Chloe let out a high pitched squeal.
A large white rat, trailed by the snake like body of a gray and brown ferret scurried around the scientist’s feet. He quickly bent over to pick them up, clutching them affectionately to his chest. “Yes-Yes, I know you want to have a closer look at our visitors too.”
At least they knew who Chester and Fester were now.
Damon saw Harper fidget, with his back against the doorframe of the room, while Riley was already curiously inspecting everything, occasionally holding out a hand to touch an item of interest, each time stopped by a sharp tap in the ribs from Chloe.
“Please-Please, have a seat,” the man offered.
“I’m okay,” Damon responded, holding up his hand.
“I’m just fine over here by the door,” Harper said from behind Damon.
“Now-Now-You have nothing to fear here, please sit,” he encouraged as he rounded back to sit at his work station.
Damon reluctantly found a seat in a rigid metal folding chair; Chloe used an overturned five gallon bucket, while Harper and Riley remained standing.
“Uh, my name’s Damon Marshall, and these are my friends.” He motioned to the others. “This is Chloe, that’s Riley and the big guy back there is Harper.”
“Pleased to meet you all. My name is Dr. Rupert I. Dellinger,” he said with a smile. “Now, what can I help you with?” he asked while his fingers gingerly worked around an Erlenmeyer flask.
Damon didn’t know where to begin. Sounding as dumb as a box of rocks all he could mutter was a well formed ummmmm….
The scientist ignored him and continued without a response. “You know there is a contagious outbreak of the viral means transforming people into-” He rubbed his chin as if pondering what to say next. “Well zombies, I guess.” He looked up, his pale eyes behind the black goggles once more. “It is a wonder that you are still alive.”
“No shit,” Riley spouted off from the corner of the warehouse.
Damon cleared his throat. “We are well aware of that, Sir.” He couldn’t think of which question to ask first, wondering if it really mattered away. His skin prickled with the thunderous sound of boxes toppling over, followed by a quick apology from the clumsy marine.
The scientist didn’t bother to look up from his work, like he never heard the mess occur. He moved from the glassware to a microscope, then quickly to scribble in a yellow notebook.
“So what’s with the zombies with the wires sprouting from their heads?” Chloe asked, saving Damon some embarrassment.
“A few escaped experiments after a glitch in security,” the scientist responded without hesitation.
Harper panned the room. It was unlikely he missed any guards on the exterior or interior of the building. “Security? Do you mean the door? Because that’s all we came across.”
“What do you mean experiments?” Damon asked, moving the conversation forward. He was honestly intrigued. Since the start of his own safe zone he’d wanted to know more about the undead, by way of experiments, but never got the support from Harper and Riley.
“A scientific procedure undertaken to make a discovery, test a hypothesis, or demonstrate a known fact,” he answered without looking up, and without the slightest bit of sarcasm in his raspy voice.
“Yeah, I get that part, but you actually did experiments on them?”
“Of course,” he said matter-of-factly, “how else does one learn more about a subject?”
Damon rocked the metal folding chair back with a groan. He was staring at a mad scientist because someone would truly have to be mad to perform experiments on ravenous, undead, cannibalistic creatures. He studied the old man as he worked with crooked, yet nimble fingers. With sharply hunched shoulders pushed against his polyester lab coat, and his skinny neck, the old man looked like a vulture in black goggles.
“How did you not get torn apart? Or at the very least, infected?” Damon snapped back to his questions, feeling suddenly like he would be kicked out of the warehouse if he didn’t keep the man’s attention. The hulking sprinter that attacked them earlier could have snapped the scientist in half. The old man wouldn’t have had a chance. “No offense or anything, but we’ve had a few encounters with your so called experiments,” he glanced sideways at Harper who was standing with his big arms crossed in front of his chest, “and let’s just say it nearly killed one of us.”
Harper’s shoulder straightened. His pride was still hurt from being caught off guard by the creature. “It was never that close.”
“Did you? Didn’t bite you did it?” he asked quickly, momentarily eying Damon from under his goggles.
“No,” Damon answered, but went back to his original question. “How do you not get attacked?”
“Science, my dear boy. Once I understood them on a molecular level, a simple thing like not getting eaten is quite avoidable.”
Everyone shot to attention, including Riley who was rummaging through the back room and jogged up to join Damon, standing next to Harper.
“What? What do you mean?” Damon’s heart hit his throat and his mind went blank. He didn’t know what the man in front of him was going to say next, but he knew he had to hear it. He knew he had to have this man come with them, he needed to be protected.
“Not get eaten, huh?” Riley interrupted, “That coulda helped me, right Damon?” The marine held up his hand, or where his hand once was.
Damon shot an irritated look at the marine for the unwanted interruption, but the damage was done. In an instant the old scientist levitated out of the chair and promptly scurried over to Riley. With gloved hands he went for the marine’s arm, but Riley snatched it out of reach.
“Easy, Dr. Hands!” he yelped.
Harper squeezed the hilt of his pistol, but Damon quickly waved him off.
