The Black: Outbreak

by Paul E. Cooley

  “Yes,” Moore said. “You do. I’m talking about the rest of the team?”

  “I think they’ll understand that.”

  Moore nodded again. She looked pleased. “I may be a Fed, Lieutenant, or spook, or whatever they call us these days, but I truly do not want to have to make this an order or threaten you and your men. As far as I’m concerned, I trust your team to keep their mouths shut and go back to their lives.”

  Sarah cocked her head slightly. “I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming.”

  “But,” Moore said, “we’d like to offer you something instead.”

  “Which is?”

  “We’d like your team to join ours.”

  Sarah blinked. “What team would that be?”

  Moore gestured to encompass the building. “This team. This project. I want you to train our assets based on your experiences with the creature. I want you to suggest arms and weapons capable of dealing with it should we come across another of its kind.”

  She shivered. Another one? That thought scared her more than she wanted to admit. And then it hit her. “You haven’t told me about the hospital.”

  “No,” Moore said, “I haven’t.”

  “How many survived?”

  Moore shrugged. “Does it matter? Your team saved two nurseries. You managed to protect an entire floor of people from meeting that thing on floor five. You saved as many as your men as you could. And most importantly, you kept the entity from leaving the building.”

  “I don’t think I like this,” Sarah said. “This facility, whatever the hell it is, looks like a lab.”

  “It is,” Moore said.

  Sarah narrowed her eyes. “And if it’s a lab, it means you probably have one of those fucking things in here.” A pause hung in the air. With each passing second, another wave of fury roiled from her gut. She wanted to reach across the space between them and snap this grinning woman’s neck like a wishbone. “And if that’s not bad enough, you want me to guard it.”

  Moore’s smiled faded again. The woman’s eyes were as cheerful as ever, and her cheeks were slack, but the tension in the room spiked. “Lieutenant. I’m going to be frank. We captured an entity at the HAL lab, where the creature first arrived. We captured another entity in the bio-waste tank at Ben Taub.”

  “Fuck me,” Celianne said. “You have two of those things?”

  “Correct.”

  “And you haven’t torched them? What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Please lower your voice,” Moore said. “There’s no need to yell.”

  Sarah stood from the bed and then winced as a lightning bolt of pain shot through her chest. She clutched at the broken rib despite herself. “You aren’t stupid,” she said in a low voice. “You know how dangerous those things are and what they’re capable of.”

  “We do.”

  “Like I said,” Sarah said with a laugh, “you’re not stupid.” The laughter died in her throat and the mock smile turned into a savage sneer. “You’re just insane.”

  Moore slowly stood from her chair. She was shorter than Sarah, but the woman wore heels and met her eye to eye. Their noses nearly touched. “No, Lieutenant. I’m scared as hell. And so should you be. Now. Will you please sit down so we can finish this?”

  Sarah was good at reading people, and she didn’t think Moore was lying about being scared. The insanity part? She still wasn’t sure on that front. “Might as well hear it all,” she whispered. She held the stare for a moment more and then slowly sat back on the bed.

  Moore sat in the chair and once again folded her hands together. “We recovered several scientists from HAL. They have a wealth of information regarding the creature and we’ve asked them to join our team. They have. They will lead the creatures’ study so we can properly exterminate their kind if we find any more in the wild. And considering how much oil is being brought up from deep sea trenches these days, don’t you think that’s a wise thing to do?”

  “Is that where it came from?”

  “Yes. A barrel of oil was sent here from a trench near Papua/New Guinea. The creature was the oil.”

  “Christ,” she said. “What happened to the rig?”

  Moore waved her hand. “It doesn’t matter right now. If you agree to join us, then you can know the whole story, see every tape, and talk to the other survivors. I think you’ll find them very helpful. After all, they also managed to kill an entity.”

  “Wish they’d killed the other one too,” Sarah said.

