by Brent Abell
Phoenix Protocol:
The Middletown Omnibus
Brent Abell
Phoenix Protocol: The Middletown Omnibus © 2020 Brent Abell
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be used or reproduced without written consent by the author or literary estate.
Original Publishing History
It Turned into a Middletown Blitz was originally published in Middletown Apocalypse © 2015
Phoenix Rising was originally published in Middletown 2: Midtown Apocalypse © 2017
Phoenix Burning was originally published in Middletown 3: Metal Apocalypse © 2017
On the Burning Wings of Gods was originally published in Middletown 4: Unrestival © 2019
This book is a work of fiction. Characters, places, and events are a product of the author’s imagination or used totally fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead (or undead), is coincidental.
Foreward
Some projects are like labor, and some projects are labors of love. The Middletown series is one done out of love. When Jack Wallen approached me about being a part of the first Middletown book, I jumped at the chance to do something new and different. The rules were each author wrote their own story, but each story had to contain shared elements. We shared location, individual characters, and events. I thought I’d write my story and wash my hands of it, but the first book was successful and spawned a second book.
Before the second book came about, I’d had thoughts about how I left the story, and if I wanted to return to the narrative. The second book gave me the chance to expand on my initial ideas and create a world. Discussions went on while the second book was coming together about the series going on for a few more volumes. At this time, I decided all my entries would be set in the same world and build on each other.
The four novelettes I wrote told the tale of how the Phoenix Virus was unleashed on our planet. They wrapped up the infection portion of the story and seemed like an excellent place to collect them. I’m not sure if the Middletown series will continue, but the story of the survivors found inside these pages isn’t over yet. Now, you have over fifty thousand words in your hands about the apocalypse brought on by the Phoenix Virus.
I hope if you’ve read these before, you’ll enjoy these newly re-edited versions of the story. If you haven’t witnessed the Phoenix Virus in all her glory, enjoy. Thank you all for your support. Every reader is a gift, and indie writers feel blessed to have you go on these incredible journies with us.
Take care, and I’ll see you soon,
Brent Abell
From the Realms of Pandemic Isolation
April 2020
It Turned Into a Middletown Blitz
1
Charlie Nobel heard something bang against the lab door and the footfalls of someone running down the tile floor hallway. Sighing, he looked up from the microscope and eyed the door. The hands on the loudly ticking clock seemed to have stopped.
“Oh, my God,” Charlie muttered and tried to ignore the non-passage of time.
It never failed, Dr. Conrad Hart always dropped off some slides for the Advanced Bio class he was a TA for at three on a Friday. Never mind the fact he was still a student and had meaningful college pursuits; beer, girls, parties, and more beer. No, he ended up doing the write-up for Dr. Hart to use for the class or for when Dr. Hart failed to show up, and he had to teach the lesson.
Charlie buried his face back in the microscope to look at some mold spores when he thought about the door again. Slowly, he raised his head and shuffled to the door. Outside in the hall, the usual Friday whistling of the janitor Fred Owens filled the air. Like clockwork, once the clock hit three, he’d be finishing up his cleaning duties so he could go and spend his paycheck at Lou’s Bar on the edge of campus. When Charlie opened the door, his foot struck something and heard something like a glass break. Fred looked up, sighed, and nodded at him before he went back to his mopping.
“Fred, did you see anybody out here?”
“I think the FedEx guy came running through here a few minutes ago. I heard him run out the door, and the truck pull out. I think he might’ve been in a hurry,” Fred acknowledged and looked back down.
Charlie checked the floor to see what he accidentally kicked, and he saw the bright orange box against the wall beside the door. His eyes went directly to the Biohazard symbols all around the package, and for a moment, his stomach sank, thinking about the noise it made when his foot struck it. Bending over to pick it up, he caught a whiff of something sweet, a sickeningly sweet smell that made his stomach churn. Scooping up the box, he read the address label.
“Dr. Cornelius Hart? Who’s that?” he asked nobody in particular. Fred looked up from his mopping duties and shook his head at him again.
Charlie read the address to make sure it was correct and noticed the bottom corner of the label had curled up. Carefully, he pulled the sticker off, trying not to damage the address beneath.
“The CDC?” Charlie read.
The printed label originally on the package was addressed to the CDC in Atlanta. Curious, Charlie opened the door and went back into the lab. Carefully, he put the box down on Dr. Hart’s desk and went back about his business of straightening up the lab before he headed out for the weekend.
“And don’t forget to come and see me and the rest of the 106.1 Campus Crew at the big All Hallow’s Eve Greek Bash in the commons tonight. That’s right, come and hear me, Rex Ross, as I DJ the party loud enough to raise the dead! Howl, baby howl!” The voice of Rex Ross called out over the radio.
Charlie grabbed some flasks and put them up in the drawer next to the radio. Excitement and anticipation raced through him. As part of the Campus Crew, he knew how big the party was going to be, and he hoped he could end his drought with the ladies on campus. The problem he’d found out was on a small college like Middletown University, once a date went wrong, it didn’t take long for word to spread around the female population like wildfire. Once the story of his failure reached all the sororities and even the freshman dorms, his dating prospects had dried up completely.
