Rise & Walk (Book 2): Pathogen

by Gregory Solis

  “Use the telescope if you want to look at it.”

  Veronica smiled and shook her head. She pulled a long rain coat from the back of the walk-in closet and brought it out into the room.

  “I’m not just going to look. I have to take notes, and photographs; for scientific study.” She said as she put the raincoat on. Margaret watched as Veronica collected the video camera, a bandanna, and a pair of sunglasses.

  “Mrs. McCormack, I’ve dealt with these things before. I’m completely aware of what I’m doing. There’s another issue as well,” The young girl said while placing the camera tripod near the door. “I shouldn’t just leave it down there. It may wander off and hurt someone else later.”

  “Are you going to…” Margaret didn’t want to say the words, “kill it?”

  Veronica stopped and nodded to her. Almost instinctively Margaret reached for the bed sheet. She lifted the sheet and sat back down, sliding around back into bed.

  “It’ll be okay. Please just stay up here. You’ll probably hear a gunshot in a while.” The girl gave her a weak smile and said. “I really do know what I am doing.”

  Margaret hoped to God that she did. The old woman breathed deep and tried to think of happier memories.

  *****

  Gabe saw two figures appear on the roof of a building in the distance. The woman was unfamiliar but the shape of the man, and the fact that he was wearing a military equipment harness, was unmistakable.

  “There, that’s Tony!” Shouted Gabe.

  “Who’s with him?” Billy wondered aloud.

  Gabe shook his head, “We gotta get their attention.”

  “Can ether of you guys whistle?” Jinxy asked. Neither of the men answered. Gabe looked at his watch. A bright circle of light danced over his forehead, reflected in the glass.

  “Do that again.” Jinxy said, “Check the time.” Gabe did so and now Billy saw the reflection.

  *****

  “Up here the signal should go further,” said Tony as he helped Nikki from the ladder. He turned on the unit and engaged the send button.

  “Homebase this is Shopping-spree, do you read me.”

  The radio was silent. Nikki was a ball of pent up nerves as they waited for a response; her eyes eagerly trained on the radio. Tony turned and pointed the antenna towards the estate on the hill and sent again.

  “Homebase this is your camping buddy, do you read me?” Tony looked to Nikki and chuckled. She frowned and his smile faded. The radio came to life.

  “Tony? Is that you?” Veronica’s voice asked. There was some static but the signal was clear enough to recognize her voice. Nikki made a little half spin in triumph. In doing so, a bright flash of light caught her eye. She turned and saw the reflection moving erratically across Tony’s back.

  “Could be, but we don’t use real names over open communications.” Tony admonished with humorous sarcasm. Nikki patted him on his back until he turned and saw the reflected light. He stared intently and saw three figures on the roof of a building in the distance. Tony leaned forward and squinted. Next, he smiled and then handed the radio to Nikki and disappeared back down the roof hatch.

  “Sorry. This is homebase, you’re a dork” Veronica answered.

  “It’s me. Dork had to run. But we’re okay, we’ll call you back,” said Nikki while trying to get a better look at the figures waving at her from across the rooftops. She cocked her head to the right wondering who it was.

  “No problem, I’ll be here.” Veronica said into the radio. She left it on and used the belt clip to attach it to her pocket. Standing on the main driveway in front of the mansion in her raincoat, a bandanna around her neck, a pair of clear safety goggles, and Playtex gloves, she looked like a bizarre plastic gunfighter. Using black electrical tape, she secured a steak knife to the end of broomstick. She leaned the broomstick on an aluminum tripod that supported the video camera. She un-slung the double-barrel shotgun and opened the breach. The brass ends of two shells emerged confirming that it was loaded. She snapped the weapon closed and slung it over her shoulder. Veronoca took a deep breath and looked down the long driveway.

