Just after one o’clock everything changed. That was when the sounds started.
Chapter Sixteen
An unvarying, rhythmic boom so loud that it vibrated the doors and shook the glass in the interior windows, the sound penetrated the entire shelter. Soldiers searched everywhere, looking for some switch that would turn it off but found nothing. It was only after finding the main circuit breaker and briefly shutting down all power that they understood the sound couldn’t be shut off in here. It was coming from outside the shelter.
David realized what it was before anyone else. “LRADs. They must have put them in place with helicopters. Those bastards! When were they going to tell us?” He was soon on the phone, speaking in a clipped, angry tone to someone.
Word spread quickly and soon an air of barely controlled panic was evident. The soldiers gathered gear and added it to an increasingly large pile close to the hatch door at the end of the hallway. The pulsing, bass noise hammered at all of them until the younger children held their hands over their ears and began to cry. Bea felt like following their example. Instead she searched until she found Ian.
“Does this mean what I think it does? I thought they were bombing Atlanta and Houston. They’re really going to bomb D.C.?” She had to speak directly into his ear to be heard.
“Looks like it. This may change things a little for us but the choppers are going out as scheduled. I talked to the good doctor and I’m allowed to visit again. David said he can get you on the last flight out, leaving later this evening. Are you still up for this?”
“Yes. How long do we have before the bombs hit?”
“Possibly days or possibly just hours. They are a little stingy with warnings or information. Several days would make more sense since it would draw in more of the infected.”
“You’re sure you can get Brian on the helicopter?”
“Like I said, this may change things a bit so we’ll roll with it. Ready?”
She nodded then put her hat and scarf on, tucking her hair up inside the hat. The accelerated evacuation with everyone running around made wearing a hat inside less noticeable. She carried the camouflage outfit inside her coat. Brian was ready to go and waiting in an office near the ladder that led to the ceiling hatch.
Bea felt the throbbing sound in her teeth. They gathered the children and made their way to the infirmary, stopping when they heard shouting just ahead. Bea peered around the corner.
Dr. Osawy was pale but calm. She was on the phone and shouting instructions to the orderlies at the same time. “There are three small, white boxes full of files in my office. Take those and shred the rest. We’re not leaving all our work behind. Get as much blood from the test subject as you can. We can at least continue to work with that. Once you’re done, kill her. There are too many problems with transporting a subject that could turn. We’ll find another somewhere. I wish we had time for a proper dissection but I’m going now to harvest the organs from the other.... Wait, yes I’m still here. Well, that’s too bad because I need it right now.”
Still on the phone she moved down the hall and her voice faded. Ian made a low, strangled sound that was almost a growl. Bea glanced back and shook her head. Both orderlies were large men and wore side arms. They would have to pick their moment carefully but the sound cannons made thinking, especially thinking strategically, almost impossible. Ian started forward but at that moment the doctor left, heading away from them. That left just the orderlies to deal with. Then one of them left and the one remaining opened the door with his card and pushed his rolling collection cart inside.
Running, Ian got one foot in the door before it closed and motioned them all inside, alarming the orderly who already had his needles and tubes out. He reached for his handgun then seemed to think better of it but positioned himself and his cart so he could see Ian as he worked.
Virginia looked up at them from the bed and tried to smile. The noise was clearly getting to her. She looked confused at seeing Bea but Ian didn’t bother to shout an introduction. That could all happen later, once they were out of here.
The orderly leaned over the bed and spoke close to her ear. She nodded and leaned back while he tied a rubber tourniquet around her arm. He drew several vials of blood but didn’t leave. Instead he moved his cart over to a corner of the room and began making notes on a chart and labeling the vials. He wasn’t going anywhere.
This changed everything. Bea couldn’t discuss it with Ian but he had to have realized that as well. Obviously she couldn’t hope to make the orderly think she was the patient. She would have to just wing it and hope that Ian would “roll” with whatever they had to do.
