The group in the elevator watched the soldiers with apprehension.
Trent stepped out of the restroom and staggered out into the middle of the hallway. Pleasant surprise washed over his sweaty face. He ran towards the elevator, smiling almost hysterically.
“Contact!” Patrick screamed, pointing his weapon at Trent.
Lloyd hesitantly followed his lead, finger shaking on the trigger.
They opened fire.
Trent jerked backwards and spiraled down against the floor as the bullets eviscerated his chest.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” Gus cried, reaching for his sidearm. The other two sick MPs inside the elevator with Gus froze in shock. “We–”
“Open fire,” Cpl. Andrews ordered.
The white-suits opened fire into the elevator with no prejudice, sweeping their rifles side-to-side, clasping them tightly against their bulky hazmat suits.
The crowd in the elevator let out their last blood curdling cries as they danced to the tune of the M16s.
“Hold fire,” Cpl. Andrews said, “check your targets.”
The white-suits stopped firing and reloaded.
A bloody cluster of bullet-riddled bodies lay motionless in the middle of the elevator. Gus never managed to even clear the pistol out of his holster.
The white-suits stared in horror at their work as they breathed heavily through their respirators, adrenaline pumping through their system.
Lloyd’s facemask fogged and his hands trembled. The duffle weighed down his shoulder and felt like it was growing heavier by the second. He didn’t turn to look at the elevator massacre. Behind him, he heard double-shots being administered to the corpses, exactly as ordered. The sound alone was almost too much for him to handle. Those people weren’t enemies, but were just unfortunate people caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Good job. Alright, team… move up,” Cpl. Andrews finally said.
The six white-suits advanced towards the laboratory doors, kicking open office doors to check and clear rooms as they made their descent down the hall.
Lloyd kicked open a door that was labeled ‘Vending’.
Inside of the room, a MP was slouched against a Pepsi machine, holding a sub-machine gun with trembling hands. His face was pale and his uniform was soaked with sweat. A blue ‘MP’ band was wrapped around his right arm. He coughed violently and almost collapsed to the floor as he attempted to raise his weapon.
“Stop! Drop your weapon!” Lloyd ordered.
The ill MP ignored him and pointed the weapon shakily at–
Patrick stepped next to Lloyd and opened fire.
The MP flung against the Pepsi machine as the bullets tore through him. He dropped the gun and sunk to the floor.
Patrick reloaded.
“T-thanks,” Lloyd stammered.
Patrick nodded and took position back outside in the hall.
“You need to stay focused and don’t hesitate on taking one of them down,” Cpl. Andrews said. “These people are infected and this whole area is crawling with the virus. If your suit gets punctured, or you get shot, you’re staying down here with them. This virus must reach the surface. A slight hesitation could cost all of us our lives. Do all of you understand what is at stake here?”
“Yes, sir,” the white-suited soldiers replied.
“Do you understand, Godson?” Cpl. Andrews asked with a sharp tone.
“Yes, sir,” Lloyd answered.
“I better not see that hesitation again from any of you,” Cpl. Andrews said, “now move up.”
The group made their way to the steel laboratory doors at the end of the hallway.
The outer-doors had the international biohazard symbol on them.
Cpl. Andrews held up a closed fist and then twirled his index finger in the air; the soldiers quickly stacked-up around the laboratory entrance.
“The outer is still sealed. Breech it,” Cpl. Andrews said.
Lloyd moved to the center of the large double-doors and retrieved a small cutting torch out of the duffle slung over his shoulder. He lit the torch and ran the flame down the center of the doors, slicing through the locking mechanisms. Sparks flew and ricocheted off of the floor as the flame reached the bottom.
The doors flew open and the depressurized lab moaned as it desperately and greedily sucked in air from the hallway.
“Danger, laboratory integrity compromised. Outer-door breached. Pressurized containment countermeasure system failure,” the pleasant female voice announced overhead.
The group advanced to the second set of double-doors which were jammed open half-way by a corpse lying on the floor. The corpse was wearing a blood-stained white hazmat-suit and was pinched between two steel doors.
