“Dave, really? You’re making me go?” she said. I heard the anger in her voice.
“It’s Black Dragon business,” I said.
“I don’t care. Fabian’s my friend. We don’t have secrets.”
“Oh, boy.”
“Griffin is family, Dave,” Holly said. “And an intern.”
“Should I start taking hormones so I can get on this girl train?”
“You can stay,” Holly said to Griffin.
We explained the situation to Fabian, emphasizing that neither he nor Griffin could tell anyone. I wondered what kind of a person Fabian was—whether he valued his job over friendship. When he spoke, that worry evaporated, making me like him in spite of myself.
“What do you need me to do?” he said.
We needed an excuse to take Fabian and Griffin out of the command center, so we gave Pederman a partial truth. We said that one of the patients at the isolation facility only spoke Spanish, and we were trying to help out Doctor Fallow. When he asked about Griffin, we emphasized that this was a non-combat run and that she was perfectly safe with us. I knew he smelled something, but he decided to let us go.
“On one condition,” Pederman said. “Erzen goes with you.”
Standing outside the isolation facility, we prepared Erzen, Griffin and Fabian for what they would see.
“They’re all sick,” I said. “But remember, they’re people.”
“And they’re being treated,” Warnick said. “What they have is contagious, but as long as you aren’t bitten, you’re safe. So be alert.”
Fabian nodded. “Got it.”
Erzen looked at Warnick and me. “Any chance they can be cured?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” I said. “Let’s go.”
Once inside, the Vollmer twins led us to an examination room. We stood at the window for a moment. Ariel lay on a stainless steel table, her wrists and ankles bound with thick leather straps. She still wore the hospital gown. An IV ran into one arm, and light from the monitors shone on her frightened face.
“What’s that on her wrist?” Holly said.
“Heart rate monitor,” Nancy said. “Connects wirelessly to that screen over there.”
Isaac stood over Ariel as we entered, checking her pupils with a medical penlight. “Decided to bring the family?” he said.
I smiled. “Well, you know.”
After the introductions, we focused on the patient.
“We’ve given her a mild sedative, but she’s conscious,” Isaac said, turning to Fabian. “Are you our translator?”
“Yes, sir. Fabian.”
“Okay, Fabian. Now, Warnick will tell you what to ask her. It’s imperative that you translate exactly what she tells us. Is that clear? We’ll be taking notes.” Isaac turned to one of the scientists, who stepped forward with a pad and pen.
Fabian approached the patient. “Señorita, me llamo Fabian Lopez,” he said to her. “Quiero hacerle algunas preguntas. ¿Me entiendes?”
“Si.”
“Gracias,” he said to her. Then to Warnick, “She’ll answer your questions.”
The interview took less than ten minutes. Fabian dutifully reported her responses to Warnick’s questions, and her story unfolded.
Ariel had been hiding out in an apartment building not far from the market. Everyone else had fled. One night, a van had pulled into the parking lot. Three men—one in street clothes and two policemen—had forced their way into the building and searched it, apartment by apartment. She’d tried to escape but the men had found her, tied her up and thrown her into the van. She described a strange hospital in the middle of the forest where they’d taken her, forced her inside, and put her in a clear cell. They left her for the night—she didn’t sleep.
When morning came, the experiments began. Several times a day, they removed Ariel from the cell and strapped her to a table. They injected her with something that made her sick. After that, she lost track of the time. Over the next few days, she faded in and out of consciousness. In the beginning, she remembered one of them asking her questions in Spanish—her name, where she lived, the names of her friends. At first she answered correctly each time. But as the days went on, she could no longer remember—not even her name.
When Warnick asked about the person who questioned her, she described a twitchy man who smelled bad.
I turned to the others. “Bob Creasy.”
“Ask her how she got back to the market,” Warnick said.
She said she vaguely remembered them driving her away from the hospital, then she’d found herself inside the market. She didn’t know how long she’d been locked inside. She’d passed out at some point. When she awoke she was surrounded by draggers, but they ignored her. She’d wanted to escape but was too weak.
