Ultimately though there was a flaw in Viktor’s plan. He wasn’t a doctor or a scientist, and he wasn’t to know that XV1 wasn’t a cure per se. It was a short term measure, the immunity to the virus that it gave likely to wear off after several months at best, quicker with the viral mutations that were already occurring. So Viktor was intent on killing his boss for a cure that wouldn’t keep him safe for very long.
Viktor knocked again, and when he got no response, he opened the door and looked in. Susan was asleep on the bed, as he had expected her to be. There was a discarded bottle of vodka on the floor by where she slept, and the clothes she had been asked to wear the previous day were discarded across the room. That was no way to treat a Versace, especially as there weren’t going to be any more of them ever made.
Viktor sighed with disgust, picking up the dress and almost reverently placed it over his arm. He would return it to its plastic covering and bring something more suitable for Susan to wear.
She wouldn’t like what he brought.
Viktor decided to let her keep the dressing gown for now, but only because Susan was presently asleep in it. Clay had decided to give her a day to come to her own conclusion about what was best for her future, and those minutes were ticking down. It was all part of the game Clay liked to play. Whatever path she chose wouldn’t matter, because her life was as good as over. As broken inside and as dependent on alcohol as she was, Viktor reckoned she wouldn’t even last a week before Clay tired of her. And that was if she chose the better of her two options. If she foolishly rejected Clay’s generous offer…well, that wasn’t even worth thinking about. Many of the men who worked under Clay had a less than chivalrous attitude when it came to women.
It wasn’t just the dress Viktor had come to fetch though. More important was what was left of the alcohol. They had let Susan have her fill, but there wouldn’t be any more of that free for all supply. Any drink she was allowed from this point forward would be doled out strategically, under the control of Clay himself. Viktor picked up the three bottles of liquor that were still unopened. He had stocked the room up prior to Susan’s arrival, so he knew that the empty bottle lying on the floor represented the last Susan would ever have unless she behaved herself. A scary prospect for an alcoholic. Normally a person with Susan’s dependence would need medical supervision to break their addiction due to the dangerous symptoms that sometimes came with withdrawal. But alcohol would only be prohibited if Susan declined Clay’s most munificent offer. And if she did that, Clay wouldn’t care what happened to the woman.
It was all part of the plan. Viktor felt he knew what was in the mind of Susan, and when the nausea and the tremors started in earnest, Susan would be banging on Clay’s door, begging him to do whatever he wanted to her if only she could have just one drink. Viktor had abused and manipulated the broken and the lost for years now. They were as predictable to him as they were abhorrent. It was quite possible that Viktor didn’t even know what the word pity meant.
The last thing he did was lock the door to Susan’s room. They would give her a few hours to stew in there, let the torment of her own body really work on her. Then Clay would ask her what her decision was, which would hopefully break Brian’s allegiance to him if only a fraction. Brian made a lot of noise that he wasn’t concerned about what happened to Susan, but Viktor reckoned that was more bluff than truth. Viktor had seen men like Brian before and knew that they were often more dangerous than they first appeared. He was either excruciatingly loyal which meant he would never accept Viktor as his leader, or he was playing a duplicitous game, perhaps vying for his own push for the big time. Either way, Brian was a clear threat.
If Viktor were eventually to take over from Clay and run this operation, Brian would definitely have to go. Any move on Brian had to be done carefully though. He was well respected by the men, a man who had proven his worth to Clay and his organisation. Viktor was not going to make the mistake of underestimating him. The one thing he had learnt early on was to always respect the abilities of those you ultimately intended to kill.
23.08.19
Houston, USA
“What’s all this, Clarice?”
Reece wasn’t the only law enforcement officer here, seven others had been diagnosed with carrying the infection, four still able to function. One of them, a State Trooper called Calvin stood in her path now, blocking Carson and his men from marching Reece through the wire maze of cages to the exit they needed. Calvin and Reece knew each other in passing and had gotten to talking on occasion now that they were both stuck here. The badge and the uniform gave you an instant connection whenever you saw it, often resulting in a desire to protect your own.
Calvin and Reece had both seen the disturbing trend amongst the soldiers stationed at the Astrodome. As the death toll amongst those infected rose, the easier it seemed to be for the soldiers to step in and desecrate the bodies before they reanimated. If Reece had to give her opinion on the matter, the men doing what should have been an unpleasant and soul destroying job seemed to be rapidly becoming desensitised to it. And while black humour would always be a requirement to psychologically handle such traumas, some of the banter she heard between the soldiers went beyond what she considered acceptable.
It wouldn’t be long before people started to be shot before they died. Reece could smell that in the air, just as she would have been able to smell the alcohol on the soldier’s breaths if they weren’t all wearing respirators. The commanding officers knew full well that the men here needed something to help take the edge off the horrors they were being asked to do. That was a lesson from history. Most people, even soldiers, weren’t capable of wanton slaughter without some sort of chemical cosh to blur the edges of the horrors that could be committed.
