The Amygdala Syndrome (Book 1): Unstable

by Hunt, Jack

  “What the hell are they doing?”

  “It’s the disease. They go through different stages. It affects the memory, their anxiety and fear. In the early hours it causes some to be frozen by fear itself, others react,” he said pointing to different ones lashing out at others around them. “I don’t know everything about how it affects them, only what we were told and my own observations. Within twelve hours their skin and eyes change, and they become extremely violent, driven by fear itself. Seeing everything and everyone around them as a threat. Before that they are unstable, shifting back and forth between extreme fear and an unusually calm state. That’s the most dangerous time. You don’t know what to expect, you might not know if they’re infected,” he said glancing at Emerick as if apologizing without saying it.

  “But the entire school can’t be surrounded. We got in here on the north side.”

  “Yeah, maybe you lucked out, so why are you here now?”

  “Well, there was…” Emerick trailed off realizing he was walking right into the obvious.

  Chad pulled away. “I need to get a gun.”

  “You’ve been here all this time and you didn’t search for one?”

  His brow furrowed. “No, I was too busy trying to avoid them. I didn’t know what the hell was going on down below. The last time I saw it, it was a bloodbath.”

  “Sounds like someone was scared,” Emerick said rising to his feet and chuckling.

  “Hey, I’m not scared of anything.”

  “Really? And yet it’s here we find you, hiding away like a…rat!” Emerick said in a condescending tone. Chad balled his fist and took a step forward.

  “Go on! Take a swing,” Emerick said. “I’m in the mood for it.”

  “Guys. Seriously. This isn’t helping. We need to find a way off this roof.”

  “Yeah, and go where?” Chad asked motioning with one arm to the crowd of maniacs below.

  “You said the military was taking the kids to a FEMA camp. Where is it?” Emerick asked.

  “Why? You want to join them? Because they will round up anyone who is showing even the slightest animosity. And right now yours is off the charts,” Chad said.

  Emerick scowled. “Yeah, well I have a good reason.”

  “He wants to find his son. A friend of mine. The guy that was on the roof.”

  Chad’s mouth widened, a grin appearing. “Oh him? He’s your son? Oh well that all makes sense now.” Emerick lost it and threw a punch but Chad moved and Emerick toppled over. “Stay down!” Chad said jabbing a finger at him.

  Emerick rose to his feet and brushed himself off before narrowing his eyes. “And there was me about to help you find a gun, and a way off this roof. But now you’re on your own.”

  “Emerick,” Nick said as he strolled away.

  Nick glanced at Chad and shrugged. What could he do, he wasn’t the one who threw the punch. Sure he was a dick for saying what he did but no one was thinking straight, especially Emerick. Nick lifted a hand to indicate to Chad to wait. Emerick was about to jump down to a separate part of the roof when Nick grabbed him by the arm. He swung around thinking it was Chad and clocked Nick in the face. He hit the ground and let out a groan.

  “Oh shit. Nick. I’m sorry. I thought you were…”

  “What an asshole,” Chad said.

  On his knees, Nick wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and waved him off as Emerick placed a hand on his back. “Just stop, Emerick. Enough. The only way out of here is to work together. You have problems with him, he has issues with you. Lay them to one side for now and just work together for fuck’s sake!” Nick got up, brushed himself off, headed over to the lip of the roof and hopped down onto the adjoining building. It was about a four-foot drop. He landed hard and looked up to see both of them staring down. They glanced at each other for a second before following.

  They moved quickly across the surface of the building to the south side, hopping down, and climbing up to each section of the school. It was so damn dark, and the streetlights for some reason were out, that if there were any of those freaks down there they could easily overwhelm them. Chad stopped at a window, and crouched. They were right above the gym area and he was peering through the skylight. “There’s a rifle down there.”

  “Yeah, well it’s going to stay down there,” Emerick said, passing him.

  Chad lifted the window and peered in. “Look, I can get it. I just need to climb down onto the beam, go across and use one of those gym ropes to make my way down. There’s no one moving inside.”