The children rushed to the bed. Ian untied his wife’s arms and if the orderly noticed, he didn’t say anything.
They had to do something and soon. If the doctor or the other orderly came back that would make this even harder. Looking around the room Bea spied a round, metal, rolling stool on casters. She tried to lift it and found it surprisingly heavy. She rolled it toward the bed as if she planned to sit on it and once she was just a few steps from the orderly she lifted it over her head and swung it hard. It hit the man in the head and he went down like a tree felled by an ax.
“Bea! What are you doing? Did you kill him? I was just going to tie him up.” Ian stared at the man on the floor.
She dusted off her hands then pulled the spare clothing from under her shirt. “I’m rolling with it like we discussed. He’s not dead. Give me some sheets and I’ll tie him up.”
Ian filled Virginia in on the plan while Bea (after surreptitiously checking for and finding a pulse) trussed the man and gagged him. Searching his pockets she took his pass key card. Then she went behind the rolling curtain to change clothes, donning the camouflage then giving her own clothes to Virginia. The white tee shirt was thin and slightly too tight but the camouflage pants and jacket were so thick and stiff they could almost stand up on their own. It was like wearing cardboard.
Ian spoke into her ear. “The chopper leaves in ten minutes. I’m just hoping we don’t encounter the doctor on the way.”
“I’ll go scout the hall. Give me two minutes.”
No one was in the corridor. She checked as far as the hatch then went back to the infirmary.
“Looks clear. I’ll go with you to the landing pad. I want to see Brian get on board.”
“That’s not a good idea. Someone might recognize you. You understand there’s no room for an extra person?”
“I understand. I’ll go as far as the hatch then. There’s no one here that needs to believe I’m Virginia.”
Virginia emerged from behind the curtain wearing Bea’s clothes and tucking her hair up inside the beret. Tucking a pistol into the waistband of the jeans she then pulled on a pair of tall, very scuffed riding boots. Bea thought she looked a little dangerous. She picked up her son and held him close while kissing the other two on the tops of their heads.
She shouted in Bea’s ear. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this for me. I’ll keep a close eye on your brother. You’re positive you can get on the next flight out?”
“David said it shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll take advantage of all the confusion and who knows? I may even pass for a soldier since I’m dressed like this.”
Ian pulled a small package out of his jacket, opened it and handed everyone a set of shooter’s earplugs.
“Once we’re outside the sound is going to be worse. LRADs can make you nauseated and disoriented so be sure to wear these. They won’t block out everything but they’re the best I can do. Bea, here’s an extra pair for Brian.”
Just then gunshots rang out. They heard a loud metallic bang then soldiers, rifles held at ready, ran past the room. A loud keening moan rose even over the sound cannons and Bea shivered in dread. How did they get in? Shouts and more gunshots sounded distantly.
“Time to go. Everyone ready?”
The hall was still deserted. A faint groaning drifted from the direct
ion of the locked corridor leading to the unused portions of the facility. A woman screamed and they walked silently past the deserted guard station and stopped when they heard running footsteps.
Dr. Osawy appeared through the now open door. She held her arm and as she drew closer they saw the arm was covered in bloody bite marks. A mouth-sized chunk of skin was missing from her forearm and blood poured down onto the floor.
Behind her came one of her vivisection subjects, naked and with blue mottled skin. Metal sutures held his abdomen open and his entrails were caught on the rolling bed’s side rail pulling it along with him. Bea stared in horror. It was Mac. As he strained and struggled forward more and more of his intestines unraveled and fell to the floor behind him.
The doctor looked up and saw them standing there. She tried to speak but nothing came out other than a hoarse whisper just before she slipped in her own blood and went down. Mac pulled until the last of his intestines unwound, stretching to the breaking point and falling to the floor with a wet splat. Freed, the dead man fell upon the doctor and bit into her neck and shoulder. Blood sprayed across the floor and wall as she screamed.
