Blood Type Infected (Book 4): Betrayal of Hope

by Marchon, Matthew

  “If they do, we’re outta here, with or without the scientists.”

  I lead us past the hallway our fearless foursome came from. It doesn’t go far, maybe forty feet. There’s a couple doors but they’re both open, definitely no one hiding in there. And this is why I’m in the lead, if it were Norwood, we’d be running down there ringing the dinner bell just looking for something to decapitate.

  We’re taking too long as it is. I don’t know how much time they need to get the chopper going but I’m hoping it isn’t long because World War Z is making its way up the mountainside a lot quicker than any of us would like.

  The narrow hallway opens into a giant chamber, dropping us off on a catwalk. Yep, this is what I remember the inside of a dam looking like, except on the field trip, we were down there. I don’t think the tours take kids three stories up where they can drop their precious phones, or themselves, into the turbines and generator looking things below. This must be some sort of maintenance platform.

  Okay, maybe it was just them we heard. That might have been the growling, it only sounded loud because of the cathedral acoustics in here. There must be fifty of them, jumping up and down like this is a rave without the music, reaching for us, blatantly disregarding the safety signs, climbing the machinery in an attempt to get closer to us. They are going to have to form one mighty Megazord to get this high.

  I didn’t think I was scared of heights but apparently that’s only because I’d never been on a rickety, steel grate bridge, overlooking a bunch of overheating turbine shafts that look dangerously close to exploding, with a herd of desperately hungry, man eating monsters below me.

  Turns out, heights aren’t exactly my favorite thing in the world. Also not a fan of those red blinking lights and the buzzing alarm bursts coming from them. I’m no safety inspector but you just know it can’t mean anything good.

  What the hell are those black dots on the catwalk? Are they moving? Shadows from the red alarm lights? Whatever they are, they’re coming towards us, and fast. They look almost like…

  “Rats!”

  Now I know for a fact I am not scared of rats, I actually find them to be quite adorable, though the ones with red eyes do creep me out a little. It’s not the fact that a small carpet of rodents is approaching us at breakneck speed that has me concerned. What I don’t like is the fact that they’re running towards us and not from us. And they’re showing no signs of stopping. Why do they look so mangey, and… bloody?

  “They’re infected!”

  I jump, spreading my legs and catching myself with one foot on each side of the catwalk. My heart damn near gets caught in my throat when I remember how high we are. I do not feel safe. This is not okay. As the safety inspector in this facility I cannot condone standing on the railings. Oh lovely, now my knees are quivering, this is not a good time to be balancing on wobbly feet.

  The first rat leaps a solid two feet, its little jaws wide open. This fucker is attacking me. And if I didn’t jump when I did, he’d be hanging from my nutsack by his teeth right now. I’d be the next Uncle Clyde.

  The walkway sways when Felecia and Norwood follow my lead and jump onto the middle railing. These things better not jump any higher because there’s only one more railing, and that’d be the top one. I don’t particularly want to be up there. Hell, I don’t want to be on this one.

  Infected rats! Seriously? Well I guess this answers the question whether or not animals can be infected. And I’m not exactly thrilled with the answer.

  Did they get turned by other rats or did a human zombie bite them like ankle bracelet girl back at the lake? Not important right now.

  I jump down from my perch, feeling bones crunch beneath my feet. Their bodies being smooshed under my weight sends an unpleasant tingle up my spine. I was definitely not meant to be a serial killer. I’m sickened by the fact that I’m ending a living creature’s life, squeezing its guts through the holes in the steel grating. I know they’re not alive anymore, I can see the bite marks that killed them, but I’m having trouble telling my brain they’re not cute little defenseless fur munchkins.

  They’re trying to gnaw through my boots and if I didn’t bring my foot down on another small cluster, they probably would have succeeded. I can feel Felecia and Norwood behind me, doing the same, because with every panicked stomp, the bridge wobbles a bit more. Yep, screw the rats, time to get our feet on solid ground before something bad happens.