  The lone creature, a shadow of its lost humanity, stood at the iron gate reaching a grisly claw in her direction. Veronica started the camera recording and checked the viewfinder. She wasn’t concerned about what the video looked like, just that her observations would be recorded. She stood in front of the camera and spoke while tying her hair back with a rubber band.

  “This is Veronica Emmons, recording on Tuesday, July fifteenth, twelve-thirty P.M. in Whisper California, as far as I can tell, three days after the first exposure. I am approaching the subject.”

  Veronica moved out of frame, picked up the camera and broomstick and began walking down the driveway.

  “The subject appeared at the gate about a half hour ago. I’ve seen anecdotal evidence that these things can smell the living. Since we have been very quiet here, its presence would seem to support that idea. Two days ago I saw a reanimated corpse that was blinded. I saw it sniff at the air and hunt by smell; with great accuracy, I might add.”

  Veronica stopped ten feet from the gate and set down the tripod. She checked the viewfinder again and made sure the camera had a good shot of the dead man’s torso. Its growls grew louder with her proximity. She pulled her bandanna up over her mouth and nose, and then adjusted her goggles. She spoke loudly to be heard over the growls of the dead man.

  “There’s a smell associated with the reanimates. I would compare it to Ammonia. I wonder if some internal cellular process is creating nitrogenous wastes. Perhaps it is related to what ever is causing this reanimation.” Veronica’s voice was muffled by the bandanna. She studied the ghoul for a moment and then the gate to reassure her self that it was secure.

  “I can smell traces of ammonia now but not as much as the ones we first encountered. I wonder if there’s a generational relationship involved. For example, a body reanimated by exposure to what the television reports say is a meteor, would be a first generation exposure. It bites another unfortunate person, making that one a second gen reanimate, then the second bites a third. Would it be possible that a third gen reanimate, while still dead but walking and just as hostile, could it have less of the ammonia producing compound in its body?” Veronica realized that she had been pacing in front of the camera and talking to it as if it were a person. She quickly left the camera’s view embarrassed.

  “Not that this is important, just thinking out loud.” She said wondering if the Vicodin she took was making her a little loopy. She looked in the viewfinder and zoomed in close on the hungry creature.

  It was dressed in a set of dark blue work coveralls. A patch on the left chest had a logo with the letters “WP&W” and the name “Malcolm.” The bottom of his left cheek was bitten and a small piece of flesh was torn away.

  “The dead seem to instinctually attack the soft tissue areas of their victims; spreading the infection. Animals attack the soft parts of their prey as well. Are these things falling back to some primitive instinct?” Veronica considered for a moment.

  “The reanimated only seem to be interested in living flesh. There was a car accident that I saw last night; the driver was killed on impact and wasn’t exposed to the infection. His body was out in the open for sometime, possibly since the confusion of the initial event, yet no reanimates took advantage of his situation. I suppose that dead flesh isn’t appealing to them.” Veronica shivered at a thought, “I wonder if an uninfected dead body would awaken if exposed to a bite or blood from an infected subject.”

  “Now that’s a hideous thought.” Veronica said to herself.

  *****

  Jack Mason smiled as he looked through his field glasses and recognized the figures on the roof.

  “It’s Gabe and Billy; I don’t see Travis with them though.” Mason offered Tony the binoculars and realized that Tony was already looking through a pair of his own; recently purloined from the showroom floor. Mason turned to of
fer the glasses to the blonde, but she was looking through a pair identical to Tony’s; not in the direction of their friends but in the direction of the high school. Mason shook his head and frowned.

  “We have to get them a radio too.” Mason said securing his field glasses in a pouch. He was relieved to see his team mates from Team Blackjack alive but worried that Travis wasn’t with them. Jack had invited the three of them up for the paintball competition. Not that he could have predicted the dead returning to life, but he did feel some measure of responsibility for bringing them out here.

  “We have extras; we can toss one up after we throw mine.” Nikki’s voice said from under her binoculars. Mason bristled at her reiteration that she should have some sort of priority. Turning to look at his friend, he saw Tony sweeping his binoculars over the high school area as well. Mason gave him a dirty look that Tony couldn’t see.

