The Amygdala Syndrome (Book 1): Unstable

by Hunt, Jack

  Sure enough, he never hung a right to go north up to I-90, instead he powered off the road and tore through a farmer’s field, knocking down tall brown grass. It battered the front of his car as they screamed across the field and he looked to his right to stay parallel to the road, using it as a means of establishing where he was heading. He kept his lights off and remained a good distance from the road to ensure the military blockade wouldn’t see or hear them. “I told you. These guys are amateurs. They can’t be watching the town twenty-four seven. If we’ve got out, you can be damn sure others have,” Gottman said.

  Brody thought of the implications of those in the town escaping. On one hand it would be good for anyone not infected but if the infected got out…he didn’t want to imagine how quickly this could spread. It had been seventy-two hours since the El Paso Zoo event.

  His mind switched back to the present moment. Out of the corner of his eye, two luminescent yellow eyes cut through the night, getting larger by the second.

  “Uh, Gottman.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Looks like we got company.”

  He turned to see a military Jeep in hot pursuit.

  Gottman had entertained the thought of a high-speed chase since he was a kid, in fact it was the very reason he became a cop. What other job gave them the right to put the pedal to the metal and break the speed limit? He’d considered a career as a racecar driver but where was the fun in that? Being a cop combined his love of weapons, law and vehicles all into one. Yet he’d only been involved in a few high-speed chases. His superior who put public safety as number one had called off most of them. That’s what most of the public didn’t know. There were rules that applied to them as cops. They had to abide by them and sometimes that meant calling off a chase, and letting the next town over handle it. It pissed him off to no end but not tonight. This was a free-for-all.

  Still, he wasn’t going to jeopardize his baby.

  This car was in mint condition. Sure, he didn’t mind getting it dirty but if that Jeep got any closer, he was pretty sure they would open fire and the thought of his expensive vehicle being turned into a metal strainer wasn’t good.

  Instead, he swerved the vehicle, slammed it into park and got out.

  “Gottman. What are you doing?”

  He didn’t respond. He went to the trunk as calm as could be and popped it open. He pulled out an M107 Barrett .50 caliber rifle. The damn thing was a monster, and the best part was that the gun laws treated it like any other hunting rifle, except this wasn’t any other rifle. It could hit targets at more than 2,000 yards and inflict some serious damage. He brought it around and slapped a magazine into it as he laid it on top of the car and climbed up to get into a better position. Once ready with his finger hovering over the trigger, he peered through the scope, watching the Jeep get closer.

  “Gottman.”

  “Trust me, chief.”

  He heard him mumble and curse as Gottman took a deep breath and lined up the target. Under his breath he whispered, “That’s it. Come on. You picked the wrong fucking night to be a hero. Let’s hope they paid you enough.” He pressed the soft part of his finger against the trigger and gave them a few more seconds before he unloaded a round directly into the front of the engine. He quickly set up the next shot, this time aiming lower for the wheel. “Don’t fail me now, baby!” Another ear-piercing shot rang out and the military-grade vehicle looked like it buckled, and the driver lost control. In the next instant it twisted and flipped, catapulting out the occupants, and rolled once, then twice before coming to rest.

  “Oorah, jarheads!”

  He quickly slipped off the vehicle and tossed the rifle into the rear and hopped back in the driver’s side as though he’d just returned from taking a pee break. “They should have joined the police force.” Brody glanced at him with a slack jaw as he tore out of there sending a wave of loose mud into the air.

  “You can thank me later,” Gottman said with a smile on his face.

  “You want to tell me how the hell this happened?” the president asked, an expression of anger on his face. It was okay for him to act like God from the Oval Office but he wasn’t the one in the field, it wasn’t his boots on the ground. Lynch sat in front of her computer with the president in a square on the left and Margaret Wells from FEMA on the right. Lynch had been trying to explain how she’d lost contact with Major Tim Brown and the platoons in both towns. Behind her waiting to step in if need be was Mosley. Unknown to the president but having made a name for himself, he would be her lifeline if this all went south — a final attempt to convince him that she had this in hand. The fact was she didn’t. There had been no contact with the major since she last spoke to him. By any measure she was treating him as a casualty of war. For that’s what this outbreak had become now. All there was left to do was clean up and hope to God they’d managed to contain this to the state of Texas.

  Tired of listening to Lynch’s excuses, he turned his anger towards the FEMA rep. “Margaret, please tell me you have some good news?”

  She gritted her teeth together and her lips pulled back — an expression of discomfort not much different than Lynch. Clearly the answer was no. She took a glass of water and sipped some before setting it to one side and trying to compose herself. It wouldn’t matter how she tried to word it, unless she was delivering good news he wouldn’t take it well.

  “Unfortunately I have bad news. It’s spreading.”

  “Why am I not surprised,” he replied.

  She felt a little bit better. At least she wouldn’t bear the brunt of all his anger. Not that she really cared. At this point the chances of recovering from this if it had spread further afield were slim to none. What could they do? Soldiers had been sent into two small towns and not even they could contain it. Killing people wasn’t the solution. Without tests they would be ending the lives of innocent people. It could be an act of genocide unlike anything seen before.

