Eradication: Project Apex book II

by Michael Bray

  She complied, dropping to her knees as the men approached.

  "Were you bit? Whose blood is that?" the soldier shouted.

  She was too frightened to respond.

  "Whose blood?" the man screamed, the barrel of his weapon now inches from her face.

  "Not mine, I’m not hurt," she mumbled.

  She was pushed face first onto the ground and had her hands pulled up behind her back. She could hear the children crying but couldn’t move her head to see what was happening. She was dragged to her feet and bundled into a waiting truck filled with people, screaming as the door was locked and she was left in the dark.

  CHAPTER TWENTY- TWO

  Draven, Kate & Herman

  Pentagon Basement lab

  Washington, USA

  With Genaro’s research proving useless until Subject One was found, Draven and Kate were hunched over microscopes analysing blood samples from the two captured subjects hoping to find something to help them. Herman was playing solitaire on one of the vacant computers. All of them aware of the recent attack on New York but too numb to discuss it. The loss of life would be catastrophic. No matter what happened the world was already changed. He was aware that all of them were involved in one of the biggest events in the history of mankind. A life-changing event for the entire human race. Out of nowhere and without warning, the social structure of the world had been destroyed by one man and his warped vision for a new world. In the end, they had decided that some things were easier to ignore rather than deal with, and so they poured their energy into their work.

  Although it was wrong under the circumstances, Draven couldn’t help but be impressed by the ruthless nature of the virus.

  "The regenerative properties of this organism are incredible," Draven said without looking up from the microscope.

  "I agree. You can see why these guys can take bullet hits without bleeding out" Kate muttered, briefly looking up from her scope.

  "That’s only the start. Chemical reactions within the body of the subject are also greatly enhanced. Once administered, it sets about boosting the flaws in the human machine. Self-preservation is its aim. Like it or not, this virus is a survivor. Any damage done to the vessel - in this case the human body - is given instant attention. First, the blood clots, then the body generates adrenaline and endorphins to kill the pain. No sooner is the wound inflicted than it starts to heal and the recipient feels nothing. It really is remarkable. Did you see the difference in blood between our two captives?"

  "No," Kate said. "I've only seen the blood from our angry guy over there."

  "The differences are astounding. They are like different subspecies. When they are in the living death state, the virus is almost in hibernation. It's a transitional phase but at the same time, it's at its most infectious. The virus at that stage is aware that its vessel is damaged beyond repair and is only going to be usable for a short period of time. It focuses on preparing to move on to a new vessel. As a result, the reanimates are incredibly violent and driven to attack at all costs. That's something we might be able to use."

  "What are you thinking?" Kate asked.

  Draven looked up from his scope. "I'm not sure yet. There is something there, I just don’t see it yet. I’m just throwing ideas around, that’s all."

  "Want me to take a look?"

  "Why not? Maybe a fresh outlook will help. There are some vials over there in the fridge."

  "I'll get them," Herman said, standing and stretching. "Could do with a break. This solitaire gets intense, man."

  "Thanks, I’m sure it does," Draven said, unable to help but smile. "Samples are marked with the letter B on the vials."

  "Got it. Leave it to me." Herman said as he crossed the room.

  "So what are you thinking we can do with these samples?" Kate asked.

  "Maybe we can reverse engineer it to make the subject weaker rather than stronger. If we can do that, then we might be able to use it against them, although we would have to figure out how to create it in enough volume, then find a way to administer it, which is its own logistical nightmare. I suppose we could-"

  Draven was interrupted by the sound of breaking glass. He and Kate spun on their seats towards the noise. Herman was on the ground surrounded by blood and broken glass.

  "Are you alright?" Draven asked.

  Herman didn’t answer, instead, he held his hands out to them, showing where the glass had punctured his skin, mingling his blood with the virus infected samples.

  "Shit, Kate, get the first aid kit," Draven said, rushing to Herman and helping him to his feet.

