Silence the Living

by Brian Bandell

  The innkeeper must be infected and tracking my thoughts. She knows I have Moni’s blood.

  Aaron opened the glove compartment and seized the pistol he’d lifted from the FBI vehicle. He opened the window, leaned his shoulder outside and tried aiming at her head. Cars passed in front of her as the innkeeper weaved between oncoming traffic, her thin gray hair flapping in the wind. Aaron feared he would shoot the wrong driver.

  “Damn!” He stowed the gun in the cup holder and seized the wheel with both hands. “Time to rely on the law of physics.”

  Aaron steered the jeep over the curb and banked hard left through the intersection as the motorcycle closed in. Ramona screamed as the rough ride rocked her awake. The innkeeper drew her revolver and fired as she passed through the intersection, almost colliding with the jeep. The bullet had punctured the rear passenger door, a foot behind Ramona, her face frozen in shock.

  The jeep straightened out along a bridge over the interstate. The innkeeper’s motorcycle whirled around and doubled back to the intersection. Aaron slammed the brakes, shifted into reverse and pounded the gas. A whump from its rear bumper and strapped-on spare tire shook the jeep. Aaron made good use of its backup camera to find where the innkeeper landed, her head still twitching like a poisoned cockroach.

  Good thing it’s purple blood, not red, because I’d have a hard time explaining that one.

  He sped in reverse and backed the tire over her head. The sickening crunch of her skull sent a jolt up his spine. Aaron reminded himself that while the innkeeper’s body appeared human, it was no more of a person than the infected snakes he’d fed into a blender. He raced away before the acid ate into his tires.

  Ramona smacked him on the shoulder. “Por qué?”

  The last Ramona knew of the innkeeper, she had given her hot cocoa. He shrugged.

  “She’s not our friend anymore. No amiga. Let’s hope I have better luck with my boss.”

    

  Figuring the El Paso police would be after the jeep used in the hit-and-run that left an infected corpse, Aaron ditched the vehicle in a parking garage and took a taxi to the university. Ramona had stayed awake since the gunfire, but her eyelids hung heavily.

  Already 20 minutes late, Aaron found the research building full of students and scientists. They barely noticed him, even though his sand-caked shoes, sweat-soaked clothes and wind-blown hair looked less than professional. Plus, children weren’t normally allowed in a lab with infectious substances.

  They exchanged wails of fear and panicked chatter as the students and scientists viewed content on their phones and laptops. Aaron moved closer to a young man for a look at his phone, and saw a pack of winged coyotes stripping a body of its organs. Footage of the invasion of Columbus – the second invasion after Pancho Villa – had gone viral. By now, almost the entire metropolitan region of over 2 million people on both sides of the border knew the aliens had resurfaced in their corner of the world. Most of the students discussed fleeing, although a few staff scientists said they’d grind it out helping the sick as long as they could.

  “I washed my dishes with tap water this morning,” a student from India with worry written on the ridge of his forehead said. “Should I throw them out?”

  Before anyone could answer, Dr. Nunez stormed into the lab and confronted Aaron with a stare that erased any thoughts he had of sweet talking her.

  “You!” Raising her voice, she captured the attention of everyone in the room. A few guys winced until they realized her target was Aaron. Blinking heavily as she saw the child, Nunez balanced the venom on the tip of her tongue and dialed her volume down. “My office. Now.”

  Aaron followed her while taking the hand of Ramona, who curiously observed the work stations with their microscopes and beakers.

  “Are you babysitting, is that what this is?” Nunez asked as they approached her office.

  “Yeah, sorry I’m late. I’m the only one who could watch her and--”

  “This isn’t about you being late.” She ushered them into her office and locked the door. When she turned around, he was shocked to see her glowing smile. It wasn’t for him. “What’s your name little girl? Como te llames?”

  “Mi nombre es Ramona.” She sat on the chair in front of Nunez’s desk and curled her legs up against her chest.

