Rise of the Plague (Book 1): Endemic

by Jeannie Rae

  They traveled between stalled vehicles. The engine of a nearby compact-sedan still rumbled, likely just on fumes. As they surrounded the back of the SUV, Randy and Rhino went up on the driver side, while the others approached from the passenger side. Nothing could be seen within the tinted windows. As Randy and Shotgun approached the front windows on either side, they swung out about three feet away from the vehicle and aimed their guns at the rolled-up windows. The men continued to side-step toward the front of the vehicle, in an effort to get a clear view through the windshield. Shotgun plucked a flashlight from his belt, illuminating the windshield. Seeing nobody in the front seat, he clicked off the light.

  “Wait,” Randy said, “Turn the light back on. Someone’s in there.”

  Shotgun clicked the light back on, and the two moved closer to the front of the vehicle, while the others flanked to their sides, near the front tires.

  “There is nothing there Boss,” Rhino announced, craning his neck.

  Shotgun flicked his wrist, illuminating the inside of the vehicle with strobe-like flashes. Suddenly a face appeared, from the back seat, between the two front headrests. The security team flinched at the sight of the unexpected figure.

  Randy sighed, “It's Buzz.”

  Buzz glared at them for a moment. His penetrating stare felt as if he could char a hole in their very existence. With ghostly white skin and dark veins spider-webbing his face, he had a dark substance around his mouth, dribbling off his chin. He masticated fiercely as his teeth tore into the meat in his mouth effortlessly. After what seemed like an eternal stare, Buzz ducked his head down, disappearing between the seats again.

  “Man, I think he's eating something,” Junior sputtered, dry heaving.

  “Or someone,” Boots added with contempt, glancing at Randy.

  “Boss, we need to put him down. We can’t leave him like that,” Shotgun declared.

  “And then what? Go up and down the whole street killing them all? I say we just leave 'em,” Junior said.

  The men knew that there could be no hope for Buzz. According to Dr. Brandenburg, nothing could be done for those who had already made the transformation. Buzz was doomed like many of the other infected roaming the town.

  “Okay Junior, we’ll leave him,” Randy began. “That way he can get out and kill someone else. Maybe that someone else…is your brother or your mother. He’s one of us. Wouldn't you rather be taken out then to be one of those...creatures, killing and devouring other people? Shotgun's right, we need to put him down. We'll take him on the driver side. Shotgun, you're with me, everyone else keep a look out, so none of the infected get too close.”

  Shotgun surveyed the area, a handful of infected were within eyeshot. A feeling of suspicion crept up inside him that there may be many more of them out of sight. The ones within his view were unfocused and shuffling along slowly, their eyes fixed on the pavement beneath their feet.

  “Hang on a second. If we start shooting, all those, uh…creatures will come at us,” Boots said pointing toward the infected down the street.

  “Boots, we’re cool,” Rhino smiled at Randy. “They’re barely moving and haven’t even spotted us. Who knows if they can even hear? Besides, I think we can move a little faster than them, if they decide to head over here.”

  “They can hear. And they’re faster than you think. They just haven’t really noticed us yet. Walker was bitten because we weren’t faster than them. Some of them are slow, but others are really, really fast. Some of the roam—like these roamers out here. Some run—the runners can get up to speeds that could keep up with a dirt bike. And either one can wail…wailers make these blood-curdling calls,” Boots warned.

  “Oh, okay Boots. So now you’ve named them? The roamers, the runners and the wailers? You’ve put way too much thought into this—” Rhino taunted.

  Rhino had a way of getting under people’s skin. Recognizing that his antagonistic nature would not sit well with Boots, Shotgun stepped between them. His timing had been impeccable, as Boots morphed his face into one of outrage. He attempted to push past Shotgun to Rhino—who beckoned Boots with his hands.

  “Can it men! Remember why we’re here,” Randy said pulling out a custom-fabricated, sound suppressor tube from a Velcro pocket on his side pant-leg. “You’re right Boots, we should be cautious. Let’s get this done and get out of here.”

