H7N9: The Complete Series [Books 1-3]

by Campbell, Mark

  Teddy wiped the fevered sweat from his forehead and turned his head towards the cell door.

  “CO!” Teddy yelled hoarsely.

  He broke out in a bout of fresh coughs.

  After several minutes of waiting he heard keys jingling as a guard approached his cell.

  Johannes peered down at him through the door’s narrow window wearing an N-95 mask.

  “You’re not looking so hot, Sanders,” Johannes said with amusement. He glanced up at Andy’s corpse. “Neither is your friend. Sorry about the smell, but the soldiers stopped bothering to collect the dead.”

  “I need to see a doctor,” Teddy said as he stared down at the floor, panting and dizzy.

  Johannes laughed.

  “Sure, I’ll get right on that for you. Is there anything else you’d like?” Johannes asked.

  Teddy shook his head in frustration. Stands of saliva dribbled from his bottom lip and mucus hung from his nostrils.

  “Please…” Teddy said in a quiet voice. “Don’t let me die like this… I know you don’t like me, but don’t let me waste away like an animal. Get me a doctor…”

  Johannes stared at Teddy for several seconds and watched him gasp for air. A few other inmates were banging against their cell doors, crying and pleading for help, but Teddy had the man’s undivided sadistic attention. Judging by the look on his face, he was enjoying seeing Teddy in such a state.

  “There are no doctors, Sanders. The fact is, you’re going to die. Before the news stations started shutting off, they finally came clean and said that this thing has an eighty-five to ninety percent mortality rate. I know you’re all fucked up with fever, but can you imagine? Can your simple mind even do the math? Let me save you the trouble and just let you know that the odds aren’t in your favor. You’ll end up choking on your mucus and dying in your own filth. I’ve watched most of the unit die… It’s slow and painful. Pitiful, really,” Johannes said as he shook his head. He pulled the revolver he had tucked away underneath his waistband and tapped the barrel against the glass. “The only thing I could do to help you is to hasten your trip to meet your maker. Would you like me to do that for you, Sanders? Would you like me to cut the bullshit and just put you out of your misery?”

  Teddy wiped the sweat off of his face with his dirty hand and leaned his head against the wall as he closed his eyes.

  “Do what you have to do,” Teddy said in a raspy voice.

  Johannes cocked the hammer of the revolver back.

  “I can do that, but first I need you to do something for me.”

  “What?”

  “I need you to beg,” Johannes said with a big grin. “Beg me to kill you.”

  Teddy kept his eyes closed as he slowly shook his head.

  “Just do it,” Teddy muttered. “Just do it if you’re going to do it.”

  “That wasn’t very convincing begging, Sanders,” Johannes said as he slid the revolver back under his belt. “You know what? I think I’ll go ahead and just enjoy watching you waste away. I’m sure those cops you killed in Texas wouldn’t mind if I let you suffer for the few hours that you have left.”

  Johannes walked away.

  “Wait! Please!” Teddy shouted, coughing loudly. He balled his fist and slammed it against the cell door repeatedly. “Just do it! Goddammit, just end it already! Please! Please!”

  Johannes never returned.

  Teddy let out a raspy sigh and sank back against the wall. He opened his eyes and stared ahead, blankly.

  Minutes turned into hours.

  Teddy ebbed in and out of consciousness.

  Suddenly the overhead light went dark and air stopped flowing out of the vent.

  Startled, Teddy looked towards the window and watched the high-mast lights go out one by one.

  He heard shouting and sporadic bursts of automatic gunfire throughout the compound.

  An hour passed in darkness.

  Even as fever consumed him, Teddy stared at the dead light and couldn’t help but wonder if Tucson’s power plant was manned anymore. Surely if things were falling apart inside the prison, the outside world couldn’t be doing much better.

  Moments later, the ceiling light flickered back to life and one by the one the orange lights outside started glowing again. Teddy heard the large rooftop HVAC machines rumble back to life as power was restored to the institution. Warm air started to churn weakly out of the vents once again.

