The Lazarus Strain Chronicles (Book 3): The Fall

by Deville, Sean

  Lizzy heard a shout, heard feet running over the wooden floor in the hall that led from the front door to the kitchen. Then the pain in her scalp was swallowed up by a greater agony as teeth bit sharply on her ear. Not enough to break the skin’s surface, but enough to hold the flesh as it was pulled and ripped from the side of her head. The suffering took her then, all too much, heartbreak mingling with the torment no child should ever be subjected to. Just before Lizzy passed out, she heard the loud report of the pistol as the policeman shot and killed the seventeenth zombie to manifest in Los Angeles.

  Every crisis had a beginning, and already, the undead were on the brink of rising up all across the city. Lazarus had spread hard, and it had spread fast across LA. The city would fall, but by the time that happened, Lizzy would be far, far away.

  23.08.19

  Preston, UK

  All three men had reacted violently to the antiserum, the machines blaring their disapproval at the health of the men’s bodies. So violent were the contractions that Dawson had even broken one of his restraints which had required Smith’s swift intervention.

  Smith remembered the video footage of the first reported outbreak. The recording of the hospital ward hadn’t been of the greatest quality, but it had shown how the zombified Peter Dunn had been able to rip the restraints away, allowing him to attack those who had been intent on saving the man’s life. That was before they truly knew the dangers of Lazarus, a time when things like rank and honour still mattered.

  Smith had managed to get the flailing arm tied off, more to stop Dawson damaging the surrounding equipment than out of any concern that he would hurt himself. He didn’t give a toss for any of these men’s personal wellbeing. Smith’s experimental subjects lay quietly now, the occasional ripple running through their muscles, the smell of vomit and shit strong in the room. That was something he wasn’t going to clean up, they could do that themselves when they were eventually freed from their enforced bondage. All three men had regurgitated whatever was left in their stomachs, and Smith had needed to work quickly with the suction apparatus he had to ensure they didn’t aspirate the vile brew into their lungs.

  When the contortions had ceased, Smith had untied the men so that he could turn each of them over into the recovery position. That way, if they threw up again, there would be less chance of them drowning in their own spew. Smith had, of course, tied them back up again for there was still one further aspect to the experiment that needed completing. In an ideal world, he would have been provided with dozens of test subjects, each being used to eliminate a variable that might impact the effectiveness of XV1. Any ethics and morals he might once have possessed had now been burned from his mind like hapless trees in a forest fire. The men bound up before him were tools, nothing more.

  “So what happens afterwards?” The Voice suddenly asked.

  “What?”

  “Well, say you prove the XV1 works. Then what?”

  “Then I release them.” To be fair, Smith realised he hadn’t thought about any point past that. Something was driving him, and he still hadn’t fully pinpointed his true motivation for why he was even doing all this. When the zombies had attacked the barracks causing him to flee from the scene, he thought at the time that he had been running for his life. Perhaps there was more to it than that.

  “Okay you release them, but then what?”

  “I don’t know.” It was the only answer Smith could give.

  “You see why you need me around? You don’t even realise what you are creating here.”

  “I don’t need you,” Smith insisted. “You are an aberration.”

  “What if I’m not?” insisted The Voice. “What if all the people you cure split like we have split? How useful will your damned cure be then?”

  “Just shut up,” Smith roared, suddenly frightened that his glory might be tarnished.

  “Hey, I’m just saying. No need to lose your shit. Just know that I think you are doing the right thing. I have it on good authority.”

  “What authority?”

  “You aren’t ready to learn that yet. You are still too belligerent. A good night’s sleep will change all that, though.”

  Smith stood looking at the three unconscious men. He would need to come up with a plan to keep these three onside assuming their bodies accepted the cure he had administered. The whole experiment was hampered by the lack of scientific equipment to check the three men’s blood. So, for now, he would need to rely on the clinical manifestation of the disease. If the men lived, then that would be enough for the present.

  Smith left the room safe in the knowledge that the IV drips and the machines would keep the patients stable while XV1 hopefully worked its magic. There was something else he needed to find. Just as had happened to Smith, he needed to expose one of the subjects to a further viral load, and he knew exactly where to look.

  Outside, a light drizzle was forming, which chilled the air. Smith didn’t care, barely even noticed, so focused was he on his task. He had survived Lazarus, a bit of rain wasn’t going to do him any harm. Ahead on the ground, the ruined torso of Stephanie(Z) could be seen crawling across the parade ground. That would be more than adequate for what Smith needed.

  “You really want to be carrying that around with you?” The Voice had a point. In the early days of his experiments, they had discovered something. Smith remembered back to the first zombies he had ever seen, victims from the initial attack in Wythenshawe Hospital. He had watched as the infected individuals had died and come back, giving Smith and the army scientists important information about how the virus killed. To his knowledge, though, nobody yet knew just how Lazarus was able to defy the laws of nature. They just knew that it did, so long as the base of the brain remained intact. That seemed to be the centre of it. They had even shoved one of the zombies through an MRI scanner, only the reptilian part of the brain showing any kind of activity.