  Shotgun hustled to the SUV and reached for the handle as he and Randy approached the back door of the vehicle. “You ready Boss?”

  “Yeah, I got this,” Randy said as he finished screwing the silencer onto his weapon. He aimed the gun at the door and gave a quick nod.

  Shotgun opened the door to the SUV. Randy fired off two shots into the vehicle, before quickly closing the door. The shots were discrete, with none of the infected seeming to notice.

  “Let’s go,” Randy shook his head in disappointment, striding back to the Expedition.

  The men followed Randy into the vehicle and sat for a moment in silence. Shotgun, at the wheel, had no clue of where to go. Buzz and Doyle had transferred to Port Steward from the Crescent Bay Angora facility a few months subsequent to Junior’s hiring. Now Buzz was dead, and Doyle’s status remained unknown, Port Steward appearing more like a war field than a small coastal town. Shotgun, looking to Randy for some sort of direction, instead found a cold expression upon his leader’s face. Randy stared blankly out the windshield.

  “Rhino, Junior, get on the phone with Brody. We need tracking on,” Randy paused looking at his phone. “Roxanne Harper. I need to know if she has low jack on any vehicles and if her cell phone has GPS. I also have her father, Joseph Harper, and sister Kathryn Harper, see if either of them have any devices with tracking info available.”

  “Okay Boss,” Junior and Rhino said rhythmically. Rhino began thumbing the buttons on his phone.

  Junior pressed his phone to his hear. “Hey Brody, we need tracking...” his voice trailed off.

  “Was she their target?” Boots asked.

  “Yeah,” Randy answered gruffly.

  “Well, apparently we’re too late. She has already turned into one of them. Why are we going to waste our time to track her down? Walker and I never found McFarland at the carnival and Junior and Gigantor over here, picked up the brother of their target. Are we going after them next? Look around, there’s anarchy all over this town. We just lost Buzz. Shouldn't we be looking for Doyle? And what about Walker, he needs us,” Boots ranted.

  “Buzz and Doyle,” Randy said flatly.

  “And Doyle?” Boots lifted an eyebrow, shaking his head in frustration.

  “I fired two shots, one into Buzz and the other into Doyle," Randy said calmly, giving his men a moment to soak in his words. "Walker is in good hands with the doc. If anyone can help him, it's her. There’s nothing we can do for him—he’s in quarantine. We could go back to the lab and twiddle our thumbs, or we can finish Buzz and Doyle's final mission. Our mission—to bring in these people, starting with this Harper girl. Buzz and Doyle never made it to her house, Boots. She might still be at home. We need to bring the doc something still moving. With all of us, we can secure the target and get her back to the doc, without killing her.”

  The men sat in the vehicle silently for a few moments, only to have the quiet interrupted by the ping of Rhino's phone. He checked the screen, “I’ve got three signals. An iPod registered to Kathryn located out in the farmlands. Roxanne's got low jack on her vehicle. It's in Saddle Brook Park. And I’ve a faint-intermittent signal from her cell phone, around that same area. The closer we get to it the better the location signal will read,” Rhino looked at Randy.

  “Are we going or what?” Randy asked, glaring out the window. “We’ll pick up more vehicles and split up.”

  “Hell yeah, Boss,” Shotgun said.

  “Let’s do it,” Rhino nodded.

  “For Buzz and Doyle," Junior raised his phone as if it were a champagne glass.

  Boots looked around at the others with disgu
st, reluctantly he uttered, “Yeah, yeah, let’s go. What else are we going to do?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  SATURDAY

  Joe awakened to a blaring static noise, bouncing off the walls in intermittent bursts. He rolled over inside the green and blue, nylon sleeping bag that Hank had lent him for the night. Joe could see Hank coming into focus. He was fiddling with the converter box on a little thirteen inch TV on the back counter. The television itself looked as if it were the first color TV ever made. Hank turned down the volume dial immediately. Kate woke up too, with a groaning yawn as she stretched her arms out from within her identical sleeping bag.

