one, then slammed into another as he cut back the other way to straighten out. “Goddamn it! This is impossible! It was practically deserted when we came through before. Where’d they all come from? Shit!” He cut the wheel as another one stepped in front, and the back end of the Jeep fishtailed.
With on
ly a split-second to react, Jackson accidentally did exactly what he had learned not to do and turned away from the skid instead of into it. The Jeep’s back tires swung around and followed his turn and left a circular skid mark on the road as he did a Donut. The back tires slid off the side of the road into a ditch, and Jackson floored the gas but the wheels turned up grass and sprayed mud on the lawn.
“Jackson! Hurry! They’re coming.”
“I can’t…” He slammed the four-wheel drive stick around in its housing while mashing on the gas pedal repeatedly as the engine snorted. He looked up and saw one of the undead, blood caked all over its face and hands, several feet from his door. He slammed his hand into the door handle. “Get out! We’ve gotta run for it!” He grabbed his AK as he threw the door open, ran around the hood, and grabbed Kathleen’s hand as she opened her door. “This way! I think the smoke came from right down there.”
They plodded down the hill at Kathleen’s pace. She took brisk strides while holding her belly. “Jackson! I can’t run that far. I can’t run at all!”
“Well, damn it!” He scanned the yards and saw a house with cellar doors that stuck out above ground at a sloping angle. “Over there!” He pointed and grabbed her hand as they made their way with a teaming mass of the undead falling in behind from the road and adjacent yards. When they reached the doors, Jackson stopped and raised his rifle to fire at one creature that rounded the corner from behind the house. He blew its head wide open and dropped down to the doors and pulled, but they lifted up a few inches and stopped. He could see a bolt holding them through the crack, so he placed the muzzle close and shot it. The lock blew off, and he swung the doors open. Just as he and Kathleen stepped inside, he saw the first group arrive. He slammed the doors and held them shut. They began clacking as the thuds of fists and slaps of hands rapped repeatedly. Jackson looked around gasping for air, and his eyes landed on a thick shaft of wood poking out in a corner. “Kathleen! Hand me that broom. Hurry! I can’t hold them much longer!”
Kathleen grabbed the broom and pushed its thick wooden grip through the handles as Jackson slowly let go.
They huddled together and watched the door rattle. The broom clacked and shifted into its final place, but everything held.
Jackson looked around at their surroundings. They had taken refuge in a small cellar, with two beams of light pouring in from tiny windows at ground level, illuminating the basement enough to make out facial features. He walked up the staircase along the wall to the door leading to the house and leaned into it as he jiggled the handle. It did not budge. He rammed it a few times, but it only whined. He raised his gun and shot around the handle, then pushed again, but still it did not open. He kicked it, rammed the butt of the gun into it, and shouted at it. It was an old door made of solid wood, not a flimsy modern one. His efforts only scratched and dented it.
What Jackson could not see on the other side of the door, was that someone had fashioned a homemade bolt lock with a 2X4 slid through the catches. It could only open from inside the house without excessive force.
He walked back down into the cellar and looked around. It contained some boxes and shelves holding glass jars of homemade pickles. As he looked, he noticed shadows passing over the narrow beams of light, and saw feet shuffling around beyond the windows. Jackson opened a small case and saw a few tools inside. Beside sat some gardening equipment, a washer and dryer, some old chairs rested against the wall, and random building materials filled a corner. Jackson’s shoulders sank, and he turned toward Kathleen with glossy eyes. “We’re trapped.”
✹✹✹
The Humvee entered Main Street in the little town of Purdah. At the wheel Laura pushed back a tear as she steered around a corner. Meg looked over at her and patted her shoulder.
Laura nodded and wiped another tear. “You know at the end of the day I don’t think anyone’s going to miss Jim’s contributions to the group effort. That doesn’t change what just happened though. It really hits home when you see somethin’ like that, you know…how deep we’re really in the shit.”
Meg nodded. “I know. I feel the same way and...” She shot forward and stopped herself on the dashboard with her hand as Laura slammed on the brakes.
They sat on the crest of a small hill that overlooked Main Street.
“Fuck me! There must be several hundred of ‘em. Where did they all come from?” Meg sat on the edge of her seat. “There were hardly any when we came through before.”
Donnie leaned forward clutching the shotgun. “Maybe they could smell people here.”
“But where did they come from?” Laura let her eyes drift away from the mass of undead and dropped them down to the gas gauge. “Oh crap!”
“What?” Meg looked over with a creased brow.
“We’re almost out of gas. With all of the excitement I forgot to check. We can’t stay here.”
“How much is left?” Donnie stuck his head over the driver’s seat.
