Uncivil War: Infected

by Jonathan Dudycha

  “Let me start by saying, I’ve been in contact with the president. He is currently staying at Mount Weather in Virginia along with other heads of state and some of the most brilliant scientists that remain alive. They are making steady progress of this crazy situation.”

  “What do you know?” Colt wanted in-depth information, not vague description.

  The vice president leaned onto his elbows, and his face turned serious. “There are infected at Mount Weather.”

  “What do you mean, infected?”

  “I mean, there are captured infected. Those scientists I spoke of are probing them for information as we speak.”

  “What sort of information?”

  “We’re looking for answers. What these things are. Why they’ve come.”

  “Come? You mean they were sent here? Like from another planet?”

  “No.”

  “Then what?”

  “Again, we don’t understand everything at this point. We’re simply studying them.”

  Colt let the words sink in. He couldn’t believe the possibility. Aliens?

  “Which brings me to you and your boys,” the vice president said. “The President tells me you and your family are . . . special.”

  “Special?” Colt was confused.

  “That’s what the president tells me.”

  “I . . . I wouldn’t consider myself special. I’m just a simple man from the mountains.”

  “But, the president, he said you might be the missing link.”

  “I think you’re mistaken, sir. I just have a brother who’s looking out for me.”

  “Huh. That’s some brother. Must be in the president’s good graces. Nonetheless, it’s good to have you here.”

  “I thank you for that. Another minute and my sons and I would’ve been overrun.”

  “You can always count on those Air Force boys.”

  “Isn’t that the truth.” Again, Colt thought of Jake saving lives. Deep down, he knew his little brother was a hero, even if he’d never seen him first-hand.

  “Have you seen what these infected can do?” the vice president asked.

  Colt laughed. “More than you know.”

  “I figured as much. Have you seen them . . . evolve?”

  Evolve? A word Colt hadn’t thought of using, not until the vice president led into it. The smile from Colt’s face disappeared as his mind transported him back to the road before the helicopter had arrived. Staring at the cluster of men and boys. Seemingly put there to mock him. To remind him he was alone. Then the infected had gone after the cooler. Like they knew the medicine was humanity’s only means of survival. “I can’t be sure, but yes. Since the beginning . . .” Then he thought of Anna. The way she’d rushed at him. Out of anger. Not calculation. “They have changed. Gotten smarter.”

  The vice president sighed. “That’s what we’ve feared all along.”

  Then there was silence. Neither spoke. In that silence, Colt was reminded of the dream. Did the vice president know the name? Was the name Amy important? Or was Colt being foolish? Was the dream senseless? It was of his dead wife. Deep down, though, Colt needed to get it off his chest. The dream bothered him. And Dylan had described something similar. Maybe it was a warning from Anna. A warning from beyond the grave.

  “Does the name Amy mean anything to you?”

  “Hmm. No. Don’t think so, why?”

  Colt’s shoulders fell. “Oh, okay.” He’d hoped to get some clarification.

  “Maybe we could . . .” The vice president stalled, then stood form his chair and walked into the belly of the room. With his back turned, he spoke again. “We can ask one of the infected.”

  Colt shot from his chair. “What? How? What do you mean, ask the infected?”

  The vice president spun back around and faced him. “I mean, we have our own subject here.”

  Colt’s mouth fell open. “What do you mean, you have your own subject?”

  “Some scientists accompanied us from California. Some of our top west coast minds. They are with the subject as we speak. Would you like to see her?”

  “Her?”

  “Yeah, her. They found her not far from here. Wandering alone in the mountains. Our scientists captured her and brought her back.”

  “I . . . I don’t know if I can.”

  The vice president paused. “That’s fine, I don’t blame you. Ugly things, these infected. But maybe she could shed some light on this Amy character.”

  “You think?”

  “Never know. The president has told me we’ve been able to communicate with the infected at Mount Weather. At the time I last spoke with him, I didn’t ask him what the infected said, or what we’ve told them, but I know there has been some communication.”

