What Remains: The Outbreak

by Tyler Barrett

  A silhouette appeared shortly after in the doorway leading to the office. Carter signaled it was all clear and the silhouette materialized into Knight.

  “What’s going on?”, Asked Knight.

  Carter whispered, “Sir, we should probably check on the base, the storm is getting pretty crazy,” He paused and pointed outside. “If it is this bad here on the ground I don’t want to begin to think what it is like at the top of that building.”

  Knight mulled it over and quickly walked back into the other room. “Smith, can you hand me that radio you grabbed from the tower.?”

  Smith dug into his pack and pulled out a radio handset, handing it over to Knight. The others perked up at the commotion, while Knight turned on the radio. He turned it to the channel and called on it.

  “Langston or anyone else copy?”

  He waited a few moments, not wanting to cut them off on the other end. He was about to call again when a garbled response met him.

  “Langston here... Copy... Storm….”

  Knight let a breath out, the base was still there at least.

  “Bad copy; repeat transmission. The storm is interfering.”

  The Static was overwhelming most of the transmission, even though they had only made it about five of the fourteen blocks down the street. They weren’t too far from the base or the crash.

  “Repeat... base is secure... taking quite a beating… but secure.”

  Knight felt the pent-up worry leave his body, “Good copy, notify if anything changes. Let’s check back at O’six-hundred.”

  “Ten-four, O’six-hundred.”

  Knight handed the radio back to Smith. Smith packed it back up and sat back down.

  Knight entered the office room again, feeling a little more reassured now that he knew the base was doing fine. Now once the storm was over, he could turn his full focus to finding the pilots and bring them back safely. However, for now, he was stuck sitting in some office building hoping for the storm to end. He decided to talk to Smith, to at least keep himself occupied.

  “Find anything interesting in that brochure?” He asked.

  Smith looked up from where he was sitting, eating a candy bar, “Nah, nothing I didn't already know.”

  “Well you know when we get back, you still owe me twenty bucks right?”

  “For what? That last game we watched?” Smith asked.

  Knight chuckled, “Yeah. You said that if my team won, you would give me twenty dollars. Guess what. My team won.”

  Smith replied with a smirk, “Yeah, but you never paid me for the game before that. Remember, my team won. So technically it cancels each other’s debt out.”

  Knight put on an even bigger smirk, “As your commanding officer I order you to pay up your debt.”

  “Oh, I see...it's going to be like that. How about this, I bring the beer, and you bring the food next time?” Smith asked with a grin.

  Knight pretended to think it over, “Hmm, I guess that works. But don't get any of that cheap ass beer.”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” Smith waved him off.

  Knight walked over to the corner of the room. It was one of the only things he had to look forward to; him and Smith every time they were back at their base they would go to each other’s houses and watch what game was on. It didn't matter what sport or what teams were playing. They both just watched the game, deciding previously who they were going to cheer for. It was their ritual, they brought beer and pizza.

  They would spend the next few hours talking about how bad the other person's team was, and it normally ended up with them betting who would win. They had never actually paid each other what they betted, and that was part of their inside joke. Sometimes if the game they were watching were too boring, they would play video games, normally only games they could play co-op. Even then they would sometimes rent or go to the movies to watch the newest action movie, always laughing at how ridiculous the scenes with explosions and gunfire was unrealistic.

  They were each other’s best friend. The only other person they trusted. It wasn't easy to make friends in their line of work, and even so, you couldn't tell others about what you did. It was all classified, but they could talk about it to each other because they had both worked the op.

  Knight daydreamt about being back in his own home, in his nice comfortable recliner, sipping an ice-cold beer, watching a game. It sounded better than heaven compared to what they were dealing with presently. A loud booming thunder shook the building they were in and snapped Knight out of his heavenly daydream. He was still in a travel agency, hidden away in the offices.

  It was going to be a long night, and that was an understatement. He took a long, deep sigh, knowing he was too awake even to attempt to take a nap. He decided to follow everyone else and dug out an MRE. He was ready for the long haul of the night.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Ramirez took the second shift of watch, he tapped Carter on the shoulder, whispering, “I’m here to relieve you.”

  The storm was still going strong but had lessened a bit. Ramirez settled down near the door and rested against his pack. Checking the outside again, he mentally marked where everything that he could see was still in the same place.

  Ramirez returned to his private thoughts. He was still trying to figure out the infection and its symptoms. When they found the dead bodies on top of the roof, there was something very different and wrong about them. Ramirez moved the bodies that were left on the rooftop and piled them near the edge away from the base.

  After examining a few, he quickly was perplexed by what he was seeing. From a medical standpoint, it was easy to see an infection was rampant. Even without his medical training, he could tell that these people weren’t normal anymore. He was about to call the others when he noticed the differences, but quickly changed his mind; he wanted to be sure before he brought anything up.