  “Aquí tengo esto para ti.” The scientist handed the girl a cartoonish cow that doubled as a stress reliever squeeze toy, which occupied her attention.

  A grin spread halfway across Aaron’s face before Nunez’s sharp glare killed it.

  “You’re an idiot. You didn’t think I’d notice the next day when my ID card went missing? You don’t think we’ve got cameras in this office? This is a secure facility that works on infectious diseases for God’s sake.”

  Nunez glanced through her office window for a second. Aaron turned around and saw a campus police officer waiting. He had made a wrong move.

  Aaron dug through his wallet and placed the director’s ID card on her desk. “Good as new. No harm done, right?”

  Nunez retrieved her card and studied it. She crossed her arms and waited for an explanation.

  “I wanted to squeeze in a little after hours work,” said Aaron, barely making eye contact as he scratched the back of his neck. “I should have asked first. It was stupid.”

  “The only thing that’s stupid is you not coming clean,” Nunez said. “This situation is real. The aliens are on our doorstep. But you shouldn’t need convincing. You’ve already witnessed it in Florida, right?”

  “Exactly. And that’s why I wanted to put in extra hours. I wanted to find a cure before it spread here.”

  “Spread here it did.” She nodded. “You might almost say it followed you. Or did you follow it?”

  A chill struck Aaron’s bones. How much did she know? Was she only guessing, baiting him on? It didn’t matter. He would never win her trust unless he told her.

  “So, I suppose you ran a background check on me.”

  “It’s our business to know our people.”

  “Then it shouldn’t surprise you that I have this.” Putting on gloves he’d kept in his jacket, Aaron drew the infectious substance container from his jacket and carefully removed the vial of purple blood, holding it close so only Nunez could see it, not the officer outside.

  Her eyes widened in alarm. He didn’t think anything could rattle this veteran epidemiologist. Nunez recoiled from her desk and hopped to her feet as if he held a black widow, but worse.

  “Is that what it looks like?”

  Aaron nodded.

  “You’re insane! How could you bring that on campus, or anywhere near a major city? I knew I was taking a risk hiring you, but I had no idea you were so reckless.”

  He cringed. Ramona couldn’t understand the conversation and even she gave him a pitiful look.

  “I’m sorry. Once you hear me out, you’ll see this was the only way.”

  “Where did you even find that?”

  “The police officer from Florida that everyone’s looking for, I got it from her.”

  “You’re still in contact with Monique Williams, even now?” With her eyebrows arched, Nunez eyed him like a pariah. “I know you worked with her before she led the invasion in Florida, but didn’t realize…She’s responsible for that massacre last night!”

  “No. They haven’t taken her mind. She’s in control of her body.” Aaron couldn’t claim she had complete control. “When Moni voluntarily accepted the infection, the aliens gave her a pill that preserved her free will. Enzymes in her bloodstream prevent the alien nanotech from entering her brain and her neural pathways. That’s why I brought this sample here.”

  “To discover how to resist the infection.” Nunez inched closer, her breath racing so anxiously Aaron feared she would faint. “And you’re just carrying it around like a bottle of water, really?”

  She grabbed a sealed container from her cabinet. Nunez opened the lid and he deposited the blood inside. She set it
on her desk. Aaron thought she’d calmed down, yet another wave of anger crested.

  “You were planning to sneak into this lab behind my back with unsecured alien blood and contaminate my equipment?”

  Trying to reply, Aaron felt like a turkey with its gullet on the chopping block. “Well, uh…I didn’t exactly…I mean, it’s not like I would, you know, intentionally ruin your lab.”

  “You’re wasting your breath and you’re wasting my time.” Nunez shook her head dismissively. She turned to Ramona with concern in her eyes. “Te hizo daño?”

  “No, él me salvo,” she replied timidly.

  Aaron didn’t understand the entire conversation, but he picked out enough. Ramona described how Aaron had rescued her from the monsters in that scary town. The girl sounded so fragile, a wounded dove, that he could see Nunez’s heart melting in her chest. The lab director glanced out the window at the security guard and waved him off.

