Degeneration

by Mark Campbell

  “It doesn’t matter if he is infected,” Patricia said. “He can’t infect us as long as he keeps his suit on. He has enough oxygen to make it to the lake and then we can let Yates make the call.”

  “I’m not infected,” Mathis said matter-of-factly. “But Yates won’t care.”

  “Well,” said Greg, “you just keep that hazmat suit on and we won’t have any problems, okay chief?” He propped up his rifle, staring at Mathis.

  “You’re followed outdated orders,” Mathis said, “If you want to actually make a difference and get out of this alive at the same time, contact someone on the outside – away from North Carolina. That way, we can all negotiate our own safe passage without Yates.”

  “Shut up, Colonel,” Greg said, “I have friends I left behind at Falls Lake. I’m not going anywhere unless we all get out safely.”

  “Bombers coming in!” the pilot shouted, interrupting, “This is it! They’re making their run!”

  A squadron of low-flying bombers passed underneath the helicopter and made it rumble with turbulence.

  In the next instant there was a series of explosions, a sudden whoosh that reverberated through the air, and suddenly a sea of fire washed Raleigh in liquid flames.

  The soldiers all huddled at the helicopter’s side window, staring down below at the burning liquid that flowed along the city streets.

  “Well, there goes Raleigh,” Trish said without emotion, shaking her head.

  “Damnit man,” another solider muttered. “Do you think that finally did the trick? Did that get them all?”

  “I hope so,” Patricia whispered.

  “The pyrotechnics display certainly blew their flu cover story. Every country with a satellite saw their little light show,” Greg said.

  “I guess things are… getting desperate,” Mathis muttered to himself flatly, shocked yet not surprised. “They… just don’t care anymore, do they?”

  Richard started to slap himself in the forehead.

  “No!” Richard hissed to himself. “Not yet!”

  The soldiers looked over at Richard.

  “He worries me,” Greg said, pointing at Richard.

  Richard’s hand continued to twitch in his lap as he stared absently ahead, lost in some deep thought.

  “Something… something isn’t right about him,” Greg continued. “I think he’s infected.”

  “He’s immune, you idiot,” Mathis said monotonically, sighing.

  “And how do you know he’s clean?” Greg countered, face pale. “Look at him… Look at how he acts. You’re brass, not a doctor! If he is infected, we’ve been breathing the same air as him… so we’ve got it too.”

  Patricia stared at Greg, horrified.

  “Look, you need to calm down,” another soldier, Reggie, said.

  “I am calm, Reggie!” Greg said, reaching for his pocket. “I just think that we should take some… precautions.”

  Greg pulled out three vials wrapped in red CDC shrink-wrap.

  Patricia’s eyes grew wide.

  “You managed to buy some?! From whom?” she asked.

  “Some radio geek got some from the CDC caravan that was headed into Butner,” Greg said. “I could only buy three and don’t have enough for everybody, so I didn’t want to bust them out unless absolutely necessary. And this shit,” he pointed at the jittery Richard, “just made it necessary in my book.”

  “What is…?” Mathis started to ask, flabbergasted, “Oh, you got to be fucking kidding me… Didn’t you hear the reports about the CDC vaccine trails?”

  “Shut up and mind your own business,” Greg snapped.

  “I looked everywhere… I couldn’t buy a vial anywhere,” Patricia continued, tuning out Mathis.

  “Wait…” Reggie said, “If you only have three then that leaves two of us without.”

  Greg rolled his eyes.

  “Yeah, I know, that’s why I didn’t want to pull them out in front of everybody,” Greg explained again.

  “Dude, Greg; you have to hook me up,” the fourth soldier, Matthew, said.

  “I saw what happens first hand! You’re going to–”

  “Shut the fuck up, Colonel!” Greg shouted. “You’re not getting one, anyway! You’re not infected, right!? So shut the fuck up and sit in your little pussy spacesuit.”

  “Give me one,” Patricia said, holding a hand out towards Greg. “Josh and I just had a baby last year… Please, Greg.”

  Greg smirked.

  “What do I get in return?”

  “I have ten in cash,” she said. “I can get more when we land.”

  Greg laughed.

  “They cost me fifty a pop! You’ll have to do better than that!”