  “Regardless, there are two entities in this building. And I need help in studying them and preparing to exterminate them should we inadvertently bring up another.”

  “And what does that pay?”

  Moore smiled. “More than you’d make if you worked 50 years being a cop.”

  “At least there’s that,” Sarah said. “Is that everything? The whole pitch? Everything?”

  “Yes. Now,” Moore said as she stood, “I can sit here and say that I need you until I’m blue in the face, or threaten you, or torture you, or do whatever you’re afraid I’m going to do. But I think you’ve faced enough adversity just lately. I’d like you to think about it. You’ll have dinner with Mr. Givens later this evening, if you like.”

  Sarah couldn’t help but grin. “Yes. Please.”

  “I thought so,” Moore said and walked to the door. The lock clicked and she opened the door with ease. “You have time to give me an answer. Perhaps you’ll confer with Givens before you make a decision. In any case, it was a pleasure to finally meet you, Lieutenant. You and your team did a hell of a job. Thank you.”

  “And what if we hadn’t?”

  Moore dropped her eyes to the floor and thought for a moment. She finally raised her head, her face completely expressionless. “I like the city of Houston,” she said. “I’d hate to have seen it nuked.” With that, she walked through the doorway and into the hall. The door closed behind her.

  Sarah lay on the bed and closed her eyes. The ache of her broken rib was annoying, but not too painful. She didn’t want to take another pill if she was going to see Givens later.

  She’d no doubt that he would take the deal if she did. She knew Perkins would too. The others? They might or might not. But she’d try to convince them. The alternative? Regardless what Moore said, they’d probably end up with bullets to the backs of their skulls if they turned her down. That was going to be a tricky sell. She hoped it wasn’t true, but Moore was…strange. Hard to read on some things, all too easy on others. That meant she couldn’t be trusted. Not. One. Bit.

  The deal would have to be on paper. And maybe once they saw it, they’d all be able to make a properly informed decision. The carrot of money was one thing. The stick? She didn’t really want to know.

  Making the deal was their only way out. Maybe she shouldn’t trust Moore about anything else, but she definitely trusted the woman’s intention to use her team to make weapons, to train, and to guard. So as long as they needed one another, she could make this work. And if Moore decided they were expendable after that? She’d make sure the woman ended up with a bullet in her skull. Half-asleep, she grinned in the semi-darkness.

  Read on for a free sample of Sea Raptor

  Acknowledgments

  The Black series has been a string of fortunate accidents. While I didn’t originally intend the first book to kick off additional stories, the interest in the creature, its origins, and a possible explanation as to what it is, has kept me writing them. Outbreak was by far the most difficult novel I’ve ever written for far too many reasons to go into. But let’s just say one reason was a near visit from the reaper.

  Without friends like Brent Caudle, Scott Pond, Scott Roche, Justin Macumber, and Terry Mixon, not to mention the continual prodding of my wife, Outbreak would never have been finished. The journey has been difficult, but worthwhile. More importantly, it has set up the fourth book in the series quite nicely.

  It’s been nearly a year since the publication of the second
book, Arrival, and yet the first two books in the series are still bringing in new readers. For that reason, I can’t be thankful enough to you, the reader, the constant support from the Fiendlings, and my fellow authors who’ve helped me find my way.

  Evolution, the fourth book in the series, will tie up the loose ends and answer most, if not all, the questions one might have about the creature itself and its motives. I look forward to writing it and I imagine it will be a much larger tome than this one. With any luck, it will be the best book in the series and I hope to see you again when it’s published.

  Paul E Cooley

  April 2016

  About the Author

  A Parsec Award winning writer, podcaster, and software architect from Houston, Texas, Paul E Cooley produces free psychological thriller and horror podcasts, essays, and reviews available from Shadowpublications.com and iTunes.

