The Lazarus Strain Chronicles (Book 2): The Rise

by Deville, Sean

  Mankind had spread himself across the globe, getting into every nook and every cranny, placing himself firmly on every continent no matter the hardships faced by extremes of climate or nature. Most wouldn’t escape the virus though. They would die and rot as the dead rose up from the earth to seek and consume the flesh of the living. For those that escaped the virus, their fellow humans would become the new enemy.

  22.08.19

  Houston, USA

  Reece hadn’t really known what to expect, but she was shocked by what she saw once she was past the fences and the check points. When Clayton and his men had left, the Corporal had given her back her weapon. Although she was infected, there was a standing order that first responders could fulfil their existing roles within the facility for as long as their symptoms allowed. So infected doctors and nurses cared for the sick, and infected law enforcement helped keep order.

  As she had already witnessed, the Astrodome and the surrounding area had been separated into two zones. One was for infected, and the second was for those who were dragged off the streets for their criminal actions. Those taken to the new jail were initially going to be screened for the virus, but after a few incidents it was considered problematic to force blood tests on the violent and the often drug addled. With each of the new cells housing several people, they would just have to take their chances like everyday folk did on the street. Reece had no idea what plans were in place for when one of the prisoners died and came back. She made subtle enquiries but nobody seemed willing to tell her, an umbrella of secrecy already descending over the Astrodome’s operations. There was a natural side effect to that of course, because secrecy causes gossip, whole generations addicted to the internet and reality entertainment. When the majority of a population had developed an almost insatiable need to know the ins and outs of other people’s business, the addiction to gossip wasn’t going to be cured by going cold turkey.

  Reece had only been here a few hours and she had already heard the rumours. It wasn’t just criminals they were bringing into the new prison. There was speculation that the Federal Government was using the crisis to round up as many political agitators as they could. Reece wasn’t in that part of the facility to confirm or deny such a conspiracy theory, and she told herself that her government and the government of Texas wouldn’t engage in such activities. It was against the constitution, and that sacred document was what made her country great.

  There was a strong chance however that she was simply deceiving herself. Why would people in power want to let a good crisis go to waste?

  The sick were being housed in the Astrodome itself, the main sports field sheltered under the huge roof that covered it. The number of sick were only in the hundreds so far, many of those still being processed in the array of tents that had been set up outside. Even now, work was still going on to install the facilities needed. The Astrodome had ample washroom facilities for tens of thousands of people, but you couldn’t ask hundreds, probably thousands of sick patients to trek all the way from the centre of the field to where the toilets were. Many of them would be suffering from an array of gastro intestinal ailments, so another solution was needed. Chemical toilets were far from ideal, but they were really the only viable solution.

  As for housing, a series of wire cages separated by wire tunnels were being erected. People often baulked at the thought of being placed in a cage with little privacy in the sight of strangers, but with the fact that anyone who died would likely return to try and eat all those around them, people still understood that the impenetrable wire was for their own protection. Already, choke points had been established to defend against a mass uprising of undead should the cages fail. The infection was to be contained, and ended on this field if at all possible. Reece was amazed that such a facility could be erected so quickly. She didn’t realise everything necessary had all been set aside and mothballed years ago to combat a pandemic, or even to detain belligerent and violent insurgents should civil order begin to break down. There was even a constant stream of trucks that were bringing nearly a hundred thousand plastic coffins that had been simply stored in fields waiting for this very eventuality.

  FEMA and the Department of Defence had been planning for a global pandemic and civil uprising for over a decade…and much of that they found they could use to combat the growing zombie menace. Texas was prepared and ready.

  Reece patrolled the spaces between the wire enclosures, her accommodation a small office in the administration aspect of the Astrodome well away from any of the uninfected individuals. She was forced to wear a health monitor that was locked onto her arm so as to give warning should she start to go downhill. Once that happened, she would be disarmed and placed in one of the cages like the rest of the populous. Reece wasn’t sure she saw the point in her relative freedom, but she was happy to stay out of one of those cages as long as possible. Once she was in there, then her ultimate death was probably certain. As it was, she didn’t think she had any real worsening of her symptoms.

  Considering she was supposed to be infected, she felt well enough in herself.

  She spent her time talking to people, the role she had always enjoyed most on the streets. Let them see you, let them feel safe that there is someone there to protect them. The fact she wasn’t encumbered by a facial covering seemed to go a long way to building trust. To many she was one of the THEM, not one of the often tactless soldiers who didn’t seem to treat the sick with the humanity they deserved. Some of the people she encountered were hostile to her though. Not all of the sick were pleasant human beings and she soon realised who she liked and who she couldn’t tolerate. Some people were scared, others just outright antagonistic towards her because of her uniform and the fact she was on the other side of the wire. A minority even acted as if the whole situation was her fault. Then there were the ones that needed watching, characters that could have done with being placed in the other place with those who chose to break the law. She ignored them, there were other people available to cater to their needs.