  The cell was swelteringly hot, but Teddy wrapped his arms around his chest and shivered.

  Exhaustion and pain consumed him as he struggled to breathe.

  His ears rang and his head throbbed.

  His vision was blurry and his limbs felt numb.

  He knew that his time was up.

  Resigning himself to die, Teddy leaned his head back and closed his eyes as beads of sweat rolled down his pale face.

  CHAPTER 7

  NOVEMBER 12th

  Teddy opened his eyes and sat up on the floor. He coughed violently as thick strings of mucus shot out of his mouth and splattered on the floor. He reached up and massaged his swollen neck as his coughing fit eventually subsided.

  Wheezing, he leaned his head back against the cold concrete wall and stared up at the ceiling light.

  He didn’t hear the other inmates banging and shouting anymore.

  An hour passed with no sound other than his own labored breaths and a persistent rattling cough coming from the middle of the cellblock.

  Teddy listened to the coughing as it grew worse and worse. Using one hand to support himself against the wall, he slowly stood up and looked out the cell door window.

  Johannes was sitting on the floor in the middle of unit surrounded by red biohazard bins. His powerless Motorola radio sat beside him. His thick glasses were askew on his pale face and his uniform was soaked with sweat. Old vomit covered the front of his shirt and was smeared around his mouth. The revolver that he used to intimidate Teddy earlier sat on his lap.

  Johannes stared down at the gun with red eyes, fighting and gasping for every breath. He picked it up and stared at it as tears streamed down his cheeks.

  Teddy sat back down and closed his eyes.

  A few minutes later a single gunshot reverberated through the unit.

  Teddy started at the sound and opened his eyes. He lifted his head and looked around; he no longer heard Johannes’ nagging cough. He didn’t have to look out of the window to figure out what happened.

  He closed his eyes again and eventually slipped back into an uneasy dreamless slumber.

  CHAPTER 8

  NOVEMBER 13th

  Teddy woke up with a start, at the sound of the food trap slamming open.

  Teddy turned his attention towards the door just in time to see a plastic food tray full of cereal being flung inside the room.

  The tray struck the floor and stale bran flakes scattered everywhere.

  “Hey! Wait! CO!” Teddy shouted, coughing. He pushed himself away from the wall and crawled towards the door. He looked up at the window and stopped.

  Instead of a guard, a soldier wearing a gas mask stared down at Teddy. He was wearing full combat gear and a thick ballistic vest. The man’s clear respirator was foggy and his bloodshot eyes looked tired.

  The soldier took out a can of orange spray paint, shook it, and then sprayed something on the outside of Teddy’s door.

  “Please! Just open the door and let me–”

  “Eat up,” the soldier interrupted, voice muffled by his mask. He nodded towards Andy’s corpse. “Otherwise you’ll end up like your friend.”

  The soldier slammed the trap shut, locked it, and walked away pushing a squeaky aluminum cart stacked with food trays.

  Teddy managed to get on his knees, knock the spilled tray across the cell, and repeatedly struck the door with his fist.

  “Goddammit!” Teddy yelled as he pounded against the door. “You can’t do this! Do you hear me!? You can’t leave me here to die! I’m not an animal!”

 
; Teddy sank back to the ground as a violent bout of coughs overcame him. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and into his eyes, stinging and burning. His vision began to blur and he became lightheaded. Groaning, he closed his eyes and waited for his breathing to even out.

  The smell of Andy’s putrid corpse was beginning to overpower his senses.

  Teddy slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Andy.

  Fly larvae were crawling across the man’s face and his eyes were hollowed out. Roaches covered the corpse and burrowed inside his open mouth. His grotesque arm hung over the edge of the bed, but it had become black and swollen from collected blood and fluid. The fingertips had started to crack open and black gore dribbled down onto Teddy’s bunk.

  Disgusted, he looked away; he couldn’t return to his bed even if he wanted to.

