Decaying Humanity (Book 2): Tales of the Decay

by Barton, James

  “It’s sealed tight. Now I’m going to die in this basement and turn into one of those things,” she said sadly.

  Adam threw his weight into the wall and sent tiny cracks through the concrete. “That’s your choice to make.”

  “Death isn’t a choice,” she jabbed.

  “It can be.”

  He made a few shoulder slams and soon the wall began to crumble and fall through to the other side. In less than twenty seconds, he had made a clean hole into a narrow tunnel. There was a powerful smell of mildew that immediately began to emanate into the room. Abby turned her face to the side, as if the odor had come alive and slapped her. As she turned her face Adam could see that her complexion was draining into a nearly colorless hue.

  Adam motioned towards the opening and without a word she began to climb into an old concrete tunnel that would take her away from all this. She crouched into the tunnel; it was spacious enough for her to duck-walk her way to freedom. The tunnel extended off into the darkness. There was a single beam of light that shone far down the tunnel, a storm grate. She turned and looked at Adam.

  “Why did you have to come into my hospital?” she asked.

  “Why did you have to become a doctor? Some things just happen,” he said.

  “Wrong place, wrong time, I guess,” Abby said and coughed loudly.

  “I did try to stop them before they shot you. For that, I’m sorry. If you crawl through that tunnel you are going to bleed to death. That is when your second life will begin, and I don’t know if you will turn into ones of those things from upstairs or something more.”

  “More?”

  “More like me … less like them,” Adam said softly.

  “You think we are slaves to our own survival? That no matter what, we will always choose to live, even if it endangers countless others?”

  “I think you can’t admit defeat when there is a possibility of victory,” he said and extended his hand for a handshake. Abby stared at his hand; her vision was beginning to grow blurry. She stared, unmoving, for a moment longer. She began to speak without accepting his handshake.

  “You’re a real son of a bitch, you know that, right?” she said and crawled into the darkness.

  “I get that a lot, I was a car salesman.”

  Minutes later, soldiers came down the staircase and caught Adam trying weakly to pry open a window that sat parallel to the ceiling. They thought they had caught him attempting to escape. Their mission was to acquire Adam and sanitize the site. After cornering him with twelve heavily armed soldiers, he went quietly into their unmarked van.

  The soldiers in the basement never even noticed Abby in the elevator. If they had, they could have told the others to look for a missing woman. It took thirteen hours before anyone even noticed that the shelf had been moved, or that the blood on the ground belonged to someone other than Adam. But by then, Abby was long gone.

  Patient Zero

  “And why is that?” Doctor Kenji Tran asked as he tapped his pen against the clipboard.

  “It just isn’t something you can fix with science,” Adam responded. Adam was secured to a chair with an uncountable number of restraining devices. Kenji sat in a chair across from him, his small rebreather loudly sucking in air. The room was overly bright, and it really pointed out the stress wrinkles that were beginning to form in the corner of the doctor’s eyes.

  “Well, your condition needs to be stopped. I have to find a cure, because as we speak it is spreading through your hometown like a wildfire.”

  “There is no cure. The only thing you can do is deal with the ones that fail the transition.”

  “Fail? Has anyone ever succeeded? The reports I have been handed show that nearly a hundred people have become infected and all of them have become … failures, as you would put it. I hate to connect this phenomenon to fiction, but it bears a striking resemblance to … zombies.”

  “Zombies? I can see the similarities. You would be amazed at how much of your folklore and fiction are grounded in some sort of reality. But yeah, you could call them that.”

  “Okay … zombies. So, have there been any successful transitions?”

  “I’d consider myself to be a success.”

  “What are you exactly? Are you still Adam?”

  “I like the name, but Adam is … asleep.”

  “Who am I talking to now then?”

  “I’ve had many names Doctor. I’ve been warlords, kings and pharaohs. I’ve been an entire invading army and a family of refugees. Today, I am a car salesman from Ashbury, England.”

  Doctor Tran made some hasty notes on the clipboard and looked up slowly. “Your affliction, it’s not a virus or bacteria. From what I gathered from my research … what’s inside you is a million microscopic parasites. You aren’t infected … you are infested.”

  “Doctor please, such negative words.”

  “Am I wrong?”

  “I would disagree. What do you call the fish that cling to whales, cleaning them of harmful algae? Parasites consume and destroy; they give nothing in return.”

  “But those little fish don’t take control of the whale,” the Doctor replied.

  “True, but what if they could? What if they could see threats the whale could not? What if they could then steer it away from danger?”

  “Are you trying to tell me you are steering Adam to safety?”

  “I’m steering everyone toward evolution.”

  “That’s very noble of you,” the doctor said with a hint of sarcasm. “What about the others, the ones who are gifted with your so-called symbiotes? Why are they dying and turning cannibalistic?”

  “It seems that their bodies are violently rejecting us. The reaction is less than optimal. If the host dies, then we are left alone to operate everything. Imagine driving your car. Easy, right? Now imagine driving your car, but this time, you must manually make each piston move, spin each tire, and move each drop of fluid. It is something we haven’t quite perfected yet.”

