Omega Pathogen: Mayhem

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Omega Pathogen: Mayhem Page 7

by Hicks Jr, J. G.


  “OK, OK, I thought maybe we could . . . You know, take a little timeout.”

  “No, we can’t,” she says as she shakes her head, smiles, and turns to walk out of the room.

  She stops, turns back, and walks to Jim. She gives him another hug and kiss. She squeezes his butt with both hands, gives him a smile, and turns to walk out of the room.

  “Shit, woman,” Jim says in frustration and, with a smile, she walks out of the room leaving him with his thoughts. Jim retrieves a bottle of water and takes a few gulps and returns to patrolling the second floor of the home, carefully peeking out each window he comes to. His turn on watch is uneventful. He quietly wakes Chris for his turn. Chris rubs his eyes and picks up the AR-15 that had been lying by him as he slept.

  Chris and then Jeremy’s turns on watch go by without issue. Dawn arrives, and they go through their new normal routine and settle in for breakfast and coffee. Jim tells Chris and Jeremy to take a nap for a couple hours so they’re more rested, then they’ll go over their tactics and a few more before they make the trip outside.

  While the boys are resting, Jim and Arzu go over plans for getting to the MRAP parked in their driveway. The day is clear, so they know they’ll need to wait for the sun to reach its highest, but more importantly, its brightest point.

  They still have fireworks left, so the best plan is to do what worked before. The issue is getting everyone into the MRAP. Everyone needs to go this time because one person can’t expect to both secure and scavenge a building properly. They also can’t leave too few behind; it’s not guaranteed they can defend the home with only one or two adults.

  They’ll figure out if they can get back in later. Jim and Arzu decide to get the extension ladder from the attic, in case they need it in the event the garage door opener motor is dead and the front has too many infected around to risk opening it manually.

  The ladder can be placed out Berk’s window and butted against the high and wide lip of the turret on top of the MRAP. Arzu cuts a king-size bed sheet in two, and fashions each of them so that they can be used like papooses for Berk and Kayra if needed. Jim and Arzu, with the help of Berk and Kayra, get supplies moved into Berk’s room in preparation to be sent down to the armored vehicle, when and if the time allows.

  Jim and Arzu are lowering the ladder down from the attic when Chris and Jeremy begin to stir and then argue about who will use the bathroom first. “Guys, one of you go downstairs and use the bathroom down there, for God’s sake. Just put the obstacles back on the stairs when you come back up,” Jim says, with some irritation in his voice.

  Everyone spends the next couple of hours getting ready after Jim and Arzu brief them on what they’ve planned. No issues with the plan jump out at anyone, so they decide to go with it. Reminded by Jim that nothing usually goes according to plan, they need to be prepared to adjust as needed.

  Chris does his thing with the fireworks like before, placing them in an old jar, with plenty of holes in the lid to allow air to enter. Finally, a little past one o’clock in the afternoon, they’re as ready as they can be. Chris climbs up into the attic again and gives the inner-tube slingshot a once-over to make sure it’s ready.

  Chris gives a call on the radio, letting his dad know he’s ready for the word to light the pyrotechnics and let them fly. Jeremy stands ready downstairs, at the door to the garage, ready to hit the opener when given the word.

  Arzu has the second of the two radios in hand, ready to relay conversations and reports from Jim in Berk’s room upstairs to Jeremy below. Jim has the screen out of the window frame; the ladder lies on the floor beside him as he looks out through a small part in the blinds.

  Chapter 14

  Siberia, USSR 1974

  Vladimir exits the prisoner holding area with the rest of the guards, and the thick, heavy door is closed and locked. Carefully, the guards remove their protective gear, dispose of it in the correct bins, and wash their hands.

  They gather together to have a smoke and talk about the crazy things that the prisoners have become. Vladimir snuffs out his cigarette after only smoking half, excuses himself, and goes to the guard quarters. He feels the onset of a headache he’ll take a pain reliever to try to quell, to prevent it from worsening. One of those damn soldiers probably brought the flu with him, he thinks.

