HOT ZONE: A Post-Apocalyptic Pandemic Thriller (The Zulu Virus Chronicles Book 1)

by Steven Konkoly

  “Well, you snuck up on us pretty good,” said David. “Are you the landowner?”

  “Nope. Just a concerned party,” said Larsen. “Needed to check you guys out before I moved on.”

  “I can’t see you,” said David. “But I get the impression you’re more than just a concerned party.”

  “More like a none-of-your-concern party,” said Larsen.

  “Funny,” said David.

  “Do you know what’s happening out there?” said Emma.

  “I go where they send me,” said Larsen.

  “I know what’s going on,” said Chang, appearing from behind a nearby tree.

  “Jesus. How many people are out here?” said Jack.

  Larsen shook his head. “You were supposed to hang back where it’s safe, Dr. Chang.”

  “These people are safe. I could tell by the surveillance feed,” said the scientist. “They’re trying to get out of here just like you and me.”

  “That doesn’t mean they’re safe,” said Larsen.

  Chang cracked a red chemlight and tossed it between the Harpers and the cop.

  “Damn it,” muttered Larsen.

  He raised his NVGs and stepped forward, keeping his rifle at low ready, still not sure what the cop, or any of them, might do. Chang moved next to him.

  “I really think we should head back to the house,” said Larsen. “They might be infected.”

  “They don’t look or act infected,” said Chang.

  “I may not be a world-renowned virologist,” said Larsen. “But even I know that what you said is complete nonsense in the virus world.”

  “You have a point,” said Chang. “I have a thermometer back at the house. If they’re not running a fever, I can’t imagine any scenario in which they’re infected. The virus was most likely released two to three weeks ago.”

  “Released?” said Jack. “Like a weapon?”

  “That’s what I suspect.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” said David, taking a few steps forward.

  Larsen tensed, ready to raise his rifle. “This is a bad idea, Chang. Time to go.”

  “Wait a minute,” said the police officer. “You think this is a bioweapons attack?”

  “That’s what I suspect,” said Chang. “I work in a related field, which is why this gentleman has been assigned to protect me.”

  And then ordered to kill him.

  David studied Larsen for a moment, no doubt seeing the blood sprayed on his tactical vest. The cop kept a tight poker face—betraying nothing.

  “We need to keep moving,” said David, directing his comment at the Harpers. “The quicker we’re out of here, the better, especially if doctor doom over here is right about this being a bioweapons attack.”

  “Dr. Chang. Eugene Chang.”

  “David Olson. Officer David Olson. Westfield police.”

  “Why are you leaving on foot?” said Chang.

  “Sounds like he left without telling anyone,” said Larsen.

  “That’s part of the problem,” said David. “The bigger part is the brigade combat team from 10th Mountain Division that will fully arrive by midday, reinforcing the outer quarantine boundary around Indianapolis. I’d like to be gone before the bulk of that brigade arrives,” said David.

  “I ran into a roadblock a few minutes north of here,” said Chang. “Just soldiers.”

  “The vehicles and helicopters will be here soon. Hundreds of them,” said David. “All equipped with highly sophisticated sensor equipment.”

  “What’s your plan to get out of here?” said Chang.

  “Head northwest from here and cross under Route 421. Put as much distance as possible between ourselves and Indianapolis,” said David.

  “I have a better idea. Gather up your weapons and call your son over,” said Chang.

  David whistled sharply, repeating the sound three more times. His son responded with the same number of whistles.

  “He’s on his way over,” said David. “What’s your better idea?”

  “You’re coming with us.”

  “Whoa! What do you mean we’re coming with you?”

  “Chang,” said Larsen, shaking his head vigorously, “not a good idea.”

  “We’re going to bring them,” said Chang, “if they want to come.”

  “We don’t even know if they’re infected!” said Larsen.

  “We can figure that out at the house,” said Chang. “It’s on the way.”

  “Bring us where?” said Jack.