  Patricia bit her bottom lip.

  “I’ll… pay you back in other ways,” she said, quietly, shamefully.

  “You’re not worth fifty!” Greg said, laughing.

  “Fuck you, asshole!” Patricia shouted, punching him.

  “Ow! Relax, crazy bitch, I was kidding!” he said, rubbing his arm. “I was just fucking around. Of course I’ll hook you guys up, no charge, but like I said… there’s… a supply issue…”

  The soldiers stared at each other hesitantly.

  “I’ll pass,” Reggie finally said. “It’s tempting, but I heard some crazy stories from Butner.”

  “Crazy stories?” Greg asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Cannibalism,” Reggie answered, uncomfortably. “It turns you into some kind of cannibal, I heard.”

  Greg, Matt, and Trish laughed.

  “Man, that shit is just disinformation put out by the brass to keep guys like us from hijacking those lab geeks and stealing the stuff for ourselves!” Matt said.

  “Yeah, for real, Reggie, do you believe everything you hear?” Greg asked, still laughing.

  “He’s telling the truth, you idiots,” Mathis said, closing his eyes. “If you paid attention to the radio traffic earlier, you’d know exactly how successful the vaccine is!”

  “Say one more word! I swear to fucking God! Say one more fucking word!” Greg shouted, pointing his weapon at Mathis.

  “See? They even have their field brass spreading their cover story around. Told you so, it’s all a lie manufactured by the brass to keep us scared and docile. If it were up to the brass, we’ll be last on the list to get the vaccine, I promise you that!” Matt said, matter-of-factly. “I bet Colonel Mathis already got inoculated.”

  Reggie shifted in his seat and stared out the window at the burning streets below them.

  “Still, I’ll pass,” Reggie said.

  “Me too,” the pilot said from the cockpit, staring straight ahead. “Vaccines are bullshit. I don’t even trust flu shots.”

  “Well, I guess that makes it simple,” Greg said. He passed a serum-filled syringe to Patricia and one to Matt.

  Patricia tore open the vacuum-sealed plastic with her teeth, flicked off the plastic tip that covered the needle and injected the serum into her thigh, hissing in pain at the sting of the needle.

  Greg ripped the syringe out of the plastic, slid the cover off of the needle, and injected himself in his left arm, grunting as the needle punctured through his skin.

  Matt carefully picked at the plastic that the syringe was sealed in, trying to peal it open with his fingers, aggravated.

  Patricia dropped the empty syringe and grabbed her abdomen, wincing with pain. She let out a shrill cry and clinched her arms around herself tightly, screaming.

  Matt stopped trying to open his syringe packet and looked over at her in horror.

  “What is wrong with you?” Matt asked, sliding away from her on the metallic bench.

  Patricia tried to answer but vomited on the floor instead, making everybody cringe in revulsion.

  “Get these cuffs off of me!” Mathis said as he stood up, holding out his handcuffed hands towards Matt and Reggie.

  “Shut up and sit down!” Matt screamed, pointing his rifle at Mathis.

  Mathis sat back d
own on the bench and stared at Patricia as she vomited a second time.

  Greg’s body tensed and he collapsed to the floor, seizing violently. His head struck the floor repeatedly, his eyes rolled up into their sockets, and salvia bubbled out from between his clinched lips.

  “Jesus! What do we do?” Reggie asked as he stared down at Greg’s convulsing corpse, frozen.

  “What’s going on back there?!” the pilot shouted, throwing quick glances behind him while trying to maintain control of the helicopter at the same time.

  “Your idiot flight crew used the vaccine!” Mathis shouted back.

  “What the fuck did you do to them?!” the pilot shouted at Mathis, glancing back in horror. “You and that civilian infected them!”

  Patricia tumbled off of the bench and started convulsing next to Greg’s corpse. Trickles of blood dribbled out of her ears and out of the corners of her eyes.

  Both Patricia and Greg stopped convulsing and lay motionless while Matt and Reggie stared down at their fallen comrades in disbelief.

  Mathis stared down at the two corpses, fidgeting, calculating.

  Richard sat on the bench, calm, staring vacantly ahead and smiling.

  Matt laid his rifle on the bench and crouched down next to Patricia’s corpse.

