Rise of the Plague (Book 1): Endemic

by Jeannie Rae

  Shotgun took a hasty peek around the bush, and then snuck to the face of the mint green, corner house. Soon joined by Kate, then Joe, they all stood still at the face of the house for a moment surveying the area, looking to see if anyone had detected them. Much to Joe's amazement, they seemed to go unnoticed. Between the helicopter and truck fires, the attention of infected was focused elsewhere.

  Joe spotted the boy. He stood directly behind the bush where they had been only seconds ago. He nearly missed the kid standing there. Only the top half of his head was visible from atop the bush. The child's soulless eyes were locked and fixed on Joe.

  Shotgun and Kate began to move. Joe hesitated. He sees me, what am I going to do, just stand here forever? He began to move, following Kate's every step. He looked back at the boy, who rounded the shrub, walking in the same direction as them. They were putting some distance between themselves and the boy, although Joe didn’t think that Kate or Shotgun had seen the kid yet.

  Suddenly, a high pitched howl blasted from behind them. They all paused, redirecting their attention toward the bloodthirsty call. It was the boy, his head cocked back and lips to the sky. He was dispatching the others. Nearly in unison, the others in the area stopped and turned their attention to the boy. He dropped his head back down and snarled his teeth like one lion would do to another. The boy abruptly broke into a full-fledged run toward them, with other infected in pursuit.

  “GO!” Shotgun yelled.

  He pushed Kate and Joe ahead of him and began firing his MP-Five at the infected. He trailed not far behind Kate and Joe.

  Kate sprinted steady and nimble with Joe right behind her like a silhouette. She maneuvered around rose bushes and planter boxes hanging from window sills as they raced by. She took a hurried left to go around a picket fence that surrounded the next house's yard.

  Running down the sidewalk now, Joe heard Shotgun's weapon firing again. He turned back to see Shotgun, a few yards behind them jogging sideways, his weapon spraying the crowd following them. The bullets deflected chunks of flesh from the infected, as most of the shots seemed untargeted. Few rounds found themselves in the skulls of the infected, taking them down immediately.

  “Heads!” Joe called back to Shotgun, “Try shooting them in the heads.”

  “I'm trying!” he yelled back. “Left at the next street.”

  Kate stole a quick glance back, maintaining her speed while crossing the street. The howl came again. More infected began to pour out of yards of the upcoming houses. An infected woman burst from the yard on the corner, darting into the road. The woman’s bloody, plaid nightgown cupped her doughy body as she charged Kate. Without hesitation, Joe lifted his gun and fired. The gun felt heavy in his hand, and recoiled as the bullet rocketed from the firearm. Meeting its mark, the bullet struck the woman in the side of the face. Her head whipped backward from the force of the gunshot, her body following in momentum, tumbling to the ground and rolling a few times before her carcass lay still at last, face down. Kate rounded the corner as two men dressed as painters charged from an open door of the house across the street. Joe fired off three shots taking down the men just before they reached her. More and more infected continued to flood the streets before them. Joe began shooting ahead of Kate as some were already to the middle of the street racing toward her.

  Joe heard Shotgun's shots change directions, he looked back briefly to see that there were infected behind him, in the gap of space separating Shotgun and himself. Some of them were running toward Shotgun and others were pursuing him. They sprinted down the road on Joe’s heels, with their eyes peeled back so far, it seemed as though their eyelids were nonexistent. Their growls and howls, sent shivers down Joe’s spine as the distance between shrank exponentially with each passing second.

  Joe could feel an upsurge of real terror and desperation pulse through him. The great gate to Angora remained out of view, and he was sure that they wouldn’t make it another block, as even more man-eaters besieged the streets, closing in on them.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  Inside her basement laboratory, Mara heard an alert through the intercom speakers mounted on the ceiling. There were monitors in various locations of the lab, for Mara to see who stood outside her door. She glanced up to see Roxy’s acquaintances. Taking special notice of Roxy’s absence, gave her a slight feeling of unease.