  “I have a Cessna Stationair at the Indianapolis Executive Airport a few miles northwest of here. If we ditch most of the gear we’re carrying, I can take off with everyone,” said Chang.

  The plan wouldn’t work with six people. Sneaking into a presumably guarded hangar and taking off under fire would be dicey enough with the two of them, but six was impossible. On top of that, tripling their weight would mean a long takeoff. Twice as long on the runway as a target. Bringing them along would severely jeopardize their chance of success.

  “Are you crazy?” said Larsen. “This is way too many people. The 10th Mountain Division will have a presence at the airfield.”

  “We’re all headed in the same direction anyway,” said Chang. “They can decide if they want to get on the plane when we get there. The last place on earth anyone wants to be is inside this quarantine zone.”

  “I can attest to that,” said Jack. “Indianapolis is on the brink of complete collapse.”

  “The suburbs aren’t in great shape either. My department is probably one shift away from falling apart. I took a bullet to the head on my last call,” said David, removing his ball cap to reveal a bandage. “Just grazed me.”

  “You said you cut it on some glass,” said the cop’s son, appearing in the red light.

  “I didn’t want to stress you out more than you already were,” said David. “This is my son, Joshua.”

  “Please excuse me if I don’t shake hands,” said Chang. “I’ve invited you and your father to fly out of here on my airplane.”

  “That sounds awesome,” said Joshua.

  “Really bad idea, Chang,” repeated Larsen. “I can’t stress this enough.”

  “Your objection is noted,” said Chang.

  Larsen shrugged his shoulders. Chang didn’t fully grasp how this might play out. If they reached the airfield and Larsen determined it was impossible to get six people on the plane without jeopardizing his own escape—one or more of these people weren’t getting on that aircraft.

  “How far can you take us in the plane?” said Jack.

  “I plan to head north. I could land near your parents’ house. Officer Olson, I can put you wherever you’d like as long as it’s on the way north.”

  “Count us in,” said Emma, glancing at her husband, who nodded in agreement.

  “We’d really appreciate it,” said Jack. “You can drop us off wherever we can get cell service. My parents will drive down and get us.”

  “Jack, I have a satellite phone. You can call them when we get in the air and let them know you’re on the way,” said Chang. “I’ll still take you all the way.”

  “That would be incredible,” said Jack. “Thank you.”

  “Officer Olson?” said Chang.

  The deep thumping of helicopter rotors echoed through the forest.

  “I’ll hold off on making a final decision until we get a look at the airport.”

  “Fair enough,” said Chang.

  “Larsen?”

  He nodded, not sure what he was agreeing to. Larsen’s thoughts lingered on the mention of a satellite phone.

  “Dr. Chang,” said Larsen, “can I use your phone?”

  “Sure. As long as you don’t plan on calling your headquarters,” said Chang, smiling nervously at a joke nobody else could understand.

  “No. I need to call my wife and warn her,” said Larsen. “I don’t know how far these people will go once they discover what I’ve done.”

&nbs
p; “Certainly,” said Dr. Chang, handing him the phone.

  “What’s going on here?” said David. “Who is this guy?”

  While Larsen dialed his wife’s cell phone, he heard Chang’s response.

  “He’s my only hope of surviving the night, and I trust him implicitly.”

  The last part of Chang’s sentence hung in the air like an anvil as he waited for Caroline’s voicemail to pick up.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Emma Harper waited a few seconds, after Dr. Chang and his bodyguard stepped through the door next to the patio, before turning to her husband.

  “I don’t like this Larsen guy,” she whispered. “Did you notice the blood on his vest and sleeves?”

  “I saw it,” said Jack. “Something’s off.”

  “Maybe we should leave,” said Emma.

  “We’re all going in the same direction—”

  “Supposedly,” said Emma, turning to David Olson. “What do you think? You had to have noticed the blood.”

  “The blood and his latest generation gear,” said David. “He’s not private security. My guess is government or military, but like you said—something is off.”

