H7N9: The Complete Series [Books 1-3]

by Campbell, Mark

  His eyes widened and he shook his head.

  Goddammit, he thought as his mind raced, panicked. He took the stool and helplessly swung it against the bars repeatedly. No, come on, no!

  The bars didn’t give an inch.

  Aggravated, Teddy hurled the stool down against the floor in frustration.

  He knew that his chances of breaking through those reinforced bars with a stool were about as good as his chances of smashing down the steel cell door.

  Defeated, Teddy sat down on the floor and tried to catch his breath. He wiped the sweat off of his brow and stared down at the glass shards covering the floor.

  I’ll try again, he thought with determination. As soon as I’m done resting a bit, I’ll get up and try again.

  The day dragged on and the humid heat inside the cell became unbearable. Drops of moisture formed on the concrete walls and Teddy’s orange jumpsuit grew soaked with sweat.

  Teddy wanted to try taking the stool to the bars again, but he didn’t even have the strength to stand back up. He sat sprawled on the floor and waited for the heat to break.

  Relief finally came in the evening as the sun sank in the horizon and the bitter cold of the desert night crept into the cell.

  Teddy stayed huddled on the floor, teeth chattering. He felt lightheaded, hungry, and dehydrated. Eventually, he closed his eyes and slipped into unconsciousness.

  CHAPTER 10

  NOVEMBER 15th

  Teddy groaned and opened his eyes as he found himself sprawled out on the floor. His body felt stiff and sore. Sunlight was pouring in through the shattered window, and had turned his exposed skin a cherry red.

  He sat up and knocked off the small shards of glass that were stuck to his clothes and embedded in his skin. He looked down and noticed that he had been lying in a small puddle of his own sweat. The electricity was still out. The stuffy cell was already heating up despite the fact that the sun had probably not reached high noon yet.

  Raw thirst overpowered his gnawing hunger.

  Teddy looked towards the sink; he needed to drink something.

  Slowly and carefully, he got up on his feet and pressed a hand against the wall to support himself. To his surprise he had more strength than he did the day before and virtually all remnants of his flu were gone. Even the breaths he took felt full and clear.

  Teddy shuffled towards the sink and turned on the tap; a few brown drops of thick water dribbled out and then nothing at all. Dismayed, he looked down at the stagnant water in the toilet bowl. Most of the water had already evaporated and the rim of the bowl was encased with lime, but there was still some liquid inside.

  He got down on his knees, cupped his hands, and started scooping up handfuls of water out of the bowl.

  Teddy closed his eyes and drank.

  The water was slimy, hot, and had the sour taste of old urine.

  Despite the horrid aftertaste, he sucked down every last drop and licked his palms clean. He held back a gag, reached into the bowl, and took out another scoop of water.

  Behind him, a buzzard was perched on the window’s ledge. It peered inside, cocked its head to the side, and stared down at Teddy.

  Teddy turned to look up at the bird as toilet water dribbled down his chin.

  The buzzard opened its blood-smeared beak and let out a raspy, hissing sound. It squeezed between the bars, flew into the cell, and landed on top of Andy’s corpse. It dug its beak into his open mouth, grabbed hold of his tongue, and started thrashing its head back and forth, tugging.

  Teddy stared at the bird with revulsion. He wiped his chin off and got back on his feet.

  “Get out!” he shouted.

  The buzzard ignored him and tore out Andy’s lolling tongue. It raised its head and swallowed the rotten meat. It lowered its head and started digging its beak into Andy’s sunken eye sockets.

  Teddy bent over, picked up the stool, and hurled it at the buzzard.

  “Get out!” he shouted again.

  The stool missed the bird and struck the side of the bed.

  The buzzard flapped its oily wings, let out a hissing croak, and went back to gorging itself on Andy’s face.

  Enraged, Teddy reached for the stool again–

  Suddenly, a low-flying helicopter passed over the unit.

  The startled buzzard pulled its gore-slathered beak out of Andy and flew out of the window, cawing.

  Confused, Teddy walked towards the broken window and looked outside.

