Chapter 4
Nashville, Tennessee
May 2020
Area 51 Field Office
The field office was a shamble, but deathly quiet as Caesar lay in wait in his office inside of the lab where he worked to create all sorts of medical miracles as well as biological advances. He had nothing left but this lab; his wife and daughter dead in the wake of the meteorite bombardment that was changing his world in unprecedented ways. He sat in his office chair, staring at the only photo within it of Camilla and Jenny, thrumming his fingers on the polished wood of his desk. There was nothing left for him, but he had to make something out of what did survive, no matter what it was even if there wasn’t much left, to turn the world into at least a semblance of what it used to be. Even if his wife and daughter wouldn’t be there to see it.
Caesar had originally gone into the office to tear it apart, but after ripping apart one filing cabinet he decided that it wouldn’t be doing him any good. If anything, keeping things intact for a possibility of a better future might be beneficial. Also, he was getting tired and chose to sit down at his desk and watch others walk back and forth past the glass of his office door. No one had paid him any mind, only turning their head to for the briefest of moments to see him sitting alone covered in the grime of the natural disaster he had plowed his way through to get to the office. The only person he hadn’t seen as of yet was another scientist named Douglas, who worked in his lab in the basement, and he was beginning to worry about his well-being. Had he been struck by a meteorite or devoured by the red mist that plagued the Earth’s surface when he had come into the building? He shook the dark thoughts away, picking up the framed photo and placing it face down on the desk. He couldn’t dwell. He had to move on. Granted, it had only been a couple of days, but sitting here doing nothing would get him nowhere.
Caesar began to wonder what it was that had pummeled their Earth, leaving it to look like someone had set off multiple atomic bombs as the crimson fog rolled in and took what it wanted, and each meteorite strike left another pockmark on its already marred surface.
He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, his beard having grown out after the last couple of days, leaving him scruffy and itchy; the oil that had developed on his skin slightly burned his eyes.
“What are we going to do?” he whispered to himself, barely even noticing someone in a lab coat being flanked by two men in Army Battle Dress Uniforms approaching his door.
The door flew open, the glass nearly hitting the wall next to it, and they entered. Caesar jumped to his feet recognizing Douglas, who had become his friend over the years working together on Floor X’s lab.
“Caesar, thank goodness you’re alive,” Douglas gasped, running toward him and taking one of Caesar’s hands in his shaking ones. “From what I heard, you were at the mall. How did you get here?”
“I ran. That’s all there was to do,” he replied.
Douglas had come to work with Area 51 not even five whole years ago, Caesar at first taking him under his wing as a lab assistant. Douglas’s career and experience began to grow, rivaling Caesar’s knowledge quickly. Douglas had multiple degrees in biology, chemistry, and physics that made him a shoe-in for the position. A few others in the lab had their doubts, but not Caesar. He had faith in the tiny man in horn-rimmed glasses with shaggy brown hair, who was always whistling some song by the Eagles when he worked. And he had been right to do so. Now Douglas was an integral part of the team on Floor X and was irreplaceable, having helped Caesar concoct something that no one had yet heard of or been told about. It was even a secret to Area 51’s top men. They hadn’t wanted to tell them about it until they knew it worked, using Caesar’s own blood as the core building block for it.
“But how? The fog?” Douglas asked of his friend and mentor, his brown eyes peeking from behind his glasses as the light reflected off them.
“It looks like it’s not as fast as it would seem, my friend. So . . .” Caesar eyed the men standing behind Douglas, “what is this? What happened? I thought the debris was supposed to bypass us all together after the meteor was blown apart by the missiles we launched.” A sheepish look crossed Douglas’s face, and Caesar couldn’t hold in his frustration. “What do you know that I don’t, Douglas?”
Douglas took in a deep breath and exhaled, looking at his friend like he had betrayed him even though he hadn’t done anything wrong. There was something Caesar was missing, and it had previously been dangerous information to have, but why would someone let Douglas in on it and not the person in charge of one of Area 51’s most infamous labs? No one knew it, but the lab on Floor X, Caesar’s lab, was responsible for some of the most progressive technological advances in the United States—if not the world. Why would they keep something from him knowing he could’ve possibly done something to stop it?
