Omega Virus_Beta Hour

by Jake A. Strife

  Bob’s wife's stood beside him, even in undeath. I swallowed hard and backed up. What had caused the Corpse infection? A mad scientist? Space radiation? An ancient unearthed virus? If someone caused it, I wanted to be the one to pull that trigger.

  I turned and rushed down the hall as fast as I could. I didn’t need to look in any of the windows; they were all the same. As I went, I did see inside a few, wanting to or not. One such room, had mostly nude women, with a few in scantily clad stripper outfits. I shook my head in disgust. The rooms just kept getting more horrible. I could only hope Kessa didn't show up in one.

  More than thirty rooms down, just when the pounding and howling undead almost broke me, I came to the final door at the end. This one didn’t have windows and rose open as I approached.

  Inside stood a desk with a hologram computer screen and glowing red keyboard on its surface. The temperature didn't improve here. I glanced around the rest of the room. The walls were metallic, with symbols carved every few feet. I found a giant V with an Omega symbol engraved into the floor.

  At the desk, the hologram monitor turned to face me. As I tried stepping around the sides of the desk, the monitor continued to move, always facing me.

  “Hello?” I asked.

  “Hello.” A man’s voice repeated, sounding very much like a British butler.

  “Are you real?” I asked.

  “Definition of real: Adjective: actually existing as a thing or occurring in fact; not imagined or supposed.”

  I nodded. “Okay, are you an A.I.?”

  “Affirmative, sir.” The voice said. “Allow me to perform an identification scan.”

  “Wait, what?” I asked.

  “Voice analyzed.” It said. “Profile found. You are Zachary Mastiff. Student at Milpeg Senior High School. Sixteen years of age. Status: Single. Hobbies include Video Games, Watching girls from afar, viewing adult rated material on various websites, average time on each site--”

  “Blah blah blah!” I cried, shoving my fingers in my ears. “Stop speaking! Blah blah blah!”

  “Affirmative Mr. Mastiff.” It said.

  My face burned red, even in the cold temperatures. What kind of computer kept track of me? Did it know everything? Again, I seemed to be of importance I didn't understand.

  “What’s your name and purpose?” I asked.

  “My programmer named me Leon.”

  “Okay, Leon,” I said. “So you look up info?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know about me?” I asked, wishing I had stayed off of social media.

  “Searching.”

  I nodded and blew into my palms, trying to keep warm.

  “Searching. Files found.” Leon said.

  “Then tell me.”

  “Files have been altered. Most of the data files have been removed. Only the skeletal structure of a basic data block remains. One word. A name actually.”

  “What's the name?”

  “Beauregard.” Leon said.

  Beauregard? It sounded familiar, and it felt like a deja vu. “Who is Beauregard?”

  “No profile found.”

  I frowned. “Damn. Why is that name related to me?”

  “Files found in relation,” Leon said.

  My eyes popped. “Tell me!”

  “There are two files. One audio. One video.” Leon said. “Select file to load.”

  “The video!”

  “Loading Video File dated June 2. Year unknown. The video has not been modified.”

  A screen rose into the air and spread out encompasses the entire room in a 3D projection. The room looked familiar as if I'd been there before. It had two beds; one normal, and one with side boards painted to look like a racecar. A bathroom and a staircase were the only exits to the room. An old, fat, rounded TV sat on a table, and beneath it, a video game console.

  “Play video!” I said.

  The TV came on, and the game console hummed with life. On the screen were big letters reading, ‘PLAYER ONE PAUSE.'

  From behind me, a girl spoke.

  “Press Start!” She grumbled.

  I froze, afraid to turn around.

  “I said ‘Press Start!’.” She said impatiently. “Unpause the game or else!”

  I heard a boy’s voice then. “But I’m not any good! You always beat me!”

  “If you don’t press the stupid Start Button right now! I am going home!” she screamed.

  That voice could belong to only one girl, and I'd heard a similar conversation before.

  “Okay, Zachary! I’m going home! You’re no fun at all!”