  No, this had to be stopped using medical means.

  Sorenson. Her mind went to him and she made a mental note to contact him as soon as she got off the call. In all the drama of losing contact with the military, she’d completely forgot about his work at the hospital. A quick call and maybe, hopefully, he could establish what could be done, if anything. They still had people who were immune. That was something.

  “Sir, we have been in contact with hospitals throughout the state of Texas. There have been numerous symptoms cropping up in six locations. We have had our teams head there and contain what we can but we can’t be sure that it hasn’t spread beyond the hospitals.”

  “So what is the solution? Do you even have one?”

  “The immunes,” Lynch chimed in, hoping to be some light in the darkest hour.

  “And what of these immunes? Where are they? Have you tested them to be sure they can help others?”

  “No. We just know that six of them are immune. Dr. Daniel Sorenson is working with them to determine if their blood might hold the key to at least preventing escalation of the disease or virus, whatever you want to call it.”

  “I want to call it a fuck-up. Can I?” the president said in a frank manner.

  “Call it what you will. If this has spread throughout Texas we are going to need a vaccine, and right now the only solution we have is to be found in those individuals.”

  “Who are where?”

  “In Alpine. At the hospital.”

  “The same one that was overrun.”

  She felt her stomach sink before she nodded. “Yes. The same one.”

  “So there is a possibility they are dead?”

  She wasn’t going to lie. What was the point? If this was the house of cards falling in on itself, was she responsible for ensuring the survival of the nation or did it rest in the hands of their commander in chief?

  “So what are we looking at, Margaret? A couple of hospitals?”

  She shook her head. “I’m going to play you some footage of Dallas and Houston.”

/>   This was new to even Lynch. Her head had been so buried in the work at the towns that she hadn’t even considered what was occurring beyond that. A stream of video came into view of people attacking each other on the streets, followed by police trying to intervene with smoke grenades. It looked like a riot but it wasn’t a group protesting, or even a violent rally, it was ordinary people trying to kill each other. Many were fleeing and screaming as if fear itself was chasing them down or as if patients from a mental ward had gotten loose in the city.

  “They are doing everything they can to stop it but…”

  The president closed his eyes and then squeezed the bridge of his nose as he sat back in his leather seat. “Sir, might I suggest implementing a code red?” Lynch said.

  His eyes snapped open. He knew what that meant. “You’re telling me it’s got that out of hand that you see no other alternative?”

  “May I speak?” Mosley said stepping into view behind Lynch. She wanted to prevent him but as they hadn’t come up with any better solutions perhaps he could see the solution from the outside looking in.

  “You are?” the president asked.

  “Lieutenant Mosley, sir.”

  Lynch piped up. “He’s been involved in numerous black ops projects that could have easily spiraled out of control.”

  “I would like to take in a few Chinooks and pull our men out then implement a code red. Right now our military is the most valuable asset we have and if this has slipped out of our grasp then their energy would be better served in the larger cities, like Dallas and Houston.”

  “And what of these small towns?”

  Mosley cocked his head. He didn’t need to say. The president understood. It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard a suggestion like what Mosley had in mind. “Right now, sir, all we can do is prevent this from becoming a larger threat. We deal with the towns as a whole and then use our soldiers to wipe out those remaining. If we leave them in there they don’t stand a chance. They will be overrun if they haven’t already. It’s a method to the madness.”

  “Madness. You’ve got that right. How long do you need?”

  “Two, maybe three hours tops. We’ll pull out as many as we can and then have the Air Force handle the rest. We’ll reassess after the aftermath and roll in to address any further threats. I can’t imagine there would be many.”

  The president nodded and looked away from the camera. Lynch could tell he was contemplating it. All they needed was the go-ahead. “I will need to speak with the Joint Chiefs before we go code red but in the meantime, you have my approval to send in Chinooks. And lieutenant, get in and get out fast. I would hate to see you join the major.”

  With that said he hung up and his screen went black. Margaret asked if there were any questions Lynch had before exiting herself. Lynch closed her laptop and rose, spreading her fingers on the table and nodding slowly, taking in everything that he’d said and agreeing that it was the best course of action.

  “Ma’am?”

  “Yes, Mosley.”

  “We got this. You have my word, if the major is in there, we will find him.”

  “Of course you will because I’m coming with you.”

  “But, I thought…”

  “I’ve worked with Major Brown for a long time and I know he would do the same for me.” She walked past him without saying another word, and then heard him follow.

  Chapter 23

  The onslaught of heavy gunfire was steady. Not all of it was targeting the Presidio County Courthouse. Nick turned to Chad whose back was against the wall in the interior of the central rotunda. Every few seconds he would take a sneak peek around the corner and then back the other way. Emerick was on the other side watching the east and south, while Chad covered the west and north entranceways. The slightest movement of the doors and they would unleash a torrent of rounds to ward off those looking to break in. Nick was meant to assist where and when needed. Emerick still didn’t think he was capable of doing much more than get in the way even though if it wasn’t for him — well, for Jasper — they wouldn’t have even made it out of the school grounds.