We asked her about the young man we’d found in the freezer. She said he was a cart pusher named Luis. One day a dragger attacked and bit him. He got away and came straight to the grocery store. Ariel tried to look after him, but eventually he became violent. So she locked him in the freezer. That was the last thing she remembered clearly until the day we rescued her.
“If they were running a controlled experiment,” Isaac said, “why would they release her?”
Bud looked at his sister, then at Isaac. “That’s something Nancy and I were discussing earlier. They may have been modifying the virus to see how it performs in the wild.”
Nancy nodded. “It’s not like any protocol I’ve ever seen.”
After the interview, Isaac again examined the woman’s pupils. “Hey, look at this,” he said to the scientists. The three of them watched her face. We moved in closer to see what was happening.
Ariel’s eyes changed rapidly from brown to purple and back again. With each change, her facial expression changed impossibly from a young frightened woman to something cold and reptilian.
Bud glanced at the heart rate monitor. “It’s over one-eighty and rising!”
As Isaac leaned in to take a closer look, the woman’s head jerked up and she let go a hiss. I yanked Isaac away, and he fell on the floor. We heard an ominous stretching sound followed by a snap as one of the wrist straps broke. Erzen grabbed Griffin and Fabian and pulled them out of the room.
Ariel flailed around on the table. The second wrist strap gave. We jumped out of the way as she sat bolt upright and tore at her ankle straps. With a single effort, she burst both and leaped to her feet. She sized us up and decided to go for Holly.
A shot. A single bullet, leaving a hole the size of a quarter, sent blood and brain spraying out the back of her head. For a moment, Ariel’s eyes turned brown again, and that same frightened look appeared on her face.
“Dios,” she said and collapsed on the floor.
I turned. Warnick still held his handgun pointed at nothing. The room was dead silent except for the sound of our breathing.
Warnick lowered his weapon. “We have to tell Pederman,” he said.
ARIEL’S DEATH STUNNED ME. Seeing her in that cell only hours earlier—alive and looking normal—had given me hope that there might be a way out of this. But once again, hope was an illusion. Ariel had turned like all the others. And now she was dead.
We tried reaching Pederman by radio, but he was unavailable. So we arranged to transport Ariel’s body to the hospital, where Isaac planned to perform the autopsy. Erzen drove Griffin and Fabian to the command center. Considering the circumstances, Griffin held up well. Fabian not so much. He was a sensitive kid who had no business on the front lines. In dangerous circumstances he might be a liability.
Holly, Warnick and I joined Isaac in the autopsy room as he extracted and weighed fluids and took brain and other tissue samples. He worked in silence, completely absorbed, only speaking to record an observation. It surprised me how a family physician who had worked for decades to bring countless babies into the world—including me—could so ruthlessly and efficiently cut into the morbid flesh of a disease-ridden cadaver and marvel at its dark secrets.
Once again, Holly was squeamish, but she kept it under control. I took her hand and, despite the surroundings, thought of the new life she carried inside her. She seemed grateful for the support and forced herself to watch the proceedings.
There’s something otherworldly about an autopsy. As you watch body parts being removed and examined—pieces that are inside you—you can’t help feel an overwhelming sense of loss. It’s as if it’s you who, piece by piece, is being reduced to nothingness. And there was no life or movement in these things, or in the body that had been violated, but there could have been at the whim of a lethal virus that nobody understood—least of all its creators. I’d seen draggers in various states of decay, missing limbs, organs—and even half their faces. And yet they walked, hell-bent on only one thing—to feed. What was it that kept this girl from getting up and walking out of the room?
“This patient died human,” Isaac said, laying down his bloody scalpel.
“What about the virus?” Warnick said.
Isaac shrugged. “I don’t know. So far everyone who is infected dies, then reanimates. But not her.”
“Now what?” I said.