  “Lex, will you buzz them in? Have them go to my office. I'll be there in just a second,” Mara said, pulling off her safety goggles and latex gloves, as she headed to a nearby sink to wash up.

  After cleaning up, Mara hurried to her office to find out what this impromptu visit was all about.

  “Good Afternoon everyone, is everything alright?” Mara asked, emerging through the door.

  Mara thought of Roxy and the state she had been in when she left the lab. Poor thing couldn’t handle having her blood drawn. Mara now felt concern for her conspicuously missing patient.

  Mattie and Lynn sat at a small table toward the end of Mara's office. Dave stood, pacing the length of the table, the two dogs passively following.

  “Do you know where Roxy is?” Dave stopped pacing and looked at Mara.

  “No, I haven't seen her since you both left earlier, after I took the samples. What is going on, is she missing?” Mara asked.

  “Randy came and got her, while I was in the washroom. He said that you needed more samples and that the samples you took were tainted or something. He mentioned a clean area,” Dave's voice strained.

  “I can't take any more blood from Roxy right now, it would be unsafe. The samples I took are pristine. There’s nothing wrong with them. There must be some misunderstanding...” Mara paused, her mind racing for the solution as to how this misinterpretation could have occurred.

  “Does he have a radio or something, some way to get a hold of him?” Dave offered.

  “Yes, I’ll call security right now and get this straightened out,” Mara said rounding her desk.

  “Dave, what do ya think is going on?” Mattie asked, eyeing Mara as she leaned over her desk speaking into the phone receiver.

  “It's not good Mattie. Randy has a tendency of getting violent…and possessive. Did you see the way he looked at Roxy back at Lynn's house? He stared at her the whole way here—like that. We have to find her, fast.”

  “He is not answering his radio,” Mara began. “One of the security guards saw him with Roxy a few minutes ago on the seventh floor. He is rolling back the security footage to see where they went. We can take the elevator up there now, to get a head start.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  Randy strode to an unmarked door approximately thirty feet from the elevator on the seventh floor. His boots thumped with every step. He looked too official to Roxy, with his all black uniform, a belt with all sorts of equipment—including a hunting knife and a gun, and something about his facial expression made him seem all business. Serious—too serious. He shook the knob to an average looking door and opened it.

  “Right in here,” Randy’s voice commanded as he ushered Roxy inside.

  Roxy entered the room and found it a bit underwhelming. Looking around the room, it didn’t appear to be as clean as she had imagined. She envisioned that the clean room would be like something out of a movie, with masks and suits, a room somewhat sealed off from the rest of the world. This room appeared to be quite regular. It simply looked like an exam room, with a blood pressure cuff on the wall, along with an ear scope, a standard exam table near the wall, a small round table with two chairs and a rolling stool. The walls were a blinding shade of white, offset by a cream colored tile floor, and in the air lingered a faint smell of rubbing alcohol. Across the room from where they had entered, a white counter lined the wall with matching cupboards both above and below it. The counter held a few clear, glass jars containing individually wrapped tongue depressors and oversized cotton swabs.

  “Are we in the right place? Where’s Mara?” Roxy’s voice spiked, turning to Randy.


  Randy looked at her in amusement, “Oh, yes. We are definitely… in the right place,” he turned his back to Roxy, toward the door.

  Roxy heard a subtle, distinctive sound—the sound of a deadbolt being locked. Randy slowly turned around, his eyes fixed on her. Roxy could barely breathe, her heart pounding like a drum set in a teenager’s garage. This feels all wrong. He slowly began to advance toward her, with that same look in his eyes—like in the SUV and in the hallway—like a predator stalking its prey.

  “Randy,” she paused, “What are you doing?”

  “I need some one on one time with you Roxy,” he whispered. His glowing eyes traced her face as though they were devouring her.

  “You could have just asked. You didn't have to lie to me,” she said, fidgeting.

