by Jeannie Rae
“The shot you received yesterday afternoon was not a flu shot. The clinic had run out of flu vaccine and thought that they had discovered more. I am not going to bore you with the details, but it was something else entirely. You and a few other remaining patients at the clinic received an experimental serum injection. Unfortunately, it seems that all of the other patients have died. What I’m saying, is that I believe that three patients may have started all this trouble in The Port. You are the only survivor who received the inoculation. With your permission, I would like to take samples of your blood. These samples can help my team and I discover why you did not have the same reaction as the others, and possibly come up with a vaccine, or dare I say… a cure to the infection that is spreading throughout Port Steward.”
“Are you saying that the disease that is making people die, then wake up—is because of the shots that were given to us yesterday? And that I could have turned into one of those things?” Roxy asked with a mystified expression.
“Yes, I believe that to be true. That’s why it is important that I take samples from you. You likely have a natural immunity to the virus.”
“What is this serum, exactly?” Roxy asked, looking almost fearful of the answer.
“Well,” Mara hesitated, “It’s an experimental serum, definitely not ready for human patients.”
“Can you tell me anymore about it?” Roxy leaned forward, her fingernails tapping the table in frustration.
“It was originally an experimental performance enhancer. It is still in the trial stages and not ready for human trials. Before yesterday, it had only been tested on rats and chimps, yielding… unfavorable results,” Mara said.
“Unfavorable, ya think?” Mattie mumbled under his breath. Lynn nudged his shoulder offering a glare of contempt.
“Okay, it’s a performance enhancer…like protein powder or an energy drink?” Roxy asked, ignoring Mattie’s comment.
“Not quite," Mara smiled. “The favorable results would have been faster, stronger soldiers. It’s designed amplify the immune system’s regenerative qualities, increasing muscle mass and endurance—to only scratch the surface. The serum is comprised of a double-stranded DNA virus. Once inserted in the body the genetic material replicates—”
“Whoa, there doctor. Back it on up,” Mattie interrupted. “Am I alone in this, or is all this fancy, doctor-speak turning all our brains to mush?”
“Sorry. Basically, it’s made to help our soldiers heal faster, increase their strength and speed and to enhance all senses,” Mara paused, allowing time for questions.
Roxy thought back to the scene of the accident, where she had shown unbelievable strength. It had been hard for her to process that it had truly happened. Mara’s comment made her feel as though a veil that had just been lifted, revealing answers to a few anomalies that had occurred over the last day. The increased sight, hearing, smell, and of course, strength were all because of that shot. The same shot that has caused the destruction of her town.
“And so the side effects being, the disaster that is going on outside?” Roxy sighed.
“No, in the autopsies we’ve done on four patients, we’re finding that the serum is binding with the body, in different ways, in different subjects. So, if I had the virus, it would mutate my cells. But if I infected Lynn, then the virus would mutate her cells in a different way, and so on. That is what makes this such a difficult disease to cure.
“In the initial trials, performed by a colleague, only one subject was found to be naturally immune. There were also a few subjects that yielded the desired results—meaning that the serum worked. In these subjects, the blood samples had shown that the serum was accepted by their bodies. Whereas the remaining subjects exhibited much of the same signs as the people outside, their bodies rejected the serum. The estimates of the serum binding perfectly with a subject, in its current formulation are very rare. For someone to be immune, the odds are far more uncommon. We ran a preliminary testing of our own only a few hours ago, all of our subjects rejected the serum and transformed into cannibalistic monsters.
“It seems that, in the subjects that reject the serum, the virus invades the liver and multiplies before invading the blood stream, which causes a massive infection that eventually leads to the death of the subject. It is at this point that any formed antibodies die off, but the virus continues to spread throughout the body. Stay with me here. Because the subjects have died, they have lost nearly all brain function. The virus reactivates a small portion of the brain, only the basic survival functions remain. This leads to the subjects being reanimated after death—or waking back up. At this point, their bodies are no longer producing the nutrients needed, so they seek them out. It just so happens that other humans contain those vital nutrients that the infected bodies need. That’s why they are biting the uninfected,” Mara explained.