  Reece had even seen a few cases of faeces being chucked at the guards in open defiance. All that resulted in was a beating and a long march in irons to the cells that held the criminality. All in front of the frightened masses. People soon learnt the importance of towing the line and behaving themselves.

  Then there was the other side of the equation, the soldiers who were just abusive because it was in their nature. Reece kept an eye on them, soon learning which ones to be wary around. One private had even pumped her behind with his gloved hand. Perhaps he thought he ruled the roost that he could somehow do what he pleased. Maybe he got high on the thought that he could somehow intimidate her. The lascivious soldier hadn’t got the response he expected.

  “Honey, do that again and I’m going to get all overwhelmed. I might just have to rip that gas mask off and give you the deepest kiss you’ve ever seen. You know, plenty of tongue, just how you like it.” It hadn’t happened again.

  What surprised Reece was the high number of children here. Children were kept with one or more parents where possible in a separate section of the facility. Some parents who weren’t infected opting to share their child’s cell, an example of the ultimate sacrifice. Those without parents or guardians were kept together with those of similar age. There was no way they could be allowed to play together, and the younger ones just cried behind the wire, devoid of any real human attention. Reece stayed away from that part of the Astrodome. She didn’t do kids at the best of times, finding her interaction with them awkward and stunted. There was also the fact that she didn’t think she could listen to so many of them weeping. That might have broken the wafer thin barrier that was allowing her to keep it all together.

  Reece was there to see the constant inflow of the sick and the dying. As the day moved on, an increasing number of those brought here ended their short association with Lazarus as death took them. Trapped in their cages, the zombies were quickly dispatched by the soldiers who finally showed their
ultimate purpose here. Sooner or later she herself was going to have to kill a zombie when it resurrected. She was confident she could do that, or so she hoped.

  22.08.19

  Washington, USA

  President Ryan woke up with the worst headache he had ever experienced. He had gone to bed feeling unwell and exhausted, leaving his staff to run the emergency that was sweeping across the country. Sleep was no longer on the usual schedule. You went as long as you could and then got the bare minimum you needed. The thought that he was infected with Lazarus hadn’t even occurred to him.

  Unlike some in the emergency bunker, he was given the privilege of a bed. Beside him, his wife slept peacefully, oblivious to the world that was rapidly crashing around their ears. She could get the rest the body needed, preferring sleep than to be awake. Sleep allowed her the luxury of not having to worry about how everything was falling apart. Her husband would have little time for her as the crisis unfolded, so she opted to stay out of his way, knowing that he knew she was there for him if he needed her advice. It was something he had done often through his political career, Ryan being of the opinion that he would never have reached the position he had without her guiding hand.

  Before retiring through shear exhaustion, he’d been witness to multiple reports that showed the virus was burning through the continental United States at a horrendous pace. He’d always wanted to be President, but he’d never imagined his Presidency would be so potentially short.

  Gingerly, Ryan got out of bed, slipping his feet into the slippers that waited for them. For some reason that he couldn’t explain, the souls of his feet hurt, an unusual symptom that could be just about tolerated. He’d been a marine major in the invasion of Grenada, a bit of discomfort when he walked he could deal with. His head though, man he needed something to take the edge off that.

  The marine outside his room snapped to attention when the President opened the door. Ryan gave the soldier a reassuring pat on the shoulder before heading off to the kitchen area, the men here to protect him worthy of his respect. As if drawn to the President’s presence, Jessy appeared from a side room and quickly came to his side. She had the mandatory file of papers in her arms.

  “You look terrible sir,” Jessy noticed.

  “Why thank you Jessy. And good day to you too.”

  “The New York State governor has sealed off Manhattan,” Jessy said getting straight into business, “but they have had reports of outbreaks across the city and the state.”

  “Can I at least get a coffee before we discuss the end of the world,” Ryan jokingly begged. “And I need some painkillers too. I’ve got a bastard behind the eyes that I need to kill.” A concerned hand grabbed his arm.

  “Seriously sir, are you okay?”

  “My feet hurt, can you believe that?”

  “I suppose it’s better than other parts of you hurting, sir.” It was the only response that seemed to make sense to her. They walked into the kitchen area together which was presently deserted.

  “You see, that’s why I keep you around, to keep my head out of my ass.” Ryan poured himself a large mug of coffee, the presidential seal stating that the mug was just for him.

  “Can I talk business now?”

  “Painkillers?” Jessy pulled the med kit off the wall, and after a brief search through its orderly contents, withdrew the dissolvable aspirin. With a glass filled from the tap, she presented the fizzing mess to the leader of the free world. The President gulped it down greedily. “Now you may begin.”