  “If Larsen was sent by the government or military, they wouldn’t need to sneak out of the quarantine zone like the rest of us,” said Emma.

  “Exactly,” said David. “Judging by the blood, something went wrong somewhere. I find it hard to believe Larsen would have been sent alone.”

  “You think he killed his own team?” said Joshua.

  “I don’t know what to think,” said David. “All I know is that I’m going to keep a very close eye on Larsen. I suggest you do the same. Let them take the lead on the way to the airfield.”

  “I didn’t like what Larsen said about the airfield being guarded,” said Jack.

  “Neither did I,” said David. “And judging from the frequent helicopter sounds, I’m not optimistic about the plane-ride option. The airfield would be a logical place to land helicopters.”

  “Whatever you decide at the airfield, we’ll follow,” said Emma. “I trust your judgment.”

  “So do I,” said Jack.

  “You don’t even know me,” said David.

  “No offense, but we’re low on options,” said Emma, suddenly laughing at her bluntness.

  The rest of them laughed, too, even if it was nervous laughter more than anything.

  “I guess we’re all in the same boat,” said David. “If the airfield is a bust, we’ll keep going. I can keep us out of sight, even during the day. It’ll be slow going, but eventually we’ll get a cell signal. Did you bring food with you?”

  Jack nodded. “We did. Enough for a few days. Plus a water filter.”

  “Perfect,” said David. “We’ll be set in case we have to hide out during the day tomorrow. Once we get farther away from the quarantine zone, we’ll make really good time.”

  “Maybe Chang will let us use his phone to call my parents,” said Jack. “We could give them a rendezvous point that we can easily reach within twenty-four hours.”

  “I didn’t want to say anything earlier, but I’m not so keen on using Chang’s satellite phone,” said David. “If Chang and Larsen are on the run and that phone somehow falls into the wrong hands, those wrong hands will have a record of your parents’ number. If they’re on the run from the government? All bets are off. We fly far enough out of here to get a cell signal and part ways.”

  “They’re coming,” said Joshua.

  A few moments later, Larsen emerged holding two rifles and what looked like a few sets of helmet-equipped night-vision goggles. Chang pushed past him.

  “I have a forehead thermometer,” he said. “We can confirm what I already suspect. That none of you are infected.”

  Less than a minute later, the Olsons and Harpers had passed Chang’s test, showing normal temperatures.

  “Emma and Jack, do you mind if I ask you a question?” said Chang.

  “I suppose,” said Emma.

  “Eric overheard—”

  “Larsen. Please,” said the bodyguard. “Unless you want to give them my address and social security number, too.”

  Chang rolled his eyes. “Larsen overheard you say something leading him to believe that everyone in your neighborhood showed signs of infection,” said Chang. “Is that true?”

  “More or less,” said Jack. “I didn’t come across everyone, but the neighbors on both sides were sick, and nearly everyone we saw on the streets looked glitchy. We didn’t stick around long.”

  “One of our neighbors cooked our dog,” blurted Emma.

  “Eric mentioned that,” said Chang. “I’m very sorry.”

  Emma wanted to cry, but it wasn’t the right time. She cleared her throat and wiped her eyes.

  “I don’t think we would have escaped if we’d stayed much longer,” she said.

  Chang nodded sympathetically, glancing at Larsen before continuing. “It sounds like the problems in the suburbs are a symptom of people getting infected in the city, which makes sense given the way a virus like this would be unleashed. If Indianapolis was attacked through the water system, the most likely method of virus distribution, anyone that worked in Indianapolis and lived in the suburbs would be infected. Anyone visiting the city and drinking water at a restaurant or friend’s house could also get infected. Everyone living in the city or affected area would be infected. So—how did you avoid infection?”

  “I don’t know,” said Emma. “We’ve been on vacation.”

  Chang’s eyes widened. “When did you leave?”

  “We got back yesterday from a nine-day cruise to the Caribbean,” she said.