  “You're right, but you may have said no. Or had questions. Or involved Dave. Dave would never have let me be alone with you,” he said, still stalking forward.

  “You don't know that. What did you want to talk about?” Her breathless voice now sounded fearful.

  “I didn't say anything about talking. I said I needed time with you,” he stopped, standing before her, a devilish grin sweeping across his face, as he inhaled her scent through his nostrils.

  “Time for what?” She asked.

  Trying to draw up courage, she stood tall and stared him in the eyes. As she did so, she studied his eyes thoroughly, finding that they were unlike any color she’d ever seen. They were vaguely familiar, an intriguing shade of blue—nearly out of the color spectrum. He stood silent before her. He didn't need to speak. She could feel him without even touching him. He seemed strangely familiar to her as if she somehow knew him. While certain that today was the first day she’d ever set eyes on him, the familiarity of him was overpowering. It was as if she were drawn to him on a subconscious level. He could feel it too, she could see it in his eyes. Her heart pounded so hard, and in that moment, she could hear his pounding heart, as well.

  She broke the stare and looked down. Shaking her head, “Who are you?”

  “Who…is the wrong question. What…would be the right one,” his bottomless voice riddled.

  “What?” She whispered.

  “I am as you are,” he said coyly, his fingertips caressing her cheek.

  Turning her face sharply away from his hand, the hair on the back of her neck stood. What is he doing? Is he trying to come on to me?

  “What is that supposed to mean?” She turned, stepping to the side.

  Slamming his arm against the wall, he blocked her path.

  “We are the same. You see, we are meant for each other. I have been looking for you for years,” he smiled, his eyes sweeping over her face. “And now, I've found you.”

  Roxy looked into his oddly colored eyes. There is something about him. The way he looks at me and the way he smells, it’s too…recognizable. What is it? And what does he mean looking for me for years? Roxy sighed, taking her focus off him.

  “You’re a space cadet. Seriously, I really think that you’ve lost your mind,” she turned the other way and stepped toward the door.

  Randy quickly side stepped, intervening in her path. He stood before her like a solid wall. She attempted to go around him, but he moved with her at the same time, as if he knew what moves she would make before she did.

  “Do you love him?” Randy narrowed his eyes at her.

  “Who?” She asked defensively.

  “Dave. So you want to be with him?”

  “That’s not your business. Why are you asking me this? There are bigger things happening right now,” she furrowed her brow.

  “Tell me, have you shared a kiss?” He smirked.

  “No. Not that it’s any of your business, but no, we haven’t,” she said shaking her head. “Look, I’m worried about my family. I just want to see them. I am not interested…romantically in anyone right now. Not Dave…and not you.”

  “That’s good—about not kissing him—for him at least. You might want to think twice before you go doing something you’ll regret,” he said cryptically.

  “What are talking you about?” Roxy began to feel like this guy spoke in another language. What could I possibly regret about a kiss?

  “You’re not immune… I’m sure that Mara has figured it out by now. You’re infected. Sure, you’re not like the others out there—killing and eating each other. But you are infected, regardless. A carrier. So don’t think for a second that you can’t pass that infection along to others. Do you know how this infection spreads?”

  “The bites,” she answered, giving little thought to his statement.

  “The bites, mainly. It’s spread through spit. Body fluids actually, blood, saliva, if it’s liquid and from your body, all it would take is one little cut, maybe from brushing his teeth too hard, and you’ve shared your special gift with him. So tell me, do you want to take that chance—to see if he’s a carrier too?”

  “I’m immune. Mara said—” Roxy started, feeling off-balance from how the conversation had turned.

  “No, you’re not, she’s wrong.”

  Roxy began to actually contemplate what Randy said. It wasn’t completely out of the realm of reality. Could I really infect others? And how does he know so much about me and this infection? Last time I checked, he was a security guard, not a scientist. Has Mara been discussing my condition with this nut-job?