  "Shit, shit, shit,” Herman muttered. “I tripped over my damn boot lace. I’m screwed, man, I’m really screwed."

  "Shut up a second. We need to clean you up."

  Herman and Draven went to the sink, Herman letting the cold water run onto his hands as Draven took some bandages from the first aid box. There was a deep cut on the palm of Herman’s right hand and two smaller superficial cuts near it. Draven looked at it, then at Herman.

  “It might not have gone into your bloodstream.”

  “You don’t believe that any more than I do,” Herman said. He took his hands out of the flowing water, the wound immediately starting to bleed again.

  “Keep it under the water,” Draven said. He glanced at Kate. She had acquired a biohazard mask and was pouring a white powder onto the spilled vials on the floor.

  “Just relax, keep it together. We’ll think of a way to fix this,” Draven said.

  "It's too late man, it's in my blood," Herman said, his voice high, eyes wide. "We all know I’m screwed. I’ve been listening to you talk about how quickly this thing works."

  "Maybe not, maybe we can -"

  "It's okay," Herman said, trying to smile and not able to manage it. "Just tell me how long I have before I start to change."

  Draven lowered his head, then looked at Herman. "I don’t know. It could be anything from a few minutes to a few hours. Maybe longer because you weren’t bitten. I don't know."

  Herman nodded, then looked at the two captives. "You have to put me in there with them."

  "No, we can’t do that, they'll kill you," Kate said as she joined them at the sink.

  "No, they won't," Draven said, looking Herman dead in the eye. "They won’t hurt their own kind."

  “Their own kind?” Kate said, staring at Draven. “You’re giving up on him just like that?”

  “Of course not, I don’t want to, but be realistic. There are thousands of people here in this building. We have to consider infection control.”

  “You sound so cold. Don’t you feel anything?” she asked, glaring at him

  “Look, Kate-”

  "It’s okay,” Herman cut in. “It’s for the best. You need to consider your own safety. Lock me up. I don’t want to hurt anyone."

  "There must be something we can do,” Kate said.

  Draven looked at her and shook his head. "He's right. It's safer for everyone if he's in there." He said, nodding to the holding tanks.

  "Just make sure you find a cure for this thing okay, man? That’s why they brought you, right? So you can fix it?”

  "I'll do my best," Draven said. He couldn’t think of anything more comforting or reassuring to say.

  "What a way to go, huh? Survives the end of the world, killed by a shoelace. Just my luck."

  "Hey, don’t talk like that. As soon as we get Subject One into custody, we can start to work towards something resembling a cure." Kate said.

  "Do me a favour," Herman said, looking from Kate to Draven. "If for whatever reason you don’t make it... if something happens to stop you, don’t let me turn. Don’t make me become one of those things. I couldn’t handle that."

  “Come on, don’t think like that,” Kate said.

  “No, I have to. Whilst I’m still me, I want you to promise me you’ll end it if you have to. If it gets to that point where it’s too late…. End it.”

  Draven nodded. There was nothing
else to say.

  "Okay, then I suppose you better put me in, just not with the angry one."

  The three of them walked to the second of the holding cells.

  "Alright, I’m ready," Herman whispered, keeping a close eye on the rotting, shambling thing inside. "Man, I hope it doesn’t stink in there," he muttered, trying to force another smile.

  "But what if we're wrong?" Kate said. "What if he's not infected and we put him in there with that thing?"

  "That's a good point," Draven replied. "Maybe we should wait and see if you start to change."

  "No," Herman said, pulling the release lever to open the door. “We all know I have it.”

  "Wait!" Kate said as Herman slipped inside the cell.

  "Lock it, do it now," Herman said, keeping a close eye on the shambling creature as it shuffled towards him.

  Kate didn’t respond, she could only stare open mouthed. It was Draven who reactivated the locking mechanism. The door slid closed with a pneumatic hiss. Draven and Kate watched as the dead man shuffled towards Herman, who backed into the corner.