  I should keep this girl handy every time I screw up.

  Nunez took her seat and leaned in close, speaking to Aaron in a hushed tone. “You were in Columbus last night?”

  “My friend helped us escape,” Aaron said. “I came straight here. We don’t have long. Whatever source of water they found in the desert isn’t enough for them. They need room to expand.”

  “The Rio Grande. The reservoirs. The city wouldn’t be habitable without them.”

  “They’re coming for them and everyone in between. I saw them mobilizing in the desert. That’s why I’m here. You can help me stop this.”

  He gazed at the container of purple blood. Nunez did as well, except this time with her analytical eyes narrowing.

  “There are a handful of methods I could try,” Nunez said. “I could infect a mouse, measure its immune response and try to amplify that into a vaccine. Perhaps I can replicate the enzymes you say are present in Moni’s blood, the ones that counter the infection. Or maybe there’s some compound in our drug screening system that kills the alien bacteria or nanotech. Normally, this would take months.”

  “We might have hours. Reproduce the enzyme. Those are the only things I know that block the aliens. Where do we start?”

  “I’ll start. We have a rapid enzyme production system – a vat of special fungus that spreads very quickly. They can harbor almost any enzyme inside them as they multiply.” She shook her head at his glassy eyes. “You get some rest. You’re both exhausted.”

  After dumping all of his adrenalin surviving last night, his body had been meandering towards slumber since daybreak. He was lucky he hadn’t driven the car off the road. Ramona got a few hours of shut eye and was functioning in a fog.

  Nunez gave them the keys to the faculty apartment, an on-campus crash pad for visiting professors.

  “Once you enter, don’t leave until I say it’s okay,” she instructed him. “Security on campus has been amplified.”

  “I’ll call you when I’m ready to help. Just give me a few hours.” Aaron felt like he could sleep for a week if he didn’t set an alarm. He took Ramona by the hand. She followed him, keeping the squeeze toy. “Where can she stay after I join you in the lab?”

  “Good question.” Nunez showed them out of her office. “There’s a lot to think about today.”

    

  Nunez couldn’t help but sound condescending. After Aaron walked away, she returned behind her desk. Her foot tapped nervously. After a minute, she reached into her purse and retrieved a business card from a member of the FBI.

  Nunez had a lot to think about indeed.

  67

  Two dozen soldiers with automatic weapons and half as many CDC officials, the whole group in full biohazard suits, marched down a sand-swept residential street in Columbus. No doors opened. No blinds parted. Nothing greeting them besides the dead.

  Brigadier General Alonso Colon and his TERU force had swept into the northwestern part of town, where the attack started last night. Home after home, from solid Southwestern style abodes to rickety manufactured housing, bore the bruises of the assault on their occupants. Windows and doors were shattered, leaving trails of purple blood. Walls had been beaten in like cardboard.

  The remains were all the same, corpses stripped of their vital organs, heads decapitated, yet the gaping holes strikingly absent of blood. Man or woman, teenager or middle-aged, he identified the scattered body parts. Colon’s gaze lingered on the smallest one, a child just younger than his Ernesto. They had harvested them all.

  In Florida, the aliens had infused the vital organs and brains into their “worm” machine, which powered their toxic environment in the lagoon. The scientific reports said they had drained blood for iron content.

  That same wrenching knot that tortured Colon’s stomach in Florida struck again. The United States had entrusted him with stopping massacres like this. At least 80 were dead, nearly 5 percent of the town’s population, although probably half of the people who lived in this western corner of town where the attack had concentrated. Six infected townspeople had been shot and incinerated by TERU, and he couldn’t tell if there were others. Thirty-one of his soldiers had fallen since his mission began. It could have been worse.

  By the time his team had shown up, the mutants were on the retreat. The official line to the media was that the military had chased the aliens out of town. Bullshit. TERU had caught the tail end of them as they withdrew and blasted a few stragglers.

