Afflicted: Patient Zero (An Outbreak Zombie Infected Horror Suspense Series, Book 1)

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Afflicted: Patient Zero (An Outbreak Zombie Infected Horror Suspense Series, Book 1) Page 16

by Derek Shupert

“Do you hunger for living flesh?”

  “I don’t,” I rasp, coughing heavy once more. “I tried to eat a Snickers bar, but that has been the extent of my food endeavors as of late.”

  Dr. Lentz continues to look me over as I lean against this storage cabinet keeping me temporarily upright. The up and down cycle that has perpetuated my current condition is on the latter end. Getting better and back to my Becky is dissolving right in front of my blurring vision. I want to fight and break this cycle, but I’m not sure I can anymore. Although a small fraction of my mind still keeps Becky with me, the disease that has consumed me is winning. As much as it pains me, I need to let her go and accept my fate.

  I am sorry my love. I have failed you.

  The light headedness takes me over and I’m sent crashing to the ground hard. I see Dr. Lentz and Natasha reaching for me as my eyes roll into the back of my head, their voices fading away as if a distant dream. My heart, which was once full of vigor and a raging desire, has slowed to a deathly crawl. The cruel hand of death has wrapped itself around me as I plummet into the dark black abyss of nothing.

  22

  My eyes explode open. I’m standing in the rain in a cemetery in the dead of night. It’s black all around me and the only light I see is from the bright yellow flashes of lightning that crackle and streak across the starless sky. I’m lost and don’t know why I’m here. It’s not a familiar place and I’m not making the connection. I look through the massive rain drops that pelt my face. There’s someone across the way, up on a cliff.

  “HEY!” I yell, trying to dominate the storm raging through.

  The person pays me no mind. I figure they can’t hear me, but I might be wrong. I trudge through the soggy ground, my shoes sinking in and soaking my feet. I’m chilled to the bone and wrap my coat tighter around me. It does little good.

  The trees scattered around are bare, the thin, scrawny branches looking more like oversized bony arms and hands reaching out for me. I climb the small hill to the person and notice a grave. I hate to intrude, but I must.

  “Excuse me, I hate to bother you, but-”

  Lightning strikes once more and illuminates the tombstone for a brief second, showing who passed on to the other life. The fridge cold snatches my breath from my body and my mind forgets how to form words as I stand in disbelief at the name etched on the chiseled stone. It’s mine.

  The shock of it all has me planted in place, unable to move and scream out what my mind is thinking. I peer down at the person kneeling at my grave, wondering who it can be. I start to reach for their shoulder, and they stand up.

  It is Becky, crying her eyes out and wiping her nose with the red hankie she gave me when we first met. Her black mascara races down her pale cheeks. Her clothes are soaked through and clinging to her shaking frame. She’s weeping inconsolably.

  “Beck-” I say. She turns away from my resting place, and walks right past me, heading toward the cliff.

  “BECKY!” I yell her name as she pauses at the very edge. Finally, I’ve gotten through to her. Just turn around baby, I’m right here.

  Becky peers over her left shoulder and looks at me. Her face blank and emotionless, the river of tears dried up and the redness of her eyes soaking in. She simply whispers, “I love you, Mike.”

  Then, like a dagger to my heart, Becky leans forward and falls from my sight. I try to get to her before she’s gone, diving onto the wet grass and reaching for her. I look over the cliff, finding nothing more than the churning sea below. She’s gone.

  “I think he’s coming to,” a voice sounds out, rattling around inside my skull.

  I hear it, but pay it no mind. My torn heart is fading fast as I lay flat on the ground. I keep peering over the cliff, hoping to find my Becky in the water. Even if she is dead, I will gladly jump in just to hold her once more.

  My body convulses slightly, a sharp shooting pain coursing throughout. I clinch my teeth and my eyes slam shut. The pain grinds inside of me for a few seconds, and then subsides. I awake to find Natasha and Dr. Lentz looking down at me.

  “We thought you were gone and weren’t sure if or how you were coming back,” Natasha says.

  “Well, that makes two of us,” I groggily reply.

  Natasha glances at Dr. Lentz, who stares at me with that not so good news look. We’ve all seen it before and to be honest, I’m surprised it has taken this long. Besides, I doubt he’s going to tell me anything I haven’t already figured out or suspected.

  “So, what is it, doc?” I ask flatly, skipping the bullshit and jumping right into it. My frazzled state feels to be leveling off, but that is all that is getting back to normal.