  His stories have been listened to by thousands and he has been a guest on such notable podcasts as Podioracket, John Mierau's "Podcast Teardown," Geek Out with Mainframe, Shadowcast Audio, and Vertigo Radio Live. In 2010, his short story Canvas and novella Tattoo were nominated for Parsec Awards. Tattoo became a Parsec Award finalist. He has collaborated with New York Times Bestselling author Scott Sigler on the series "The Crypt" and co-wrote the novella "The Rider" (projected release in 2016). In addition to his writing, Paul has contributed his voice talents to a number of podiofiction productions.

  He is a co-host on the renowned Dead Robots' Society writing podcast and enjoys interacting with readers and other writers.

  For more information about current and upcoming projects, please visit Shadowpublications.com.

  Stalk Paul on social media:

  Twitter: paul_e_cooley

  Facebook: paulelardcooley

  Email: paulATshadowpublications.com

  Mailing List: http://mailinglist.shadowpublications.com

  ONE

  Glenn Flynn wanted her, right the hell now!

  Play it cool, man. Wait for your opening.

  He wondered if he could wait much longer as the bikini-clad redhead bent over the cooler. Glenn ran his eyes up her smooth legs, stopping at her nice tight ass.

  My God, she was hot!

  “Yo, Glenn. Catch.”

  Sara Monaghan tossed him a beer. Despite the gentle bobbing of the speedboat, he caught it.

  “Woo-hoo! You got good hands,” Sara cheered.

  “You don’t know just how good these hands are.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “Glenn.” Sara giggled and blushed. She took a swig of beer and turned on the MP3 player. A deep, thumping beat blared from the speakers. Sara lifted her arms and swung her hips.

  Glenn didn’t think he could get any harder.

  “Don’t just stand there,” she said. “We’re here to party. C’mon.”

  Glenn recognized the look in Sara’s eyes. He’d seen it before in many of his other conquests. That inviting look.

  His opening.

  Sara cheered as they grinded against each other. Glenn ran a hand up and down her side. She gave him a seductive smile.

  High school girls are so easy. It didn’t take much to impress them. He played football for Temple University. He came from a well-to-do family. His father had a sweet boat which he let him borrow whenever he wanted.

  To a 17-year-old hottie, he was god-like.

  When they finished dancing, Glenn drained the rest of his beer. The cool liquid felt good going down his throat, what with the blazing July sun beating down on him.

  “How about some more?” Sara shook her empty can in front of him.

  “Sure.” Glenn would have rather had her than another beer, but this next one would be Sara’s fourth. In his experience, the more booze a chick had in her, the harder it was for them to say no.

  One more and I’m in like Flynn. He smiled at the catch phrase the Temple broadcasters used whenever he caught a touchdown.

  Sara chucked her empty can over the side. So did Glenn. He stared at Sara’s fine ass as she grabbed two more beers. When she straightened up, she looked at the water and tilted her head.

  “What’s that?” She leaned closer to the side.

  “What’s what?”

  “That.” Sara pointed to a spot of water a few feet away.

  Glenn stared hard, then shrugged. “I don’t see anything.”

  “There was, like, a shadow. A big one.” She turned to him with a distressed look. “Do you think it’s a shark?”

  “So what if it is. It’s not like they jump into boats. Besides, I’m here to protect you.” He put and arm around her waist.

  “Glenn.” She giggled and pressed her body against his.

  Yup, it was almost time.

  He leaned in, ready to plant a kiss on Sara’s neck.

  That’s when she squirmed out of his grasp.

  “What the hell?” he blurted.

  “Oh, keep your pants on. At least for another minute.” She flashed him a big smile.

  Glenn looked down at the bulge in his swim trunks. He doubted he’d be able to keep them on another second, never mind an entire minute.

  Sara reached into her handbag and pulled out her cell phone. “I wanna record this and send it to my friend Maddy. She’s gonna be so jealous that I hooked up with a stud like you.”

  She leaned against him, one arm around his waist, the other holding out her cell phone. Glenn wondered if he could convince her to record them doing it. Some of the other girls he’d nailed had been willing, and his sex vids were always a hit with his friends at parties.