  Arriving in the quarters, he starts to feel the onset of vertigo and general malaise. Vladimir opens his locker, locates his bottle of aspirin and takes four tablets, swallowing them without the assistance of liquid. He feels a bit more chilled than normal in the damp and cold bunker, odd, since he’s just exerted himself assisting in controlling and caging the two prisoners.

  He decides he’ll lie down for a while and let the pain reliever take effect. Climbing up onto the top bunk, Vladimir feels the chill of fever worsen. He kicks off his shoes but leaves his clothes on, and pulls up his blankets to his chin. Curled in the fetal position on his right side, facing away from the entry of the guard quarters, he begins to drift off into a restless, fevered sleep.

  Vladimir now realizes his joints are also aching; he hopes after a good nap and the medication he’ll find himself feeling much improved. These will be Vladimir’s final lucid human thoughts. Down below in the laboratory, overlooking the prisoner holding area, the group is still gathered, observing the two remaining men.

  The hope of Colonel Azarov is that the surviving victim of the carnage released by the infected will not succumb to his injuries, or to the havoc released at onset of infection. Instead, he hopes it will survive infection to become the next new vector for the disease.

  The Motherland will have the power to lay waste to any opposition, leaving the infrastructure of the country intact, but causing the collapse of its system of government. Most of the enemy will either be infected, or so incapacitated that they offer little resistance. Those infected left can then be killed, and the indigenous population easily subdued.

  The only thing the colonel cannot yet determine is how to deliver this new biological weapon. He has no doubt a way will be found. “Doctor Kosktov, which of the dead prisoners was the one I saw first?” he asks.

  “The live one, in the cell on our right. That prisoner seems extremely contagious. He turned the other prisoner in hours, instead of almost a day, which was how long it took for him to succumb to the virus,” Kosktov replies, and elaborates on the theory. Colonel Azarov spends the next few hours watching both the prisoners in their cells; one already reduced to a primitive and aggressive version of its former self.

  The other prisoner is now unconscious and bleeding from his wounds: wounds that have introduced an infection that will either kill him in a few hours from the damage it will do to his brain; or, he will live, but the higher cognitive functions will be destroyed, leaving him in the same primitive and aggressive state as his attacker and former friend, and a new vector for the disease.

  “Doctor Kosktov, make sure that all samples, documents, video, and audio recordings are collected and handed over to me as soon as possible”, orders the colonel in a calm but commanding voice. Doctor Kosktov looks to Colonel Azarov, and finds his gaze being met with cold light blue eyes that leave no doubt that failing to deliver the research will be met with quick and likely deadly retribution.

  “Yes, Colonel Azarov. I will see to it personally”, he says, noticing an uncontrollable tremble of fear in his voice. The doctor has witnessed firsthand and heard even more stories of Colonel Azarov’s treatment of those he deems to be against the interest of the state.

  The doctor excuses himself to begin his task of collecting the research material.

  Doctor Kosktov leaves the colonel and several other scientists, and a smaller number of hardened, handpicked soldiers in the laboratory area to observe the last remaining prisoners. The facility guards are still in the room, but they seem to take little interest in, or don’t understand, the scientific and military implications of the events that have occurred as a result of years of work by the science divis
ion that’s been confined here for so long.

  Above, in the guards’ living quarters, Vladimir is in a restless, febrile sleep. He regains some semblance of consciousness from time to time, only awakening periodically to realize he’s lying in a bunk and feeling ill.

  After approximately six hours, the being that had been Vladimir awakens. He doesn’t comprehend the person he once was. He doesn’t know where he is, nor does he care. He feels thirst and hunger beginning to grow. His realizes his head hurts; he doesn’t have the higher level of consciousness any longer to actually know the name of any part of his anatomy, only that he has pain there.

  Throughout the underground facility, people go about different activities; some of the scientists remain, observing the prisoners locked in their cells. Other scientists and guards go to eat a meal. Most of the soldiers up on the ground level have completed securing the helicopters and unloading supplies for their stay at the facility. The men begin cooking.