“Out of our way, Trooper,” Carson ordered dismissively. Calvin had his hand casually placed on the flap of his holster, the thumb there ready to flip the strap off so he could draw.
“I’m all right, Calvin. You don’t want to get involved with this.” Reece knew that if Calvin persisted, this would only end one way. Carson and his men were of a breed where they wouldn’t think twice about killing anyone that got in their way. And there wasn’t anyone here who would lift a finger in response. The soldiers who patrolled and guarded the infected wouldn’t care because they had their one shit to worry about. They themselves were seeing and dispatching the recently deceased on an hourly basis. The execution of a living breathing individual probably wouldn’t amount to anything more than raised eyebrows.
The rules had changed, and many of the laws Reece had spent her working life trying to enforce had pretty much been abandoned.
“The deputy is being escorted to another healthcare facility. That’s all you need to know Trooper. Now move aside. I won’t tell you again.” One of the things that Reece had noticed was how Carson did all the talking. None of the men with him ever uttered a sound. She was also sure that they would perform every order he gave to them, no matter how abhorrent it might seem.
Calvin looked at Reece suspiciously.
“You’re sure, Clarice? You only have to say the word.”
“I’m sure Calvin. Best you not interfere.” Reluctantly, Calvin stepped aside, and with a gentle nudge from behind, Reece was told to continue. If Reece had been in handcuffs, things might have gone down differently, so she was thankful that Carson hadn’t ordered that. Calvin, for his part, looked impotent now, the illness clearly advancing in him. He had stepped in because he felt it was the right thing to do, but he also wasn’t a fool. Even if the other armed officers were here, any standoff or firefight would have ended with people just getting shot. There was already enough of that going on in the world. While Reece appreciated the support from her fellow officer, she was relieved that he made the right move and stood down.
“So tell me something, Major,” Reece inquired over her shoulder, “what happens to me when we get where we are going?”
“Rest assured you will be treated with digni
ty and respect,” Carson said. The words sounded like a recording as if Carson had said them a thousand times before.
“You mean like I am now?” Carson didn’t answer that.
As a small group, they moved through the last of the cages, the people trapped inside rarely giving them a second glance. The plight of one Sherriff’s Deputy was of no concern to the condemned and the dying. Occasionally someone would beg her for help as she passed, but Reece could only ignore them. Maybe leaving here wasn’t such a bad thing after all. In the last few hours, Reece had noticed a slight shift in the way things were being run. Any humanity that was being displayed seemed to be evaporating, replaced by cold, hard killing efficiency.
There was no doubt that the Astrodome and the related structures had been converted into a place where people were brought to die. The smell in the place was definitely getting worse as well. Not such a problem to those wearing respirators, but certainly an issue for everyone else, like those faced with the indignity of being trapped in one of the hundreds of cages. She wondered if this was what Hell smelt like? Vomit, faeces, piss all mixed with the pungent tang of disinfectant.
Reece had even overheard two of the CDC doctors talking about the possible need to start euthanising people. They could only house so many people in here and the NRG stadium next door. When those facilities reached capacity, they wouldn’t have the luxury of stopping the busses from arriving, because the number of citywide infected was growing despite the attempts to contain the problem. This would also be made worse by the new field test for the virus that was soon to go into mass production. This wasn’t what Reece wanted her state and her country to become, an efficient production line for death.
Desperate situations called for an even more desperate response, though. Reece didn’t think she wanted to be around to witness any of that. It didn’t matter so much when she believed she had days, maybe even hours to live. But that death sentence had been removed from her, allowing Reece to turn her mind to the predicament of people other than herself. If she stayed here, she just knew she would be forced to say or do something, and that was unlikely to be in her best interests despite the apparent respect some of the soldiers had for her.
All that was mute now because she was being removed to God knows where and that changed the game altogether. It might have been selfish, but with the Astrodome behind her, she would only have her own worries to focus on.
The main exit was in sight now. Reece felt better knowing that Doctor Lee was coming with her and she hoped that any rapport she had built up with the doctor could help offset the militaries’ fondness for being such utter dickwads. Carson worried her. She hoped he was just the errand boy sent to fetch her, but Reece had a feeling he was more than that. Heaven help her if he was somehow running the show. Men like him always seemed to rise to the top of the shit heap, shovelling whatever they could down onto the people below on their climb.
Three soldiers ran past, a sense of urgency palpable in their actions. Carson grabbed one of them and asked a question that Reece couldn’t hear.
“We have trouble in the kid’s section,” came the response before Carson let the soldier continue on his way. Reece looked behind at her escort.
“Problems?”
“Just keep walking.” Reece resisted the temptation to salute sarcastically. It was true that she resented the way she was being treated. Her immunity meant she was important, and she was more than willing to do what she could to help cure this virus. She just wanted to have a say in what was done to her, and there was a growing fear that she would be nothing more than a glorified lab rat.