  “I believe that’s a pretty big understatement,” the doctor replied.

  Over the next few days, Kenji performed research on samples they extracted from Adam. He came across some immediately startling results. Kenji was a man driven by questions and answers. To him there was no good and evil, there was only failures or results.

  “So, Adam, I think I have found something you might find interesting,” Kenji said.

  “Yes, Doctor?” Adam replied, buried under restraints.

  “I found that salt adversely affects … what do you call them?”

  “I never really thought about it.”

  “I’ll just call them symbiotes for now then. Salt seems to have an adverse reaction to your … symbiotes. Even lightly salted water kills or paralyzes them. Is this something you were already aware of?”

  “I’m all too familiar with my own weaknesses. I guess that could explain why I never liked the beach,” he said with a fake smile.

  “One of my research teams examined your underground chamber. They reported that there was a salt residue on the walls and floor. Any ideas why?”

  Adam squinted slightly and for the first time a look of mild anger arose.

  “Also, electric shock caused the first sample to die,” Kenji continued. “I lowered the voltage, to a level high enough to damage them, but not kill them outright. If they survived the first treatment, they mutated in a way that made them resistant to future shocks.”

  “You might want to stop,” Adam said calmly.

  “Are you afraid I’m getting close to a cure, or an immunization?”

  “No, I’m afraid you might force an evolution you aren’t prepared for.”

  “You underestimate my methods. I assure you nothing will escape this lab.”

  “Sorry, Doctor, I’ve heard better men make bolder promises.”

  Kenji pressed the button on the digital panel and a loud hiss of air burst into the room. He stood staring at the screen until the message “Air Quality – Optimal�
�� displayed. He removed his rebreather and made a quiet sigh of relief. He had already thoroughly tested the airborne symbiotes. Within a windless environment they could only travel about four yards and survive less than two minutes. He still pushed almost ridiculous safety procedures onto his staff. He had promised Adam that this wouldn’t escape the lab, and he meant to keep his word.

  He plopped down on the small green couch and looked around his cold, colorless room. That single couch stood out among the silver and steel colored objects. He pulled out a small recorder and began to take notes. Most of his notes were already logged onto his computer and backed up in triplicate, but the small recorder was more of a personal touch. It was his way of communicating to someone, even if it was, ultimately, only to himself.

  “Audio Log three. I have injected a batch of rats. They show no signs of infection and after twelve hours I took samples from them and only dead symbiotes remained in their blood. When their blood was mixed with Adam’s sample under a microscope it was as if the symbiotes endlessly searched for something to cling to, ignoring the animal entirely. Note for further research: if animals are unaffected can I use that to create an immunization?”

  “So, I heard that you were shot multiple times before you were brought to me. And yet, you show no signs of injury. How is it that you regenerate so quickly?”

  “I told you, unlike parasites, we give more than we take. Keeping the host alive is the highest priority.”

  “I see. How would your symbiotes react to an injured host? Would they still take residence or choose a stronger vessel?”

  “Strength is irrelevant, through union we become powerful.”

  “I see,” Kenji said and jotted some notes down on his clipboard with his blue pen. Adam raised a suspicious eyebrow.

  “I hope you aren’t thinking what I think you are.”

  “What would that be?”

  “This isn’t a designer car; you can’t pick the features you want and drop the others. If you think you can isolate the regeneration effect without …” Adam began.

  “So why can’t you infect animals?” Kenji interrupted.

  “I told you I don’t like that word, infect. I’ve never had the urge to share space with mongrels. We strive to merge with superiority, not pets.”

  “So … you could, if you wanted to?”

  “If we had to, I suppose.”

  “I appreciate your cooperation, so far. If you don’t mind me asking, why have you been so calm and willing?”

  “I spent a couple hundred years … without company. I quite enjoy our conversations. Plus, you aren’t keeping me against my will,” Adam said and looked at his restraints. “When I’m ready to leave, I’ll walk out the front door.”

  Kenji gave him a skeptical look. So far, Adam hadn’t resisted at all. They really had no idea what type of strength he could exhibit. The exit chamber was six inches of forged steel. Without the proper activation codes the room would seal itself shut and flash incinerate everyone inside. Despite his ability to regenerate, it was unlikely that he could withstand the magnitude and duration of that defense. It was the equivalent of standing in a fighter jet’s afterburners for a minute straight.

  “I’m sure you believe that, Adam.”

  “And I’m sure you believe I can’t. That is why we are both still smiling.”

  Kenji stood behind the glass in his small observatory room. His rebreather clicking loudly as he breathed. The room was sanitized and the chances for any airborne contamination were 0.01 percent, but he had never been a gambling man. In the opposite room were twelve patients sprawled out on tables. In the past few days he had come across some amazing results. Symbiotes shocked with low voltage in lightly salted water were pushed into an almost coma-like state. When introduced into diseased blood they acted differently. When applied to the blood of someone suffering from incurable illnesses, the symbiotes exhausted their remaining strength to kill off the sick cells. In a way, they were the cure for everything. The salt and shock treatment made the symbiotes unable to replicate. After they cured the target, they died off within twelve to twenty-two hours. More tests would need to be completed to ensure they could not replicate.