  It had been Smith who had ordered one of the original zombies be decapitated. He had expected that to kill the creature, but surprisingly the head had carried on with its animation, the jaw moving to try and get the teeth onto anything human it could chew. That was the fate that now awaited Stephanie(Z). The body was irrelevant to Smith’s needs so he would leave it for the crows. All he required was the head, and he went off in search of something to achieve the task. Surely it wouldn’t be too hard to find an axe or a saw in an army barracks?

  23.08.19

  Frederick, USA

  It was the first time Reece had seen Jee outside of her hazmat suit. The doctor came in sheepishly as if she was reluctant to converse with the people she was now being forced to experiment on. Jee briefly stopped to look at the still sleeping giant before walking to the other three occupied cells. She was dreading telling Reece what she knew had to be said.

  “Jee, thank God,” Reece said, standing from her cot. The child was still asleep, Reece and Jessy having briefly run out of things to talk about. Small talk didn’t mean much in the early stages of confinement, but it might become everything as the days progressed. Jee briefly nodded a hello to Jessy before turning all her attention to Reece. “Jessy, this is Doctor Jee Lee. She was with me at the Astrodome.” Jessy didn’t say hello. To her, Jee just represented another one of her captors.

  “Before you ask, there is no way I can get you out of here.” Reece seemed to deflate slightly. “And I’m sorry for what was done to you in the helicopter. There’s no excuse for it.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Reece said genuinely. Reece could see the remorse and the resignation in Jee’s face. And whilst she was free to walk about, Reece wondered if perhaps Jee was a prisoner here as well. “What do they have you doing?”

  “We are discovering things about the virus that we never thought possible. I’ve been assigned to the team trying to find a way to make a vaccine.”

  “And how’s that going?” Reece asked.

  “It isn’t really. The virus itself is hard to isolate, and it’s already started
mutating, changing its structure. It’s like it’s fighting against us every step of the way.”

  “Why are we being held like this, Jee?” Reece watched the doctor’s eyes.

  “There are certain things I’m not allowed to share with you, with any of you,” Jee responded with true regret in her words. “As long as I follow the rules, I can be of some help to you.”

  “Help?” the woman called Jessy asked with derision, Jee turning to look at her.

  “If only a little. You need to believe I’m not the enemy here.”

  “So you can’t tell us what you will be doing to us?” Reece figured it didn’t really matter, because she would find out soon enough.

  “No, but you need to listen to what I’m about to say Clarice, really listen.” Jee looked scared now. “The people running this want results and they aren’t prepared to put up with anything that might get in the way of that. If you cooperate, if you do what they tell you to when they tell you, it will go easier on you.”

  “I don’t like being pushed around, Jee,” Reece warned. “You know that.”

  “I know, but there are two ways this will be done. And please, remember it’s not me saying this. All of this,” Jee said, looking up at the surrounding ceiling, “is abhorrent to me. But at the same time, this place is the only game in town when it comes to fighting Lazarus. As bad as it is here, it’s the only chance we have as a species.” Jee stepped closer to the door to Reece’s cell and unlocked it. The door opened, Reece stepping back briefly. Reece had noticed there were no keys involved, so she was bewildered by how the door mechanism worked.

  “Major Carson has promised that if you behave, there will be no repeat of what happened in the helicopter. He did that only to show you that he could, that he was willing to take any and all measures.” Jee closed her eyes and shook her head sadly. “I know you will hate me for saying this, but if you play nice, he will make things easier for you. Resist…”

  “Sounds a bit like good cop, bad cop this, Doc,” Reece insisted.

  “It is what it is. Which is why I’m here. They want your help with their latest experiment.”

  “They?” Reece reckoned she was about to meet the people really running this place. Carson was clearly just a goon, an attack dog sent on errands.

  “Yes, Professor Schmidt and her team.”

  “This Schmidt should be here telling me this,” Reece said stubbornly.

  “Clarice, please,” Jee begged. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. If you had seen what I’ve seen…” Jee couldn’t get the rest of her warning out.

  “Fine. What are we waiting for?” Reece was surprised by the amount of freedom she was suddenly being given, and she stepped out of her cell hesitantly, as if it was all some kind of trick. There was no real freedom, not really. Even free of her cell, with no armed guards visible, there was nowhere she could go without other people’s permission.

  Jee led the way to the door she herself had entered the room through, said door opening without her input. Was it some automatic mechanism, or was someone controlling things remotely? Most likely the latter, the constant eyes watching her every move. Why the hell had this place even been built?

  Jee and Reece stepped into a short corridor with a substantial security door at the other end. This area was obviously designed to be some sort of airlock, and to her right, four hazmat suits hung off hooks. With Reece and her fellow patients all immune to Lazarus, there was no risk of them carrying the virus, so the suits were of little purpose. Lazarus couldn’t survive in their bodies, meaning the protective clothing wasn’t deemed necessary at this time. Not with this part of the research at least.

  The facility Reece found herself in had obviously been built years ago, and Reece suddenly had the impression that she was miles beneath the Earth, most likely trapped here for the rest of her days. This was not the time for optimistic, happy thoughts.