  So much had already happened, and he didn’t want to unload more on the rest of them. It was times like this that part of him missed the old days when he was just a normal doctor. Well not a normal doctor, a surgeon. He missed being able to save people’s lives and then seeing the families of the people he had saved happy. It was different in the military, you saved someone’s life on the battlefield, and then they were medevac’d back to some triage hospital. You never knew if they were going to make it or not, and you never saw that person again normally.

  But it was here and now, and he had no choice but to face the problem head-on. The bodies of the civilians had several things that stuck out as wrong. The first and major one was that their veins were bulging against their skin, blackened with hardened blood. The second was their eyes, filled with blood to the point that their eyes were black as well. The last thing he noticed, a major difference was that they all had some wound that was exposed. Some had a tear in their muscles in their arms, others their legs.

  It was safe to say that whatever was causing people to go insane was contagious, but mainly from one infected person to a non-infected person. Oddly enough it would seem that these people had died from their wounds and, yet they were still moving. Maybe it was a virus that traveled through the bloodstream until it reached the brain, shutting down major organs slowly over time. It wasn’t airborne, and that alone eased his mind a bit. Ramirez hoped that he didn’t run into any infected, but knew the likelihood was great. This infection had claimed an entire country, and they were stuck right in the middle of it.

  It was by some miracle that they hadn’t found more than the ones at the base. A city the size of Tokyo had an enormous population. He prayed that their luck wouldn’t run out anytime soon. They had no way of dealing with the infection, and more specifically no gear to help prevent it. They had come in blind and would have to pay the price eventually.

  Ramirez wondered if the government officials that had decided to send knowing more than they had let on during the briefing. They must have had some intel on what was going on. Hell, the US military still had several bases locate
d in Japan, left over from the second World War. Surely, they would have been able to notify someone back home. They had been told they were the advanced recon team before the main force of Marines, but they had two other objectives. Secure Japanese government officials hiding in a secret bunker and obtain research from a lab at a hospital.

  Maybe that’s what the other squad was doing at the hospital. They were the ones being sent in to collect the research, either a sample or a cure. Ramirez bet was a cure; it was the only way anyone would risk sending men into the country. Ramirez continued to try and figure out the bigger scheme, while the storm outside raged on.

  Chapter 21

  Remembering

  Langston watched over the man that lay on a cot in front of him. The man tossed and turned, his body starting to regain some mobility from the sedative. Langston didn’t know what to say to the man once he did wake up. He wasn’t a doctor or a psychiatrist. He didn’t have any training to deal with this situation; the only way he could make this man feel more comfortable was to allow him to have a peaceful sleep.

  Langston didn’t even know if the man would have regained his sensibility after waking up or if he would still be in shock. He didn’t know what would happen, but he was here for the man and would help him in any way possible. Ramirez had left him with more sedatives if the soldier was frantic as had been earlier. Langston hoped that the man would wake up and be perfectly normal, but still held the needle ready if he wasn’t. The storm outside raged on; he wondered if the other two would hear him if he called for help. He could barely hear himself think over the noise.

  A loud crash of thunder reverberated throughout the city, the sound waves shaking the building. Langston closed his eyes during this and made himself think of somewhere else. When he could hear no more thunder, he opened his eyes again; still in an office with a man on a cot. The man on the cot began to stir, the sedative wearing off.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The man’s eyes opened and saw the world. It was a blurry mess, colors melded together. He tried to tell his body to move, but it wouldn’t respond properly, sluggish and unwilling. He had the feeling that his body was waking up from a coma of sorts. He looked around the room.

  The colors started to separate, giving away to more definitive shapes. It was an office, and he was lying on a cot. How had he gotten here? The last thing he remembered was walking out the back of the helicopter, pushing the storage crate. Finally regaining the use of his limbs, he pushed himself up out of the cot.

  He rubbed his eyes and shook his head a little, trying to shake the mental cobwebs away.

  A voice spoke out to him, “Hello, how are you feeling?”

  He jumped, surprised that there was another person in the room with him. He looked over to the corner from which the voice came. It was a man he didn’t recognize, but he wore military garb.

  He spoke to the man, wanting answers. “Where am I? What happened?”

  The man stepped forward putting himself closer, and asked, “What do you remember?”

  He tried to jog his memory of what happened but again fell short. His mind seemed to stop after pushing the crate out of the helicopter.

  He groggily whispered, “I don’t know, I remember going on a mission. Arriving at the LZ and then unloading the crate. After that, I don’t remember anything. Was I in an accident?”

  The man eased a bit, “In a way yes, you were. There are some things you need to know first.”

  Langston took a deep breath and exhaled.

  “I am the pilot of one of the helicopters assigned to your mission. I was forced to return here to the forward operating base after we lost the command ship. We are effectively on our own here, the only people we have is me, two surviving sailors from the command ship, and Delta team. The mission isn’t going so well.”

  “What happened to everyone else? There should be at least three times that many people.”

  “I know this will be a lot to take in, but, well… everyone in your squad is dead. Everyone else but the one team is dead or unaccounted for. The command ship is gone, and we are stuck here in this city. There are only nine of us left.”