  “Um, well, if you think it could help.”

  “I have no doubt.”

  The vice president turned to leave the room, and Colt followed, but before they exited, Colt spoke, “Have you heard any news from my brother? From Jake Maddox?”

  The vice president’s face fell. “I’m sorry, I have not.”

  Air left Colt’s lungs, but he remained hopeful. He knew Jake was still alive. He was one tough son of a bitch, and nearly impossible to kill. “If you hear from him . . .” Colt began.

  The vice president finished his sentence, “You’ll be the first to know. Now let’s go see that infected.”

  26

  Once they exited the room, another guard was standing there, one who would accompany them, act as secret service to the vice president. Colt glanced at the man when they exited. He was well built and had a stern gaze.

  As he walked along with the vice president, Colt asked. “Are you sure my boys won’t be any trouble?”

  “Nonsense. Colonel Jenkins can handle them. I’m sure of it.”

  Colt huffed, then said. “They’ve been through quite a lot.”

  “We all have,” the vice president said.

  Colt realized he was being selfish. All he could think about was Anna and what the boys must be feeling. He didn’t have the time, nor the luxury, to think about anyone else and what they’d lost. “Did you . . .” Colt waited for the vice president to look his way. “Lose anyone?” Colt finished.

  The vice president refocused his attention ahead and waited a moment, perhaps to hold his emotion inside. “A son, grandson, and daughter-in-law.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t worry, son. We’ve all lost.”

  At his words, Colt fell silent. At least he wasn’t going to lead the conversation. Instead, he paid more attention to their walk and the scientific infrastructure of the complex. More rock arced above as they walked. Soon they came upon a doorway. The guard stopped and allowed the vice president to enter first.

  “She’s just through here.” The vice president stepped ahead.

  A knot in Colt’s belly formed. He was nervous. He didn’t know how he would react to seeing an infected woman in a controlled environment. So far, his interactions with them had not been savory. He breathed deep and followed the vice president.

  Three people stood against a wall of glass. Each wore a white lab coat. Colt’s eye moved to what was beyond the glass. The infected woman was laying down with leather straps locked over her chest and thighs.

  Each scientist leaned over a set of gauges and controls when a loud beep caught Colt’s attention, then his eye. He looked to the corner of the room where the woman’s vitals were registering on a computer screen.

  “Everyone, I’d like to introduce someone,” the vice president interrupted. All three scientists turned in unison. “This is Colt Maddox.”

  Colt nodded. “Hi.”

  “Colt, this is Dr. Bradley Jones, our lead scientist.” The vice president motioned to the man on the left.

  Colt shook his hand, then the vice president continued. “Mr. Maddox here has something he’d like to ask the infected woman.”

  Stunned, the scientists wondered what the vice president could poss
ibly be talking about. Why was Colt brought in? What was so special about him?

  Colt proceeded to the center of the room to speak as the scientists took their seats and studied him.

  “Well . . . I . . . uh, don’t know where to start.” He stumbled. The knot was even tighter now. They’re going to think I’m crazy, he thought to himself. He stalled, waiting, as if the name would automatically burst out of him. Breathe. Just say it. “This is probably going to sound crazy, but . . . I had a dream.”

  “You had a dream?” Dr. Jones asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “What was the dream about?” Dr. Jones suggest Colt continue.

  “I was dreaming of my . . . well my wife.”

  “She was infected?” Dr. Jones deciphered.

  “That’s right,” Colt spoke again. “But in the dream, I was chasing my wife on a beach—one we went to on our honeymoon.” Colt looked to each scientist. He could tell he was losing their attention and interest in the story. He rushed to the point. “I chased her for a long time. Then her body turned. Well, she turned into an infected. Like I saw her do in our bathroom two days ago. Her spine dotted black from the base of her back to the nape of her neck. When she looked at me, her eyes were no longer sea green; they were vacant black bulbs. Then she spoke. Not a screech, only one word.”