  “So how do you wanna do this?” Mason asked.

  “I was thinking Nikki could drive and I’ll hang out the passenger’s window and throw the duffle bag with the radio over the fence.” Tony said setting down his binoculars.

  “You’re gonna toss it? Over rows of those things, while hanging out the window?” Mason scoffed. “You throw like a girl.”

  Tony turned red. Jack knew he had embarrassed Tony in front of his little friend, but it was also true. Tony could throw a knife with a sixty-forty hit percentage, and he could shoot just fine, pistols better than long-guns, but anything sports related was out of the question. It had something to do with Tony’s old man never wanting to throw the ball around with him as a kid. Too bad if the truth hurt.

  “I’ll do it,” Mason said. “You’d better drive my truck and I’ll ride in the bed. It’ll give me a good platform to throw from.”

  Nikki looked to Tony.

  “He’s right. You’d be safe up here until we get back.” Tony said. Her eyes pinched narrow and Mason decided that he had better things to do.

  “I’m gonna do some shopping.”

  Nikki’s eyes were locked on Tony, but she waited until Jack had descended back into the building.

  “I’m going with you.” She said firmly.

  “Okay, I just thought you’d be safer staying here.” Tony said.

  “We’re safer together.” She emphasized then looked away, “You don’t always have to protect me.”

  “I know.” His voice cracked as Nikki walked to the hatch.

  *****

  The creature’s hands swiped at the empty air while its body was held back by heavy iron bars. Veronica hefted the broomstick and felt the area where she had attached the steak knife. The electrical tape was tight and the blade secure. She took a nervous look around her perimeter making sure that she was alone. She walked forward into the camera’s view.

  “The infected don’t seem to be affected by pain.” Veronica said loudly while extending her makeshift spear. The ghoul’s left hand caught the knife blade and grasped it roughly. Veronica braced herself with both hands on the broomstick. The serrated blade sliced into the palm of the ghoul’s hand as it tried to pull Veronica closer. She grimaced as the blade slipped free, dirty with a thick dark fluid. The creature continued its bloodthirsty growls with no indication of pain. Veronica noticed that as it clawed for her, its left index finger remained open, and no longer moved with the rest.

  “Must have severed a tendon there.” She lifted the knife blade to the camera lens, “The blood is very viscous, much thicker than it should be.” She looked at the blood on the stainless steel blade. In the sunlight, she could see a faint greenish tinge.

  “There’s a slight greenish color to the blood. Subjects we saw two days ago, closer to initial exposure, also had greenish blood, though more so. Their saliva was very green as well. I wonder if this also diminishes with further generations of infection.” She backed off a bit, wondering what she should do with her Knife-on-a-stick, medical implement since it was now contaminated. She drove the blade into the soft earth next to the driveway, leaving only part of the broom stick exposed. She would have to remember to soak the blade in bleach or something before disposing of it later.

  She focused the camera on the creature’s left hand. Very little blood trickled from the open slice in its palm.

  “They don’t bleed a great deal. I don’t believe they have a heart beat. Even when shot, the subjects exhibit very little bleeding, which may also indicate a lack of blood pressure.” She widened the shot in the camera and paced away from the tripod, considering any other observations while the growling wore on her nerves.

  “As you can tell from the racket, they’re able to move air in and out of their lungs; whether or not they need to is the question. Is this part of some sort of existence sustaining process; some sort of respiration, or just vestigial muscular movement to express their wants through growls?” Veronica paced back into the camera’s view. She spoke directly to the lens; the action helping to refocus her efforts.