Horrified, Virginia moved forward to try to help but Ian held her back and shook his head. Pulling his gun he shot Dr. Osawy first then took out Mac. They moved on.
The gear stack near the hatch was almost gone. The soldiers must be evacuating in stages as transport became available. Bea found Brian in the office near the snack vending machines and made him promise to wear the ear plugs.
“You know how this goes. I’m coming on the next flight. Wait for me. I’m not sure how long it will be, probably not more than six or seven hours.” She kept her voice and expression calm and optimistic. He needed to know that everything would be okay. Inside though, she felt a little sick sending him away.
Brian looked uncertain then, taking the ear plugs, he nodded and climbed the wall ladder up to the hatch. Ian was already at the top waiting. Bea climbed high enough to feel the breeze from the helicopter blades and see the sky briefly. Ian shook his head and motioned for her to stay down. Reluctantly she backed down and someone closed the hatch.
He was gone. She leaned against the wall and slowly slid to the floor and closed her eyes, not wanting to think of what might go wrong. A nap would feel so nice right now, just a little one. Suddenly she felt completely drained.
Either the smell or the sound woke her, she didn’t know which but she must have dozed for a minute. She heard a slap then a squeak, slap then squeak, over and over, coming closer. The choking smell of decomposition accompanied the sounds and she felt her whole body tense in dread. In all the earlier confusion she had left her backpack in the infirmary. She was unarmed and alone. One mistake, she thought, just one and you’re dead.
Standing she found that her foot had fallen asleep and she stumbled and fell against the wall, hitting her head hard just as the source of the sound and odor crawled into view.
Almost skinless and black with decomposition, bones stained dark red, another of Dr. Osawy’s test subjects dragged itself along the floor. The face, almost featureless yet somehow familiar, turned yearningly in her direction. A single lock of blonde hair still clung to a patch of scalp on the skull. Hands slapped the floor as the thing pulled itself forward and a familiar-looking pair of Prada spike-heeled boots squeaked as it scrambled for purchase against the slick floor.
Bea stayed where she was, just staring, unable to react as Sylvie drew closer, mouth open wide in anticipation. Some of the skin on the body appeared to have bubbled and crisped, curling up at the edges like cooked bacon. Had the doctor been experimenting with a different type of heat therapy? Had Sylvie felt any of that?
This thing was not Sylvie and Bea knew that but grief overwhelmed her nonetheless. Her sleeping foot had progressed to the pins and needles stage and she moved away, still holding on to the wall for support. Without realizing it she had let the crawling creature back her into a corner. If her foot would just wake up she could jump over it and find her weapon.
Out of time and room she staggered forward and hopped over Sylvie only to land on her numb foot and fall. She banged her head against the wall again. Amazingly fast the black skeletal hand darted out and grabbed her ankle in a vise-like grip. Bea kicked but couldn’t get away on the polished floor. She reached out, grasped a doorframe and pulled away a few inches but Sylvie just slid along the floor with her. Kicking again she smashed the rib-cage only to release a lumpy, black fluid that spread in a widening, foul-smelling circle on the floor. Sylvie pulled closer, still holding Bea’s ankle painfully tight and bit down on her calf. Bea screamed.
Sylvie made a keening, chittering sound that died away just as her grip loosened. Bea looked up and saw David, holding her fleur-de-lis rail and grinding it into Sylvie’s broken skull. When he pulled it out a mass of black, dripping tissue hung on to the tapering, iron petals on the tip.
She sat up and backed away from the still spreading liquid on the floor. The side of her head hurt where she banged it against the wall and when she patted the area gingerly her hands came away red.
David wiped away the clotted tissue from the rail and put it down, then helped Bea to her feet.
“Thanks. That was almost…” She couldn’t finish her thought. Suddenly overwhelmed by fear and revulsion at the thought of what almost happened she began to sob. Embarrassed she turned away so he couldn’t see her face. Strong arms wrapped around her, holding her and pressing her against a warm, masculine chest. She relaxed and the sobs subsided but she stayed where she was, feeling somehow safe encircled in David’s arms.