  The fuzzy memory from my dream played out before me.

  “Please don’t!” the boy said. “I just need to look up some codes.”

  “I’ll give you one last chance.” Her voice raised. “If you want to be my boyfriend, press start and play the game! Stop being such a coward!”

  I turned around and stared, incredulous.

  Sitting on the floor against one large pillow were two children. The boy sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top, and the girl wore an oversized t-shirt as a nightgown. She had her long blonde hair even then and still wore that same black baseball cap. How many years had she had that thing? The boy in the video had to be me. We looked about ten years old.

  I watched her drop the game controller and pull his away from him. He grabbed for it, and she giggled, holding him back with one arm. He struggled, and they fell onto the bed wrestling around, and at one point she landed on top of him and pecked him on the lips. They sprung away from one other and sat aside facing opposite ways. They both blushed. Of course, they would, they were just ten. I became witness to young love in its earliest form. Even though this hologram showed me the reality of my dream, I still felt confused. I had no memories of the event.

  “Do you like me?” Tiffany asked the boy.

  “Actually, I think--I think I love you.” He mumbled.

  I fell back onto my heels, had I just said that?

  “I knew it!” she smiled wide.

  “You did?” he stammered.

  “You have to promise me something.” Tiffany took Zach’s hands.

  “Anything!” he grinned.

  “When you get back from your uncle’s place. Find me. And if the zombies ever come, like in our games, you’ll come to my rescue!”

  “I promise! I’ll never forget.” he hugged her tight.

  “Zach!” a man’s voice called from the hallway. “Are you packed for tomorrow? It’s a long trip to Rockport!”

  Then the video faded, and the cold and empty room sat before me again.

  “But I did forget,” I whispered. “I forgot all of this. And was that my Uncle? Why was he taking me to Rockport--A trip I also don’t remember.”

  “No data found.” Leon said. “Would you like to listen to the audio file?”

  I hadn't digested what I had just seen. How could I have forgotten? What happened after I went to Rockport?

  “What’s the title of the file?” I asked.

  “The G.O.D. Report.”

  I peered at the hologram projection. “The what?”

  “The G.O.D. Report,” Leon repeated.

  “Play file.”

  The stereo sound filled the room as Leon announced, “The G.O.D. Report: Authored by Beauregard White.”

  That name again.

  “December 24.” A man’s deep voice spoke. “I have been in contact with G.O.D. for one month now. I don’t care about the riches I have been offered. I care that it has something to do with a viral outbreak. G.O.D. doesn't want any secrets revealed. There is still much to learn, but I fear I do not have the time. G.O.D. has a sick plan. Not only are the soldiers here to bring in any and all survivors, collecting them under one roof. But the orders are to put them in stasis, for what reasons I cannot say, but I don't like the idea of any of this.

  Wayne is an evil man. That is all I can say. He brought in more survivors this morning. A girl and two boys. And the Link Brigad
e is out again as we speak looking for more victims.

  If they don’t find the living, they will bring back more Level Ones. I fear the massing of all of these undead. What good does it bring? Are we to experiment on them? To find a cure? If that were the case, I would stay and do my damnedest to fix things, to save the human race. But G.O.D. seems to have other plans, and Wayne is fixated on being a pawn; by extension, the President of our once proud country is as well.

  I act as if I do not see the soldiers in black entering the facility late at night, bringing in the crates of who knows what? Am I not the lead scientist here? Do I not deserve to know? I can only speculate what is inside.

  Nothing I do to the virus has any effect! It truly is unlike anything I've ever seen. The Level Ones are bad enough. They spread the infection through scratches, bites and bodily fluids, but at least they are slow, weak and stupid. That hasn’t stopped them from covering the country in just one week. But does G.O.D. care? No. G.O.D. embraces the undead.

  My time is limited unless I get to Rockport. I almost had come up with a cure, and I needed a subject already infected with the virus. I refused to use any survivors as guinea pigs, so I used myself. I allowed one of the Level Ones to bite me. It was minor, but I feel it in my veins. I had to do so in a controlled environment. Thankfully Rockport isn’t too far.