  A huge grin extended across his face once again as he stepped toward her. With each step forward he took, she took one back until she bumped the wall behind her. He drew his face close to hers, his cheek nearly even with hers.

  “I can help you. You will need help. There is so much I need to teach you. I can show you the way,” he whispered in her ear.

  Roxy felt as if her fear of him began melting away, revealing the rage beneath the surface. Feeling weak and cornered, she couldn’t bear another second of it. She hated being frail and decided in that moment—enough. Her thoughts turned to the accident on the way to Angora, and the strength that she had shown when she saw someone needed help. Now she needed help. I am strong, unbelievably strong. I shouldn't be afraid of him—he should be afraid of me.

  She straightened out her stance, her shoulders felt broad and strong. Raising her head, she glared into his liquid-blue eyes.

  Randy seemed a slightly confused by her change in posture, squinting his eyes at her and firming up his jaw line.

  “Move out of my way,” Roxy's voice thundered.

  Randy stood up straight and puffed out his chest, his body language almost daring her to make him move. She pulled her hands up quickly and shoved him aggressively in the chest. Before Randy could react, he sailed across the room. He slid to a stop, just before hitting the wall across from Roxy. The look on his face told that he hadn't expected that. She watched as his surprise turned to frustration.

  Roxy eyed the door at her right and started for it. Randy scrambled across the floor gripping her ankle, tripping her. She came down with a thud on the tile floor, her forearms and hands slapping the floor. Wasting no time getting to her feet, she could hear pounding coming from outside the door—less than two feet away. Randy was already standing, waiting for her. She tried to go for the door, but Randy demonstrated his agility. He grabbed her bare shoulders with both fists and tossed her toward the back wall like a rag doll, her body slamming into the cupboards below the counter. Lifting herself onto one knee, with both palms to the floor, she glared at her captor. He stood there for a moment, pointing his chin, seeming to take in his moment of superiority.

  That’s when it hit her. The revelation smacked her like a tennis racquet to the head. It all made sense to her now, the smell, the familiarity, all of it. She knew what he meant. She knew why he seemed so familiar. Randy is right, we are the same.

  As Roxy tried to stand from her knee, Randy charged her. She reached down beside her as he drew nearer and grasped a metal leg on the rolling stool. When he came close enough, she swung. The seat of the stool struck him in the side o
f the head and neck. Falling back onto the exam table and knocking it over, he slid a few feet from her, blocking her path to the door.

  She leapt over his body and dashed for the exit. Unlocking the door, she glanced back—he had already made it to his feet. Breathlessly, she yanked the door open.

  Relief coursed through Roxy’s body, as she discovered Dave standing outside the door. He pulled Roxy from the doorway and positioned her behind him, the ladies encircling her, eagerly brushing past her legs with each pass. Locating Mattie and Lynn to her left, with Mara, Boots, and Rhino standing next to Dave, she turned her attention back to Randy. He stood, chest heaving intensely, glaring at the group just outside the doorway.

  “Let's go,” Roxy whispered to Dave. Her whole body felt jittery, her palms moist with perspiration.

  “You're not going anywhere! You need me! Mark my words Roxy…you need me,” Randy barked, barbarically charging the door.

  Rhino and Boots stepped in the doorway. Randy stopped short, his penetrating stare at Roxy unwavering.

  “Take them off this floor doc,” Boots said out of breath, closing the door behind him.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  The squealing tires to the pavement sounded like a firework jetting into the sky just before the explosion. The engine roared mercilessly in acceleration as it rounded the corner. There were about forty infected out in front of the truck—not running away, but rather—running toward something down the road. They continued to pour out onto the road from alley ways and side streets. The front bumper of the truck struck the first one from behind. It went down with a mere thump. With a sharp tug on the steering wheel, three more went down. Gaining speed, the truck knocked infected out of the way like an angry elephant protecting her young. As the truck approached the trio, it edged closer to them. The three had heard the driver coming, but the danger was too fast approaching, for them to slow their pace by looking back.