  “We heard them enter. They’re in there.”

  “Look, I’m not asking you to go in. Just watch my back from the window. If you see anything, shoot it. We need that extra gun. You need my help.”

  There was no arguing with that but still, going back down there was a big risk. Chad looked inside again, and Emerick walked over and peered over his shoulder, satisfying his own curiosity. “Okay, it’s your funeral.”

  Nick smirked as Chad swallowed and cautiously climbed over the edge and lowered himself down onto one of the thick steel beams. “Let’s see if all that money Uncle Sam invested in you was worth it,” Emerick said with his lip curling up. Chad flipped him the bird and Emerick chuckled. Nick kept an eye on the other windows in nearby buildings and watched Emerick’s back while they waited.

  Beads of sweat trickled down Chad’s face as he shimmied along the structural beams and peered down at lifeless bodies. Fear gripped him as the memory of people losing control came flooding back in. What he hadn’t told Emerick was he was right. He had fled and abandoned his post out of fear. He’d seen his buddies drop in front of his eyes; he’d seen a kid’s head taken off with a shotgun, and a young girl thrown through a window. In the heat of the moment fear had overwhelmed him and he scrambled up the stairwell, petrified of dying. He’d encountered a hostile on the way up and lost his service weapon in the fight, before he’d thrown the guy over the railing. Then for hours he’d hid on the roof, his hands clasped over his ears to silence the sounds of screams. It was only when he knew he couldn’t remain there that he’d ventured inside. That’s when he’d heard Emerick.

  Now here he was balancing forty feet in the air, his palms sweating and the blood rushing in his ears. Down below he could see a soldier face down, a rifle still in hand, and a sidearm attached to his hip. He made his way over to the ropes and was about to climb down when the gym doors opened. He glanced at Emerick, who had spotted the intruder and was preparing to take him out. Now had he been the only one that entered, he would have given him the go-ahead but three more followed straight after. Shit, he thought, staying as quiet as he could. Sweat was tickling his lip as each drop rolled down. He didn’t dare move to wipe them away. He locked eyes with Emerick and shook his head to make it clear not to fire.

  The four people wandered the gym, seemingly oblivious to each other as if confused and dazed, and just operating with a herd mentality. He couldn’t see well enough from where he was whether their skin had changed or not. Slowly but surely they exited on the other side and the door swung closed.

  It was now or never.

  Chad wrapped his feet and hands around the thick yellow rope and slid down as fast as he could. As soon as he hit the ground he made his way over, scooped up the rifle and put the gun into his holster before relieving the soldier of ammo. No sooner had he done that than the door opened. Chad dropped to his face, lying prone on the ground. He didn’t dare move or breathe. Fear rose in his chest, suffocating him as he stared into the eyes of his fallen comrade — Mark Roberts.

  They had gone through boot camp together, seen two tours in the Middle East and lived in the same city. He had a wife, and a young baby. They would be devastated.

  Chad heard the approaching footsteps and all he could do was lie there and not move, hoping they would pass him. Through slitted eyes he saw a pair of combat boots come into frame. They were military.

  For a split second he thought it was his squad returning to co
llect him, until he looked up and saw one of the infected.

  His movement gave away his position, and the maniac let out a scream.

  Chapter 17

  Three floors of apartments, and all he could do was guess which one the shooter was in. Sergio had seen the muzzle flash but with it being so dark and multiple windows on the outside of the building, it was hard to judge which door corresponded to which apartment. He knew the shooter was on the third floor but that was it. All he could do was hope they fired a few more shots at Lars. It would instantly give them away.