  “Hey, Maddy. Just wanted you to see the really, really hot guy I’m with at The Shore. Think about me and think about him while you’re on your lame family trip to New Hampshire, because we’re gonna—”

  A splash of water erupted behind them. Glenn turned.

  Something heavy slammed down on the boat. The bow rose out of the water. Sara screamed as she and Glenn fell. He hit the deck hard. His head throbbed. He closed his eyes and grimaced.

  Sara screamed louder.

  Glenn’s eyes cracked open, then went wide.

  A maw of razor-sharp teeth hovered over him.

  He tried to move, to get the hell away. Fear paralyzed his muscles.

  The teeth clamped down on his head. Glenn Flynn felt a moment of intense, piercing pain.

  Then nothing.

  TWO

  “For God’s sake, Jack, relax. I’m your father, not a general.”

  Jack Rastun groaned under his breath as he loosened his muscles. Being out of the Army for nearly a year had done nothing to lessen the military bearing drilled into him since his ROTC days. Standing at attention before a superior officer was instinct for him. As Director of the Philadelphia Zoo, his father was, for all intents and purposes, his superior officer.

  Dad leaned his portly frame back in his seat, the overhead light shining off his balding dome. His eyes shifted from Rastun to a cushioned chair in front of his desk, then back to Rastun.

  “Are you waiting for an invitation?”

  “Sorry, sir.” He sat down.

  “Jack, how many times do I have to tell you? This isn’t the Army. You can call me Dad when we’re in here.”

  “Right.” Rastun didn’t know the exact number of times Dad told him, “This isn’t the Army.” He just knew it aggravated him every time he heard it.

  Dad clasped his hands together. “So, here it is. Your six month evaluation.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Dad stared at him, as though expecting him to say more. When Rastun didn’t, he tapped on the keyboard of his laptop.

  Rastun passed the time by looking at the photos of various animals on the walls. His gaze shifted to the desk, cluttered with paperwork and flanked by framed photos. One in particular caught his eye. Him in his Class A Uniform with his tan Ranger beret.

  He looked down at his blue slacks and white shirt with a SECURITY patch over his left breast.

  How the mighty have fallen.<
br />
  “I have to say,” Dad said. “Most of the comments that Dick had about you were positive.”

  “Most?” Rastun wondered what Dick Camilli, the head of zoo security, didn’t like about the way he did his job.

  “Well, he says you’re punctual and follow instructions. You haven’t been written up for any discipline issues or received any complaints from zoo guests.”

  “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

  The corners of Dad’s mouth curled. “Dick expressed concerns that, at times, you overstep your bounds.”

  “How so?”

  “During our last emergency drill, you and two other guards were assigned to check Independence Schoolhouse. You started yelling at them when they couldn’t keep up.”

  “It’s a big building,” said Rastun. “We need more than one guard to do a thorough search. Every second counts during an emergency. I can’t afford to wait for them and neither can anyone who needs help.”

  “Both those guards are in their fifties,” Dad explained.

  “Then maybe they should be doing something else if they can’t keep up. Who knows what we could be facing in that building? I need to know the people assigned to me are going to be with me when I make entry. Quite frankly, that should be a four-man job, so we can go in two-by-two and make sure one guard is always watching the other’s back.”

  “Yes, you explained that to Dick, along with your recommendations for security upgrades to the zoo.”

  “Not that he listened to any of them.” The result of all his meetings with the zoo security director did not sit well with him. He’d known Dick Camilli since his senior year in high school. He’d always gotten along with the retired cop and felt he’d be receptive to his ideas.

  Instead, Camilli said he was being more than a little paranoid.

  “He did listen to them, Jack. It’s just that some of your suggestions, many, in fact, don’t fit the public image we want to present.”

  “What about our responsibility to keep our guests safe?” Rastun countered.