  “Where is my team? I want to speak to them.”

  “I don’t think that is a good idea right now. You still are under the sedatives. Maybe you should just lay back down for a bit.”

  Langston could see that he was visibly agitated and becoming more conscious of the situation. He eyed the syringe sitting on the crate a few feet away, hoping to calm the man down without needing to use it. He began to step forward towards the man. He quickly changed the subject to calm the man.

  “What is your name, huh?”

  The man searched his mind, quickly pulling out his name. “My name is Parker. I am an engineer.”

  “Well Parker, my name is Langston. I am a pilot; I am here to help you, OK? I just want to help you.”

  Parker let out a deep breath and looked at Langston. He smiled slightly and nodded.

  “I know you’ve been through a lot. I just want you to take it easy. We need every available person to help out,” said Langston calmly.

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to be aggressive. I just don’t remember anything. Waking up in an unfamiliar room, didn’t help,” said Parker apologetically.

  Langston took a few steps back, “I completely understand. How about I get you some water to drink?”

  “That would be nice,” said Parker taking a deep breath.

  Parker strained his mind, searching for answers to what he remembered. He could remember pushing the container out the back of the helicopter, but after that, nothing. It was like a wall had formed in his mind, stopping him from accessing anything beyond that point. Parker sat up on the cot, rubbing his temples.

  Langston reappeared with a bottle of water extending it out, “Here you go. Drink it slowly.”

  Parker took the water and took a sip. It was cool and refreshing. His mind seemed less hazy, but he still couldn’t remember.

  “How are you feeling now?” Langston asked.

  “Better, the water is great. I still can’t remember anything,” Parker said with confusion.

  “Well, if you remember anything, please share it with us. We are trying to figure out what is going on. You know more than anyone if you can remember anything. I'll leave you alone for a bit. Me and the others are just down the hall if you need anything. Just rest,” said Langston with concern.

  Parker didn’t reply. He was still trying to clear his mind hoping something would come back. Nothing was happening, and it began to frustrate him. He was becoming angry with himself; why couldn’t he remember? There had to be a way to make himself remember.

  He wondered about going see if what Langston said was true. If his team were really dead, maybe seeing them once more would bring back the memory of what happened. However, if what Langston said was true would he really want to see the aftermath; would he want to see his team dead?

  His mind was a mess and uncovering the memories would help with that. He felt it was better to know. If he hid from it, he would never remember what happened. Parker steeled his resolve and decided to remember. He stood up from the cot and moved to the doorway.

  Parker felt a little light-headed, but he was able to walk still. He spotted Langston at the end of the hall talking to two other soldiers and started walking that way. As he got closer, Langston noticed him and jogged over to help him.

  “Hey, take it easy. I’m sure you still aren’t feeling one-hundred percent,” said Langston.

  “I’m feeling well enough. I want to see the bodies,” Parker said.

  “The bodies?” asked Langston, “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  “I think it will help me remember. I need to remember,” said Parker with conviction.

  “Ok, I will go with you,” Said Langston in a worried tone.

  Langston led Parker back down the hall, heading to the opposite end of the building. Parker was slow, but Langston kept pace with him. As
they reached the halfway point, Parker felt anxiety start to build. Langston pointed to the office that held the bodies of Parker’s team. Parker stopped before the door to catch his breath.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Langston asked again.

  “I have to. It’s the only way for me to remember,” Parker said between breaths.

  Parker pushed the door open slowly; within the office lay seven bodies covered by a tarp. He didn’t know what to expect when he pulled the tarp back, but he hoped it would help. Parker leaned down to move the tarp away from the closest body. The smell coming from under the tarp was terrible and only got worse as he peeled the tarp away.

  Dead faces stared back at him. The faces caused him to stop. He knew the faces of the men that layout on the tarp. They were his friends and fellow soldiers. His stomach tightened up, the pain of seeing them dead became a reality and knocked the air out of his lungs. He dropped down to his knees next to a body. It was his best friend, Matt.

  The memories flashed back into his mind so brightly that he felt as though he was reliving them.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  They had quickly unloaded the storage container. The whipping air from the helicopter was making it hard to hear anything. Parker was the first to go into the container and start to rerun the checklist, making sure everything was still there. He grabbed a clipboard off the wall of the container and flipped through the pages.

  He looked up from the clipboard after hearing the shouting. Parker walked closer to the door since he couldn’t hear what they were yelling. A gunshot rang out, over the noise of the helicopter, and shouting. Soon, several more shots rang out. Parker hesitated at the door, wondering if he should look out. He didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire.

  He decided that he should look out and peeked through the crack in the door. What he saw was the exit door to the roof open, with lots of civilians pouring onto the roof. Parker saw the flashes from his team’s rifles as they tried to stop the civilians. He raised his rifle sighting the closest civilian; it was on top of one of his team members, tearing into the man’s flesh. Parker fired at the woman that was on him, putting three bullets into her midsection.