The Amygdala Syndrome (Book 1): Unstable

by Hunt, Jack

  No sooner had the words come out of his mouth than he heard movement off to his right in the dark. Sergio wheeled around just in time to see what looked like a worker for the veterinarian, a female, coming towards him. She wasn’t moving fast but had this wild look on her face, and a needle in her hand. The dog whined, then barked. He didn’t hesitate; Sergio raised the gun and fired a round. It struck her and knocked her to the ground. He breathed a sigh of relief and looked at the dog. He cast a glance around the room and got up to make sure there was no one else in the rear. He walked past the woman and shone the light around into the darkened corners before returning to let the dog out. There was a whole bunch of crates in there; all of the others were empty. Just as he passed the woman, she bolted upright and jammed the needle into the back of his leg. He let out a scream and fired a round into her skull finishing her off.

  “Ah fuck,” he said as he extracted the needle and tossed it. He went over and released the dog and it padded out brushing its head up against his leg. “Hey boy, come on, let’s get you out of here.” They made their way back into the next room where Lars was sitting upright, an expression of concern on his face.

  “You okay?”

  “Oh yeah, just dandy. Some mad bitch just stabbed me with a needle.”

  Lars looked down at the dog. “You picked up a stray?”

  He nodded. Sergio crouched and pulled the dog’s collar around. There was no name on it. “You look like a Baxter.”

  “What do you think is going on, Sergio?”

  “With?”

  “Everyone freaking out. The military?”

  “Well it’s safe to say this isn’t some new recruitment initiative,” he said before grinning and running his fingers through Baxter’s hair. “Who knows but one thing is for sure, they aren’t zombies. Those I’ve killed don’t get back up again. That woman out the back was playing dead. Which tells me these assholes are smart. They haven’t lost their minds totally. But what’s going on up there, is anyone’s guess. That guy that took a swing at you looked more terrified than he did angry.”

  Lars looked down at his leg and swung it off the table and tried to stand on it. It buckled a little and he winced as he tried to support himself using the counter.

  “You’ll need to lay off that for a while.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I don’t know right now but we can’t stay here.”

  “And we can’t stay outside. Those fucking people are unstable.”

  Sergio nodded. “Unstable. You got that right. Look, the way I see it, the military moves into this town, sets up roadblocks and locks down the hospital, so it’s got to be some form of pandemic. There have been a whole lot of people acting weird since earlier today. So whatever it is, it’s spreading and fast.”

  “So it’s contagious then?”

  “Of course. How many people were acting normal when we left? And look at the way things are now. That’s a short window. Twelve hours at the most.”

  “What if we’re infected?”

  “Nah.”

  “No, I’m serious, Sergio. What if we are?”

  “Well then there isn’t shit we can do about it.”

  Sergio rose and went to cross the room when Lars grabbed him by the arm. “If anything happens to me. You know, if I contract whatever this is; promise me you’ll end me. I don’t want to go out like that.”

  “Hey, I’ll end you now if you don’t stop whining like a bitch.”

  They both grinned as he returned to help Lars up. “You think we just stay here the night? It might be safer. Besides, my leg hurts real bad. I could use some time to let it heal. By daylight maybe we can figure out what to do then. You know, reassess,” Lars added.

  “Maybe. We’ll see.”

  Sergio wasn’t sure about anything but one thing he wasn’t going to do was sit around hoping the military would leave. If they had gone to all the trouble to show up and quarantine the town, the chances of them letting all the residents leave twenty-four hours later were slim to none.

  Chapter 21

  Emerick knew it was bad when he saw the overturned school bus, and the tires in flames. They were going east on Lincoln Street in the hopes of heading to Alpine and up to the location of the FEMA camp when they found the road blocked.

  An eighteen-wheeler had barreled into the side of the school bus, knocking it clear off the road and overturning it. The front half of the bus was embedded in the First Christian Church, a stunning, large white building that was just across from the Presidio County Courthouse. Emerick eased off the gas and hopped out of the driver’s seat.

  “Nick, wait here while I check.”

  “You are out of your mind,” Chad said.

  “My kid could be in there. I need to know.”

  He made his way out and ran at a crouch towards the bus, raking his rifle from side to side. The eighteen-wheeler was still jammed into the side of it, the door open and no one in the driver’s side. He climbed up onto the bus and peered through the windows. There were bodies inside; many were kids, and soldiers lying unconscious. If the collision hadn’t killed them, smoke inhalation might have, as it was filled inside with smoke making it hard to see anything except those that were closest to the windows. Shit, he thought, as he knew that the only way he would know was to climb inside.

  Behind him he heard boots. Emerick turned, rifle on the ready, only to find Chad.

  “You need some help?”

  Chad pulled off his jacket and shirt, and tore off a portion of the shirt to wrap around his mouth and nostrils. “I’m going in. Keep watch,” Chad said.

  “You really are crazy.”