  “Interesting,” said Chang. “I’ve been out of town on business for ten days, and I’m not sick either. I work at NevoTech, as you know.”

  “I was just about to say that,” said Jack.

  “Ten days,” muttered Chang. “That’s nearly half the time I had expected.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This isn’t the first time a virus like this has been used on a city population,” said Chang. “I was under the impression things didn’t get this bad for three weeks in that case.”

  “This has happened before?” said Larsen.

  “Yes. In Russia. A city on the Kola Peninsula, south of Murmansk,” said Chang.

  “An entire city?” said David. “I think I would have heard of that. Sounds like a Chernobyl-level event.”

  “Apparently it was,” said Chang. “But all traces of it have been effectively erased, and travel to the area is forbidden. The Russian government completely denies it. I received a data pack tonight from a friend that knows the story, or what’s left of the story. I haven’t reviewed it yet, but I think it will shed some light on what is going to happen here and everywhere else the virus was released.”

  “Everywhere else?” said David.

  “Twenty-six cities by my estimation,” said Chang.

  “Good heavens,” said Emma. “What happened to the city in Russia?”

  “Nobody really knows,” said Chang. “Early bootleg footage indicated a brutal military crackdown, followed by a systematic extermination of the population.”

  “With that final thought in mind,” said Larsen, “can we take this show on the road? I’d like to get the fuck out of the quarantine zone. Does anyone disagree?”

  After everyone immediately indicated they were ready to get moving, Larsen handed the rifles to Emma and Jack.

  “I just need you to carry these for now,” said Larsen. “Emma, I have a helmet with night vision for you. David, the other set is for you.”

  Emma took the helmet, which felt wet. She dug through her pocket for a small flashlight and directed the thin beam into the helmet, expecting to find it coated with blood. It looked like water from what she could tell. The night-vision goggles dripped water, too.

  “Why are these wet?” said Emma.

  “You don’t want to know,” said Larsen.

  �
��I’m tired of people telling me that,” she said. “Why are these wet?”

  Larsen turned to her and put his hands on his hips. “Because I had to wash them out,” he said. “Someone’s brains got blown out wearing that helmet. You can pass it along to your husband.”

  “I’ll wear it,” said Jack.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “As long as he washed it out properly.”

  “I may have missed a few of the smaller pieces,” said Larsen.

  The thought of putting on the helmet disgusted her, but she wasn’t about to give Larsen the satisfaction of intimidating her. She placed the wet helmet over her head and snapped the soaked chinstrap in place, thinking the night couldn’t get any worse.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  David Olson lay at the edge of a cornfield, roughly two football fields away from the Indianapolis Executive Airport’s main tarmac, observing the airfield activity through binoculars. He didn’t like what he saw. Several helicopters sat on the massive concrete tarmac, rotors turning while ground crews moved between them, presumably engaged in refueling.

  Two of the helicopters were Kiowa scout helicopters, each equipped with mast-mounted sights (MMS)—a sophisticated sensor package located above the main rotors. MMS gave the crew sweeping three-hundred-and-sixty-degree thermal imaging. He was more concerned about the MMS system than the machine guns attached to the weapons pylons. One of those helicopters hovering several hundred feet in the air could scan a massive area for heat signatures. They’d have to be extremely cautious whenever they heard a helicopter nearby.

  Three Black Hawk helicopters descended out of the night sky to land on the wide taxiway just beyond the tarmac. They didn’t stay for long, each helicopter disgorging a squad of heavily equipped soldiers before rising and disappearing into the darkness. A small convoy of vehicles comprised of four Humvees and a canvas-covered five-ton truck raced across the open concrete taxiway to pick them up, ferrying them to points unknown in the immediate area.

  The longer they sat here, the worse their chances of slipping out of the quarantine zone. They’d already wasted too much time sneaking around the runway to get into a position to effectively observe the business end of the airfield. Time they could have spent hiking west, toward Finley Creek. Now he didn’t think there was any way they could reach Route 421 before dawn.