  Teddy turned his attention towards the outside window.

  The sun was starting to set – staining the sky a vivid shade of orange and red.

  He had no idea that he had slept through most of the day, but then again- he had lost all semblance of time, days ago.

  Teddy took a deep, rattling breath; the congestion in his chest felt looser and his coughing had somewhat subsided; it was easier to breathe now.

  Without Johannes’ coughing, an eerie silence lingered throughout the unit. The other inmates didn’t make a peep and he couldn’t help but wonder just how many were still alive.

  For all Teddy knew, he could be the only one still breathing.

  Eventually he knew that the soldiers would leave and forget about him. Locked away without food, even if he survived the sickness - his death sentence was still inevitable.

  Sighing, he stared outside and watched the darkening sky.

  Minutes turned into hours.

  Teddy’s eyelids grew heavy.

  An old-fashioned emergency hand-spun air raid siren started wailing outside.

  Curious, Teddy forced himself to stand. Shuffling slowly with his hand on the wall for support, he inched his way towards the window and looked outside.

  Four generator-powered military spotlights mounted on the housing unit roofs switched on and the soldiers operating the lights focused their beams on a pale guard with a shiny bald head. Teddy recognized him as the officer who had escorted him back to the unit from SHU: Henderson. He was running and carrying a box of military MREs.

  Two soldiers wearing gasmasks and carrying M-16s chased after him.

  Henderson appeared terrified as he kept looking over his shoulder at the soldiers closing the distance. He tossed the MREs aside and started sprinting.

  He made it about thirty yards before one of the masked soldiers brought his rifle to his shoulder and fired a burst of automatic gunfire.

  Henderson was flung forward onto the pavement as the bullets penetrated his back.

  As Henderson tried to crawl away, both soldiers slowly advanced towards him - their weapons ready.

  Henderson rolled over – lying on his back. Blood bubbled out from in-between his lips. He stared at the soldiers and held a shaky hand up, pleading.

  One of the soldiers pointed his rifle at Henderson’s forehead and fired a single shot.

  His head burst open and slathered the ground with gore.

  The soldier slung the rifle back over his shoulder while the other one picked up the box of MREs. Both of them turned around and calmly walked back towards one of the units.

  The searchlights powered down and the siren stopped wailing.

  Teddy stepped fearfully away from the window and stumbled backward against the sink. He erupted in a coughing fit and sank to the floor, with his back pressed against the door. He stared ahead with wide-eyes as a daunting realization struck him; nobody, not even his keepers, were getting out of the prison alive. It was a truth that he had tried ignoring, but it was impossible to not acknowledge it when the very men who once held the keys were getting shot with impunity. Whatever rules USP Tucson used to operate on, no longer existed.

  The overhead light suddenly went out.

  A sudden silence spread across the compound as the HVAC systems shut down and the high-mast lights died.

  Soldiers shouted briefly, a few gunshots went off, and the generator-powered searchlights were turned back on. The searchlight beams scanned the prison courtyard and passed across the sides of the housing units.

  Once again Teddy found himself with no light and no air conditioning.

  Hours passed and Teddy waited, but the power never came back on. Periodically one of the beams would pass his window and bathe the cell with harsh white light. As he sat and waited, he heard more gunshots and shouting coming from outside, but his unit was eerily quiet inside.

  He felt like an animal trapped in a cage, left to die, forgotten by the world.

  Teddy looked down at his knuckles, bruised from striking the cell door, and watched as his hands trembled. It would be tempting to give up, close his eyes, and just die.

  No, he thought with fierce determination. I’m not going to die this way. He balled his fists and stared ahead defiantly. Never this way. He decided to risk it and make his move. As soon as somebody opened the door, he’d make a run for it. He’d rather die from a bullet than die from fear and hunger.

  Teddy stared ahead, folded his hands on his lap, and waited.