  I quicken my pace, gliding as gingerly as possible over the steel bars, trying my best not to anger them. I wonder how much weight this suspended platform is designed for. I wouldn’t imagine too much, we’re dangling from the ceiling via little cables.

  My feet hit cement on the other side of the bridge from hell and it takes all my willpower not to drop down and make out with it. I probably would if I wasn’t thinking about the gruesome underside of my boots right now, spattered with blood and intestines, bone fragments, little clumps of filthy fur.

  “This is just perfect,” Felecia squeaks between exasperated breaths. “We’ve got zombie rats. These scientists so better be worth it. Which way do we go?”

  There’s a long, dark corridor in front of us, lit up by dim lights that cast an orange glow through the confined tunnel. I think we’ll avoid that way, I bet it spans the entire width of the dam. To the left is a short hallway with a window at the end, looking out over the valley below. A few closed doors. Promising. If I were a scientist, where would I hide?

  “What the fuck was that?” Felecia grabs my arm, her fingers digging into my skin like she’s trying to grind my bones to dust. How is she grabbing both arms at once? Oh, nope, the other one’s Norwood.

  “Sorry dude, I’m a little on edge. I just squished a bunch of zombie rats and that platform was not nearly as stable as I’d like it to be. I say we go that way, the noises coming from this hallway make me wanna pee my pants. And I think the girls have done enough of that for all of us. Owww,” he shrieks, in response to Felecia smacking his arm.

  I don’t feel bad, he knew he had it coming, which is the only reason I didn’t laugh at his pee pee joke.

  “Owww, what did I do?”

  “I saw that smirk,” she growls, smacking my arm a second time. “You thought about laughing. I second Jackass’s idea, let’s go that way. Maybe just, close this door while we’re at it. If our science geeks are down there, they’ll knock on– Bear! Bear! Bear!”

  Is she saying bear, like–

  Holy shit that’s a fucking bear!

  I grab the handle and help her slam it shut as if she actually needs my help. I don’t think it’s possible to slam a door any harder than she already is. Oh this is just what we need. It’s got a window! We’re in a dam, who the hell needs a window on a door inside of a dam?

  Felecia pops in the little circle lock on the handle, looking at me with skeptically wide eyes.

  “Yeah, I don’t see it holding either.” I take her hand and step back, bumping into Norwood. “I think we figured out what the noise was.”

  It slams into the door full force, like a battering ram you’d use to breach the palace walls. Its snarling snout presses against the tiny window, which, on the bright side, is way too small for him to fit through. But I think one swipe of his giant Grizzly paw and the entire door handle is coming off, lock and all.

  It’s infected.

  Its entire ear is missing, they chewed off half its freakin’ face. No way is that thing alive. They brought down a Grizzly bear the size of a small planet. This is why they kicked Pluto out of our solar system, so they could add this beast.

  “Go,” Norwood shouts over the growling and banging. “Find those fuckers. I’ll hold him off.”

  “With what?” I shout back. “The superhuman strength you’ve been holding out on us?”

  “I’ll find a pole or something to wedge in the handle. Part of the piping down the hall. I don’t know. Just go! Find them!”

  We turn and haul ass towards the window to the outsi
de world, banging on every door we pass.

  “Is there anyone in here? We gotta go! Now! Hurry. If you can hear me, we gotta go! Get out, get out!”

  “Noah,” Norwood screams from the four-way intersection of death, pipes in his hands that look suspiciously like they were ripped off a wall while still in use, which would explain the sudden influx of white smoke. “They’re coming from this shaft, I can hear them. There’s a door but I can’t close it, I think it needs a key. We gotta get outta here. This thing’s not gonna hold.”

  “No one down here,” Felecia calls from an open doorway. “These three are all unlocked. Empty. If they’re down that way, with the bear…”

  The door opens before my hand hits the handle.

  CHAPTER 35

  Through the tiniest crack between the frame and the door, I can see a face peering out at me, something shiny reflecting in his hand. Is he aiming a gun at me? We really don’t have time for this.