“They knew, Caesar. They knew that the missiles would only break the meteor apart into smaller pieces, but they would still be headed in our direction.” The words had come out in a rush to where Caesar could barely understand them, but he had learned enough to know what his friend had just told him that the people he worked for, the people he had slaved countless hours in a lab for all these years, had known this would happen, but did nothing about it. They were the reason his wife and daughter were dead.
He couldn’t look his friend in the eye. Just knowing that Douglas had been privy to this information and not told him angered and saddened him all at the same time. Their deaths could have been prevented if only someone had made him aware of what was happening and what would happen.
“My wife and daughter, Douglas,” he hissed through gritted teeth, attempting to hold back his anger toward his friend. Technically, he had done nothing wrong, but it didn’t change anything. Not anymore.
“I know. I’m sorry,” Douglas apologized, his voice barely above a whisper as his eyes roamed over the floor at his feet. He directed his horn-rimmed glasses back up to Caesar’s face and admitted, “They made me sign a non-disclosure agreement. I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t tell anyone.” He shrugged. “I hate that this happened to you, but all we can do now is move forward and try to get past this mess. If we can.”
Caesar sighed and rubbed one hand over his face in an attempt to calm himself, as his heart hammered against his chest and his body told him to punch something, but he resisted.
“Who are they?” he asked as he pointed at the two military men at Douglas’s side. Both men looked at each other awkwardly but kept their military stance, barely moving a muscle aside from the ones they needed to move their heads. “And why are they here?” Caesar questioned as he pointed at the men.
Douglas straightened and took in a sharp breath, adjusting his white lab coat as he cleared his throat. “They’re here to take us downstairs. We have a briefing on Floor X and then we have work to do to see if we can fix any of this.”
Caesar shook his head and sat back down in his leather desk chair, leaning his elbows on the desk. “Do we even know what ‘this’ is?” he asked as he looked up to his friend, skeptical of what he had just said about fixing anything. He was certain they had no idea what was happening outside of these walls and wouldn’t even know where to begin to try to find a resolution.
His question was greeted by silence, which caused him to shake his head once more. Those whom he worked for wanted answers to questions that no one had, and wanted a remedy that no one had prepared because no one was apprised of the situation besides those higher up on the corporate food chain. He couldn’t believe the arrogance of those upstairs in the large offices with the solid oak desks and chairs with incredible lumbar support that they couldn’t be bothered to get for anyone that worked for them.
“We don’t, but I’m sure we can figure it out,” Douglas reassured him as he straightened his glasses on his nose. “Whenever you’re ready.”
He took a step away from Caesar and began to head toward the office door and to the hallway, but one of the men in military garb light
ly grabbed his arm and the other moved closer to Caesar and, when Caesar looked up, he recognized the look in the soldier’s eyes. He had seen it plenty of times before. It was consternation mixed with obedience.
“Sir, we have been ordered to take you to Floor X as quickly as possible. We do not have time to wait,” he ordered, his voice stern even though there was worry in his eyes.
Caesar let his arm fall limp on the desk and sat there still staring up at the soldier. “I guess we go now, then.”
He rose to his feet and pushed back the desk chair until it hit the wall behind it, making his way quickly out the door and into the hallway as he pushed past Douglas. He knew where he was going and didn’t need to be led. It was his lab, after all. When Caesar has had come into the building, there had been no danger inside to speak of, and the steady flow of people moving in and out only confirmed that for him.
Douglas and the soldiers quickly followed, both heavy-footed men flanking him on either side as one moved to walk in front of him just slightly. Caesar couldn’t help but notice that the building had gone silent; that was concerning since they were on the fourth floor and it was typically abuzz with activity. Both men removed their guns from their holsters as they approached the elevator, pressing the down button although there was no light showing that they had even done so. There was no familiar whoosh of sound as the elevator moved up to greet them. There was absolutely nothing as they waited, each man watching the elevator doors as if they’d perform a magic trick. They were only met with silence as the doors remained shut.