  “There’s no antidote to the virus. It will continue to spread and meld with your system until it’s completely taken you over. I’d say you don’t have much longer.”

  Wow. I guess I got what I asked for. A straight answer without any fluff or build up. Point blank, right between the black eyes. I’m not surprised though. I keep sinking further into this hell hole and there doesn’t seem to be a way out. I’m not sure if I’ll make it to Becky or not. Either way, I hope she’s happy.

  “However, since there’s not a cure . . . yet, the only thing we can possibly do is inject a larger dose into you. It may kick start the catalyst enough to not only stabilize your condition, but might bond with your system on an unprecedented level. It’s a long shot, but the only one I see for you.”

  “You said possibly? What’s the downside to doing this?”

  “Well, it’s hard to say either way considering you’re the first person I’ve come across who has bonded with the virus as you have.”

  “Give me an educated guess,” I reply.

  “Bottom line, if it works, in theory you should stay the way you are now, but in much better shape. A complete body make over from head to toe. Mostly inside though. Your appearance will not get any better and may change, depending on the reaction. If it goes bad, the person you are right at this moment will be gone and the mutation will fully consume you, both inside and out.”

  So either way I’m screwed. Figures. Doesn’t really matter which road I take, they’re both going to suck. All depends on what I’m willing to live with—or die from. Decisions, decisions.

  “Well doc, since I’m not left with much in the way of reassuring options here, let’s fill ’er up. I’ve got nothing left to lose, right?”

  I glance at Natasha whose face is blank and stern, emotionless to my decision. She doesn’t really know me anyways and considering the fact that I was going to kill her if she looked at me funny, I’m not surprised by her expression.

  Natasha grabs my wrists and straps them down, then moves to my ankles, and restrains them as well. She jerks the thick, black restraints tight, my limbs left with no wiggle room of any kind. If it goes bad, at least they’ll be able to get out before I have a chance to break free.

  I turn my head to the right, away from the light looming over me, and watch the good doctor retrieve a vial from a refrigeration unit. The cool air crawls out from the bottom and spreads, fanning out in all directions. He places the chilled vial into a machine that has dozens of metal tubes lined up tight like a carnival ride. He slips the vial into one of the tubes and hits a button. The machine comes to life and starts spinning fast, going round and round.

  “If for any reason this goes south, kill me and do it quickly,” I say.

  “Don’t worry, I was planning on that all along,” Natasha replies with a smirk.

  The machine stops and Dr. Lentz removes the vial from its holder, placing it into an evil looking syringe that looks like it should be used on an elephant. He presses down on the top, sending the thick blue liquid squirting out. Guess it’s go time.

  “Normally, this would be administered through a tube and you’d be sedated, but given where we are and the lack of proper supplies needed, I’m going to have to inject it directly into your neck. The pain will be great at first, but should subside rather quickly.”
/>   “Can’t hurt any more than everything else that has been done to me.”

  Dr. Lentz places his cold, rough hand on my head and moves it to the side, exposing my neck. Natasha stands at a distance from the table, her Glock tucked nicely in her hand with her finger over the kill switch.

  The needle punctures my flesh and digs in, the liquid flooding my body. The pain is bearable and I don’t bat an eye as Dr. Lentz injects the full vial of the virus. I can feel it working through me, crawling and attacking everything within me.

  The good doctor removes the syringe from my neck and takes a few steps back, both Natasha and himself looking on with curious stares. I close my eyes and try to focus on Becky as best I can, but the virus is too overwhelming. I know something inside of me is changing, but I’m not sure which way it’s going.

  What the hell is that?

  I peer down at my hands. Visions of something swimming up from my palms and through my arms fill my eyes. They widen some, as the “novel” sensation repeats all over my body. I’m not panicked and keep my cool, unsure if what I’m seeing is real or just a hallucination.

  “Everything all right?” Natasha asks.

  “Yep, just thought I saw something . . . weird. Well, I guess not any weirder than everything else.”

  “One of the noted side effects can be hallucinations. So whatever you think you’re seeing may not be real.”

  Man I hope so.

  I lay my head back down and drift off. Dr. Lentz didn’t exactly say how long this process would take. It could be instant or it could take a while. I hate waiting, but I have no choice. It is what it is.