“The Vollmer twins aren’t making the progress I’d hoped. Not their fault—it’s a very difficult problem, mainly due to the fact that the virus continues to mutate.” Isaac leaned back and rubbed his tired eyes. “I think it makes sense to contact Robbin-Sear to see if we can collaborate. They might be further along.”
“I don’t think the mayor is going to like that,” I said.
“He doesn’t have a choice. We need a vaccine.”
As we headed for the door, Holly swayed and almost fell. I caught her and eased her into a chair.
“Autopsy get to you?” I said.
“No. I think … I think it’s the baby.”
“She’s pregnant?” Isaac said to me.
“Yes. Several weeks along.”
Isaac took Holly’s hand. “I’m going to assume you’re not under a doctor’s care and examine you myself, young lady.”
Knowing that Isaac would look after my pregnant wife gave me comfort, but I couldn’t shake the dread over the things his hands had touched only seconds earlier.
Warnick and I waited in Isaac’s office. He tried radioing Pederman again to ask him to meet us there but still couldn’t reach him. Eventually, he tracked down Erzen. A little while later Holly and Isaac entered. She smiled as she took a seat next to me.
“Everything’s A-Okay,” Isaac said, sitting at his desk.
“What about the fainting?” I said.
“Perfectly normal, Dave. Holly’s heart is pumping more blood now, and her blood pressure’s going down. That can, of course, cause lightheadedness. Eventually, her body will stabilize. I’ve prescribed some vitamins. You can pick them up from the hospital pharmacy.”
“Thanks, Isaac. With everything going on …”
“No need to explain. Holly, I want to see you again in four weeks.”
“I’ll be here,” Holly said.
“You scared me,” I said to her.
“Sorry. I’m fine.”
Pederman appeared in the doorway, rapping his knuckles on the doorframe. “Am I interrupting?”
“No, perfect timing,” Isaac said.
We spent the next ten minutes updating Pederman about the incident with Ariel. By the time we finished, he was pissed and dressed us down pretty good.
“When I asked you guys to investigate, I didn’t mean you should keep me out of the loop,” he said.
Isaac interrupted. “It’s all my fault, Kelly. I asked them to keep a tight lid on things.”
Pederman ignored the doctor and glared at Warnick, Holly and me. “What if Griffin or Fabian were injured? Come on, guys, we’re supposed to be a team.”
“It won’t happen again,” Warnick said.
“Sorry, Isaac, but this is unacceptable behavior.” The anger out of his system, Pederman sank into a chair. He looked haggard. “Warnick, there’s something I need you to look into. Some of our people have gone missing.”
“How many?”
“So far, there are twenty I can’t account for.”
“Do you think the draggers got them?” I said.
“No one reported finding any bodies.”
“I’m on it,” Warnick said.
“Start with the checkpoints. That’s where we’ve been having the most problems.”
“What kind of problems?” Isaac said.
“People trying to get in to see their friends and loved ones. The situation is becoming critical.”
“Do you need us out there?” Warnick said.
“I do. But the mayor is very concerned about our ability to control the situation. I advised him to let us do our job.”
“Does that mean he’s going to leave me alone?” I said.
“Dave, you’re part of a murder investigation, remember? The mayor is trying to make this town safe.”
“Is that why he ordered that ape O’Brien to beat me up?”
“I called the mayor on that. He promised to rein in O’Brien. I think we need to put that behind us for the good of the town.”
I felt my lip where the mayor had hit me. “Hey, I’m all about turning the page.” Holly’s eyes said she knew I was lying.
“So, how would this work?” Warnick said to Isaac.
“Well, I had hoped the Vollmer twins could meet with the other researchers so we can figure out how best to proceed.” Then to Pederman, “We were talking about this earlier. My researchers aren’t making a lot of progress. And it sounds like neither are the people working for Robbin-Sear. If we combine forces …”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Pederman said. “When I asked the mayor about Robbin-Sear, he refused to let us get involved at first. But I think we’ve come to an understanding. Why don’t you guys get over there, asap. They should be ready by the time you arrive.”