“Come-Come-boy. Nothing to worry about. I merely wanted to examine the wound.” His fingers dangled eagerly from his hands as he walked a circle around the lengthy marine, standing a good foot and a half closer to the ground than him. “How long ago did the bite occur? Did the infected take the appendage passed the carpal articulations or was it amputated post bite?”
Keeping his arm out of Dr. Creepo’s reach, “Nah, Damon chopped it off while it was still in the bastard’s mouth.”
“How intriguing...” he muttered to himself. Even after orbiting Riley, the scientist twiddled his finger impatiently wanting a closer look at him. Surely he was picking him apart telepathically.
“Sorry to interrupt, but what did you mean by understand them?” Damon asked trying to stir the conversation back to the hot topic and deviate his attention from Riley.
A moment went by while the scientist continued to analyze Riley, but begrudgingly went back to sit behind the table, his vulture shoulders in a higher arch than normal. He folded his fingers politely and gazed at the four of them much like the teacher in front of a classroom. “Yes well, we will get back to you.” He flicked his eyes over Riley, “So unusual...” he muttered.
“The infection is of new organic nature, and by that I mean the virus mutated from a disease that already exists.”
“And that is?”
“Rabies.”
“Rabies?”
“Yes, Rabies. Once the pathogen enters the blood stream it travels past the blood brain barrier and infects the brain entirely, killing the host. The frontal cortex and parietal lobes are destroyed completely, leaving the amygdala, cerebellum and hippocampus alone, however damaged. Thus causes the behavior you are accustomed to, unsteady gait, no intelligence, bad vision, and of course the desire to consume human flesh.”
Damon did his best to follow. “But if the host is dead, how are they up and walking around? I mean like how do they exist?”
“That answer has eluded me, but I hypothesize the virus has mutated in a way to provide energy to the cells without the need for oxygen, however not enough to power the entire brain. More experimentation needs to be done.”
“So what’s with
the wires?” Damon repeated Chloe’s question, having yet to get an answer.
“Research and experience of course, my boy,” he rasped cheerfully. “To determine which parts of the brain still have electrical current, and test if it is possible to manipulate those currents.”
Seeing the blank stares from his students the scientist continued.
“In one particular experiment I removed the skull cap and placed electrodes into specific points of the brain, then applied a regulated amount of voltage. In my studies, I have determined that if the amygdala is destroyed, the drive for hunger is diminished entirely.”
“But the brute-?”
“Results are not always one hundred percent.”
“You can say that again,” Riley piped, casting a glance at Harper who grumbled silently.
Damon sat forward in his chair, elbows resting heavily on his knees. “So why are they drawn here?”
“Are they?” The scientist wrinkled his brow and stopped to pet the course fur of his curious rat.
“Can’t you hear them pawing at the door? That’s how we found you-by following them.”
“How peculiar...” The old man didn’t bother to get up, but strained to hear the endless drumming of undead hands on the warehouse entrance. When his shriveled ears picked up the sound he let out a shrill laugh, flashing crooked yellow teeth in a gaping grin. “By golly it works!”
Goosebumps ran down Damon’s spine as the laugh echoed against the metal walls. “What works?”
He settled once more, arranging his lab coat at his waist. “I have been developing pheromones-a zombie attractant and repellent as it were.”
“You mean there’s like a perfume to keep them away?” Chloe came out of her bored coma.
“That’s one way to look at it, but by the evidence at our door, I dare say the attractant works more than the repellent. More experimentation is needed.”
He continued on with scientific lingo Damon didn’t understand though desperately wanted to, but he had another burning question, “Not to insult you or anything, but what about a cure?”
The old man frowned at the interrupted, but responded while gazing down at the beakers in front of him. “This is the most complex and highly evolved virus I have ever encountered. Unfortunately, a cure has evaded me thus far and more experimentation is needed.”
From what Damon gathered, this guy still had a lot of tests he wanted to run. Maybe he was being held back by his resources.
“You can only do so much with rotting corpses and rats,” he muttered.
Damon nodded and sat back in his chair, thinking about how valuable this guy was not only to their survival, but to the survival of humanity. He knew Harper and Riley were really going to hate what he was going to say next. Suddenly, there was a loud echoing clang of metal as a line of empty gas cans fell to the floor next to Riley.
“Jeezus Riley! Can’t you just stay still?”
Riley plastered a sheepish smile on his face and shrugged. “That’s too boring, and you know it.”
Harper’s footsteps came up behind Damon. “We’ve lingered here long enough.” He looked to the snoopy marine in the corner. “Riley check the door, we’re leaving.”
Damon looked up at him and nodded, but turned back to the scientist. “Hey have you ever thought about relocating?”
“Damon...” Harper warned, but he was ignored.
The scientist cocked his head, raising his wiry eyebrow contemplating the idea. “I am quite comfortable here actually. There are many specimen options available. I do like my privacy.”
“We’ll let ourselves out then.” Harper’s relief was short lived because Damon opened his mouth again.
“Well, I can see you are almost out of fuel. How do you plan on maintaining yourself when your generator stops? How about food?”
Chloe leaned in towards Damon. “What are you doing?” she squeaked. “This guy gives me the creeps.”