  “You know what, I’m heading up. Try to get a bird’s-eye view of what’s happening.”

  “Careful,” Emerick said

  “I’ll stay out of the way.”

  “No, I meant don’t shoot yourself, or Jasper for that matter,” Emerick said before chuckling. Nick scowled and flipped him the bird before dashing out into the fatal funnel and across to the stairs that would take them up three floors before giving them access to the central dome — a room with windows wrapped 360 degrees. He’d been there years ago on a school trip. It was probably the highlight of the entire day. He and Devan and sat up there having a smoke with one of the windows open while the rest of the goofballs followed Ms. Mendes around on a guided tour. By the time they rejoined the class, they’d wasted thirty minutes and she was none the wiser. As much as Emerick was worried about his son, so was Nick. Devan was the only real friend he had. Of course he knew people in the school but only to give a nod to, or make a passing comment in class. Devan had been with him through thick and thin. They’d bonded over their commonality of their parents fighting, and the eventual separation, and of course their love of rock music, and all things guitar.

  Jasper followed in his shadow like a lost puppy. “Are we going to die?”

  “Well you aced math, what do you think?” Nick said. He was clearing the floors as he went. The thought of one of those crazed lunatics coming after him remained at the forefront of his mind as they made their way up.

  “Well um, the probability based on the current situation is pretty high.”

  Nick looked back at him over his shoulder before they took to the steps that led up to the dome. “Jasper, you heard from your father since this kicked off?”

  “No, he’s out of town.”

  “So you’re staying with your mother.”

  “No. It’s just me.”

  Nick glanced at him.

  “Well where’s your mother?”

  “She passed away when I was six. Breast cancer.”

  “Ah man, that sucks. Sorry to hear that.”

  “Ah it’s okay. I was too young to really grasp it. You don’t miss what you’ve never really had, right?”

  “I guess,” Nick said as they arrived in the dome and looked out across Marfa. At night they should have been able to see lights all across the town. It should have been lit up like a damn Christmas tree but the only light came from fires burning in the town, and the odd flashlight that clicked on and off. “Hey, uh, keep down.” Jasper crouched and made his way over to one of the windows and peered out. Nick also peered out trying to get a better scope of what was going on. He could see the silhouettes of figures darting across the courthouse yard, and the muzzle flash of guns on top of the Palace Theater. Under the light of the moon he could make out the second yellow school bus. “Jasper, how many buses did they take out?”

  “Two.”

  “All right. So he’s got to be on that one. And if those muzzle flashes on the Palace Theater are anything to go by, there’s a chance he’s in there.” He was planning on telling Emerick but he knew that he would do something stupid and right now they were protected. More gunshots erupted from downstairs. If they could keep them distracted he could exit via one of these windows, slip down onto the roof and make his way down one of the drainpipes at the side of the building. It was a long way down. Three stories but it could be done. Those assholes who were attempting to get in wouldn’t be expecting it. Would they? Maybe all of them could go out that way? His mind was beginning to run away on him, a series of crisscrossing ideas from the logical to the absurd.

  “Let’s head down.”

  They had only taken a few steps when they heard a loud crash down below, and the building itself shook. Nick braced himself against the wall then hurried down at the sound of gunfire. He’d only made it down two stories when he was met by Emerick and Chad coming the other way. “
Go. Go. GO! They’ve breached the building.”

  “How?” Nick yelled as he and Jasper turned back the way they came.

  “Drove the damn bus through the doorway.”

  It looked like they had no choice. When they reached the small dome room, Nick pushed open one of the windows and began to climb out. Emerick grabbed him by the arm. “Are you out of your mind? You know how high we are?”

  “You want to go down. Be my guest.”

  “He has a point,” Chad said climbing out after him. Jasper was next followed by Emerick who hesitated but after hearing more gunfire down below followed suit. The courthouse had a series of gray sloped roofs on top of pink stucco brick. One slip and it would be over. A hard wind blew against them as Emerick closed the window behind him and balanced on the edge before jumping down and joining the others.

  “How the hell did I end up in this mess?” Emerick asked. “On day I’m on the radio, the next on the damn Presidio County Courthouse roof.”

  They carefully but quickly located the gutter and the nearest metal drainpipe and one by one they scaled down the side.

  Sergio had begun to see double. They’d left the veterinarian’s with the hopes of getting out of town but since having that needle jabbed in his leg he’d been feeling nauseated, and barely able to keep his eyes open.

  “You okay, buddy?” Lars asked, his voice deepening, as his face divided into three. It was like being inside a fun house. Every movement he made was exaggerated as though he’d drunk his way through a case of beer.

  “I’m not feeling well,” he said bending at the waist thinking he was about to throw up. He supported himself against the wall of the vet’s and breathed heavily.

  “You want to take a minute?” Lars asked.

  He shook his head. “No, we need to keep moving.”

  “What about the dog?”

  “Just leave the door open. Let him go.”