  He heard the helicopter hovering out of sight towards the direction of the parking lot.

  He looked at the ground below and saw three US Army soldiers wearing gas masks and carrying rifles marching into the adjacent housing unit’s open sally port with their weapons ready.

  Another group of soldiers ran into the housing unit across from it.

  Just as he considered calling out for help, he heard footsteps coming from inside the unit.

  Teddy turned around and hurried towards his cell door. He peered out through the narrow window slit.

  Two soldiers walked in through the sally port kicking old food trays out of the way. They stopped in the middle of the unit next to Johannes’ rotting corpse and scanned the darkened unit with the tactical light attached to their rifles.

  “Lemma-Actual to Charley Unit Command, once your men are in position you are free to enact all duties listed under Executive Order 17824,” a calm female voice coming through their radios announced.

  “Roger that, Lemma-Actual, my men are in position,” a gruff male voice responded. “Colonel Champ to Charley Unit, execute Clean-Sweep protocols. Clean-Sweep is a-go, I repeat, Clean-Sweep is a-go. Non-discretional fire is authorized. Sanitize the prison and then fall back to the stadium.”

  Teddy jumped as bursts of automatic gunfire popped off from all over the prison. His heart raced as he started to realize what was going on.

  The two soldiers down below started scanning the unit with their flashlights as they carefully examined the spray-painted markings on the cell doors.

  “There’s one,” one of the soldiers said, voice muffled by his mask. He had his light’s beam focused on one of the lower-tier cells marked with spray-paint.

  The soldiers advanced towards the cell; one brought his rifle to his shoulder and covered his partner while the other one fumbled with a large ring of keys.

  As soon as the soldier unlocked the door, a malnourished Hispanic inmate came staggering out towards him.

  The soldier holding the rifle fired a single shot.

  In an instant, the inmate’s head snapped to the side as blood and chunks of grey matter sprayed out of the other side. He collapsed on the floor and bled out.

  “Clear!” the soldier holding the keys said, as he peeked inside the open cell.

  The soldiers walked towards the next marked cell with their weapons ready.

  They unlocked it and swung the door open.

  A skeletal-looking man wearing defecated khakis crawled out of the cell, trembling and wheezing, barely able to move.

  The soldier carrying the rifle stepped forward, pointed the barrel at the back of the man’s head, and pulled the trigger.

  Gore splattered across the floor and the man collapsed.

  “Clear!”

  The soldiers scanned the unit again with their flashlights and one of their beams passed across Teddy’s cell.

  “Movement! Up there!”

  Teddy ducked away from the door’s window in a panic.

  One of the soldiers ran up the iron staircase with the ring of keys while the other man stood at the bottom floor and aimed his rifle at Teddy’s cell.

  Shouts and gunshots echoed loudly from one of the other nearby housing units.

  The soldier unlocked Teddy’s cell and started to pull on the handle–

  A shrill alarm sounded on their radios.

  “This is Foxtrot! Get some bodies over here in Delta! They still have some fight in them over here! They took us by surprise when we started popping d
oors!” a male voice cried over the radio. “They scattered like roaches! We need back up!”

  “Colonel Champ to available units, converge on Foxtrot’s location and neutralize those hostiles!”

  The soldier turned away from Teddy’s cell and ran with the others out of the unit as the gunfire intensified.

  Teddy’s heart raced as he kept his back pressed firmly against the wall and waited.

  Gunfire erupted all over the compound.

  After several minutes, Teddy pushed his heavy cell door open. Cautiously, he peeked outside.

  The air inside the stuffy unit was hazy from smoke and reeked of death and gunpowder.

  If he stayed, he knew that the soldiers would come back and finish what they had started; he knew that he had to get to safety, but he didn’t have the slightest clue as to where that might be.

  A mixed group of inmates all wearing khaki ran inside the unit while looking over their shoulders, terrified. The group scattered and ran off in different directions, many taking refuge in empty cells and ducking behind laundry carts.

  Teddy ducked back inside the cell and remained quiet.