He waved the teen off and continued, “We are from a safe zone in Colorado—”
“Damon, a word!” Harper barked.
The mechanic shot up, pissed off that he kept getting interrupted. “Excuse me.” he said nicely to the scientist who waved him to proceed. He followed Harper to the door and was joined by Riley and Chloe.
“Damon, we have no idea who this guy is.” Harper’s eyebrows were pinched together, his voice supported his concern.
Riley bobbed his head, “You see the way he looks at me? Like Hannibal Lector for sure. I bet that I in his name stands for Igor.”
“Can’t you guys see how important this is? He could make a cure,” he whispered intently, trying to keep his voice down.
“He sounds like crack pot,” Harper argued.
“A crack pot that figured out tons of shit about these things.”
“Yeah like a way to bring them straight to us! Do you want that around the safe zone? Zombies pawing after their master?” Harper boomed. His voice echoed, sending the rat and ferret scurrying out of sight.
“Goddamit Harper! This is big. This could be the answer to everything.”
Harper’s face was red, Damon knew he was angry, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to let this go. He looked at Chloe and Riley for support, but found little.
Then Chloe pipped up, “Maybe we could give him a chance. I mean what if Damon’s right?”
“How ‘bout this Harper? If things get weird and he goes nuts, you get to shoot him?”
Harper remained quiet, looking over the scientist who silently went about his work. He measured the old man up, he was small, nothing compared to the big marine. He sighed heavily, his shoulders rippling as he flexed. “Dammit. Whatever, I guess he can come, but he’s gotta keep his weird ass experiments outside the safe zone. Now can we get the fuck outta here?”
“I second that motion,” Riley said.
Damon smiled. “Well alright then.”
He turned on his heel and strode to the table. “Look, we have plenty of food-something that looks like you’ve gone a long time without.”
“What kind of food?”
“Does it matter?”
“Got any nutty bars? Fester here loves those peanut buttery things.”
Weird. Damon remembered hitting up a delivery truck that was full of junk food, he was sure there had to be some in there.
“As a matter of fact. We do.”
“Well, Mr. Marshall, we shall accompany you to this safe zone.”
Harper groaned but said nothing.
“There is one condition,” Damon warned.
“Go on.”
“No experiments in the safe zone. We will set you up in one of the outlying buildings, just outside the safe zone. I’m sure you can find plenty of zombies there. We could spare a few solar panels so you can have lights and your computers.”
“Yes-yes. That sounds magnificent.”
Damon couldn’t help but show the smile on his face while he hollered for Riley to go back for the truck.
“There will be no need for that. I have my own.”
“Does it run?” the mechanic asked. He couldn’t imagine how long it had been since the man stepped outside, much less drove the truck around.
“Betty always fires right up,” he said with a smile as he packed a few things in a brown suitcase.
“Betty?” Riley laughed with Chloe.
The scientist ignored them. “Could I possibly get some help packing a few of my things?”
Harper groaned, looking at his watch. It was going to be dark soon.
“Riley, help a man out,” Damon said.
The tall marine moaned loudly, but followed Damon to help the old creep gather his things.
chapter 6
What the scientist meant by a “few things” was actually a lot of heavy equipment that took the group approximately an hour to load. Harper repeatedly reminded Damon about how long the process was taking and how it was going to be dark soon.
“Like I said. We don’t want to be out
here in the dark,” Harper reminded for the hundredth time.
“Yeah, yeah I know Harper.” Damon pushed the last box into the back of the scientist tiny s10.
The sun hovered in the west, peeking from behind thin clouds. A strong breeze whipped around the ground, flaring Chloe’s ponytail and rustling the naked branches. The scientist frantically attempted to smooth his flapping white coat.
The old man stepped over the dead bodies of the infected that had been pawing at the entrance of the warehouse with barely a glance. They stopped just before hopping into the small cab of his faded blue truck. “Night is the best for travel.”
“Not with zombies around.”
“Perfect for when the infected are around,” he corrected.
“I think you got those goggles tied too tight,” Harper said after scanning the area around them.
“Yeah you warped man?” Riley added.
Damon swiftly let out a punch and smiled when the tall marine yelped.
The old man put a skinny leg into the cab and then snaked his skinny frame in. “The infected suffering from night blindness,” he said simply and then shut his door.
The three looked at each other stunned.
Thankfully he rolled the window down to elaborate some. “Their vision is greatly diminished at night, much worse than yours or mine. You will also find these helpful.” He rummaged through the glove box and handed Damon two flashlights.
“Flashlights? Thanks, but we have plenty.” Damon went to hand them back to through the window, but the scientist stopped him.
“These are not just ordinary flashlights. See the red screen over the light source? You see with the damage to the infected’s occipital lobe they are not only night blinded, but color blind as well. They cannot see the red light.”
Damon shot a look to Harper as if saying what’d I tell ya? “Thanks! We appreciate the info.”
He tossed a flashlight at the big scowling marine who was maneuvering his way into the back of the truck with Riley. It was going to be an uncomfortable ride back to town since there were so many cardboard boxes. Finally, the both of them were able to wiggle down to the metal bed, backs against the cab.
The Beginning of the End Page 6