  “Good Morning, sorry I didn't mean wake you like that,” Hank said, bearing a half smile.

  “Not a problem Hank. Let me come over and help you,” Joe said getting up with a yawn of his own, twisting his back.

  Joe’s thoughts went to his missing daughter, Roxy. Hoping that she had heeded his warning about staying inside the house, he knew that she was a smart girl. But that didn’t stave off a feeling of guilt that crept up inside his core as he thought about the message he left for her. She is probably worried out of her mind about Kate and me.

  Joe had tried to use the lone telephone in the General Store several times last night to call home, but the line had been dead each time he picked up the receiver of the decades-old phone. He needed to get back home to Roxy and take her and Kate away from the danger that has seized The Port. Holding out little hope that what went on at the carnival could now be under control, Joe felt unoptimistic about an encouraging outcome at this point. After all, the carnival was miles away from the General Store, and yet one of them had made it all the way out here—the woman last night that attacked Jake. Joe decided that he would try to get this television set going with Hank and then he’d ask for that ride home that Hank promised last night.

  “I'm just trying to see if I can get a signal, maybe there’s something about what happened last night on the news. So we can find out what's going on, and how all those people became those things,” Hank said.

  “Yeah, and what they’re doing about it,” Joe said wiping his eyes and taking the cables from Hank.

  The cables were in pitiful shape, part of the outer casing was melted, leaving many of the wires exposed. The plug itself was a different color. Hank must have spliced it with another cord. Joe just hoped he wouldn’t be electrocuted before he found out what the news reported.

  “Morning all,” Mary said cheerfully walking in from the kitchen area at the back of the store. She had a plate of eggs, hash browns and sausage links in her hand. The aroma of the home-cooked meal began to fill the room.

  “Good Morning Mary,” Kate said perking up, quickly rising to her feet. “That smells great.”

  “Morning,” Joe said, looking up from the wad of frayed cords. He hadn’t ever used a converter box before, he had always had satellite, but he figured it should hook up just like everything else does to a TV.

  “I made breakfast, it's in the kitchen. Help yourselves. I am going to take this plate to Jake. I am a little worried about him. He's been in the cold box for almost an hour. I think that that bite gave him an infection. He has quite a fever. If he doesn't get better soon, we may need to figure something out,” Mary said.

  “Uh, huh,” Hank said, without looking up. Mary seemed as if she knew that he’d toned her out. Rolling her eyes, she walked toward the garage door.

  “Thanks Mary, that food smells delicious. I can't wait to try some,” Kate said, heading for the kitchen.

  “No problem hon,” Mary replied, shutting the door behind her.

  Hank smacked the television on its side and then on the top, a picture almost came into focus.

  Joe jumped slightly in surprise at the whack to the TV. He continued to follow the wires from the converter box to the set, all seemed to be connected properly. Beginning to think that the connection wasn’t the problem, Joe warily eyed the frayed wires thinking that they may be the issue.

  “We're almost there Joe, try wiggling the yellow one,” Hank said happily pointing at a tattered cable.

  “Ha-ha!” Joe said as he peered at the screen. What looked like a newscast during a blizzard came into fuzzy focus. The screen flickered a few times, before clearing right up.

  “Well done, Joe my friend,” Hank clapped and waived Joe over to the front of the television.

  Joe and Hank stood before the screen frozen, gazing into it as if they had been turned to statues. A man with perfect hair sat behind the news desk. His face clean shaven and stern, he kept shifting his eyes, perhaps reading from a teleprompter.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Roxy opened her eyes, rubbing her knuckles over her face. She sat up on the sofa and looked around the room in confusion. Finding the ladies at her side, she quickly spotted Dave across the room. Last night really did happen, she thought, looking down at the dogs disappointedly.

  “Morning,” Roxy said, getting to her feet.

  Pulling out her cell, she examined the screen, where the antenna bars usually resided in the upper right corner, instead were the words No Service. Slipping the phone back into her pocket, she could hear the twang of metal clanking and what sounded like a pipe rolling across the concrete floor downstairs.