  “Hey, I wasn’t the one that opted to go down into a nest of maniacs,” Emerick said before climbing down through an area where a window had been shattered. He dropped and looked at the faces of the dead. His heart pounded in his chest at the thought of finding Devan. He didn’t stay in there long, the air was thick and smoke so heavy that even with his face covered he could still smell plastic burning. He began coughing and heard Chad tell him to hurry up. He was going as fast as he could, walking on shattered glass and pulling at kids to see if it was his son. As he got to the far end of the bus, which was inside the church, he could see that some had managed to escape and were dead in the church itself.

  “Devan!” he yelled but got no response. He climbed out where the front windshield once was. Someone had kicked it out, as it was lying crumpled off to one side. The bodies of several soldiers lay nearby. He stopped to collect a couple of handguns and some extra ammo before walking down the aisle of the church. Many of the pews had been reduced to rubble and fire had already left half of the building in a charred mess. “Devan?” He cried out his name again, anguish getting the better of him. A few tears formed at the corner of his eyes. That kid was everything to him. The only reason he got up each day. If he lost him he wasn’t sure he’d be able to come back from that.

  Satisfied that no one was there, he was about to head back when he heard gunfire outside. It wasn’t just a single shot but multiple, and in rapid succession. He ran back to the bus and squeezed in and hauled himself back up the way he came until he could breathe fresh air again. That’s when he saw what was happening. A group of armed individuals in Jeeps had swerved nearby and were taking cover and shooting at Chad who was now positioned behind the bus.

  Emerick ducked and slid over the edge to join him.

  He stayed low as bullets whizzed overhead.

  It sound like hailstones as rounds ricocheted off metal, and lanced through windows.

  “Where the hell did they come from?”

  “Fuck knows. One second I’m peering into the bus, the next taking cover from these idiots.”

  “Infected?”

  “No idea. Unless the infected have control of their faculties enough to shoot rifles.” Emerick cast a glance off towards the bus and noticed that Nick had got behind the wheel. The sound of hissing could be heard, followed by the sight
of exhaust fumes rising as Nick pulled forward to provide additional cover using the bus. He swerved in close, and the doors opened. Jasper waved them in. Chad moved first, taking a few strides and hopping up inside, followed by Emerick. Everyone took cover as bullets peppered windows and metal, turning the whole damn thing into Swiss cheese. Whoever these lunatics were, they weren’t messing around.

  “Put your foot on it!” Chad yelled at Nick. He slammed his foot down and the bus reversed nearly taking out a building across the street. Emerick saw the men jump into their Jeeps and he knew they weren’t going to give up. What they wanted was anyone’s guess. Had they been the ones responsible for the eighteen-wheeler smashing the school bus? Was this some kind of local gang or militia? Armed, unregulated militia groups were a big thing in Texas. There were several. He’d had a couple of the leaders on his radio station over the years. They weren’t extremists, just everyday folks passionate about their country and state. But in the eyes of the government they were a wild card, a possible threat that would stand against them if push came to shove. In recent months, warnings had already been issued to military commanders because of the conflict that was stirred as immigrants had tried to cross the border from Mexico to the USA and militia had shown up. Was this what was happening here? Emerick looked at Chad. Perhaps it wasn’t them they were after but Chad.

  “Nick, get out of the seat.”

  “What?”

  Emerick grabbed him by the collar and yanked him out. He slipped behind the wheel, jammed it into drive and crushed the accelerator forcing the bus towards the Jeeps before they had time to follow. He saw the looks on their faces as the bus came barreling towards them. Several of them dived out of their vehicles seconds before he drove straight into the Jeeps. The crunch of metal, and the smash of glass echoed as he tore through the three Jeeps like a hot knife through butter and kept going down Lincoln until he saw a second yellow bus. This one was parked near the Palace Theater.

  Was he in there?

  “Hold on tight,” Emerick said as he yanked the steering wheel. They went over the lawn and he brought it close to the main entrance. Knowing the area, and the best place to get a view of the theater and any threats, he killed the engine off and hopped out.

  “GO! Everyone out.”

  They had seconds before the group they’d plowed through caught up with them.

  Chad fired a few rounds at the door where a thick lock and chain had been looped around the handles to prevent anyone from entering. The chain slipped away and they entered and looked for anything they could use to barricade the door temporarily.

  “Jasper, Nick, pile up those chairs over here.” Emerick pulled off his belt and tied it around the handles of the door to secure it. He used the chain from the outside as a secondary measure and then began helping to pile up chairs, tables, anything to block the door and make it just a little harder for them to get in. He was familiar with the Second Empire style courthouse. Having visited many times over the years, it was a central point of interest and a historical landmark. Folks came from miles around to see it. It had four entrances, one on either of its four sides, and a tall tower with a central dome that overlooked the city. As soon as they had the first entrance blocked they moved on to the next, working furiously to barricade themselves in. From there they would head up to the tower inside the dome to get a better scope of the situation. Right now the streets were too hot to be out there.

  The steady sound of gunfire echoed loudly outside and inside the Palace Theater. Devan huddled among the other students who had been told to stay low and together. He had lost track of how long they’d been in there. Four soldiers watched over them while the other eight had spread out to deal with the threat. All of them looked scared. This wasn’t the Middle East, and those weren’t insurgents outside. Whatever was causing this went far beyond that.