  He entered the dingy hallway. Sick looking fluorescent lights from emergency lights flicked on and off making him feel like he was in a dance club. Darkness, then light. A constant blinking that was nauseating. He strode down the hallway stopping at each apartment and putting an ear to the unfinished wooden doors. The apartment block was a shithole, a tenant’s nightmare. How landlords managed to get away with such subpar standards was a mystery. A cockroach scuttled across the worn carpeted floor, and the sound of music kicked in from an apartment further down as the smell of weed lingered in the air. It was always the same. These were the bottom feeders of society, the ones who worked the system. He couldn’t stand them and the thought of ridding the earth of one of them brought him great satisfaction, especially after Lars had been shot and almost killed. He pressed on going apartment to apartment until he arrived at the one blaring music. He wasn’t a gambling man but if he had to lay a bet, this was the one. Sergio noticed the peephole. So he moved to one side and banged on the door.

  “Davey, is that you?” a female voice yelled out.

  It caught him off guard. He struck the door again and mumbled “C’mon” in a low throaty voice. He could hear multiple locks being pulled back, followed by two chains sliding off rails before the door cracked open. Sergio reared around kicking the door wide, and knocking the occupant on their ass. It was a guy. Suddenly coming into view further inside, a woman pulled around the corner with a rifle. He had just enough time to dive out of the way before she unleashed a flurry of rounds from an AR-15. That was more firepower than he was ready to deal with and under any other circumstances he might have let it go and got the hell out of there, but all hell had broken loose in town, and the chances of the cops showing up were slim to none, so no, he wasn’t going anywhere, not until he had blood.

  Sergio pulled into the nearest stairwell and waited with his back to the wall.

  He glanced out and the door was now closed. “Sonofabitch!”

  Slipping back into the hallway he made his way down and listened carefully. On the other side of the door he could hear the guy groaning. “My fucking nose. He busted my nose.”

  “Get up, grab your rifle and stop being a pussy.”

  He smirked. She obviously wore the pants.

  Sergio took advantage of the moment and aimed at the door, and fired four shots through it in rapid succession before he got out of the way. Loud cries echoed and he knew he’d landed at least one shot. The question was whether they were both injured.

  That was soon answered with multiple rounds tearing through the door and peppering the wall across from him. He smiled, waiting patiently for that bitch to come out. As he waited, crouched on the ground, fully expecting her to appear, a door opened up several apartments down and an old man walked out, his eyes red and skin weathered. He turned his head and gave Sergio an absent look before shuffling in his direction.

  What the hell was he doing?

  Anyone in their right mind would have stayed inside.

  More rounds erupted.

  Though he didn’t care for many, this guy had obviously lost his marbles. “Get back. Go back into your apartment,” Sergio yelled waving him back. But he paid no attention. His expression was stoic, unmoved by the flurry of rounds. Like someone sleep walking, totally oblivious to what was going on around him, he pressed on until he stepped into the fatal funnel. His body shook, and looked like it was convulsing as round after round tore through him, sending a mist of blood over the wall.

  Insane. Utterly insane, he thought.

  He shook his head and was about to pull back to the stairwell when he saw out the corner of his eye someone rushing him. He turned just in time to avoid a lunatic wielding a heavy fire extinguisher. It missed his head by inches. Sergio didn’t hesitate, he unloaded a round into his skull and snuffed his lights out.

  Had that been the only one, he would have turned his focus back to the apartment but it wasn’t. A woman screamed coming at him with two knives in her hands. Her raggedy hair hung low over her dirty face. All she was wearing was a bra and panties. Her skin looked like it was melting off her.

  “Ahhh,” he yelled as he toppled back to avoid the blades as she slashed the air. He hit the ground and rolled as she came down, driving the tip of the second knife into the carpet. Sergio whipped around and unloaded a round into her neck, followed by one more to the gut. He backed up, shock setting in. He had no qualms about killing but this made him feel like a fish out of water. What the hell had everyone been drinking?

  Scrambling to his feet, he decided to cut his losses and get the hell out before he found himself out of ammo and fighting off a horde of these assholes. He took a few steps and stepped over the woman when the bitch with the AR-15 emerged on the other side of the glass divider. Their eyes locked and as if they knew exactly what the other was thinking, they raised their guns. Neither one of them squeezed the trigger though.

  He wasn’t sure why.