  They hadn’t encountered an infected animal since last night and, despite the aliens’ many opportunities, they hadn’t found another infected human. The drones’ infrared imagery had spotted scores of animals fleeing town and scattering in the wilderness – not long after Moni and Aaron had driven on out of here.

  Were they fleeing them or following them?

  An old van barreled down the street, kicking up sand as it headed towards them. The aim of six assault rifles brought it to a halt. Colon instructed his men to stand down.

  “My sister and niece live on this street!” the bearded driver shouted as he stuck his head out the window. “Let me through!”

  Colon stepped forward and outstretched his hands in consolation. “I’m sorry, sir. This street has been quarantined. Anyone who comes this way is risking infection.”

  “Their names are Talia and Teresa Perez. Are they with the survivors?” The man’s eyes were red and bleary.

  Colon didn’t know how to tell him that they hadn’t found many survivors. A smattering of residents had escaped, either by quickly jumping in their cars or barricading themselves behind storm shutters and other shelters.

  Protocol dictated he should blow the guy off. Tell him nothing. Colon knew how he’d feel if that had been his family on this devastated street.

  “You’ll find quarantine tents just north of the city along the highway. We transported most of the survivors there until they’re suitable for release,” Colon said. “They won’t let you in but you can wait outside. I’ll give them permission to confirm the presence of survivors with relatives.”

  The man thanked him and turned around. Colon radioed the CDC and told them to expect the man and query the survivors for his relatives. Given the state of the bodies, identifying the living would be much easier than the dead.

  What concerned Colon more was where the mutant army had hurried off to and what they were feeding with the harvested body parts.

  The satellite imagery of black smoke smothering the desert provided a strong hint. The urgent message on his tablet told him it emanated from Kilbourne Hole, an ancient volcanic maar just over 20 miles west of El Paso and Las Cruces. The federal reports said there was little chance of this lava-spitting monster, which had caused the ground to collapse into a depression, coming back to life. They hadn’t detected any of the seismic activity that would be expected if molten rock had breached the water table.

  Colon called up Secretary of Defense Arnold Stronge.

  “When you asked to lead a team of our nation’s finest, I thought you wanted to engage the en
emy. All you’re doing is chasing their tail as they slaughter civilians. You lost a lot of our best men and what do you have to show for it?”

  “Nothing. You’re right, sir.” Colon turned away from the child’s corpse and lowered his head. “I couldn’t be more proud of the way these soldiers fought, but I’ve got to put them in position to win. They need a target. Now we finally have one.”

  “So far you’ve been taking pot shots at that deserter cop and hit nothing.”

  “It’s too late to worry about one host spreading the infection. That ship has clearly sailed,” Colon said. “The aliens have begun a large-scale operation. They’re sending up smoke signals from Kilbourne Hole, an inactive volcanic maar in the Chihuahuan Desert. We don’t think it’s volcanic smoke, more likely water vapor mixed with chemicals. The only water you’ll find out there is underground. It’s likely they’ve penetrated deep into the water table.”

  “So that’s their new habitat. Hundreds of feet through hard rocks, too deep for bombs. Damn bastards.” Stronge slammed something that sounded like a heavy drawer. “Surround them when they surface and mow them down.”

  “That would be the ideal tactic,” Colon said as he approached a state ranger’s beat-up pickup truck in the middle of the road. Getting a queasy feeling as he eyed the broken windows with purple blood on them, he drew his pistol. “First, we’ve got to learn what’s in that smoke. We don’t know whether it’s toxic and, if it is, whether our air filtration systems are equipped for it.”

  Stronge grunted a reluctant approval. “No sense in sending men to their deaths.” He failed to add “again”, but by the tone of his voice, Colon knew he was thinking it.

  “I’ll send in a drone. Meanwhile, it would be helpful if the Army could guard El Paso and Las Cruces with reinforcements from Fort Bliss while my team gets into position. Our first priority must be preventing those cities from becoming like…” Colon peered into the truck’s cab and saw the corpse of a mutant coyote with its head blown off. The stench made him gag. “Hell on Earth.”