  Dr. Jones leaned forward on his chair in anticipation. “What word?”

  “It was a name actually. The name Amy.”

  He said it like it was supposed to mean something. Dr. Jones glanced at the other two scientists. Both shrugged. They had no idea. “Which means, what?” Dr. Jones said.

  “At first, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but when I awoke, my oldest son came to me and described to me in detail an identical dream he had that same night.”

  Nobody spoke. Colt shifted in place, uncomfortable where he stood. The vice president could see the tension in the room, so he stepped forward and said, “I told, Mr. Maddox here I would run it by you, maybe even the infected woman. Have you had any verbal communication with her yet?”

  Dr. Jones leaned back in his chair, then pushed up to his feet. “We’ve spoken to her from here. Through the speaker.” Dr. Jones nodded to the corner of the room inside as Colt and the vice president stepped forward to the glass.

  “Have you had any luck?” the vice president said.

  “No, sir. We’ve talked to her. Used a sequential set of beeps. Ambient noise. You name it, we’ve probably tried it. Nothing seems to create any sort of sensation inside of her head. No raise in heartrate. Body temperature, nothing.”

  “Interesting,” the vice president said. Everyone remained silent for a moment before the vice president spoke again. “What if we try the name, Amy?”

  Dr. Jones eyed the vice president, then Colt. His face told them he didn’t have much faith. “I guess we can. Gretchen, do you mind?” Dr. Jones looked to one of the other scientists.

  “Not at all,” she said.

  Gretchen reached forward and typed into the keyboard. She tapped a few buttons, then said, “In five seconds, we’ll be live. It takes a moment for the technology to catch up. Now that we’re back in the dark ages.” Gretchen grinned.

  Colt smiled back, then looked back to the infected woman. It was the first time that he’d noticed she was mostly nude, aside from pair of white underwear. Colt refocused on the infected’s head out of respect. But upon studying her from behind the glass, Colt scrunched his brow and leaned forward. She was familiar. Something about her. But it was difficult to decipher from that far away. Until he continued down her body. Once his gaze met her ankle, his heart stopped, and his mouth gaped. He shook his head and blinked his eyes numerous times. He couldn’t believe it. On the infected woman’s left ankle was a marking. A tattoo with three letters.

  C.J.M.

  Which aptly stood for Colton. Joseph. Maddox.

  The infected woman was Anna.

  27

  The vice president could see the shock lingering on Colt’s face as he stepped away from the glass. “What is it?” he said.

  “That’s my wife.”

  Everyone in the room whipped their heads back around to look at the infected woman. They watched as her chest rose and fell and her breathing turned from shallow to rapid. In the shock, none remembered the microphone had been left on. It seemed at Colt’s voice, her heartrate quickened, and she shuddered.

  “That’s incredible,” Dr. Jones said with his hand over his mouth.

  But Colt didn’t find this scenario incredible in the least. Although surreal, this experience was torture. There she was, his wife, his Anna strapped down to a gurney. Held against her will to become what, some science experiment?

  “I need to get in there.” Colt stepped toward the door.

  “No. You can’t.” Dr. Jones broke away from his position by the glass and cut off Colt’s path.

  Adrenaline coursed through Colt’s veins. He clenched his fist and gritted his teeth. “I would advise you step aside.” His tone was harsh.

  “Look, I don’t want any trouble.” Dr. Jones held up his hand to deflect Colt’s advance.

  Then the vice president joined the doctor by his side. “I agree with Dr. Jones. I don’t think it’s wise for you to enter that room, Mr. Maddox.”

  “That’s my wife in there.” Colt straightened his arm and pointed through the glass.

  “I know, Colt.” The vice president placed his hand on Colt’s chest. “But I believe what Dr. Jones is trying to say is we don’t know how she will react to having you there. We’ve already seen a spike in her vitals when you spoke. If you enter . . .” the vice president waited.

  “If I enter, what?” Colt wanted to know.

  Then Dr. Jones filled him in. “You might kill her.”