  Mathis lunged off of the bench and swung his handcuffed arms over Matt’s head and pulled back tightly, choking the man with his cuffs.

  Matt gasped for air and tried to pull the cuffs away.

  Mathis snapped the handcuff’s chain-links tighter against Matt’s throat while simultaneously pressing his foot into Matt’s back to gain leverage.

  Matt gurgled and thrashed about on the floor, clawing at his throat.

  Reggie, still in shock, aimed his rifle at Mathis and pulled the trigger.

  Mathis released and shoved Matt out towards Reggie and quickly ducked against the floor.

  The gunfire riddled Matt’s chest and peppered the wall behind him with bloody splotches.

  Matt’s bullet-riddled corpse collapsed on Reggie and sent the man stumbling backwards against the bench.

  Mathis rolled towards Patricia’s corpse and pulled her pistol out of her holster. He rolled back onto his back and aimed the pistol at Reggie.

  Reggie shoved Matt’s corpse off of him and–

  Mathis fired three shots into Reggie’s chest and one right below his left eye.

  Reggie took his last gasping breath and sunk backwards onto the bench, dropping his weapon beside him.

  The terrified pilot quickly started screaming into the radio.

  “Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is Bravo-Echelon to Falls Lake Command! Primary Two has gone rouge! He killed my entire flight crew! Everyone is dead! Bravo-Echelon is requesting clearance to dump all precious cargo and cut losses! Please respond!”

  There was no response, only static.

  “Keep us in the air, goddamnit, or else I’ll blow your brains all over the control panel!” Mathis shouted at the pilot from the floor, pointing the pistol towards him with his handcuffed hands.

  The pilot hunkered back over the controls, silent, shaking.

  “Well are you just going to sit there like a dunce or are you going to help me?” Mathis growled at Richard.

  Richard sat emotionless on the bench and then looked down at Mathis, studying him, lost in thought.

  Mathis slid across the floor towards Greg’s corpse and laid the pistol on the floor. He rolled the Greg onto his back and reached his hand into Greg’s cargo pockets. He managed to finally fish out the handcuff key and fumbled with them as he tried to unlock his handcuffs.

  Patricia slowly stood up and stared vacantly up at the ceiling, making a strange gurgling sound.

  “Shit,” Mathis cursed under his breath. He managed to unlock one of the cuffs and free one hand. He hurriedly reached for the pistol but accidently knocked it out of his reach.

  Patricia looked down at him and opened her mouth. She crouched down and grabbed his left leg. She leaned her head towards his thigh, opened her mouth, and bit into his suit.

  Mathis screamed out in pain.

  He kicked her hard and sent her slamming against the helicopter’s sliding cargo door.

  The cargo door slid a quarter-way open and wind rushed into the helicopter.

  Greg slowly got onto his hands and knees and crawled over towards Matt’s corpse. He leaned down and sunk his teeth into Matt’s.

  Patricia, her mouth dribbling with fresh blood, climbed onto Reggie’s bullet-riddled corpse, ripped open his uniform shirt, and started to ravish his abdomen.

  Richard stared at the surreal scene as he slowly slid down the bench, pressing his back tightly against the wall.

  Mathis, hands shaking, managed to unlock his other hand, threw the cuffs aside, and grabbed the pistol off of the floor.

  “Drop the weapon and jump out of the helicopter! Now!” the pilot ordered standing in the doorway of the cockpit, pointing his pistol at Mathis. The helicopter started to sway and lose altitude.

  “The vaccine reanimated them!” Mathis shouted, pointing his pistol towards Patricia and Greg. “Shoot them!”

  The pilot glanced over at Patricia and Greg and stared at them in horror and revulsion as they feasted on their two dead comrades.

  Mathis quickly turned his weapon towards the distracted pilot and fired twice.

  One round flew astray but the second hit the pilot’s throat.

  The pilot gurgled on his own blood and stumbled backwards. He squeezed off three quick shots, but they all flew wild.

  Mathis fired twice more into the pilot’s chest before dropping the depleted pistol and gripping his bitten leg.

  The dead pilot collapsed on the control panel, arms splayed out at his side.