“It’s on E.” Laura gripped the steering wheel and squeezed until her hands creaked over the rubber. “I can’t believe I forgot to check. Damn it! How far can we go on this?” She looked up at Donnie with raised eyebrows.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. This thing really guzzles, a few miles perhaps.” His eyes averted as he reflected on the irony of the situation, that Jeremy sacrificed himself to save them by using their fuel reserve. He looked around at the houses and saw plenty of cars occupying driveways that undoubtedly had gas in their tanks. Then he looked around at the undead meandering everywhere. “So close, yet so far.”
While everybody stared forward, the Humvee jolted from an impact at the rear. Laura’s eyes shot open as she stared into the rearview mirror. Before she could speak a pack of the undead encircled the vehicle and banged on the glass. Meg screamed and Laura hit the gas. The engine’s roar alerted the creatures ahead just as Laura exploded forward and slammed into them. The wheels bounced and the engine roared as she crushed several bodies at once. The way the Humvee tore into them resembled an angry bull. It was not so much a Humvee anymore, but a dozer mowing down bodies and leaving them to rot.
Unfortunately, clarity of mind did not prevail as Laura jerked the wheel back and forth, keeping the gas pedal on the floor. Consequently, no one noticed when the needle quickly dropped below E and rested motionlessly on the peg, as the engine pushed the vehicle over the dead.
They passed a Jeep stuck in a ditch on the side of the road, doors open and headlights still on. Donnie squinted as he saw a bunch of undead crowded around the side of a house. Before they passed the scene, he thought he saw a door leading down to a basement, but the crowd obscured his vision.
The vehicle plowed through the host, crushing bodies and sent others flying through the air. Blood and unidentifiable inside parts covered the hood and splattered the windshield. Donnie stuck his head out of the turret and fired the shotgun at a few of them, but his arm slammed up and down erratically, and most of the pellets only grazed a few heads.
Just as a distorted face smacked off the windshield, Laura saw the end of town where Main Street tapered off to a country road. She smiled then got jerked forward and thrown back as the Humvee bucked, lurched forward and rattled. She looked down at the gas gauge and saw the needle sitting motionlessly all the way to the left. Then the vehicle lost power and coasted to a stop.
They looked around and saw the undead approaching from the sides and behind them. In front the road lay open, calling them.
“No!” Laura turned the ignition repeatedly, but the starter turned over without catching.
Donnie got back inside and closed the turret hatch. “Okay, don’t panic. Everybody just stay inside.” He bobbed his hands up and down in the air as he stared around at the undead encircling the vehicle and began sweating.
The Humvee shook and swayed from all the hands pushing and hammering. Soiled mitts, bared teeth, and decaying faces filled every window. Smudges of dirt, blood, and bodily fluids obscured every inch of glas
s.
Inside Meg screamed and cried as she only saw more death in every direction she looked.
Tears streamed down Laura’s face and her body went static except for the slight bob of her shoulders as she sobbed.
Donnie whipped his head back and forth from window to window but only saw decaying flesh. Then his head shot up when he heard footsteps and fists pummeling the roof. He clenched the shotgun’s barrel in a death grip and screamed furiously. Veins popped out on his cerise face, which looked ready to explode, and he darted his eyes from side to side as more of the creatures joined in.
The undead swarmed over the entire vehicle the same way fire ants do to protect their mound, the din of groans only outmatched by the constant pummeling on the vehicle’s body.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“I think my water just broke!” Kathleen looks up at Jackson with wide eyes.
“Oh no! Not now! Not like this!” Jackson squeezes her hand and buries his face into his arm.
The doors rattle furiously and scratching, banging, and ripping reaches fever pitch. The groans intensify and the broom creaks between the handles. Lighting flashes, thunder booms, a downpour begins, and rain drums the door. The din of groans mixes with the raindrops until they sound farther away, but the clacking doors squash the illusion instantly.
“How long do you think we have?” Jackson’s face wrinkles as he strokes Kathleen’s hair.
“I don’t know, not long. I think all the activity brought it on.” She cringes and her face bunches up mirroring a prune. “I just had my first contraction.” Her jaw locks, and she grabs his hand and squeezes until the tips of his fingers turn red.
“Okay…okay, try and relax.” He helps her lay down and stuffs an old blanket under her head. The doors bang, and Jackson sees the broom rattling inside the handles. He clamps his eyes shut and takes deep breaths.
Kathleen reaches up and squeezes his arm. “Jackson what are we going to do with the baby? I’m not going to let those things out there have it.”
The Inroad Chronicles (Book 1): Legion Seed Page 30