  Either nobody saw him or they were all too preoccupied trying to save themselves.

  A helicopter buzzed low overhead and made the whole building shake; dust fell down from the steel rafters.

  It was inevitable; sooner or later, he knew that the soldiers would return.

  He had to get out of here.

  Teddy cautiously emerged from his cell and closed the door behind him. He stopped and looked around with dismay. Dirty mattresses and bins of soiled linin were piled up in front of the showers. Mice and roaches ran freely across the concrete floors while flies covered the walls. Two of the unit televisions had been shattered. The officer’s station was filled with cardboard boxes and had a makeshift clothesline strung at the doorway.

  It was unnerving to see a place that, for better or worse, had been his home, fall into such disrepair.

  He saw a few frightened faces peering up at him from the shadows.

  One inmate, a skinny Hispanic man who Teddy didn’t recognize, was crouched behind one of the overflowing laundry bins. He looked up at Teddy and frantically motioned for him to get back inside the cell.

  Gunshots ricocheted off the side of the building and caused more dust to come raining down from the ceiling.

  Teddy ducked and quickly made his way down the iron steps.

  He glanced down at Johannes’ covered corpse as he hurried towards the open sally port. Ants covered the dirty tarp and mice were squeaking underneath it.

  Just as he was about to walk away, a thought crossed his mind–

  The revolver.

  Teddy’s eyes lit up.

  Whatever was going on outside, he knew that a weapon would come in handy.

  Teddy stopped, bent over, and pulled the tarp off of the corpse.

  The stench of rot struck him hard.

  Gagging, he stepped back and peered down.

  Johannes’ skeletal face stared up at the ceiling as ants crawled all over his rotting flesh. Mice and maggots burrowed and moved underneath his leathery skin.

  Teddy held a hand over his nose and looked around, but he didn’t see the revolver that Johannes had used anywhere.

  Frustrated, Teddy covered the body back up and walked towards the sunlight-bathed sally port.

  “Don’t step out there, fool!” a black inmate hiding inside one of the open cells warned. The front of his shirt was covered with blood. “Those motherfucking jarheads will mow you down!”

  Teddy recognized the man as one of the food service workers who used to roll with Turtle’s crew.

  “I’d rather take my chances out there than wait to die in here,” Teddy said.

  As he approached the doorway, Teddy heard a radio squawk and the sound of returning footsteps–

  “Charley Unit Command to all units, sweep the area and neutralize remaining hostiles.”

  “Shit,” Teddy whispered as his stomach knotted. He stopped, turned, and abruptly ran towards the secure corridor.

  The secure corridor’s door was wide open.

  Teddy ducked inside and pulled the door shut behind him.

  The corridor was dark and hot. Beads of condensation covered the walls and the unit team office windows were fogged up. Yellow mop buckets full of sewage and dirty water were lined along the wall alongside burlap sacks of slacked lime.

  Behind him, gunshots echoed throughout the unit and he heard men crying out as bullets tore them apart.

  Panicked, Teddy opened Johannes’ office door and ran inside. He quickly closed the door behind him and tried to find a way to lock it.

  Something cold and metallic pressed against the back of his head.

  Teddy froze.

  “This spot is taken, brother,” the man behind him whispered. “I suggest you go find another hole to hide in.”

  Teddy recognized the man’s deep southern drawl.

  “Logan… I guess cockroaches really are resilient,” Teddy muttered.

  Logan grabbed Teddy by the shoulder, spun him around, and pinned him against the door.

  Teddy grunted and stared at the man.

  Logan, shirtless and pale, was barely recognizable; his once bald head was covered with strands of scraggly blonde hair and his body was covered with open sores and lacerations. His muscular frame had withered away and wrinkles covered his face.

  He held onto Johannes’ revolver and kept it pointed at Teddy’s chest.

  “If you know who I am then you know how stupid it is to talk to me like that. Who are you?” Logan asked.

  Teddy scowled and continued to stare into his bloodshot blue eyes without answering.