Roxy looked down at her reflection in the glass tabletop, while soaking in Mara’s claims. She noticed that her eyes were continuing to change color. They weren’t hazel as Dave had mentioned at Lynn's house, but entirely green. How could that be? My eyes are changing color...This must have something to do with the injection.
“So what you're saying is that Roxy is the best chance you've got for helping those people out there,” Mattie said winking at Roxy. “I imagine you'd pay her a lot of money for lettin’ you take samples of her blood. I know, I would.”
Roxy smiled slyly. “I'll let you take your samples—for free, under one condition.”
“What's that?” Mara asked wearily.
“My dogs come in with me. If they can’t go, then I won't go,” Roxy said.
Mara could tell by Roxy's demeanor that she wasn't kidding. “Deal.”
CHAPTER FIFTY
Joe glanced back from the passenger seat of Shotgun's SUV, to see Kate, battling with her eyelids, in an effort to keep her eyes open. She had been through a lot these past couple days. Her white tee showcased an array of smudges and her green hoodie—draped across her lap—donned a grease stain on one sleeve from the accident on the Harley. A rubber band that she had found in The General Store secured her tangled brown locks in a loose bun at the back of her head. She looks so much like her mother.
Both of his daughters took on so many of his late-wife’s features, from their almond shaped eyes and their bushy eyebrows –that take them forever to pluck—to their cute little noses and tiny ears. But that’s not where the similarities end. At times, they would use her quirky phrases or would form the same facial expressions. In the beginning, it had been difficult for him to be reminded at every turn of his lost love, but now, it actually makes him feel closer to his beloved to see so much of her in his girls.
Joe felt equally drained of all energy. But the thought of getting to safety and being reunited with his eldest daughter, gave him a renewed positive outlook to this whole situation. Relief filled Joe in knowing that Roxy remained unharmed. She was traveling to a safe place, and would soon be joined by her family.
Joe turned his attention to Shotgun, who drove the vehicle with his eyes nearly bugging out of his head as he surveyed the roads ahead. Realizing that they hadn't spoken since getting on the road, Joe felt a little ashamed that he'd gotten so lost in thought that he had all but ignored the man who would reunite his family. Joe's mind raced to try to come up something with to break the silence.
“So Shotgun, are you from around here?”
“Yes Sir, born and raised. You?” Shotgun's eyes didn't deviate from the road.
“Pretty much, I've lived here for longer than I haven't,” Joe said with a smile.
After a static sound, “Shotgun, come in,” a voice demanded from Shotgun’s phone.
Shotgun pulled a yellow and black, rubberized phone from his utility belt.
“Go ahead boss,” Shotgun said into the phone.
“Do you have the packages?” The voice asked.
“I do, we are about an hour out,” Shotgun looked briefly at Joe. “Boss, the dad wants
to talk to the kid.”
“Shotgun! Secure radio protocol!” The voice paused briefly, “She’s in another area of the building, call me in ten minutes, and not on the radio.”
“Will do.”
Shotgun clipped the phone back on his belt and raised an eyebrow to Joe, who nodded.
Joe wanted to speak with his Roxy this instant. Last night had been a long and nearly sleepless night, mulling over the decision of bringing Kate to The General Store. He had flip-flopped, at least a dozen times, over the course of the early morning hours second guessing his decision to not try for the house on foot last night. This being the closest he’d been to reunifying his family, ten minutes would be a price he could afford.
“Ten minutes will be fine. So how long have you been working for Angora?” Joe asked.
“A few years, I couldn't imagine doing anything else. The security team is great. It sounds a little cheesy, but we’re not just coworkers, it’s more like a brotherhood or a family,” Shotgun cracked a smile. “What do you do for a living Joe?”