  The patients sprawled out on the table all suffered from a variety of life-threatening illnesses that had no cure. By their own volition they volunteered to have a chance. Kenji knew human testing was illegal, but the people above ground wouldn’t complain if he could create a cure. He felt that the worst thing he could do is let an opportunity like this slip away. For that alone, he would defy the morals of others.

  “Administer the injection,” he said through the loudspeaker. The fully shielded nurse nodded and began to inject them with the weakened symbiotes. He stood at the window with his arms crossed in front of him. He was proud of his discovery. He knew that he would leave his mark on the world.

  Two days later, Kenji was lying on his green couch, speaking to his only friend. “Audio Log six. The patients have done tremendously well. Within the first twenty-four hours they spoke of increased energy levels and enhanced well-being. As for their results, they have all been cured. Among one of the many illnesses that plagued them was cancer, and it’s just plain gone. The cancer has been removed and the only thing lingering in their blood is dead symbiotes. They pose no risk of contagion and should be passed naturally in the next few days. I have documented all my findings and notes. My employer has informed us that these samples of mine have been taken to multiple facilities around the world. Soon the greatest minds in the world will have a firm grasp on the application of this. What started off as my greatest fear can soon be used to cure all diseases known to man. The healing properties of Adam’s extracted symbiotes could be the greatest discovery ever. My creation, Regeneros, can possibly be the key to immortality.”

  “Cured?” Adam questioned.

  “Your symbiotes cured cancer. Do you understand how big of an accomplishment that is?” Kenji asked.

  “You should have never sent out those samples. You are making this far too easy for me.”

  “I was talking about the patients here. What makes you think we sent out samples?”

  “I have a pretty good sense of hearing. Seriously though, you are supposed to be smarter than this.”

  “The samples are being shipped in a container that would require a bulldozer to open. I promise the Regeneros will not get out.”

  “Cute, you named it. I just find it ironic that I had planned to leave here soon and spread through the city. I figured I’d catch a plane to work on the other continents. I guess I don’t need to bother now, you are doing it for me.”

  “You think this will cause a contagion? Trust me, this isn’t going to become some clichéd zombie apocalypse.”

  “I know that you mean well. I just know how this will end.”

  “You sure are confident … for a car salesman.”

  “I’ve always been good at closing the deal.”

  Kenji sat upright on his couch. A blue tray of Salisbury steak was getting cold on the table. He flipped the small recorder in his hands over and over. There was something about this night that made him uneasy. Earlier that day all their communications had gone down. A technician had come by to inform them that something had severed the lines. While they had lost their link to the outside world, they still maintained all their internal comms.

  “Doctor!” a nurse shouted over the loudspeaker. The abruptness and volume of the speaker made him jump.

  “Go ahead,” he called out.

  “Adam wants to talk to you. He said it can’t wait.”

  Kenji stood up and walked over to the small screen by his door. The nurse seemed on edge as she spoke to him. “Fine, put him through.” A moment later an image of Adam appeared on the screen. He was standing in front of the camera still wrapped in his straight jacket. The jacket was a precaution that even the doctor felt was overkill.

  “Hey, Doc, hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “Adam, what can I do
for you?”

  “Oh, I just wanted to tell you that your three patients are in the process of breaking loose.”

  “Three? Wait, how do you know anything about other patients? It wasn’t three, it was twelve,” he responded, realizing at this point keeping information from Adam was nearly impossible. Kenji navigated through the system on the wall to find the status of their rooms.

  “Well, you started with twelve, but only three were successful.”

  Kenji finally found the security interface for their rooms. All twelve were still sealed shut and he began to flick through the cameras. The first few were blank, as if the camera had been destroyed. The other ones revealed images of patients standing motionless in their rooms. Each of the motionless patients had a blank stare plastered across their face.

  “Doctor, I wanted to thank you for the conversations.”

  “How did you know about the patients?” he asked, ignoring Adam’s last comment.

  “Stay in your room, Doctor. I am leaving tonight, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Kenji flicked back to Adam’s room and watched as he snapped the hooks and buckles from his restraints. He looked up at the camera and waved goodbye before slamming his shoulder into the door. As he disappeared from the camera’s view an alarm lit up on the screen. “Cell A4 unauthorized exit.”

  Kenji frantically flipped through the menus on the screen before finding the red lockdown button. He tapped it repeatedly before the siren finally began to wail. With a few more motions, he typed in his password and finalized the lockdown. The front exit was now armed and only his password would open it; otherwise, anyone attempting to leave would be incinerated.

  He flicked through the patients’ rooms and one of them caught his attention.

  “What the hell,” he muttered to himself.

  The patient in the center of the room appeared to have something sliding out of his skin. Every couple of inches something black and shiny seemed to poke out. Kenji flicked his fingers and zoomed in on the image. He leaned in closer to the high definition camera and they almost looked like arrowheads.