  An alarm chimed and the helicopter violently tilted as it started to spin out of control, rapidly losing altitude.

  Mathis was thrown across the ground but managed to grab the doorframe of the cockpit with one hand, legs flailing, trying to keep from falling out of the spinning craft.

  Greg, Patricia, and the two corpses tumbled across the helicopter and slammed hard against the partially-opened cargo door and snapped it off of its bottom rail.

  The door, along with the corpses, fluttered down towards the engulfed remnants of the Brier Creek Shopping Center, one of FEMA’s central Safe Havens.

  Richard had his arms wrapped around one of the welded bench’s legs, feet dangling towards the opened doorway. One of his tattered shoes flung off of his foot and fell down into the lake of fire below.

  “Help me, Andy!” Richard shouted, eyes clinched shut, grip slipping.

  “Just hang on!” Mathis shouted above the wind and the sound of the inferno below. He pulled himself up into the cockpit with one arm and grabbed the dead pilot with the other. He pulled the pilot’s corpse off of the controls, threw him out of the cockpit, and let him fall out into the flames below.

  Mathis climbed into the pilot’s seat and gripped the cyclic stick with both hands and fought with it tenaciously, trying to stabilize the helicopter’s rapid spiral descent.

  Richard lost his grip and slid towards the open cargo door, screaming.

  The helicopter jolted as the spinning craft’s course evened itself and stopped its rapid descent.

  Mathis worked the controls and stabilized the helicopter course.

  Richard, only an inch away from the open cargo door, quickly stood up and backed away from it, shaking, as the helicopter regained proper altitude.

  “Come up here and sit the fuck down,” Mathis said. He removed his white-suit’s protective hood and ran his fingers through his oily, sweaty hair and scratched his stubble-covered face. As soon as he removed his hood, the stench of urine and wet feces filled the air.

  Richard cautiously made his way into the cockpit and sat down in the co-pilot’s seat, staring at Mathis with apprehension.

  “Your suit,” Richard said, methodically rubbing his neck.

  “Doesn’t matter any
more,” Mathis said, glancing down at his bit leg.

  Richard said nothing and simply stared out the window at the ground below. He sat rigidly still.

  The radio in the control console crackled with dead static. It hadn’t uttered a single human voice for hours.

  Mathis looked down at the Brier Creek shopping center as the helicopter made its assent. The entire area was awash with burning napalm. The Target and Wal-Mart stores, both former Red Cross shelters during the outbreak, were burning out of control and flames leapt through their tattered roofs. On the roofs, thousands of severely burnt men, women, and children shuffled aimlessly amongst the ashes in search of fresh hosts, staring up at the helicopter with an insatiable hunger.

  As he stared down at the walking cadavers, Mathis realized for the first time just how beyond anybody’s control the situation outside had become.

  It was no wonder why the government risked blowing their flu cover story by carpet-bombing the entire city with napalm.

  Things had fallen apart.

  “Well, it looks like their little firebombing was a failure,” Mathis said. “They’re still milling around down there… thousands of them.”

  He glanced over at Richard.

  Richard sat in silence, listening to a conversation Mathis couldn’t hear.

  “Just hang tight. I’m going to deliver you safely,” Mathis said. “But it won’t be at Falls Lake… that’s a waste of time.”

  Richard ignored him and stared vacantly ahead, desperately trying to eavesdrop on Andy and the female voice.

  “Are you alright?” Mathis asked, coughing.

  Richard snapped back to reality and slowly turned his head towards Mathis, opened his mouth, and then sighed.

  “What is it?” Mathis asked.

  “I was going to say something, but my thought got taken from my head before I could say it,” Richard said and went back to eavesdropping on the conversation inside his head.

  Mathis stared at him a moment and then focused ahead. He was starting to notice just how damaged and out of touch his co-pilot really was.

  “You need to pull yourself together,” Mathis finally said. “I know that you’re… not well, but if they make a vaccine from your blood… you’ll be a national hero. I’m finished. I don’t think you’re infected. I think that Dr. Medford was speaking out of turn. This…this thing is bigger than you and me, now, and much bigger than Raleigh, I fear. They need a cure… a real cure… You can offer them that. You can give this country a future. Do… you even understand how important you are?”