  “Guys, it’s people!” the voice shouts, throwing the door open so enthusiastically you’d think we were his mail order bride. Did he just drop a stapler? He did, that’s a stapler he held up to the door. “They’re soldiers! With swords! We’re saved!”

  “Not yet you aren’t, hurry, we gotta get the hell out of here,” I say, shifting my gaze to Norwood and the metal bars he’s trying to wedge through the door handle. “We’ve got an angry Grizzly and a hallway full of infects coming this way. There’s five of you?”

  “Yes, they told us to wait right here, so we did, but it’s been days. We started tying our jackets together to drop them out the window but we’re still about ffiteen feet shy.”

  “Forget the jackets, time to go. We got a helicopter waiting outside. Hurry! Everyone out, now!”

  “Right,” he says, pushing his glasses further up his nose like a cartoon nerd. “Should we bring our papers and samples?”

  “Can you get them quickly? They sound important. Yes, grab them and run. Go go go!”

  “Noah, is that you?”

  “Mrs. Abbot?” Well I’ll be damned, she was right.

  “Do we know her?” Felecia asks, her antsy legs shaking uncontrollably.

  “This is Kristen’s mom.”

  “Oh. Ohhh, Kristen’s mom,” she says, stopping her legs momentarily. “Our Kristen? Holy shit, she was right. Good thing we didn’t let her search the lab.”

  “Kristen’s alive?” her mother asks, throwing her hands up to cover her mouth. “Oh thank god. She’s alive. She’s here?”

  “She’s out there loading up the chopper. We don’t have long. Get what you need, hurry, they’re waiting for us.”

  “Oh my god, I can’t believe it. I didn’t think we’d ever make it out of here alive,” she cries, grabbing a briefcase. “I don’t understand. What’s going on? Why are you here?”

  “Everyone’s dead, North America’s gone, we’re heading to Europe. They’ve got some military aircraft waiting for us on the Arizona border.”

  “America’s… gone?”

  “They’re evacuating the last survivors out of the east coast. It’s spread throughout the continent and into Asia.”

  “Dear god, what have I done?” she mumbles to herself, her eyes glistening in a state of shock.

  “What do you mean, what have you done?” Felecia asks, finally stepping into what appears to be some sort of conference room, her leg bopping so fast she might drill a hold in the floor if she stands there too long.

  “We never meant… It wasn’t designed for this… It was just, it was supposed to cure addiction… Jeremy… It wasn’t ready.”

  “You created this?” I ask as calmly as humanly possible, given the circumstances.

  “No, I mean yes, we did, but not for this. It wasn’t ready, it’s nowhere near ready. We’re still in the early stages. It wasn’t meant for human consumption yet. This is just preliminary work. He took it. My god, this is all my fault. I didn’t want to believe he did it but he did, it was him.” She falls against a filing cabinet, too distraught to stand.

  “Mrs. Abbot, what is it? Is there a cure?” I squat down beside her, needing to get to the bottom of this a lot quicker than she’s willing to lead us there. “Can this be stopped? Because the government thinks you have answers they need.”

  “I don’t, I don’t know. It’s highly volatile at this point in the process. It wasn’t meant for this.”

  “Then what the fuck was it meant for?” Felecia shouts, helping me hoist Kristen’s mother to her feet.

  “Addiction,” she says slowly, her blank stare meeting my intent gaze as if I’m the one who yelled at her. “It was meant to cure addiction. Addicts will always be addicted to something, it’s in their DNA. So rather than try to eliminate it all together, we realized we had to get them addicted to something harmless, something they always had, something that was a part of them, so that the addiction was focused inward.”

  “Blood.” I whisper, watching the dots connect in my head as if they’re physically there.

  “It was meant to be their own blood, not the blood of others. We were testing it on mice but they all essentially turned into vampires.”

  “Vampires?” Felecia squeals. “Vampires? That’s funny because I don’t see any Edwards out there, just a bunch of fucking zombies!”

  “We had to infect the mice first, with an addiction, in order to cure it. The samples that went missing, they were meant to create addicts. The mice kept viciously attacking each other, and us, it was too much for them to handle. It made their brains shut down, all they could focus on was their addiction. It controlled them, not just their brains, their bodies. It became all consuming.”