“Pry them open,” Cpl. Andrews ordered.
Lloyd and Patrick grabbed hold of the doors and pried them apart. The doors gave a groan of disapproval and slid open.
The group of white-suited soldiers stepped back and stared at the corpse on the floor. The lower extremities of the corpse were badly mangled, bit, and scratched. The bloodied protective suit had been torn to shreds.
“W-what the fuck happened to his legs?” Patrick asked, voice shaking through his respirator.
The question hung in the air and nobody answered.
“Compose yourself, soldier,” Cpl. Andrews said. He pointed his rifle at the back of the corpse’s head and fired twice. He pushed the corpse off of the doorway track and slid it inside the laboratory with his boot, leaving bloody streaks across the floor.
The group entered the newly opened tomb in stunned silence.
Blood was splattered all over the interior of the lab and even on portions of the ceiling. One of the fluorescent lights had been pulled from its housing and hung by a two sparking wires. The lighting inside the entire lab was dim and flickered. Broken equipment, scattered papers, and toppled equipment littered the lab. Glass shards covered the once meticulously clean floor like tiny pebbles.
A large metallic table had been overturned and recklessly shoved through a glass-door refrigeration unit. The shelving inside the refrigerator had collapsed and petri dishes and glass beakers had spilt out into the lab.
Blood-smeared handprints ran along the rear wall and the counter, making their way toward a set of swinging steel double doors in the corner of the room.
A splash of sparks flew from the dangling fluorescent light and caused the other lights in the room to flicker as they struggled to continue their duty.
Lloyd was terrified.
“Advance,” Cpl. Andrews ordered quietly, “keep your weapons in the ready position.”
The group moved carefully and scanned the room nervously with their rifles as they marched in single-line formation.
The lights flickered.
Glass shattered in the distance.
The soldiers fired blindly towards the direction of the sound and littered the floor with spent shells.
“Hold fire! Check your target!” Cpl. Andrews yelled.
The soldiers stopped firing and breathed frantically through their respirators.
“I don’t have a visual,” one of the white-suits said. He tried to sound calm but failed horribly.
“No target,” another soldier said.
The light fixture dangling from the ceiling threw another shower of sparks and the other lights flickered weakly in response.
“Advance,” Cpl. Andrews ordered shakily.
The group took four steps when the double-doors quickly slid shut behind them.
The white-suits spun around and blindly opened fire towards the doors, sending shells jittering at their feet again.
They stopped firing when they realized that they were firing at nothing but two steel doors. The doors were stenciled with ‘ALL PERSONAL MUST DECONTAMINATE’ and had a bloody handprint smeared down the Department of Defense seal in the center.
“Obstruction cleared from inner-door. Danger, a critical sallyport failure is still being detected. Biol
ogical containment has been compromised. Quarantine protocols are in effect,” the ever pleasant female voice announced from the ceiling speakers.
“Advance,” Cpl. Andrews muttered. “Damnit, stay calm and let’s clear out the rear rooms of the lab.”
The white-suits turned towards the doors in the corner of the lab, weapons ready. They made their way across the lab as the glass shards crackled under their boots. The dangling light fixture sparked again.
The lights flickered weakly and began to strobe.
“Steady!” Cpl. Andrews yelled. “Stay calm, Damnit, stay calm!”
The swinging doors in the corner of the lab flung open.
All six soldiers startled as Dr. Raymond stumbled into the room wearing a bloodied white-suit with no facemask and no respirator. His lips were fastened in a scowl, showing his blood-stained teeth. Dry blood and chunks of gore covered his chest and was smeared across his face. Multiple lacerations had disfigured the left side of his face and his left ear was missing.
Dr. Raymond let out a feral snarl and started sprinting towards the soldiers.
“Fuck! Contact! Take him down!” Cpl. Andrews screamed.
The hanging fluorescent light threw one last pathetic shower of sparks and all of the overhead lights flickered out.
Darkness swallowed the entire laboratory.