  "I told you, it's going to attack him!" Kate said, reaching for the release lever.

  "Wait," Draven said, grabbing her wrist. "Give it a second."

  The dead man pinned Herman into the corner. He cowered away, flinching as it leaned close and sniffed him. They were all still, all silent. They watched as the dead man retreated away from Herman, paying him no attention as it continued to shuffle around the perimeter of the cell. Draven and Herman locked eyes through the glass.

  "That confirms it," Draven replied. "He's infected."

  Herman read Draven’s lips, then sat cross-legged in the centre of the cell and put his head in his hands. Kate and Draven returned to their seats. Neither acknowledged the silent sniffs as Kate cried. Draven only hoped the extraction of Subject One was on schedule and going to plan. With nothing else to do, he returned his gaze to the microscope.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Temporary United Nations refugee station

  Shahapur, India

  When word of the attacks on Mumbai first reached the leaders of the world, one of the first military operations was the securing of the city Shahapur, and protecting it from whatever force was invading. As the largest town in the Thane district and the source of most of the fresh water pumped to the city of Mumbai by its four immense dams, Shahapur was a key defensive position. The outer perimeter of the town was a living breathing barricade of soldiers and army personnel, as military vehicles from the various forces of the world combined to deflect the threat of Joshua’s growing army. A truck rumbled towards the only entrance to the city which hadn’t been barricaded. The truck rolled past the fortified checkpoint, tracked all the way by the dusty, pale green T90 tank. It truck came to a halt, triggering the waiting soldiers into action. They opened the gate at the rear and ushered the people onto the ground. Suvari was close to the rear and was one of the last to be helped from the dark of the truck into the muggy, mid-morning heat. She paused and looked around, and realised all wasn’t as it seemed. Those who had been trapped with her weren’t being assaulted or murdered as her imagination had guessed but instead given water and food. A man walked towards her, carrying a bottle of water. He had kind eyes, tanned skin, and a beard growth which looked a couple of weeks old. His shirt bore the emblem of the United Nations, and it dawned on her that rather than captured, she had just been saved.

  "Here, drink this," he said as he handed her the water. "It's hot, the last thing you want is to dehydrate."

  She didn’t argue and took the bottle gulping at it.

  "Easy," he said, grabbing her arm. "Just sip it. You'll make yourself sick."

  "Who are you?" she said, taking gentle sips from the bottle like he said.

  "My name is Anderson. How are you feeling?"

  “How do you think?” she snapped. “Nobody told me anything when they brought me here. Your people are intimidating.”

  “They have to be. It’s hard to separate the people from the others. We have to be efficient and make decisions quickly. No offence intended.”

  “Are you in charge here?”

  “Uh, kind of.”

  "Kind of?" she repeated.

  "Yeah, the commander assigned to rescue patrols was killed yesterday whilst defending a raid. I was next in the chain of command."

  "But you’re not in overall command? Who is in charge of this operation?” she said as she screwed the lid back on the bottle.

  “I don’t think that has anything to do with you, ma’am,” Anderson said.

  “My husband works for homeland security. I need to contact him.”

  Anderson averted his gaze.

  “What is it?” Suvari asked.

  “Homeland Security is gone. It was attacked a few days ago and burned to the ground. There’s nothing left.”

  Suvari felt her legs buckle. Anderson grabbed her arm. “Are you okay? Go ahead and sit down.”

  She perched on the rear of the truck. “All this time, I was hoping to make contact with him. He warned me not to come, I didn’t listen. Why didn’t I listen to him?”

  “Look,” Anderson said, as he glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the makeshift camp. “The guy we have in charge right now came from there. He might know your husband. I’ll take you to him.”