  Doctors Kosktov and Levonen go about gathering all data and samples of the virus. Doctor Levonen seems almost gleeful, even with the lack of sleep. He asks Doctor Kosktov, “Are you well, sir? I thought you would be happier about the recent events.”

  Doctor Kosktov pauses and turns to his younger colleague, “I’m fine, Doctor. You’re right, I should be happier. We’ve all spent too long here in this pit.”

  Chapter 15

  Present

  “Can you hear me, honey?” Jim quietly calls out to Arzu. “I hear you,” Arzu calls back to Jim, which lets him know she’s ready.

  “Go!” Arzu hears Jim give the signal that he’s ready to make his run for the MRAP armored vehicle he parked in their driveway. She instantly calls Chris and repeats the same word. Chris, without hesitation, lights the fuse he’s altered, like before, as soon as he hears Arzu’s voice on the radio.

  Jeremy hears the same command, and tightens his grasp on the deadbolt and prepares for word to do his part. Chris gives the fuse a fraction of a second to begin its burn, and draws back on the slingshot; aiming in the direction he had the last time, and lets the projectile fly.

  “It’s out,” Chris calls over the radio. Arzu echoes the same to Jim. He stands and grips the lift cord for the blinds, ready to snatch it down to open them when the street in front is clear.

  Berk and Kayra stand next to their mother, too young to have any full understanding of the seriousness of the situation, but they do know there is stress in their mother’s body language and voice. They hear the same stress in their older brothers’ and their father’s voices as well.

  Arzu can hear the popping and cracking of the fireworks from outside. Jim hears the same noises and keeps a steady gaze outside. He watches as the infected crouch and then head in the direction of the ruckus.

  Some of the infected sprint toward the noise, some head that way in a more cautious manner, while others limp along due to either new injuries or a preexisting condition prior to their change into what they’ve become. The street in front has cleared out, but Jim can see other infected still heading in the direction of the noise, some of them on a path to take them by the family home, but the time is now.

  Jim pulls down on the cord for the blinds, releases the grip, and is lifting up, opening the bedroom window before the blinds have finished their motion. He grabs the extension ladder and feeds it out the window onto the top of the MRAP below. He’s lengthened the ladder before pushing it outside the widow to make sure it’s long enough. However, the extra length makes it difficult to maneuver easily. It seems to take much longer than it does, but Jim gets the ladder out and set quickly.

  “Ladder’s ready. Going out,” he yells. Arzu relays the information to Chris and Jeremy over the radio. Chris is already climbing down the attic ladder when he hears the call. Jeremy hears his dad, and then again hears Arzu repeat it to Chris on the radio.

  Jeremy looks up to Arzu standing on the second floor above him and says, “I’m going to try to open the garage.” Arzu ushers Berk and Kayra toward Berk’s room, where the ladder is leaning against the window and the MRAP.

  Chris is in the process of putting up the attic ladder out of the hallway when Arzu and the kids come up behind him. Chris moves against the wall, letting them pass, and then sprints to the stairs to back up Jeremy in opening the garage door by hand and, if needed, to keep infected away.

  Chris hits the first floor running. The door to the garage is directly in front of him and he can see Jeremy on one knee with his rifle up and aimed toward the direction of the rolling door. Chris is relieved to hear the garage door rolling up under its battery power. He sees Jeremy shift his eyes to him, hearing his footfalls, and then immediately back to the potential area of threat.

  Knowing Chris is joining him, Jeremy rises to both feet and, in a crouched position, moves forward a couple of feet and slides to the left to give Chris space. Chris joins his brother, and they both remain in a crouched position, with their weapons aimed at the garage door as it finishes opening.

  They see their dad jump down from the roof of the armored SWAT truck and open the driver’s door. Jim’s eyes follow the aim of his rifle as he checks inside for any infected that may have found a way in. Seeing the inside clear, he switches the ignition halfway to start position to begin warming the glow plugs.

  He points to Jeremy and signals with a hand gesture for him to come to him. Jim starts the starts the MRAP while Jeremy crawls across his lap and takes up position at the turret and opens it. “Clear,” Jeremy quietly calls down from the turret to his dad.