All six soldiers fired wildly into the dark, towards the direction of Dr. Raymond. Shells jittered at their feet and the dark room lit in an orange strobe from the M16’s muzzle-flash. The gun smoke completely clouded the orange strobe cast from the rifles, reducing their–
“Hold fire! Hold fire! Check for a target!” Cpl. Andrews shouted.
Multiple empty clips fell against the floor and the soldiers breathed frantically.
“Did we get him?” one of the white-suited soldiers shakily asked.
“Shh!” hissed two other soldiers.
A shard of glass crunched under a boot.
The soldiers aimlessly pointed their M16s in the dark, towards the noise.
Another crunchy footstep echoed in the still lab.
Above, an electrical hum resonated in the ceiling.
“Electrical grid failure detected, rerouting to emergency power. A repair team and security have been notified. Stand-by for power grid re-route,” the pleasant female voice announced.
Air started gently flowing through the vents and rustled the scattered papers on the floor. The overhead lights slowly brightened back to life and revealed the bloodied Dr. Raymond standing behind the unaware Cpl. Andrews.
Dr. Raymond had been struck by multiple shots, but he didn’t seem to notice. His clouded eyes were focused directly at the side of Cpl. Andrews’ turned head. He gave a guttural growl, grabbing Cpl. Andrews’ attention.
Cpl. Andrews startled and quickly turned towards the doctor.
“Ah, fuck–!” Cpl. Andrews screamed as he raised his M16.
Dr. Raymond quickly leapt onto him.
Cpl. Andrews shot a wild burst of gunfire as he tumbled backwards to the floor, shooting one of the overhead ceiling lights in the process.
Dr. Raymond straddled him and knocked the M16 aside with his forearm just as Cpl. Andrews gave the trigger another squeeze.
Patrick went flying backwards, screaming, as the automatic gunfire tore up along the center of his chest and shattered his facemask. He collapsed onto his back, twitching.
Dr. Raymond vomited on Cpl. Andrews’ facemask, but the bile simply beaded-up and rolled off of the clear plastic. Undeterred, he leaned closer and ripped a large tare in the side of the white-suit with his teeth. He spat the piece out and sunk his teeth into the side of Cpl. Andrews’ exposed neck.
Cpl. Andrews screamed and withered in excruciating pain, struggling to get free.
The white-suited soldiers opened relentless fire on Dr. Raymond, but the doctor didn’t respond to the multiple rounds striking his body.
The doctor jerked his head away, holding a large chunk of flesh between his teeth. Cpl. Andrews screamed as blood poured out from his gaping wound.
The soldiers continued fearfully firing, riddling Dr. Raymond with fresh wounds.
The doctor started to lean down again–
One of bullets struck the side of Dr. Raymond’s head and erupted out the opposite side. He jolted and then collapsed on top of Cpl. Andrews, motionless.
Cpl. Andrews rolled the corpse off of him and scurried to his feet, covered with the doctor’s coagulated blood. He pressed his palm tightly against the wound on his neck and grimaced with pain.
The white-suited soldiers trembled as they stared at the bullet-riddled corpse of Dr. Raymond. Then they turned and looked at their fallen brethren, Patrick, who had stopped convulsing and now lay motionless in a pool of blood courtesy of their wounded leader.
“That… he bit me. He fucking bit me,” Cpl. Andrews finally said, keeping a hand over his wound, still in disbelief and shock. He reached into one of the cargo pockets on his white-suit, pulled out a gauze bandage, and affixed it to the bite on his neck.
Cpl. Andrews walked over to Dr. Raymond’s corpse and fired six times into what remained of its head.
Cpl. Andrews turned towards Patrick, aimed, briefly hesitated, and then fired two rounds at his forehead.
The rounds punched through the facemask and sunk into Patrick’s head, making his head lull inside its protective suit.
Lloyd’s heart was racing and fear had tied his stomach into knots. He knew that Andrews was right earlier. Whatever the virus was, he could not allow it to reach the surface.
“Advance,” Cpl. Andrews ordered.