  CHAPTER 9

  NOVEMBER 14th

  Teddy gasped for breath. His eyes fluttered open and his vision cleared, slowly. He found himself on the floor, slouched against the toilet. The electricity was still out and the air inside the cell was stagnant, humid, and hot. Sunlight poured in through the cell’s window.

  He was drenched in sweat, but it didn’t feel like the cold clammy fever sweat that he had been experiencing.

  He forced himself to sit up. Surprisingly, his chest felt lighter and the soreness in his throat had subsided.

  A buzzard sat perched on the outside window sill. It stared inside the cell with its feathers ruffled and started pecking at the glass.

  Groggy and weak, Teddy slowly got up on his feet.

  As soon as Teddy moved, the buzzard flew away, startled.

  Teddy lurched towards the sink and stared at himself in the streaked mirror.

  The swelling around his neck was practically gone and his face had color again.

  Teddy rubbed his throat and stared at his reflection in complete disbelief. He turned on the tap, lowered his head, and drank the lukewarm water greedily.

  As he drank, the water pressure slowed to a trickle.

  Teddy put his mouth around the tap and kept drinking.

  Suddenly, the water tasted like metallic dirt.

  Teddy gagged, pulled his head back, and spat the brown water into the sink. The water coming from the tap looked like mud. The trickle slowed to a drip and eventually stopped altogether.

  “Great,” Teddy said as he turned the tap on and off to no avail. He looked around the cell, thinking. With no water and no food, he had no hope of survival.

  Teddy walked to the cell door window and looked out into the unit. All of the lights were out and the sally port doors were open. Trash was piled high in the center of the unit and the floor was covered with rats. Johannes’ body was covered by a blue tarp and two rows of inmate corpses were stacked neatly in front of the abandoned guard’s station. Most of the cell doors had red ‘X’s spray-painted on them, but there were a few that had red ‘O’s sprayed instead. The unit was full of death.

  He turned around and hobbled towards the other window to look outside. The stench wafting from the bunk was rancid; he made it a point not to look in Andy’s direction.

  Black smoke billowed from the direction of the recreation yard. The rooftop snipers and the soldiers manning the searchlights were gone. Every unit had its sally port doors open and black crows circled overhead.

  As he stared out the window and looked around, he realized that he was probably the only one in the compound.

  He’d waste away in that cell.

  Teddy k
new that he had to escape if he hoped to survive. He also knew that it was impossible to break through a steel cell door.

  His only option would be to shatter the safety glass of the narrow outside window, knock off the security bars, and use some bedsheets to shimmy down the side of the unit.

  Teddy looked around the cell and tried to find something, anything, which he could use to break the glass. He stared down at the iron stool that was bolted to the floor in front of the small desk.

  It’d be difficult, but he was out of options.

  Teddy grabbed the stool with both hands and tried to shake it, but the bolts were welded tight and it didn’t move. He plopped down on the floor, pressed his back against the wall, and started kicking both feet against the stool as hard as he could.

  It took six solid blows before one of the welds broke and the stool leaned askew.

  Teddy let out a series of hacking coughs, and stumbled back up on his feet. He grabbed the stool and started shaking it; the stool wobbled, but the other welds managed to hold.

  Aggravated and winded, Teddy stood on top of the small steel table and started stomping on the stool.

  The final welds snapped, the bolts tore up from the cement, and the stool fell to the ground.

  As soon as the stool gave, Teddy lost his balance and fell off the table. He landed hard on the concrete and sent the stool sliding across the cell.

  Teddy ignored the pain and scrambled back on his feet. He picked up the stool and slammed it against the glass.

  The glass shattered and sprayed shards in all directions across the cell.

  He shielded his eyes with his arm and stepped back.

  A warm breeze entered through the window and carried the stench of burning hair and flesh.

  Teddy used the bottom of the stool to knock away the remaining shards out of the window frame.

  Only four narrow bars stood between him and the outside.

  He grabbed one of the bars and shook it. Horror washed over his face when he realized that the bars weren’t simply bolted to the outside; they fed down into the concrete and were encased in the building’s structure.