  “What? How can you know that?” Colt said.

  “We don’t, but . . . she is the only captured infected we have. If we lose her, we’re going to be back at square one,” Dr. Jones said.

  Colt peered back at Anna. It seemed her breathing had calmed. But why? Frantically, he searched the faces of the scientists for an answer.

  “I turned off the speaker,” Gretchen said, maybe reading through the lines.

  Then the vice president continued. “And you said it yourself, Colt, these things are evolving. Using our weaknesses against us. Do you really think it will be easier for us to catch one alive now?”

  His point was clear. Maybe the clearest of all.

  Then Gretchen moved beside Colt and said, “Why don’t we try asking her about Amy? Maybe that will elicit some other response.”

  Colt swallowed his pride and nodded to her. Each man moved back to their original position, and Gretchen returned to the microphone.

  “Wait,” the vice president said. “Maybe we should have somebody else say it. If Colt says the name, how are we supposed to know if she has a reaction to Colt’s voice, or the name?”

  “Excellent point,” Dr. Jones said. “Any volunteers?”

  “I’d love to have that opportunity,” Gretchen said.

  “Excellent.” Jones nodded to Gretchen. She pushed a few buttons, and after a five-second delay, she said, “Amy.”

  Anna’s reaction forced them all backward. She screeched, and her chest rose from the metal at least as high as the strap would allow. Her pained scream lasted only a few seconds, but seemed like an eternity. After the shriek, her body shook, then fell limp, and her heart stopped. The familiar sound of a long beep echoed in the observation room.

  Before Colt could say anything or even move a muscle, Dr. Jones sprinted through the door and into the lab. Everyone watched through the glass as Dr. Jones ripped the defibrillator from the wall, seized it out of the bag, and charged the device. They could all hear the instructions being offered from the machine. Dr. Jones placed the electrodes in the correct positions and waited for the instruction to deliver the shock.

  Tears fell from Colt’s eyes as he looked on. How could he lose her?
How could he lose Anna again? Her body leaped from the table upon the first shock. Still there was no heartbeat. More tears fell. Dr. Jones shocked her again. But again, nothing.

  The vice president rested his right hand on Colt’s shoulder. There for comfort. He watched again as Dr. Jones shocked her a third time.

  They waited . . . and waited . . .

  Then a low, subtle beep. Her pulse was weak, but there. Hope flashed across Colt’s face. Then joy as her heartrate climbed and became stronger. Each person in the room clapped in acknowledgement. And through glassy eyes, Colt smiled at Dr. Jones through the glass, thanking him for bringing his wife back, even if she was only a semblance of what she used to be.

  When Dr. Jones returned to the observation room, Colt wrestled him into a hug. Dr. Jones didn’t know how to react to the unexpected show of gratitude, but soon hugged him back.

  During their embrace, Colonel Jenkins entered and cleared his throat. “Mr. Maddox. Your sons have been asking about you. Wesley is still a little frightened about everything.”

  Colt pushed out of the hug and wiped the tears away from his face. He couldn’t have his sons see him so vulnerable. They’d ask questions about why he was crying, what had sent him into a state of emotion. He took one last look at Anna, then departed with Colonel Jenkins in search of them.

  Colonel Jenkins led Colt to a room designed for stay. Two bunks were pushed against the wall, and a small coffee table sat in the center of the room with only two chairs. Both boys were there, finishing what was left of their ice cream cones.

  “Daddy,” Wesley ran to his father and gripped him tight.

  “Easy, buddy.” It was as if Wesley hadn’t seen his father in days.

  “Take your time here,” Colonel Jenkins said. “We’ll come find you when it’s time to go.” Then Colonel Jenkins spun and began to walk out of the room.

  “Wait.” Colt made Wesley let go as he turned to face Colonel Jenkins. “What do you mean, time to go?”

  Colonel Jenkins was thrown by the question. “I thought the vice president told you. We’re set to move soon. Set to fly to Virginia and meet with the president at Mount Weather.”