  Are you ready, Leon? When you’ve finished downloading and deleting the related data, I’ll sync you, and I will see you in Rockport.

  I may have to go up against G.O.D., but I am confident he's given me allies, by accident, all to save himself. There’s still hope.

  This is Beauregard closing The God Report part 1. Part 2 will be recorded in Rockport, should I make it.”

  I waited for a few seconds after it ended and tried to contemplate everything. The scientist, Beauregard, meant to go up against God for a cure? To save the human race? What did he mean?

  “God?” I whispered.

  “G.O.D.,” Leon said, “An acronym with an unknown description.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. The AI had just cleared things up.

  “Tell me anything you know about G.O.D.”

  “No information found.”

  I sighed, of course.

  Nothing else in the room looked of use. I'd found no answers, only more questions. I hissed a string of curses. I wanted to know more about Tiffany, my uncle, and Beauregard.

  I sighed, falling to my knees. “I don’t remember Tiffany, but I remember Jessie. What's going on? Where do the timelines connect?”

  “Jessie found.” Leon said.

  One of the many silver panels in the wall slid up. A thick glass panel blocked the view of human shapes swishing past on a moving belt. A blurred figure appeared behind the glass, and it opened. A girl fell out. I walked around the desk to find Jessie lying in a heap, completely naked.

  “Oh my god, Jessie!” I cried.

  I fell to my knees and held her against my chest. She still breathed but shivered violently. I held her as tight as I could, keeping her warm.

  “Z-Zach?” She mumbled.

  “Jessie! You're really alive! Thank the Gaming Gods!”

  “I’m freezing!” she whispered as she opened her blue eyes. “What’s going on?”

  I looked back at Leon. “I’ll get you something! Clothes. She needs clothes!”

  “Clothes found.” the AI said.

  From another wall panel, a drawer opened, and white scrubs popped out produced.

  “Hold on,” I said.

  I scooped up the scrubs and brought them to her. She tried to stand, but struggled and fell over so I pulled the scrub top over her, my hand grazed a breast, and I panicked, nearly dropping her. She whimpered, and I pulled myself together. I got the pants on her, but there were no shoes or socks. When I pulled the left pant leg down, I froze at her ankle.

  I'd found something terrible; something that made my eyes overflow with tears.

  LEVEL 16 – ERROR

  Jessie's ankle had a bite wound; it'd stopped bleeding, but the flesh around the broken skin had turned gray, and green veins spidered up her leg. In our time apart, she'd been bitten.

  Full-fledged tears poured from my eyes. “Jessie, how?”

  In a delirium, she tried to stand, over and over, but kept falling. Finally, she collapsed back into my arms. She tried to pull away, but I wrapped her in a tight hug and held her to my chest.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

  “It’s not your fault.” Jessie hugged me back, still shivering.

  In my mind's eye, I could see Tiffany standing in the sewer, bitten. In her case, I'd given her a gun to kill herself. Could I do that again? Had I come so far just to see Jessie die?

  I gripped Jessie tightly, refusing to let her go. “Tiffany was also bitten.”

  “S-She’s gone?” Jessie gasped.

  I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I didn’t want to admit it, because if I did, it would become real.

  “I see.” She said and pulled back to look at me.

  A soft sob escaped my throat when our eyes met. I never should’ve left Jessie at the game studio. I felt so guilty for making out with Kessa; I felt so stupid for never speaking to Jessie after the birthday incident.

  “I found your letter.” I ran my hand through her hair.

  She put her head against my chest. “I’ve wanted you to know how I’ve felt all these years. I never blamed you for anything, and I had to make sure you knew before--before--”

  She coughed, and I tensed. “Don’t talk like that. This isn’t the end.”

  “Soon,” she said.

  I couldn’t hold back any longer; I thrust my lips against hers, and I'd never felt a more magical, yet tragic moment. A new level of elation came as we held the kiss, eyes closed tight, but when I opened mine, mid-kiss, hers were already open and looked scared. I pulled back.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  She gasped. “You can't kiss me! I’m infected! I could spread the virus to you!”