“I'm a welder, have been for about twenty-three years,” he paused for a moment looking out the passenger window. A loud roar of an engine passed over head. It sounded as if a super-powered lawn mower had been thrown over the truck. “What the...”
Joe watched as a low flying helicopter burst up from behind a nearby house. The chopper swerved erratically across the sky. The roar alerted Kate, who said something, but Joe couldn't make it out. The aircraft zigzagged across the sky above the road and nearby houses. It disappeared over the Expedition and then reemerged on the other side—and continued to do so, which only added to Joe’s apprehension, as a trail of black smoke from the tail propeller drew graffiti in the sky.
Shotgun seemed equally caught off guard, trying to adjust his speed, so that the helicopter didn’t fly directly above the vehicle. Until now, they had only spotted a few infected. Thanks to Shotgun's attentiveness to the road, they were able to get around the broken down cars and infected in the streets with relative ease thus far. But the chopper’s deafening roar engaged the attention of the infected. Joe could see more and more of them emerging from opened doors of houses, from between buildings and alley ways. In addition to the speed changes, Shotgun swerved frequently to avoid hitting the infected.
The helicopter flew past them and zigzagged further up the road. The infected advanced relentlessly, their interest turned from the aircraft in the sky, to the SUV driving on the same road as them. A woman on the sidewalk ran straight for the truck, slamming herself against the side of the vehicle.
Countless others followed her example by smashing themselves into the sides of the Expedition. Then, more in the distance, began to race head-on toward the SUV. Joe looked in the side mirror and could see just as many behind, racing after them. He could feel the vehicle accelerate, faster and faster, making it clear that Shotgun struggled to out run them. The beefy SUV began to collide with the ones ahead, racing toward them. Repeating thuds resonated through the vehicle as it bounced around forcefully from striking and running over the maniacs in the street.
Kate’s piercing screams from the backseat, sent a rush of panic through Joe. He wanted to turn back to her, but couldn’t take his eyes off the road, almost feeling that if he looked away something may happen.
“Kate close your eyes and lay on the seat, but keep your seat belt on,” Joe yelled without turning back.
After three tumultuous blocks of running down infected, the road ahead began to clear. They were outdriving the majority of the infected, but were catching up with the helicopter, which began its decent in a tail spin. Shotgun took a sharp left onto the next street, the tires of the SUV squealing under the pressure of the turn. The street swarmed with infected, and was inundated with discarded cars morphing the road into an obstacle course. He took a quick right, to escape gathering infected that stood ahead. Joe could see the helicopter spinning outside his window, only a few feet above the vehicle—it was coming down. As Shotgun sped up, screeching reverberated through the vehicle, as one of the landing posts on the helicopter scraped the roof of the SUV. The vehicle jostled violently, both passenger tires lifting from the pavement. Immediately outside Shotgun’s window, the overhead helicopter propeller chopped into the asphalt, busting up bulky chunks of pavement, sending them soaring through the air. The chopper collided with the ground, exploding upon impact. A flash of flames erupted from the wreckage, rocketing the SUV into the air like a toy car.
Joe pressed one hand to the roof of the vehicle, while the other clutched the handle above the window, as the truck sailed away from the blast. He tried to look back at Kate, but the force of the blast would not allow it. The vehicle flipped numerous times, before his head smashed into the window, everything turning to darkness.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Dave gently guided Roxy into the conference room on the second floor of Angora. He held her at the elbow and wrapped his other arm around her back. Her dogs sauntered in at her side, looking as if they felt the same way as their human. Roxy’s pale face and dulled eyes made her appear as though she had come down with an illness.
“Are you alright?” Mattie approached with an unsettling look in his eyes.
“I'm fine Mattie, just not that good with blood,” she muttered.
Mattie helped Dave usher Roxy to a seat on one of the cots that the cleaning crew had arranged for them. She sat back and closed her eyes for a moment.