  "Thank you, I appreciate it,” she said, still numb with the idea that Marcus might well be dead. She didn’t think she could handle it, and so forced herself to be positive. “What is this place?" she asked, looking around bullet-pocked buildings which were filled with soldiers and civilians who were busy with various tasks.

  "It's a safe place. That’s all you need to know right now."

  "I don’t feel safe, no offence. I'd feel better out of the city."

  Anderson frowned. "I take it you don’t know how much shit we're in?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Wait, let me backtrack here. What do you know about what's happening?"

  "Not much. I was in the city, giving food and water to some of the poor children when everything started to happen. Fire, screams, explosions."

  "The city? Wait, you were in Mumbai?"

  She nodded. "I rescued as many of the children as I could. A man tried to help us, but..." she lowered her head. "He didn’t make it."

  "Not many people did. You're the first we've had who survived the attack on Mumbai. You're a very lucky woman."

  "I don’t feel lucky," she whispered, seeing the grotesque faces of her rapists swim into her mind’s eye. "What happened? Who has attacked the city? Why isn’t the rest of the world coming to our aid?"

  "I hate to tell you this, but as far as the order of importance goes, we're way down the list. Everything has gone to hell."

  "It always does, the government here aren’t known as the most efficient."

  "No, not just here. Everywhere."

  Suvari stared at him, not quite able to understand what he was saying but frightened all the same.

  "Look, I hate to be the one to deliver the bad news. Believe me, it already looks like you've been through hell. But I think you need to know what the situation is here. These attacks aren’t just happening here, they're happening all over the world. The White House in America has been attacked and taken over; nuclear bombs have been dropped on Paris, Berlin, Tokyo and New York. All over the world, capital cities are falling to these people. We lost contact with the government here two days ago. We can only presume they are dead or captured."

  "What about the army, surely there must be some resistance?"

  "It's spread thin. We're losing people every day. Plus with the communication satellites down, coordinating anything is proving next to impossible."

  "So what happens now?"

  “For now, we stay where we are. We have food and water. We're hoping to start extracting people by air just as soon as we have word of where to take people."

  "Are we safe here?" she asked.

  "We're do
ing our best," Anderson replied, which was hardly an encouraging answer. "For now, we're doing okay. We repelled three raids in as many days. These invaders want in so they can control the water supply, which is the very reason we're doing everything we can to keep them out."

  "Can I ask you a question," Suvari said, still avoiding eye contact.

  "Of course."

  "When the soldiers brought me here, they asked me if I was bitten."

  "Don’t worry about that," Anderson said.

  "And then in Mumbai, I saw a man, a dead man who got up again when it should have been impossible."

  Anderson looked away from her, watching a team of soldiers unload medical supplies from a truck and move them to a building. "It's true," he said, looking at her. "The dead are...coming back."

  "You mean like..."

  Zombies.

  She couldn’t bring herself to say it, even though she could think of no better description.

  "Zombies. You can say it," he added with a wry smile which was a whisker away from a grimace. “Crazy I know, but that’s what we’re dealing with.”

  "How can it be?"

  "It’s this virus. Whatever it is, it’s so powerful that it's not allowing the dead to stay that way."

  "Can't it be stopped?"

  "We have to hope it can be," Anderson sighed.

  "You don't sound convinced."

  “We’re in the dark here. Improvising day to day until we hear from someone higher up the chain. You know, we could use someone like you around here. The way you helped those kids and got out of the city alive shows you have some tenacity. We can use that."

  "I’m no soldier," she said, unscrewing the water bottle and taking another sip.

  "I didn’t mean to fight, we have plenty of people for that. What I need you for is to help with the civilians and the children. Not just the ones you rescued, but the others too, the ones who were already here."

  "You mean you want me to distract them, to keep their minds away from how hopeless it is here?"

  “Not at all. We could use someone who knows what they’re doing, that’s all.”

  "I’ll do it, of course. That's why I came back to this country, to help people. I'll do whatever I can. I just want to know what here is. This is a lot to take in."