  “As I said, New York is bad. The National Guard are keeping a lid on it, but the infection rates are through the roof. The NYPD has lost most of its command and control structure. Los Angeles is on fire, rival gangs tearing each other apart. The governor of California has decided to just cordon them off and let them fight it out. And there are running battles on the streets above.”

  “Is there any good news?”

  “No sir, not really. Texas seem to have things under control for now, and the rust states haven’t reported any outbreaks yet.”

  “Do you still want to be my Chief of Staff in all this?” It was a serious question. He wouldn’t blame her if Jessy decided to just get up and quit.

  “Of course, sir. There’s nowhere I would rather be.” It was true, she had committed a large proportion of her life to the man who she knew to be an honourable and capable leader. “When you are ready, General Roberts would like you in the incident room.” General Roberts, the head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, who had been in the Whitehouse when Secret Service agents had grabbed Ryan and dragged everyone down to the bunker several days ago. That was before they had fully understood what the virus was capable of, the numbers it had infected, and the ease with which it had spread. The Whitehouse bunker was still sealed off, nobody allowed in or out. Even if blood tests had been done on everyone before going down, it would have been too little too late to stop what was about to happen.

  General Roberts was immaculately dressed. He stood ramrod straight watching one of the larger display screens, CNN still broadcasting. Rumour was he never smiled.

  “General,” Ryan said greeting him.

  “Mr President.”

  “How is the military handling this?”

  “Poorly, sir,” Roberts stated without trying to gloss over the truth. “We’re about to lose our base in Okinawa. The infection got a foot hold and cut through the men stationed there like wildfire. Other than that desertion rates are unacceptably high, especially amongst the Guard.”

  “Can we contain this?”

  “We might be able to save parts of it, but we need to be prepared to lose some of the larger cities. In my opinion New York’s gone. So is Chicago, Seattle and Detroit. Houston, Atlanta and Dallas acted quickly and seem to be getting it contained, but those are isolated roses in a whole pile of shit. The city above you is on lock down. We don’t have the manpower or the resources to come close to stopping this. We need to think about taking more drastic actions.”

  “I seriously hope you aren’t asking me to nuke our cities General.”

  “Whilst it might come to that, I think other options need to be considered first. We’ve seen the satellite images from Beijing, the nukes didn’t stop a damn thing.”

  “Thank God for that, I doubt I would ever be able to authorise using nuclear weapons on our own citizens,” Ryan said genuinely relieved.

  “My alternate solution would maintain the country’s infrastructure. We need to use nerve agents on the areas of highest infection.” The President looked at the general as if he had suddenly gone mad. Another voice entered into the conversation.

  “General Roberts is right,” the Defence Secretary stated as he walked over to the pair. A General himself, he could see the wisdom in the action being proposed.

  “Are you two out of your mind? Anyway, we aren’t supposed to have any nerve agents.”

  “Destruction of stockpiles is behind schedule,” General Roberts stated. “That would have been one of the things I would have briefed you about had you become President under more favourable times. We can blanket the heavily infected areas allowing our troops to go in and mop up.”

  “No, I will not order the mass slaughter of US citizens.” He still held his coffee mug, and it shook in his hand as the cough descended on him. Those painkillers needed to hurry up and work before his head split open. “We don’t even know if nerve agents will work against the undead.”

  “It wouldn’t be them we would be trying to kill, sir.” Roberts kept a straight face, fully serious with what he was proposing.

  “How can you even think this?”

  “It’s my job to Mr President. I am here to give you all viable options to combat this threat. And in my opinion starving the undead of the chance to recruit further soldiers is a consideration that has to be considered.”

  “I agree Mr President,” the Secretary of Defence concurred.

  “No,” Ryan said, coughing again. “Such a thing should only b
e a last resort. Besides, what if you kill infected people. Won’t they just come back as these things?”

  “A calculated risk based on present infection spread,” Roberts stated.

  “I will not go down as the President who gassed millions of my own citizens. I’ll hear no more about poisoning civilians, not now.” He could just see the images in his head, whole streets filled with people clawing at their necks as the nerve agents choked the life out of them. Whole communities stripped of life, the outrage of the survivors deafening. Ryan even felt that if he did what the Generals were asking, he would lose much of the military. It would be their relatives and friends the nerve agents would ultimately be killing. There had to be another way.

  “Very good Mr President.” Roberts was not about to usurp the command of the democratically elected leader. At least not yet. Standing there looking at a President he actually had some respect for, General Roberts managed to resist the urge to cough.

  23.08.19

  Manchester, UK

  Midnight came and went.

  The biggest problem had so far been his need to keep up appearances so that his madness would not be uncovered. Renfield didn’t consider what he was suffering as madness, it was just a yearning that could no longer be denied. There was so much he had to do, and none of it could be done if his true intentions were uncovered. The waiting around when he wasn’t on his shift was like an addict going through withdrawal. In essence, he supposed that was exactly what he now was.