Carson received several salutes as they made it through the security checkpoint that led to the outside world. He returned only one of those salutes to a marine reservist. The others he just seemed to ignore. That told Reece even more about the man. It told him he made judgements about people without even knowing their skills or their character, that his ego was powerful enough to make him think he was somehow important in the great scheme of things. He was a dangerous man with a mission and a purpose. Reece had met him less than twenty minutes ago, and she already despised him.
Outside the heat hit her, but that didn’t bother her though; she’d had a lifetime of it. The place she was being taken was a different matter entirely, that would be cold, something Reece had never been able to tolerate. You would never find Reece hurtling down a snowy slope or trekking through a mountain trail in winter.
The Sikorsky Stallion helicopter was waiting for them in a part of the carpark that wasn’t covered in an array of tents and portacabins. The engine was turned off, the immense bulk of the helicopter seemed ominous with its black paint job.
“Your ride awaits, Deputy,” Carson said from behind, and Reece reluctantly walked forward. Within thirty steps, she reached the helicopter where the side door was already open, allowing her reluctant access. She doubted this would be the vehicle for her full trip. More likely it would transport her to another destination, and from there she would take a military jet.
Reece could sense that the man behind the fifty calibre door mounted machine gun wasn’t even looking at her. His attention was purely on the threats that might be inbound. Did he know something she didn’t? Reece climbed up into the helicopter reluctantly.
***
“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” Jee said into the satellite phone. “I’m worried that you will get people hurt…but I fear what’s going to happen here when I’m gone.”
“Thank you for telling me,” Rupert Clayton said on the other end. He was fuming but knew to keep the anger under check. Doctor Lee may have been a representative of the detestable Federal Government, but she was freely telling him about the way Carson had treated the woman he adored. She was not the enemy here, but an ally volunteering him information.
“I thought you had a right to know. This Major Carson won’t be here to threaten your wife but…but I think you need to keep an eye on what’s going on in here.”
“I have men inside,” Clayton advised her. “They will tell me when I need to act.” Jee noticed that he didn’t say IF. Jee broke the connection with him, the phone going into her bag. This wasn’t the sort of thing she should be doing, but she felt somehow responsible for the thousands of lives that were being ended in the Astrodome, lives that she was leaving behind.
Yes, she really wasn’t sure she should have done that. It was one of those decisions you made and then agonised over for weeks in case it was the wrong path to take. Men like Carson were likely an aberration in the US military, so she doubted most of the soldiers guarding the infected were as dangerous as him. Things could go bad though, despite the good intentions that were behind the quarantine of those whose lives were forever ruined by contracting Lazarus.
Jee had once read a book called Ordinary Men about how average, mainly family men were converted into killers who helped purge 1940’s Poland of the Jews. She was well aware what terrors so-called decent people could be forced and manipulated into perpetrating. The USA was heading towards a time where civility and human kindness would be considered a weakness rather than a strength.
Despite the fact they were infected, the people in here deserved to be treated in the best way possible, and Jee knew that with her absent, there was a risk that things could get dark pretty damn quickly. Dereck was a competent doctor, but his skills as an administrator and a team leader were seriously lacking. He was a classic example of someone rising to a level too far above their ability. Any effective influence the CDC had in how the quarantine was run would end with the departure of Jee. She even wondered if that was part of the reason why she was being shipped out. Several times she had needed to butt heads with the military commander here, and it was clear he was getting tired of her interference. The military might well have been put in charge of fighting Lazarus, but surely they still needed to be held accountable via civilian oversite.
This place needed someone to keep it in line, to keep the military in
check for as long as possible. And Dereck wasn’t the person to do it. Jee suspected that was why she had felt compelled to ring Doreen’s husband and tell him what she had witnessed here. Carson’s actions were the first step down the totalitarian nightmare that was threatening to engulf the country. As a lifelong Democrat, Jee had detested many of the decisions made by the then Attorney General Jacqueline Fairchild. The woman was far too religious for the good of the country, and now the damned woman had been made President. How does that even happen?
In Jee’s opinion, nothing good could come of that.
Jee wasn’t surprised to learn that Rupert Clayton had contacts in here. He was a well-known militia leader. It was only natural that there would be men and women in the military who would be linked to him. Many of the soldiers here were National Guard, ripped from their normal lives to help fight the plague sweeping across the country. Jee just prayed he didn’t do something stupid.
With her ready bag and laptop, Jee gave one last look at the office she had briefly owned. She wouldn’t be coming back here, something she wasn’t too disappointed about despite her sense of duty. The research facility she was going to would hopefully allow her more opportunity to do what she did best, as well as allowing her the freedom to spend most of her time without the confining hazmat suit enveloping her. Working in the field was necessary, but she had always been best in the sterile environment of the laboratory.
Closing the door behind her, Jee made her way towards the exit.
“Doctor,” someone said behind her. It was Doreen, and Jee stopped long enough for the woman to catch up to her.
“Doreen, I can’t stop.”
“How can you allow them to do this to Clarice?” Doreen insisted.
“I don’t have any say in this.”
“Bullshit. The CDC is supposed to be in charge here.”
The Lazarus Strain Chronicles (Book 3): The Fall Page 6