  Logan searched his face for several seconds; his eyes widened as soon as he recognized him.

  “It’s you…” Logan said as a smile slowly formed across his cracked lips. “Teddy, right? You’re that cocky motherfucker who has been giving my lieutenant and his boys so much trouble…”

  “Do you mean Darrel? I don’t reckon I’m giving him too much trouble anymore,” Teddy said with amusement. “Last I remember, he went tumbling headfirst off of the second tier. It seems as if his days of worrying are behind him now.”

  Logan lost his smile. He pressed the barrel of the revolver against Teddy’s forehead and cocked back the hammer.

  Teddy frowned.

  “I ought to put a bullet in your head right here and now,” Logan growled. “Hell, I should’ve done it the first time you stepped out of line all those years back.”

  “Yeah, you probably should’ve,” Teddy said tensely, “but you won’t.” He paused. “That revolver has five shots left in it, and that’s if you’re lucky. You’ll need every last one. You won’t waste the ammo to settle an old score.”

  Logan pressed the barrel harder against Teddy’s forehead.

  Teddy winced from the pain, but he didn’t break eye contact.

  “Who said anything about wasting a bullet?” Logan asked with a devious grin that revealed his rotting front teeth.

  Before Teddy realized what he was about to do, Logan had struck him across the forehead with the butt of the revolver.

  Momentarily stunned by the pistol-whip, Teddy fell backwards and slid down the door. An open gash formed across his forehead and dribbled blood down his forehead.

  Logan laughed and tucked the revolver in his waistband.

  Teddy reached for Logan’s legs to bring him down, but Logan stepped back and kicked him in the chest.

  Teddy collapsed backwards on the floor.

  Logan crouched down, wrapped both hands around Teddy’s throat, and squeezed.

  Teddy gurgled and his face turned red as his eyes started to protrude from his skull. He reached up and tried to pry Logan’s calloused hands off of him, but the man’s grip was unrelenting.

  Logan gazed down into Teddy’s eyes in a furious rage, as he squeezed harder.

  Just as his world started to fade to black, Te
ddy reached up and dug his thumbs into Logan’s eyes.

  Logan howled out in pain. He let go of Teddy’s neck and recoiled.

  Teddy shoved the man off him and gasped for breath. Long strands of saliva hung from his lips. He rolled over onto his side and searched around the floor desperately for some type of weapon.

  A metal stapler was lying on the floor along with scattered papers.

  Teddy crawled towards the stapler, picked it up, and turned towards Logan–

  Logan got up on his knees. He squinted with bloodshot eyes, drew his revolver, and pointed it at Teddy–

  Both men froze as muffled voices echoed from the secure corridor’s doorway.

  “I thought I heard something… Did anyone check that hall?”

  “Not yet, sir, no.”

  Logan scrambled to his feet and moved towards the door while keeping his weapon pointed squarely at Teddy. He opened the door, stuck his head out to check the corridor, and then glared at Teddy as water ran down his cheeks from his swollen eyelids.

  “You better hope that those soldiers kill you,” Logan whispered. “If I catch you again, you’ll wish they did.”

  Logan raised his foot and kicked over one of Johannes’ filing cabinets.

  The cabinet crashed against the floor and flung vanilla folders all across the floor.

  “There! I heard it again! Thompson! Go check out that hall!”

  “Sir, yes, sir!”

  Logan ducked and ran out of the office in the opposite direction of the soldiers: towards the adjacent housing unit.

  In the distance Teddy heard the sally port’s metallic door fling open.

  “Goddammit…” Teddy muttered. He staggered back up onto his feet and limped towards the open office door.

  He froze as a flashlight beam scanned the darkened corridor and the sound of jingling equipment drew near.

  Teddy moved out of the doorway, hid behind the open door, and pressed his back against the wall. He stood very still, waiting.

  The office brightened as the soldier slowly stepped inside the doorway and scanned the room with the light attached to his weapon.

  The soldier breathed heavily through his foggy gasmask. A thick rubber gasket sealing the mask narrowed his field of vision considerably.