They all looked at each other and made one realization. They would be taking the stairs.
***
All four men pushed into the stairwell, both men in military uniform with their guns out and pointed in all directions in an effort to perceive a threat. So far there wasn’t one, and they all took a collective, deep breath as the silence of the stairwell washed over them.
“All right, let’s head down,” one of the soldiers said, pointing to Caesar and Douglas. “After you.”
Both Caesar and Douglas looked at each other, concern and fear in their eyes seeing as the two soldiers were telling them to go first, like they knew the layout of the building better. It was true, but even those stationed in the field offices knew the layout well enough without having to have their eyes open to walk through it. This meant that they were sent from an outside source. The Pentagon? CIA? NSA? There was truly no telling as far as Caesar was concerned, so he started to make his way down the stairs. He had no weapons so if anything happened, he and Douglas were sitting ducks, but they did as instructed regardless.
Douglas hesitated, causing Caesar to pause on the first step down toward Floor X and his lab, where others were waiting for them to try to figure this entire thing out. If they could at all. Caesar turned to his friend, attempting to look him in the eye but Douglas refused, keeping his focus toward the stairs behind him. Caesar eyed the gun in one of the soldier’s hands but looked away quickly.
“Doug, buddy. Come on. I’ll go first and everything will be all right,” he said in a reassuring tone as he gripped the metal handrails on the stairs.
When Douglas nodded, he grinned slightly and turned back around, beginning to make his way down the stairs, quickly followed by Douglas and both army soldiers. Fear gripped all of them even though they knew there couldn’t possibly be anything in the stairwell. Well, Caesar was fairly certain. He hadn’t left his office since he arrived; only using the company shower sparingly to keep the stinging oils from his skin out of his eyes, but he had seen enough living people in the building to believe that there was nothing wrong. Each step caused his heart to pick up a few more paces until it was hammering behind his ribcage enough so he could hear it in his ears and feel it in his fingertips as they grazed the metal rails. He kept his attention on any noise he could detect. Silence. The only sound in the stairwell was their footsteps.
It wasn’t long before they reached the landing on the second floor, taking as much time as they could to make sure they made it safely without incident to Floor X, if there was one to be had. They took the next flight of stairs, but something nearly stopped Caesar in his tracks, causing Douglas to bump his back as he stood there, listening intently to the sound he thought he heard. Was that a groan? A cry? He couldn’t tell, but it caused him to pause. Douglas didn’t seem to share his feelings and worked around him, his arm brushing Caesar’s and his lab coat whipping around his legs as he moved. The sound echoed through the stairwell, louder this time, making him certain that something wasn’t right beside the sinking feeling in his gut. As soon as Douglas’s foot was on the landing, a pair of graying hands grabbed him and pulled him toward a gaping, rotting mouth.
“No!” Caesar yelled as he attempted to grab his friend, barely grazing the white lab coat Douglas was always wearing.
Caesar nearly fell, stumbling from the steps as the soldiers behind him tried to keep him standing, each one of their steps missing the stairs altogether, and they all fell in unison, walloping the linoleum hard enough for their breaths to leave their lungs from the impact. Caesar pushed one of the soldiers off him, turning onto his side as his mind reeled from the fall, a small patch of blood on the floor from where his head had contacted it, but he hadn’t felt it. Not before. Now the stinging pain at the back of his skull was nearly blinding as he spotted one of the military issue guns across the landing. It looked as if the soldier had lost grip on it and it had skittered across the slick floor. He heard moans, groans, and gasps that sounded long dead, but didn’t dare turn until he had a weapon to defend himself with. Panic took over as he felt something grab his leg, feeling like nails were digging into his pant legs and through to the skin, but he felt no blood.