  “I don’t care,” I said.

  She grabbed my shirt collar and twisted. “Don’t throw your life away! It’s the most precious thing in the world, especially now.”

  I shook my head, but she reached up and wiped her saliva from my lips. Could life be any crueler? I had come so far to find Jessie so that I could set things right, and tell her I wanted to be with her. Love had driven me, despite having Kessa by my side. But what could I do? How could anything be resolved?

  Jessie would soon die. Between the three girls, I never actually had a choice. Tiffany and Jessie were victims of the virus. Somehow I had to accept Jessie and I would never be together.

  “How did it happen?” I asked.

  Jessie sat down against the wall, moving her feet together to keep them warm. I took them in my hands and rubbed them.

  She said. “Please don’t stop. Your hands are so warm.”

  “I won’t,” I promised. “I owe you this and more.”

  Jessie smiled, but then she hung her head. “I’ll start from the beginning, I guess. I just hope I have enough time.”

  “Then hurry,” I said, feeling her soft, yet freezing skin under my fingertips.

  She playfully kicked me. “Okay, but careful. I’m ticklish.”

  I smiled through my tears.

  “Dave, Jeff and I were worried after you left. The Corpses were growing in numbers. Everyone always knew my favorite genre was survival horror, and I loved killing zombies.”

  “I didn’t.” I felt guilty.

  She smiled. “It’s okay. Even in D&D! Imagine? I controlled the dead and created zombies. I was Shamil Ningel Necroglem, the mighty priestess necromancer.”

  “You played D&D?” I asked. “Sacrifice any chickens?”

  She giggled. “No, silly! That’s a misconception. No one playing D&D has ever sacrificed a chicken, probably anyway.”

  I smiled. “Survival horror was one of my favorites too. Although once I was so scared I scratched the di
sc so no one else could play it.”

  “That’s so not-gamer like!” She kicked me again. “You’re awful!”

  I laughed. “And if I played D&D, I would want to be an alchemist. I'd name him Azteron. Could I be a minotaur?”

  “Up to the Dungeon Master.” She sobered after a moment. “Back to my story. Jeff ended up finding a secret cache of weapons in one of the offices. They really had been preparing for a zombie apocalypse. We took turns going and trying to pick them off from the 2nd floor using a rifle. It was going fine, and actually was a lot of fun. I was out shooting with Jeff, and Dave stayed in the lobby keeping watch. Next think you know I spotted a man dressed something like Wesley, walking amongst the Corpses. This guy wasn’t one of them, but they all just ignored him! He looked pretty cool I have to admit, with a long black trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. What would cause a zombie to ignore someone?

  She continued. “He came right to the hand scanner outside and put his hand on it. I thought he was nuts. But the door opened, and the zombies flooded in. I heard Dave downstairs screaming his head off. He ran upstairs to where Jeff and I were sitting. That’s when we called you guys. The man attacked Dave, and he ran, but not without taking a hit first.

  There was a lot of chaos. Jeff wanted to find the trench coat man and beat the crap out of him. But I wanted to go. Dave was hurt, and we needed to get as far from the Corpses as we could. Before we could get out, the man found us. He didn’t say much, but his presence was something else. He had long white hair and grayish skin like one of them. He could have spooked the virus out of a zombie. All we could get out of him was what he called himself.”

  “Which was?” I asked.

  “His name was Dante, and he was looking for Wesley. I aimed my rifle ready to kill him, but I couldn’t. I was so terrified; I froze. Then he left promising he would see all of us again.”

  I shook my head. If someone had the ability to walk among the Corpses and not even draw attention, could he be behind everything? Things were getting thicker than I ever imagined. Wesley, Serenade, and Wayne were confusing enough. Nothing really added up, but I had a feeling I'd missed a key element. The fact that Dante wanted to find Wesley said enough. There were so many pieces to the puzzle. Maybe I would have to find this Dante.