My paranoid brain went to work. Why would the mayor go along with this? Also, I didn’t trust Bob Creasy. The man was unstable. Were we walking into a trap?
“Dave, you look worried,” Pederman said.
“So the mayor actually agreed? Just like that?”
“Well … he didn’t say no.”
To me, the whole thing stunk. “If no one has any objections, I’d like Holly to stay back on this one.”
“Dave, there’s nothing wrong with me.” Then to Isaac, “Tell him.”
One of the things I loved most about Holly was her sense of duty. But I was nevertheless afraid for her. I turned to Isaac and saw fatherly advice coming my way.
“Dave, she’s in her first trimester. She’s fine. Probably in better shape than you.”
“I don’t care—I don’t like it.”
“Too bad,” Holly said. To underscore the point, she shot her tongue out at me.
“Real mature.”
As we rose, Pederman’s radio crackled. He stepped outside and returned a moment later, his mouth a hard line.
“What happened?” Warnick said.
“A group of armed civilians has broken through,” Pederman said. Then to Isaac, “We’ve got casualties, Doc. Better send over some ambulances.”
“What about Robbin-Sear?”
“I’m afraid that will have to wait. This is Priority One.”
We stopped at the command center to load up on weapons and ammo. By the time we reached the flashpoint—a freeway exit on the edge of town—we found ourselves in a war zone. Black Dragon helicopters, equipped with Browning M2 .50 caliber machine guns, hovered overhead, the gunners inside training their weapons on the chaos below. High above, drones surveyed the area. There must have been two or three hundred heavily armed civilians overrunning the checkpoint. Behind the concrete barriers, several vehicles burned fiercely.
Through one of the helicopters’ PA systems, a voice shouted at the civilians to lay down their weapons and surrender, but no one paid any attention. A group of soldiers got out of the vehicle next t
o ours and were immediately cut down with armor-piercing bullets. An autocannon from one of the helicopters fired on the attackers and cut them to shreds in front of us, leaving only legs standing and then toppling like pick up sticks.
We jumped out of our vehicle and took cover behind it. We were dressed in body armor and ballistic Kevlar helmets, but I still didn’t feel safe. All I could think about was Holly. She looked at me with frightened eyes and, knowing what I was thinking, patted my arm to reassure me.
“Say a prayer,” she said.
I caught sight of Springer with some other men directly across from me on the other side of the checkpoint. Gunfire erupted close to us. We were way past warning shots. I looked behind me and saw Pederman a ways off on the radio, calling out orders. I grabbed Warnick’s radio.
“Pederman!” I said. “Do we wound them or—”
He shook his head vigorously. His voice came in clear. “Shoot to kill, son,” he said.
Warnick nodded sadly. This wasn’t easy for him. Or me. Though I had killed members of the Red Militia in gun battles, I had never intentionally shot a civilian—unless he was undead. I focused on the angry faces of the approaching mob firing their weapons at us. Something told me that they would have no trouble taking my life. Or Holly’s.
“I’m going to join Springer,” Warnick said. “You and Holly stay here and defend your position.”
I knew what he meant. This was happening, and nothing could change that now. “Are you ready?” I said to Holly.
“Yeah.” Then she froze, staring over my shoulder. “Dave!”
I turned. A horde came rushing at us through the trees, attracted by the gunfire. Turning back, I saw two men carrying shields made from scrap iron rushing us. We were surrounded.
I stood and fired my AR-15 at the men, and Holly did the same. The bullets ricocheted off the metal, pinging as they whizzed off in different directions.
“Come on, fall down!” Holly said.
“Aim low and keep firing!”
“Roger that!”
Holly sprayed bullets at their boots, and the men fell in a heap in front of her, screaming and cursing. I ran behind her and took out as many draggers as I could. A number of them got past me, though, and with vicious precision, went after soldiers and civilians alike.
The Dead Series (Book 2): Dead Is All You Get Page 13