  He could have killed her in that instant, she could have done the same but then it hit him. Maybe she thought he was one of them. Perhaps she wasn’t randomly picking them off, she was defending her turf and now, only now after she’d witnessed him kill one of those freaks, she was seeing him a different light.

  With one hand opened, he reached for the door and pulled it back holding it ajar with his foot. Slowly they both lowered their weapons.

  “You’re not one of them, are you?” she said.

  He shook his head. “No.”

  Her eyes dropped, as did her weapon to her side. “I’m sorry…”

  Before she uttered the words or could react, Sergio raised his Glock and fired a round into her head. She slumped to the floor and he spat on her body. “You speak too much,” he said before making his way back to Lars. A pool of blood seeped over the edge of the steps behind him turning the steps into a mini stream of red.

  Chapter 18

  Brody shouldered the cabin door, struggling to keep it closed from opposing pressure on the other side. The woman clutched her baby and cowered in a corner sobbing her heart out. “Push that table over here,” he yelled over his shoulder. She glanced at it for a second then shook her head. “Lady, if you don’t help me now we both die. Now do it!” It was getting harder to keep the door closed. If he could just get it shut, he could lock it but he’d barely managed to close the door when he felt them forcing their way in. The woman set her baby down on the ground and hurried to a table. Just as she began to shift it, a brick shattered the window landing a few feet from her baby. She screamed and pulled back, fear controlling her as she returned and scooped up her child. Brody reached around for his Glock and fired two rounds through the door. A sudden release in pressure and he was able to close it and slam the bolt home.

  Suddenly someone ran at the window and crashed through it. Glass scattered, and the intruder rolled across the floor.

  Brody turned and fired a round into the stranger’s head, killing the intruder instantly. He backed up and unleashed several more shots through the door as more people pounded on it. A loud crash above them, and both of them looked up and realized people on the roof. Brody fired into different areas hoping to get them off. The woman with the child screamed again as someone tried to get through the now open window. The glass was cutting their hands but it didn’t seem to faze them. A guy got half his body in before Brody ended his life. He went to unload another round as a pane of glass to the left shattered but he
’d run out of rounds. He pulled his second magazine, released the other, palmed the next into place and continued his tirade of rounds to keep them at bay. Anyone in their right mind might have backed up but these people seemed unfazed by the danger of being shot.

  He knew if they kept this up he would soon be out of ammo and even if he could hold them at bay with the metal rod, his chances of being infected would increase. He’d kept his distance from the woman and the child out of fear of contracting the contagion.

  Rounds echoed one after the other as he held the tide at bay.

  Right then he heard the sound of an engine, and rock music blaring out loudly. A flood of light lit up the faces of the infected briefly before an RV plowed through them. It was Gottman. A wave of relief washed over him as he watched the RV accelerate for a second time at the mad crowd. The sound of bodies bouncing off metal dominated until the RV squealed to a stop just beyond the shattered window.

  “Come on, chief! We don’t have all day,” Gottman shouted as he extended his hand out the driver’s window and took potshots with his handgun.

  Brody motioned to the woman to go but she shook her head. He wasn’t going to grab her, not after he’d seen that infected woman coddling her child. And as he looked at her, he had to wonder if she was now infected. “Lady, do you want to live?”

  She glanced at the RV and the people who were still trying to get in and she nodded.

  “Okay, I’ll head out first and clear the way then you follow. You understand?”

  He was aware that she might be infected but there was the slim possibility that she wasn’t. He wouldn’t know for sure until Sorenson looked her over. For now he would keep his distance and if he could get her into the RV, she would stay at the back away from them.

  “Chief!” Gottman yelled again.

  The sound of his gun erupting forced Brody into action. He hopped up onto the surrounding granite counter and fired a few rounds through at the assholes close to the window before leaping out and unloading even more. “Come on!” he shouted to the woman as he opened the RV door and beckoned her to hurry. She clambered up with her baby and stared out, hesitating to jump. Under any other conditions he would have had her throw the baby out and he would have caught it, but there was no way in hell he was going near that bundle of joy.