Until the day he met the cool Rex Ross in an advanced Chem class. Since then, he noticed the females on campus didn’t avoid him anymore, but they still didn’t throw themselves at him either. He hated the metal music Rex played on the radio, but he joined the Campus Crew anyway, hoping to get some tail again. Tonight was the big Halloween bash they planned, and he prayed his luck was about to change.
Charlie woke from his daydream when the phone on Dr. Hart’s desk called out with its shrill ringing.
“Middletown University Biology Department, Dr. Hart’s office. How can I help you?” Charlie asked the old antique corded phone.
“Ah, Charlie! Did a package arrive for me today?” the chipper voice on the other side asked.
“Yeah, a box just got dropped off about five minutes ago, Dr. Hart. What is it?”
“Nothing, nothing. Just some research I’m doing for a friend in Atlanta.”
Relief filled Charlie, and he relaxed about the bright bio-hazard labeled package sitting on the desk before him.
“Good, I was really kinda freaked out about it,” Charlie chuckled.
“Leave it on my desk, and for God’s sake, don’t touch it!” Dr. Hart said.
“Sure, no problem, I’m about to head out for the bash in the Commons anyway. I’ll see you when I stop by Monday to prep the notes for Tuesday’s Freshman Bio class.”
“Good, I’ll leave the outline and my notes on the desk when I stop in tonight,” Dr. Hart replied.
“You’re coming in on a Friday night?”
“Work of this nature does not wait on the schedules of man,” Dr. Hart stated and laughed.
“Cool, I’m heading out. Later, Doc,” Charlie said in his best Buggs Bunny impression. It wasn’t a very good one, but it brought a small laugh from Dr. Hart as he hung up the phone.
Now, Charlie stared at the box, and curiosity got the better of him. His fingers danced across the bio-hazard symbols, and he noticed a damp spot on the corner of the package where his Nikes got up close and personal with it. The sharp, sweet aroma he smelled when he first found the box crossed his nostrils again, and he quickly pulled his fingers away before they touched the substance- a small reddish-orange spot formed in the box’s corner and seeped out on the desk.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Charlie whispered and rushed to the sink for some paper towels.
Outside the door, he heard Fred whistling to whatever he was listening to on his Walkman, and he stopped pulling all the paper towels from the dispenser.
What the fuck am I doing? We pay a janitor to clean stuff up. I’m only an unpaid TA, he thought.
Without hesitation, he rushed to the door and threw it open. The door hit something and stopped suddenly. The handle jerked violently from Charlie’s hand, and Fred stood there with the door handle in his hand seething.
“Sorry…” Charlie muttered. Looking in Fred’s eyes, he became genuinely scared for his life.
“Watch what you’re doing,” he spat and released the door.
“Yeah, sorry, Fred. There’s a small spill on Dr. Hart’s desk I need you to clean up when you go in to get the trash and stuff.”
Fred huffed and pushed past Charlie into the lab.
Sensing the time was right, Charlie took off and didn’t even go back in to grab his jacket. A mad Fred was something he didn’t feel like being around because he knew the extra two minutes worth of cleaning would delay Fred getting to the bar. If there was a delay getting to the bar, Fred wasn’t a nice guy. Still, he did have a reputation of spending his weekly check from the University at The Round About Bar every Friday night once he split from the grind of emptying trash cans and cleaning bathrooms.
With Fred behind him cleaning up the mess on Dr. Hart’s desk, Charlie sprinted out the Biology Department’s main doors and out into the crisp autumn air.
2
“Fucking interns,” Fred muttered and glared at the orange goop pooled at the edge of the desk and dripping on the floor.
He sniffed the air, and his stomach churned from the sweet stench. Fred hated candy, and anything sweet gave him a bad case of gas. Sighing, he looked at the clock and felt the thirst growing deep in him. It was beer-thirty, and he had a paycheck to throw down on his beer and whiskey. If Fred had been a married man, the suds would’ve been his mistress. Digging through the different cleaners and towels on his battered yellow cleaning cart, he decided on a rough-looking green sponge. Fred tilted his head and considered the cleaner type it would take to clean up the mess. He might be a drunk but was carefully methodical about his work. No paycheck equaled no beer, and it was the only math needed. Selecting the bleach mixture, he sprayed the floor and the area on the desk. Grabbing the box, he held it out from his body and placed it gently in the lab’s sink.
The smell of the liquid made his stomach quake, and the urge to vomit kept rising in the back of his throat. Quickly, he wiped off the desk with a few fast swipes and hit his knees to finish off the putrid looking orange goop. In the few moments it sat on the dingy white tiles, he could see it already staining the tiles further. He took a quick swipe through the fluid with his trusty rag, and his hand slipped. The cloth sailed through the goo, and his palm landed in the middle of it. Immediately, a burning sensation flared up where the orange goo covered his hand.
“Damn it,” he angrily said. Out of instinct, he stuck his hand in his mouth. When he had a burn, it was always the method he used to cool it off quickly.