  “OK, tell Arzu,” Jim instructs Jeremy and begins to back the vehicle away from the garage. Jeremy signals up at Arzu where she looks out and down at them, through the upstairs window. With a nod, she turns from the window and runs, herding Berk and Kayra in front of her as she heads back down the stairs.

  Jim backs the MRAP up to the open garage door with all but a small portion on the right side of it remaining open, the passenger side of the large vehicle blocking the rest. Jim puts the vehicle in park and leaves the driver’s seat, giving Jeremy a single pat on his left thigh as he passes him on his way to the rear of the MRAP.

  As Jim reaches the rear double doors, he sees Chris from the thick armored windows, moving in a crouch toward the passenger side of the vehicle, where there’s a gap between the garage doorframe and the MRAP’s bulk. Jim swings open the doors, careful not to hit Chris with the passenger side rear door, seeing Arzu standing near the bottom of the stairs with Berk and Kayra behind her.

  Jim signals for Arzu and the kids to make their way to the MRAP. “Infected,” Jeremy yells out as he sees several infected approaching from the front and passenger side of the vehicle.

  “Where?” Jim and Chris yell back, in near unison.

  “Sorry, twelve and two o’clock; approaching our location.”

  “OK, guys, cover us,” Jim instructs, while taking Berk and Kayra from Arzu.

  Jim then grabs Arzu by the forearm and yanks her inside. “Driver’s seat, baby,” Jim tells Arzu as he follows behind and straps Berk and Kayra into the two closest seats to the cab of the MRAP.

  “It’s like a very big and very heavy SUV, hon,” Jim says to Arzu, referring to operating the large armored vehicle as he heads to the rear doors.

  Jim jumps when he hears the report of rifle shots as he is quickly walking past Jeremy’s legs, which are on an elevated platform inside the MRAP to give field of view and fire to the person in the turret.

  “Update?” he asks, and then hears more shots from Jeremy and three followed by several more outside from the direction of Chris’s position.

  “Twelve o’clock is full of them,” he hears Jeremy say with nervousness in his voice. He hears another two shots from outside and then Chris yells out, “Twelve to three has tons of them. They’re everywhere, Dad.” Jim hears the same slight tremor to Chris’ voice as well. Jim steps out and down from the MRAP’s rear doors and taps Chris on the shoulder. “I’m running in to get those suppli
es. You good, buddy?”

  “Good, Dad. I think you should hurry,” Chris answers while continually taking out infected coming toward them. Jim would prefer to have Chris inside and in the turret with Jeremy, safe. But any infected coming from behind the house and from the east side of the home could easily be missed and overrun them. Jim makes seven trips in and out of the home. On the seventh trip out, he’s gasping for air. “OK, Chris, hop inside and let’s get out of here.”

  “On my way,” Chris says and then, after ten or twenty more shots, he hops up from his stance and heads inside the MRAP. Jim follows and tells Arzu, “Pull a little forward,” as he slams the vehicle’s doors closed. He tells Jeremy to come down and close the turret.

  “Tons of infected front and left side,” Chris yells out.

  Jim looks for himself out the driver’s side rear compartment widows and sees numerous infected headed their way. “Shit.”

  “Yeah, shit here, too, Dad.” Chris says, looking out the passenger side.

  “OK, honey. Take us toward I-10 and the 99. No need to hurry, we’re good in here,” Jim says to Arzu, and she pulls away from their home.

  Chapter 16

  Present

  After making their way to the 99 and I-10 onramp, Jim notices that their pursuers have mostly given up and are now walking, and some have stopped. Not seeing any infected around their immediate area, he asks Arzu to stop, and she puts the vehicle in park, leaving it idling.

  “Everyone okay?” Jim asks.

  “I have to go poop,” Kayra says with an uncomfortable look on her face.

  “I already did in my pants,” Chris says, with nearly the same look on his face.

  “I’m not gonna be able to crap right for a week,” Jeremy offers his bowel status.

 

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