  After being caught back at the school and thrown into the gymnasium like a second-class citizen he’d heard a couple of the soldiers talking about a pandemic, and heading off to a FEMA camp.

  That might have worked had they managed to keep control of the situation but things had spiraled out of control when several students went batshit crazy, and parents showed up at the school. Rounds fired, and chaos ensued. If a soldier hadn’t guided him out he was sure he would have been among the dead.

  While he didn’t like the situation, there was a certain level of comfort he drew from knowing that the military was trying to protect them, at least that’s what he thought. He’d heard rounds go off in the school and many students didn’t join them on the bus.

  What happened? That was anyone’s guess.

  Still, they made it two blocks before the yellow bus ahead of them was T-boned by an eighteen-wheeler and they came under attack from what one of the soldiers said was a local militia.

  Militia, the infected, it was all the same to him — a crazy bunch of lunatics trying to kill.

  He stared down at old chewing gum on the ground. The place stank of mothballs and stale popcorn. For years the Art Deco style theater had operated as an opera house until it was turned into a movie theater that eventually closed in the 1970s. He’d heard all manner of rumors circulating about the place. There were plans to reopen it, someone else said they were going to turn it into a coffeehouse, and another said the city was going to knock it down. He’d always wondered what it looked like inside and had hoped they’d one day open it for the public to browse. He just never imagined he would see it under these conditions.

  It wasn’t those outside getting in that worried him most, it was the soldiers.

  He’d already overhead two of them talking about cleaning up shop. He didn’t need to know military lingo to understand what that meant. If it came down to it, Uncle Sam would have no qualms about cutting ties.

  All he could do was hope his father would get him out of this mess. He sighed and glanced at his phone. The battery was dead. If his father didn’t reach him soon, he would be too.

  Chapter 22

  It was agreed. Gottman and Michael would go with Brody to Marfa, the rest would stay. Liam said he would watch over Jenna and make sure nothing happened. His only concern was with Sorenson. Although he’d made it clear that he had no allegiance to the government, his role in dealing with the infected and finding a cure made him a valuable asset. The question was whether or not the military would search for him. Gottman acted all nonchalant about it. “She’ll be fine, Brody. Come on, we need to get moving before daylight. The only thing we have working for us right now is the darkness.”

  He led them down the hallway of his house, and through a door into the garage. As there was no power, he fumbled around in the dark then switched on a flashlight. A large white beam illuminated the inside of his two-car garage. On one side was a Jeep Wrangler and the other was covered up with a tarp. Michael jogged over to the Wrangler and was about to hop in when Gottman said, “Nah, hold up. We’ll take Lexi.”

  “Lexi?” Brody asked, a frown wrinkled his forehead.

  “Ah, you haven’t seen the new addition to my collection.”

  “Collection?”

  “Yeah, I’m thinking of building it over time. By the time I hit retirement I aim to have six vehicles.” He wandered around to the back of the hidden vehicle and took a large clump of the tarp. “Guys. Let me introduce you to Lexi. Or as I like to say, Sexy Lexi.”

  Brody raised an eyebrow, as did Michael. Gottman yanked hard on the tarp, pulling it away to reveal a brand-new Ford Mustang, blue with a white stripe. “Holy cow!” Michael said. “That’s a sexy beast.”

  “Isn’t she?” He ran his fingers over the top. “It’s a 2018 Ford Mustang GT500. The cream of the crop. I had to have one. Been vying for one of these since I was kid.” He pressed a button on a key fob and told them to hop in.

  “You sure you want to take this?”

  “We need to get in and out fast. You’re damn right I do.”

  Brody shrugged and got in the passenger side while Michael
slipped into the back. It smelled like a brand-new car. Clean. Zero dust. The thing was spotless inside.

  Gottman opened the garage manually, then ran over to the house door and asked for someone to shut it after they left. Next he hopped in and fired up the engine. “Doesn’t that just purr like a kitten?” He grinned like a madman and revved the engine a few times before rolling slowly out into the night. Michael leaned forward from the back with his arms wrapped around the front seats.

  “Just curious but how do you intend to get out of Alpine if there are checkpoints and the town is surrounded by soldiers?”

  “I’m pretty sure a Humvee can’t outrun a Mustang,” Gottman said slamming his foot against the accelerator and forcing Michael back against his seat. He took off at a high rate of speed zipping down the streets like he was driving a police cruiser with the lights on.

  “Gottman,” Brody said. “He has a point. You might be able to outrun them but that’s if you can get by them.”

  “Obviously neither of you fine folks have seen Smokey and the Bandit.”

  Brody palmed his forehead. He was beginning to understand why they gave him the job of chief instead of Gottman. The Mustang powered down West Avenue, then hung a right down South Halbert Street before taking a right onto the Hogan Loop.

  “As soon as you hit I-90 they are going to stop you. The checkpoint is just past Big Bend Brewing Company.”

  “Who said we are taking I-90?” Gottman replied without even looking at him. He had this wild grin on his face like a five-year-old kid reenacting some racecar driver fantasy. Brody had put his seat belt on and shot Michael a glance to make it clear that if he were smart he would do the same. There was no telling what Gottman had in mind but it seemed like it was going to be one hell of a bumpy ride.