The sweet goo tasted bitter, but he swallowed and shot to his feet. His throat burned, and he rushed to the sink. Turning on the cold water, he stuck his hand underneath and then turning his head awkwardly sideways, began lapping the water into his mouth straight from the faucet. The cold water did little to stop the pain racing down to his stomach, but he drank anyway.
Something in Fred’s gut churned. Bubbles formed in his intestines, and he felt his face go flush. The lab windows were still open, and not even autumn’s chilly breeze blowing through comforted him. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, and he doubled over as a cramp squeezed his insides like a vice. Reaching up, he felt his head, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d swear he was on fire. Bile erupted from his mouth, and the blackened bloody mixture splashed on the counter around the sink. A sour aroma filled his nose, and the second wave of retching followed. More vomit spewed from his mouth, and he felt light-headed. Everything in the lab swam and became blurry. Fred choked back another blast of vomit, and it slid back down his throat. Gagging, Fred felt his eyes bulge, and the world faded to black as he fell to the floor, and his convulsing body grew still.
Outside, the campus grew louder as the students flooded from their last classes to prepare for the big All Hallow’s Eve Greek Bash.
3
Rex Ross sat behind the mike at the station and rubbed his temples. Midterms had been a bitch, and the only release he had was spinning the metal tunes on the campus radio station. His girlfriend, Rachael Howard, student taught at Middletown High School during the day and attended night classes at Middletown University during the evening. Because of her weekday schedule, she focused on lesson plans and sleeping on the weekends.
All of it made Rex an afterthought sometimes. He loved her, but the situation was wearing thin on him. Rex looked down and messed with the balance settings again. Over the last three days, he’d spent hours in the studio preparing the playlist, and he hoped everything went off without a hitch. Taking another peek at the clock, Rex wondered where Charlie was. They’d known each other since second grade, and he needed his help for the dance.
The Greek Houses had crews in decorating and setting up the drink tables. He quietly watched as the Kappa guys mixed a massive bowl of a green punch and emptied a fifth of rum into it.
Ah, he hoped college would never end.
But he knew the end was drawing near. Rachael would finish her student teaching in December and graduate. Rex loaded up on summer courses the past two years, and he’d finish at the same time. Everything was going according to their plan. Rex remained optimistic and understood once her workload came to a halt in December, they’d be back to their routine.
And there was the wedding to plan.
“Rex! Hey, you ready to go and grab a bite before the bitches get here?”
Rex rolled his eyes at the sound of Tad Johnson’s voice. He was head of the Phi Alpha Theta house, and he thought of himself as a Greek god, Apollo, or Dionysius in the flesh. Tad played for the football team, and no matter how bad he did on an exam, he always seemed to skate by and pass.
“I’ll be down in a second; I just need to finish up a few things. Why don’t you head over to the cafeteria, and I’ll catch up?” Rex offered.
“Yeah, sure! But hurry up, I heard people are already lining up outside,” Tad said as he walked toward the doors.
Rex watched him exit the building, and he dug around in his pocket for his cell phone.
“Shit, two missed Rachael calls,” he muttered and dialed her number.
“Hello, handsome,” her bubbly voice answered.
“Why hello, baby,” Rex crooned.
“How late is the party going to last tonight?”
“I think I should be broke down and packed by midnight. Will you still be up if I creep by?” He asked in a bad Bella Lugosi accent.
“I doubt it, I have to have my lesson plans finished for next week, and my research paper outline is due. I’m getting so behind,” Rachael moaned.
“I miss you.”
“I know, and I’m sorry it’s tur
ned to this right now. Once this semester’s over, we’ll take a break and go somewhere,” Rachael sighed.
“Sounds like a plan.”
“I’ll talk to you later, Rex,” she said, and he heard her lips give a kiss to the phone.
“Love you.”
“Love you too. Now raise the dead tonight.”
They both hung up, and Rex stared out across the empty room. In half an hour, it would be full of drunken college kids celebrating Halloween.
He wished it’d stay empty, and he could spend the evening in Rachael’s arms. Instead, he had to get ready to go on with the show.
4
Marie Johns glanced in the Biology Department’s lounge and sighed heavily. The room was still a mess, and to her, it appeared Fred hadn’t been by to clean it yet. Styrofoam coffee cups and stirs covered the counter and napkins sat on the floor next to the trash can.
Good thing none of them play basketball; she thought and wondered how far behind Fred was.
Storming out of the lounge, she took a glance out in the hall; she still didn’t see his cart anywhere. Glancing at her watch, she saw it was ten after six, and it wasn’t like him to be late on a Friday.
“That man,” Marie huffed and tore off toward the labs to search for him. Tonight he had a date with her, and she didn’t want to allow him to stand her up again. Marie didn’t keep her figure looking as good as she did at fifty so she could get stood up on a date by the campus drunk. Her libido had already shredded most of the men in town, and with Fred, she realized she’d reached the bottom of the barrel, but she still hungered. It made her feel good to be wanted, even if it was by Fred.
A few students straggled by and ignored her when Marie gave them a small wave. In the twenty years she worked for Middletown University, she noticed the students getting ruder and ruder with each passing year. Of course, once upon a time, Marie would’ve slept with half the teacher’s assistants and most of the male faculty. Hell, she never turned down a romp with a female either.