  “Truth is, this is all just conjecture. I have no real answers, just possibilities that bring with them more questions. I’m hoping that understanding what is going on may lead to a way to undo whatever this is. My guess is that we’re looking at some sort of blood born pathogen; a virus or bacteria that is transmitted in their bites or through other contamination. If we can isolate the pathogen, perhaps we can create an antibody or a compound that can interrupt this reanimation. But for now, the only solution we have is to quickly end their existence.”

  Veronica lifted her shotgun and took aim. A moment passed, and then another. She was disturbed by what she was about to do. The ghoul needed to be killed; they all did. She found herself feeling guilty about videotaping the event. For a moment she questioned what real scientific value it may hold. Perhaps she was just feeling self conscious about being on camera. No, she decided it was worthwhile; who knows what thoughts a review of this information might give her. She had to keep focused on solutions. She lowered the shotgun and turned to the camera.

  “They do need to be put down, with a shot to the head. Whatever is going on reanimates their brain. Maybe that’s why they still breathe. Maybe it’s just the primitive side, the old brain, the medulla that handles all our autonomic systems? I don’t know. I do know that this was once a person. A man named Malcolm who worked for WP&W, whatever that is, and I know he wouldn’t want to be left walking around like this.” She paused for a moment and looked at the ghoul. It growled and gnashed its teeth. She turned back to the camera.

  “No one would want to be like this.” She said and walked out of frame.

  Veronica stood next to the camera. She took aim at the flailing ghoul and fired. A U-shaped groove tore into the top of its forehead with a greenish red spray. The body collapsed. Veronica entered the frame again and removed her glasses and bandanna.

  “This is a real epidemic. If we don’t deal with it; I could see this quickly getting away from us.”

  She wiped her face with the bandana and left the camera’s view.

  Twenty-Six

  Nikki stood at the sales counter loading .380 rounds into the two magazines for Tony’s gun. The men had spent almost a half-hour loading supplies into their vehicles. She thought it happened to be a good thing that they now had two vehicles as the men wouldn’t have wanted to leave anything useful behind. And it seemed that all sorts of things met their definition of useful. She noticed that Tony kept checking on her as they worked. A look here, a glace there, just to make sure she was close. With most of their loading done, Tony joined her. He placed one of the twenty-two rifles on the counter next to her and added three small boxes of bullets.

  “Here, its loaded, safety’s on. This is a good rifle. The bullets are tiny, so you can carry a lot, but they can do some weird things.” Tony said frowning, “They can ricochet sometimes. Even off bone if they hit right, so be prepared to shoot twice.” He picked up a large duffle bag that he had filled with various types of ammunition. Nikki noticed how he pretended that it wasn’t heavy.
He took the bag to the back.

  “When you need something bigger, use the .380. It’s got power, you’re used to it, and the size is perfect for you. I want you to have it; for keeps.” He smiled and exited the showroom. Nikki saw Jack crack a smile while examining some climbing equipment on the other side of the room. She pushed a loaded magazine into the pistol, closed the slide, and checked the safety. She aimed at the open window. Tony was right, the .380 was perfect. It had a lot of power but fit her hand perfectly. She found it strange that he would have such a small gun.

  “Why did he pick this gun?” She asked Jack.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it’s the right size for me, but it looks too small for him.”

  “Yeah,” Jack laughed, “it is.” Jack looked at her and after a moment’s reluctance, decided to share.

  “He’s always wanted the gun James Bond has in the movies, a Walther-PPK. But they’re bank, like a grand or more. So the sales-chick talked him into that one.” Jack picked up two nasty looking hand axes and made a whistling sound of approval.

  “I told him he should’ve waited and got the right one; but the sales-chick saw him coming. A little flirting and he never had a chance.”

  “Oh.” Nikki said. She wanted to ask a question but wasn’t sure if she should. She looked in the back to see if Tony was in the stockroom.

  “Tony said he doesn’t have parents?” She shook her head looking to Jack for an answer. He relaxed his neck and exhaled a slow breath.

  “No… he does.” Jack said slowly looking at Nikki with an uncertain expression. He shrugged and continued.