  “Ya think?” Felecia snaps.

  “We had no idea what it would do to humans, we were never meant to find out, we’re nowhere near trial studies. It shouldn’t have even been used in animal testing, it was too early. We were losing too many specimens, the mice, they kept having to be put down but they just wouldn’t die. The addiction mixed with the cure, it spawned results similar to LSD and bath salts with heightened… I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “It’s already happened. Is there a cure?” I ask sternly, holding her by her deflated shoulders. “Why does saltwater stop the infection?”

  “Saltwater?” she repeats, slowly, like she’s in a trance. “You mean, saline? It was a technique we implemented a week or so ago, to cancel the effects of the addiction disease. We weren’t ready to begin testing on animals but they forced us, I used saline to inject the mice. As long as I got the saline into their systems before the disease, it counteracted the addictive tendencies. I didn’t feel right, sacrificing so many mice for something that wasn’t anywhere near ready to be tested.”

  “What happened to the mice you gave the saline to?” Felecia asks coldly, forcing Mrs. Abbot to look at her as the roomful of scientists scurry about. “Because we’re those mice. We have it.”

  “You’re infected?” she murmurs, swaying on wobbly legs. “We’d only been studying them for a short while. They seemed normal for all intents and purposes but I don’t know, it was too early to say for certain. The only real side effect, if you can call it that, is, well, they weren’t, exactly…”

  “What?” Felecia shouts, slamming her hand against the filing cabinet, startling everyone in the room as they gather around the door, presumably with all of their belongings. “They weren’t exactly what?”

  “Alive.”

  “Alive?” I repeat, lost. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Their vitals displayed as dead, only, well, they weren’t. They were very much alive.”

  “That’s why we started calling them the vampire vermin,” the man who first opened the door says with a smile, as if this is the least bit amusing. “It’s really quite fascinating. We had a running joke that they wouldn’t have reflections but they’d never know because mice don’t have mirrors,” he says with a chuckle that ends in a strong throat clearing when he realizes we aren’t
laughing. “Apparently you had to be there.”

  “Back up the truck Sheldon,” Felecia yells, extending a finger to quiet him. “Are you telling me I’m dead?”

  “No,” he laughs. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re clearly alive as alive can be, but technically, yes, you’re essentially a living, breathing corpse with a heartbeat.”

  “What the fuck does that even mean?” she shrieks, stomping her feet in a mini temper tantrum.

  “To be perfectly honest,” comes another voice in the room, a woman, “we have no idea. This is all uncharted territory. Quite frankly, we are as baffled by the results as you are.”

  “You’re baffled?” Felecia snorts in a violent exhale. “We’re dead, technically,” she adds in air quotes, “and you’re as baffled as we are? You just told me I’m a vampire zombie.”

  “Actually, we said vampire, you said zom– Not important,” Sheldon interrupts himself, taking a step back when he sees the daggers Felecia is sending his way.

  “If it’s so experimental,” she continues, aiming her venomous words at all of them, “then why the fuck does half the world have it?”

  “Kristen’s brother,” Mrs. Abbot pipes up, timidly, and rightfully so, Felecia might throw any one of them from the open window at any second. “Jeremy, he’s been staying with me, here, in Sonny Valley. Kristen, my husband, they don’t know. They gave up on him but I’m his mother. He’s still in there. I swear to you, he is, I saw it, he was so desperate to kick his addiction. It really is a disease, it is. I didn’t mean to but, I let it slip. I told him what I was working on. He must have stolen my keys. He broke into the lab. By the time I got there, it was too late, he was gone, and so were the samples from that day.”

  “Monday night,” I say, not needing her to continue. He stole the samples and injected them. Jeremy was the frequent flyer Dr Hopkins mentioned. He was patient zero. Kristen’s brother, in a desperate attempt to rid himself of the so called disease, infected himself with something far more lethal than any addiction mankind has ever experienced.