  “Morning, well it's about 5:45, the sun is not even up and I think Mattie has been up all night long. He’s getting things together in the bags down there,” Dave motioned to the studio's window that offered a view out to the center of the garage. On the floor, three duffle bags were near the back roll up door.

  “What’s he packing in those things?” Roxy stretched her arms over her head and cracked her neck, her dogs dancing anxiously at her feet.

  “He has about five handguns, a shotgun, two hunting rifles and tons of ammo. I think he's been waiting for an attack or something,” Dave teased. “He has some food and water, a first aid kit, extra clothes, just tons of stuff. He is surprisingly well prepared and knows just what to bring.”

  “So he’s like a doomsday prepper or a hoarder. Either way, we’re in luck that he’s on our side. Do you know when we’re leaving? And what car are we taking anyway?” Roxy inquired, trying her cell again.

  “Any second now and I think it's a truck out back,” Dave said.

  Roxy pocketed the cell phone, feeling uneasy about her dad and sister’s whereabouts. Her cell had lost all service and a late night attempt revealed a dead line on Mattie’s landline. What the hell is going on? She thought back to last night, in her neighborhood and along the entire route she had traveled, not a single emergency vehicle had been spotted. She hadn’t heard a siren, seen any flashing lights, nothing. Why? Wouldn’t someone have called nine, one, one? The only reason that emergency vehicles wouldn’t respond is if there was a major crisis somewhere else in town. Roxy felt herself getting anxious at the thought of leaving. Itching to get to her family now, she only hoped that they would be at the beach house.

  “Well, looky here, now. Good mornin' darlin. Sorry 'bout all the noise, but I had to dig up some stuff I'd been storing for years. I have some coffee still in the pot if you'd like to snatch a cup before we shove off. It's still hot. But gotta warn you, it might be a little strong,” Mattie said happily as he emerged from the stairs into the studio.

  Roxy nodded and headed straight for the coffee. She began to pour a cup and could overhear the guys going over the trip ahead of them. Mattie unfolded a map and laid it flat on the coffee table. She tried reassuring herself that Dad would have gone to the beach house. She hoped that he didn’t try going home. Recalling the disarray of her neighborhood, she felt panicked at the idea. He would definitely go home first—to get me.

  “Alright then, here is where we are now,” Mattie said circling an area on the map. “Now, this here, is where we’re headed first. This is my sister Lynn's house. Then we'll take Marlin Drive. That will take us straight over to Shoreline Road. We'll just follow it down to the beach house,” Mattie said scribbling all
over the map.

  “Sounds good. So your sister's place really isn't that far from here. She's what, maybe ten blocks?” Dave said as Roxy approached with her coffee in hand.

  “Yes Sir. Alright Roxy, we've got it all planned out. This here is the route we’re gonna to take. Hopefully there ain't too many of them weirdoes all together, anywhere on the way. If we just see a few here and there, I think we can dodge ‘em. If all goes well, I think that we should make it to Lynn's place in about ten minutes or so. I don’t plan on being there long. I just radioed her a few minutes ago, and she's ready to go. Then we'll head straight out to your beach house. So, by the way I figure, we should be there in about an hour, tops,” Mattie pointed to the map, before folding it and sliding it in the back pocket of his pants.

  “You called your sister on a radio, like a walkie-talkie?” Roxy raised an eyebrow.

  “Nah, HAM radio. You know, amateur radio?” Mattie said with a smile.

  Having never heard the words, ham and radio, accompanying one another in the same sentence, a blank stare was the only feedback Roxy could offer Mattie. He waived her over to the closet off the kitchen.

  “See, this here’s my radio set up. Lynn has one that’s nearly the same. We’re both licensed HAM radio operators. I picked these babies at a yard sale for twelve dollars, five years ago. Can you believe that? I always knew that there might be some sort of emergency and that these things would save our lives. And now look at us, with the telephones not working and the cellular phones too, me and my sister can sure talk with each other. You wanna try it?”