“Bea, she bit you on the leg. Did she break the skin?”
“I don’t think so. I’m afraid to look. Will you do it?” Fear spiraled tight inside her stomach.
David gently pushed up the stiff camouflage cuff and inspected her leg. “No broken skin. You are going to have a bruise though. I think the canvas fabric saved you.”
Relief coursed through her and she sagged against the wall. David put one arm around her waist to support her and walked her down the hall to the shower room. Running the water at a sink until it flowed warm he found a towel to clean the blood from her head. The scalp was broken and bled copiously but it was a superficial wound.
He put her hands under the still running tap and gently rubbed the dried layer of blood away. Even after her hands were clean he continued to caress her fingers under the warm water. He then raised her hands and kissed her fingers individually, then lifted her hands, placing them against his face.
Bea felt hypnotized. His skin was rough with a slight five o’clock shadow. She turned his face toward her and barely brushed his lips with her own. An almost electrical spark coursed between them and she was overwhelmed by a desire to kiss him until she melted. She closed her eyes. The rational part of her brain was screaming at her to stop but she blocked it out just as he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her so urgently that it took her breath away. Right now nothing mattered as much as this amazing feeling, this-
The room shuddered violently. Tile cracked and mirrors shattered above the sinks. It felt as if the entire room had been picked up by a giant hand, shaken and then gently put back down. Plumbing in the walls groaned and pipes burst, spraying water across the floor.
They ran for the door, barely avoiding a drenching. Outside the bathroom the walls were cracked and the floors buckled and humped in the middle. Three soldiers lay dead in the corridor, crushed under fallen concrete. One of them was the blond man Ian had spoken to earlier and that had been part of the team that pulled them in the first night. The entire structure was tilted and they had to walk up a slight incline. A soldier ran past them shouting at someone to shut the gas lines down NOW. Lights flickered out and they stood still, blind in the sudden darkness. Within seconds the lights came back on but were dimmer.
“That was an earthquake. We’re running on one back-up generator now. I think we need to speed up the evacuation even more if possible.”
David strode away then stopped and looked at Bea who was still standing outside the bathroom. “Are you coming?” His tone was abrupt.
“Go ahead. I’ll catch up. I have to go by the infirmary. I left my backpack and guns there and I also did something to someone that I really shouldn’t… um, I can’t leave him there.” She pulled the purloined passkey from her pocket and turned to go. Shaken by what had just passed between them she avoided looking at him. She needed to think.
David sensed she wanted to avoid him and said more gently, “Bea, about what happened in there- I don’t know why I did that. I’m sorry if I-”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Okay. Were you referring to the soldier whose skull you cracked before you tied him up?”
“Um, yes.”
“I already untied him. I brought your backpack and left it by the snack machines. Where do you think I got your iron rod of zombie death?” He smiled.
“Oh, thanks. You do know that he was going to kill Ian’s wife once he finished drawing the blood samples?”
“He mentioned that he had been instructed to destroy an infected individual, yes. Look at it from his perspective. He had his orders and the infected are certainly a threat. You embarrassed him, too. I would probably avoid him if I were you. I got the impression he doesn’t like you much.”
“That’s completely understandable. I’ll try to stay away from him. You don’t think she was cured, do you?”
“I have no idea. I hope so but we have very little data on the disease, let alone this treatment the doctor tried on Virginia. If you pray, include her and her family in them. There’s little else anyone can do. I have to try to raise the pilot on the radio.” He walked ahead.
There weren’t a lot of people still in the shelter. Viscous, black streaks marked the floor where someone had dragged Sylvie’s body into an office and closed the door. Four soldiers, including the orderly she had hit, gathered near the ceiling hatch. Something about it looked different and they found it had shifted during the earthquake. It wouldn’t open.
The Living Dead Series (Book 2): World Without End Page 19