Dave watched Roxy lie still on the cot and knew that she would be fine, but that didn’t stop his concern from showing through. Her slightly tangled, brown hair rested on her bare shoulders and tank top, and her delicate face appeared tense as she attempted to relax. This girl was turning out to be like nothing he’d expected. When Dave first met her in the park—he knew she needed help and deep down, he wanted to keep her safe and to feel needed. But in the short time he’s known her, although it felt like weeks now, she’d surprised him a couple of times. Now, with this whole immunity thing to the disease rampaging the town, he realized that there was much more to this girl than he ever could have guessed. He folded her brown blouse and placed it on the foot of the cot and glanced around the conference room.
The room is on the second floor and looks like a meeting hall, capable of comfortably accommodating approximately fifteen people. The floor has an earthy, sand-colored, multi-tone carpet, and the walls are a sable color with inspirational pictures upon them. Photos of people working together, with words like 'courage' and 'teamwork' are displayed beneath each picture. It is an interior room with no windows. A large cherry wood table is positioned in the corner of the room with refreshments atop. The cleaning crew had moved it from its original location in the center of the room to make room for the cots they brought in. There are four cots in the center of the room now, each outfitted with a sheet set, a granite-colored, polyester blanket and a pillow. The fifteen or so chairs that belong to the table, now line the walls.
Roxy took a deep breath, “Dave, could you please get me a glass of water?”
Hurrying to the table and pouring her cold water from a glass pitcher, Dave brought the half filled, clear plastic cup to Roxy.
“How much blood did they take?” Mattie scrunched his face in worry.
“Oh, who knows? It feels like almost all of it,” Roxy whispered sarcastically.
“Maybe you should eat something,” Dave suggested.
“How ‘bout some bread. That always helps me when I'm hung over. And well, let’s be honest here darling, you look hung over. Drunk on lack of blood,” Mattie joked fetching a roll from the table.
“Thanks…Mattie,” Roxy whispered, barely able to let the words through her lips. “I'll be fine, just let me take a little nap. Where’s Lynn?”
“Restroom, drying her eyes—she’s still all broke up about what happened to Edgar. She’ll be back in a bit. You take that nap. I’m sure you’ll be feeling better before you know it,” Mattie said.
The guys left
her alone on the cot to get some rest, making their way to the chairs along the wall. Rogue took two circles, then stretched out on the floor beside Roxy's bed. Gypsy sat beside her bed for a moment before sneaking away and approaching Dave. She sat directly in front of him, staring up at his face awaiting some attention. Dave looked at Mattie and smiled. He leaned forward and began rubbing her silky head.
“Uh-oh, it looks like we have a convert,” Mattie smiled.
“You know she looks so tough, but she's really just a lover,” Dave said, scratching the grayish dog behind the ears.
Petting the dog gave Dave a slight feeling of comfort and normalcy. He thought that Gypsy followed him because she might have sensed his apprehension to the current situation. Whatever the reason, he was grateful that she had.
Although the circumstances under which they met were not in any way normal, Dave was thankful to have met Roxy. Sure, she was a few years younger than him, but he could hardly tell by her demeanor. He felt something with her that he hadn’t felt in quite some time, happiness. The thought struck him as insane—with all that is happening, how could I possibly think that I’m happy? Dave hadn’t had a purpose since being discharged from the service. A typical day had been work, watch some TV, sleep, and repeat— the same thing every day, until now. What had begun as helping a girl and her dogs in the park, now had a whole new dynamic. They had been through so much in the short time since they’d met, and now, he felt a close bond with her, a friendship, and possibly more.
“You know, I have a funny feeling about this place,” Dave confessed, his mind taking a different approach, “I completely understand why they took our weapons at the security desk, but I have a feeling that we aren’t going to get them back when we leave.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing I hid all the rest in my truck,” Mattie said grinning.