His fingers closed around the gun and what he saw when he turned over onto his back was a terrifying sight. There were more of them than he had thought when Douglas had been nabbed, but that didn’t stop the shaking that started in his hands as he stared into a rotting face, its eyes covered in cataracts and half of its jaw missing. He was looking at what used to be a man but was now something else. Something that he didn’t have a name for. Something he was certain had never been seen until just recently, with the meteorite bombardment and the crimson mist that had taken over everything and pulled unsuspecting people into its bosom. It wasn’t only the decaying man who had gripped his leg that frightened him, but it was the bodies lying around him of Douglas and the soldiers who had been mangled nearly beyond recognition, bite marks evident in what remained of their flesh. Blood and urine soaked into their clothes and matted their hair; the carnage hadn’t taken any time at all and that shocked Caesar. From the looks of it, the walking corpses’ hunger for a human meal was so immense that they would gnaw into one person just enough to get a taste and move onto another.
He cried out and pulled the trigger, aiming at the head of the rotting corpse that held onto his leg, the shot going off loudly within the stairwell and echoing in his ears, causing them to ring. The creature squealed and keeled over to its side, its hands loosening their grasp on his pant leg and its entire body going slack. There were four more creatures to contend with and this particular handgun was a Beretta M9 which, to Caesar’s knowledge, held fourteen rounds in the magazine with one in the chamber.
He fired the weapon in rapid succession, shooting three creatures directly between the eyes and missing to hit the last in the chest. It didn’t fall, causing Caesar to panic as it barreled down on him, groaning and snapping its jaws like a wild animal. It reached out toward him; he took a deep breath, aimed the gun, and shot it, the bullet entering its throat and severing the spinal cord at the back, spraying blood and pieces of rotted flesh.
Caesar remained there in that position for all of a few heartbeats, his chest vibrating with the rapid and terrified beats that he could feel thrumming through his entire body. That was until something happened. Something he indeed hadn’t been expecting. What sounded like a metallic trill came from the b
ody, and it jerked as if something had grabbed its arm and pulled it, letting it fall back to the ground. The sound came again, louder this time as the body began to convulse, thrashing on the ground like it was having a seizure—and for all he knew, it was. He rose to his feet, remaining crouched there on the landing of the stairwell and watching in rapt fascination as the body continued to move at the same fevered pace, slowing to a mere shiver within seconds. Something burst from its skull, sending pieces of brain and bone in all directions as Caesar attempted to shield his face from the flying masses of tissue without dropping the gun.
The metallic sound was even louder now, followed by the noise of arachnid legs moving across the linoleum at a speed he had never heard before. He dropped his arm and aimed the weapon, in shock and confusion of at what he was seeing. Something that looked like a massive spider was before him, watching his every move, but he knew for certain this wasn’t a spider that belonged to the Earth. It had belonged to outer space and had rained down upon them with the falling pieces of flaming space rock, a parasite that had sprung from within the skull of an unsuspecting victim.
“What the . . .?” he whispered, staring at it as it seemed to consider him for a moment.
It was sleek and pale blue with what looked like an exoskeleton that shone in the fluorescent lights like pearls. A ridge of what looked like brain tissue ran down its spine as sharp teeth that reminded him of a spider’s fangs sprang from its eyeless face, or what he assumed was its face. It hissed at him, feral and hungry, lowering itself to the ground on its spindly legs to pounce on him. It sprung to action, launching its arachnid-like body at him. He stumbled backward and fired the gun, missing the creature as it avoided the racing bullet that punctured the wall behind where it had been. It was now to his right, and he shot at it again, this time hitting his target. He ran over to the downed monster and smashed down on it with his foot, turning it into a pulp of globular tissue and shining exoskeleton as he yelled and stomped it into the ground. Once he was certain it was dead, he backed away and leaned forward, placing one hand on his knees while attempting to catch his breath from the fearful exertion of his near death. He pushed out a deep breath and came to a standing position, looking to his dead friend and the soldiers who had been sent to take him to his lab. It was a trek he would now have to make alone.
Zombified (Book 1): The Head Hunter Page 4