  Had anyone been in her cell before her, or was she the first victim to be confined there? She suddenly had an image in her mind of dozens of people forced here against their will so that some mad scientist could infect them with God only knew what.

  The thick door opened, and Jee motioned for Reece to follow her. Everything remained well lit, the corridor she now stepped into white and curving around to the right so that Reece couldn’t see the end of it. They walked several paces before Jee stopped beside a door without a handle.

  “Clarice, you know if there were any way for me to get you out of this I would. You know that, right?” Jee was starting to sound too apologetic, as if she was somehow blaming herself for the predicament Reece found herself in.

  “I think I believe that, Jee,” Reece said. Reece considered herself a fairly good judge of character, and she saw nothing but honesty and regret in Jee. No, that wasn’t technically true, there was sadness there as well. It was clear to Reece that Jee was torn. On the one side she was objecting to the way the immune were being treated, and on the other Jee knew that to help cure Lazarus she had to cooperate. How far would Jee go though, before saving the world no longer became her prime priority? Would her inherent sense of ethics override the need to save the planet? Or would she be swept up by the evil of this place for the supposed greater good?

  The door opened almost silently. Inside, everything was blackness.

  “When you go in, wait for the lights to come on and then sit in the chair in the middle of the room,” Jee instructed. “You are safe in this room, despite what you might see.” Jee put a hand on Reece’s shoulder, the first time the two had actually touched since Reece had come here. “Clarice, don’t give them a reason to hurt you.” The words were choked and sent a shiver down Reece’s spine. They were also clearly forbidden.

  “Doctor Lee,” a loud female voice said out of the ether, “please abstain from touching the test subject.” Reece didn’t recognise the voice, but Jee clearly did. Jee recoiled from Reece as if she was a frightened child chastised by a harsh and authoritarian maiden aunt. Jee took a further step back as if to further distance herself, leaving Reece free to step into the uncertainty the room represented.

  It had surprised her how warm the floors felt on her bare feet, despite their cold, clinical appearance. It was obvious to Reece that the facility had underground heating, which meant no expense had been spared here. The lack of windows also reinforcing the notion that she was underground, likely in a place kept secret to the world. A few months back, Rodriguez, her now deceased partner, had been briefly obsessed by the government’s many subterranean structures, going down one of the many conspiratorial rabbit holes he tended to venture into. Just because you were in law enforcement, didn’t mean you couldn’t catch the conspiracy bug. If Reece was underground, then this was clearly an example of the facilities Rodriguez had been talking about, funded by billions in money spirited away from the Pentagon’s budget. Now that Reece got to experience what the US government was truly capable of, she began to think that maybe there had been secret agendas and plots within plots all along. As mad as it sounded, maybe Rodriguez had been right with his talk about 9/11 and black helicopters.

  Stepping into the room further, Reece was engulfed by the darkness. There was no fear for her, even when the door behind closed, shutting off the last of her light. It took three seconds for the illumination to return, revealing she was in a small square room where the expected chair lay waiting.

  “Please don’t dawdle, time’s a wasting,” the authoritarian female voice said all around her. It was almost jovial in nature, but there was malevolence there as well.

  “Go fuck yourself,” Reece said loudly, but she walked forward anyway, somewhat mindful of the warnings Jee had given her. Clarice, don’t give them a reason to hurt you.

  The room with the chair was small enough that if she spread her hands to her sides, she could touch both lateral walls. Although the walls were opaque, they looked to Reece to be made of the same substance as her cell. Sitting down, she waited for what happened next, the ch
air hard and unforgiving against her buttocks.

  Reece didn’t have long to wait. The walls to her left suddenly became transparent, which surprised her, her eyes being drawn. She saw a series of four rooms, each like hers, and each occupied. The difference was that the people in the other rooms were all dressed as soldiers. They didn’t look at Reece, clearly their training and their orders specific in what was expected of them. In a sense, they were prisoners just like her, only their prison was the indoctrination that stifled their minds.

  There was a sliding noise and a before unseen grille opened in the wall directly ahead of her. The holes in the grille were small but enough to see that there was no light in whatever lay beyond. It was also then that she noticed the faint breeze blowing down onto the back of her neck, and Reece looked up and behind to see the vent in the ceiling that was forcing air down onto her. The fact that none of the other participants in this particular experiment were showing any concern did not allay any of the fears that were rolling around in Reece’s head.

  “You are safe in this room, despite what you might see.”

  She thought she heard something from beyond the wall in front of her, like bare feet slapping on the tiled floor. It was still a surprise however, when something slammed hard into the wall, making Reece jump. What the hell were they doing here, and why weren’t they telling her anything? How had her country descended to this insanity?

  The worst shock came when the wall in front of her suddenly went transparent, Reece leaping out of her chair in response to the horror she witnessed. The thing attacking the wall in front of her was a zombie, completely naked, its torso slamming into the impenetrable Perspex, shoulders now hammering on the outer surface. It would have used its hands, but as was clearly obvious, both its arms had been removed as well as its mandible. There was also a metal collar around its neck with hoops that a chain could easily be attached to. How the hell had they managed to capture and do that to a zombie?