The five remaining white-suited soldiers made their way through the swinging doors in the corner of the lab, weapons ready
Four doors ran along the side of the hallway and one door sat at the far end. Bloody smears covered the hall along both sides. Another doctor inside a white-suit laid face-up in the middle of the hall in a pool of old blood. Bite marks riddled both arms of the white-suit.
“What the fuck,” Lloyd muttered quietly.
The doctor’s head jolted up from the floor and his clouded blue eyes glared at the group of soldiers though the white-suit’s blood-speckled facemask.
“Contact! Contact!” Lloyd shouted.
The doctor abruptly sat up, snarling.
Lloyd fired a burst of automatic gunfire along the center of the doctor’s chest up through the center of the suit’s faceshield. The plastic faceshield shattered and clouded with blood as the doctor fell back onto the floor with a meaty smack, arms flung up over his head.
One of the doors along the side of the hall flung open hard against the wall–
The soldiers quickly aimed at the door.
Another white-suit with a shattered faceshield darted out into the hall and looked around wildly, hunched over. Like the others, his suit was caked with blood. He looked towards the soldiers and his eyes suddenly became focused. His lower lip was missing and looked gnawed off.
Lloyd let out an unintentional terrified gasp.
“Contact!” Lloyd shouted.
All five soldiers opened fire.
The white-suit gave a feral cry and ran towards the soldiers, not impeded by the gunfire ripping through his chest. He shoved Lloyd backwards.
Lloyd fell onto his back and his M16 slid across the hallway.
The white-suit pinned Lloyd down and vomited on his face.
Vomit beaded on Lloyd’s facemask and rolled down the sides.
Lloyd brought his knees up against the man's stomach and pushed–
The white-suit flung backwards in the center of the hall.
Lloyd quickly got back on his feet and wiped the gore off of his facemask with a gloved hand.
Undeterred, the white-suit snarled and stood–
Cpl. Andrews aimed at the white-suit's head and fired.
The man’s head shattered like a rotten pumpkin inside the white hazmat-suit. He collapsed backwards, his face a gory mash of pulp and bone.
Cpl. Andrews picked up Lloyd's M16 and handed it back to him.
Lloyd straightened up. His face was pale underneath his blood streaked facemask. He took the M16 with trembling hands.
“Let’s sweep the remaining rooms, plant the charges, and get the fuck out of here,” Cpl. Andrews said quietly, holding his wounded neck. “Move up!”
The soldiers split off into the small four rooms.
Lloyd approached the door at the far end of the hall cautiously, weapon ready. He reached for the silver doorknob slowly and tried to open it.
The door was locked from the inside.
Lloyd knocked on the door.
Nobody answer.
“Open up. Search and rescue,” Lloyd yelled.
There was no reply.
Lloyd fired a burst of gunfire at the knob. The knob housing fell to the floor with a rattle. He slammed against the door and it swung open into the room, knocking over the tall computer server that had been propped against it.
The computer room was small and very cold. Tall stacks of triple-redundant Novell servers were lined up along the back of the room while smaller towers and routers were neatly arranged down the center. Air conditioning vents were installed in both the floor and ceiling; all of them were churned out bitter cold air.
A white-suit was face-down in the center of the room. Unlike the other ones, it wasn’t bloodied and didn’t look compromised.
Lloyd’s mind went back to how the door was locked and barricaded. This one managed to bunker itself in, he thought. Still, he didn’t take any chances. He knew what his orders were and he didn’t want to get infected. He aimed at the white-suit and stepped closer, weapon trembling.
“Hello?” Lloyd asked as he approached.
He stood above the face-down white-suit, weapon aimed at the back of the head. Hesitantly, he kicked the side of the white-suit with his boot.
The white-suit didn’t move.
Lloyd kicked it again, harder, but the white-suit still didn’t move. Taking a deep breath, he rolled the white-suit over onto its back.
Beneath the white-suit’s facemask, the man’s eyes were rolled-up in their sockets and his skin was pulled tightly against his face. His skin was ashy and his lips were blue.
Degeneration Page 2