  Lying there I hear Natasha and the doctor chatting about something, but I can’t make it out. It sounds all muffled and distorted. Probably because I’m not concentrating on them fully. Then, as if on cue, everything becomes silent. No talking, no low humming of machines running in the background, and the odd sensation that was worming through my body has stopped, almost like time has been frozen and the only thing still plugging along is my brain. I could be dreaming again, but I don’t think I am. Doesn’t feel like a dream.

  I tilt my head up from the table, my eyes now full of clarity as everything seems to have a sharp, crisp focus about it. I’m still strapped to the table and don’t see Natasha or the doctor anywhere. The room looks to have been tossed; some of the cases filled with those weird creatures have been shattered and everything else is in disarray. But on a good note, I don’t feel like a mindless, flesh-craving lump of meat. I guess the process, or whatever that was, worked.

  How long has it been though? Hours? Days? Weeks?

  I pull at the leather straps on my wrists, exerting little energy as my left wrist breaks free. I grab my right wrist and tug, the strap giving just as easy. I remove the remaining two from my ankles and swing my legs over the side of the table. I push off and land on the floor, feeling rejuvenated and so much better. I take a moment to collect my thoughts and formulate a game plan. My brain is still a little scattered, but I feel much more focused now than I have been.

  My hand brushes against my upper leg and strikes something in my pocket. I dig in and pull out some kind of storage device. I walk towards one of the computers still intact and pop the top, inserting the device. An image of Dr. Lentz appears with Natasha behind him. It’s a video.

  “If you’re watching this, it means that the injection worked. I can’t say what will happen from here, as again, you’re the first person that has bonded with the virus in such a remarkable-”

  The screen goes black, but the audio is still plugging along. I can hear Natasha and the doctor chattering as some loud banging echoes throughout. The video comes back.

  “They’re nearly in Dr. Lentz. You need to hurry the hell up!” Natasha exclaims. Her back is to the doctor and I spot her pistol trained straight ahead.

  “I have uploaded what files I could access that goes into more detail about what is going on around here and my notes on possible vaccines. If you make it out, you’ll have a powerful weapon against the corporation. Good luck.”

  The video stops abruptly and the files the good doctor uploaded appear. There’s a lot, more than enough to sink this titanic into the dark black abyss. I remove the thumb drive and cram it back into my pocket. I sure as hell don’t want to lose the only leverage I’ve got.

  Time to get while the getting is good.

  I keep quiet and move towards the doors that are ajar on the opposite side of the room, taking care not to rush into anything. I spot multiple bullet holes that have Swiss cheesed the door. I glance back to the right where Natasha might have been standing. At least she got off some rounds before whatever went down here. I don’t see any blood on the floor either. Guess she missed. That sucks.

  I push on the door and slowly swing it open, peering out into the hall. TGP soldiers are scattered about down the hall mixed in with the dead. I spy some weapons strewn about, something that will come in handy on my exit from this hell hole.

  I step out into the hall. The door is off its hinge a little and squeaks as I push it open further. A hand grabs my shoulder tightly from behind and pulls me back. I throw my arm back hard without pause and slam my elbow right into its face. Bone crunches and cracks as it let’s go and falls to the ground. I twist around and peer down at it, blood pouring from its deformed and now broken nose. I kick it in the face hard one more time, its head slapping off the ground like a bouncing ball. I continue its well deserved beating, my boot planting in its face so many times that I lose count. I finally stop after its skull cracks like an egg and the gooey insides slip out. Oddly enough, it never occurred to me this could’ve been someone of the non-dead variety. Oh well, glad it wasn’t. One less meat-muncher I have to contend with.

  A loud shrill grabs my attention and pulls me about face. I look down the hall and find two dead eyeballing me. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a pistol about midway up the hall, the thick black handle poking up some from the dead bodies that lay around the solider.

  I take one step forward and the race is on, the dead sprinters gunning for my tasty flesh as they blaze down the hall. I run full out, dodging the bodies on the floor, jumping and sidestepping the rotting carcasses.

  Shrilling loudly and honing in on me, they leap from the ground and lunge at me, razor sharp talon fingers leading the way. I fall to my knees and slide, leaning back as far as I can as they narrowly miss ripping out my throat. They hit hard behind me, knocking dead bodies into the wall.

  I get back to my feet and toss one of the dead bodies out of my way, digging the pistol free from the dead soldier’s hip. I can hear the infecteds breathing, their nasty tongues slipping across their torn and decaying lips, savoring the meal that lies before them.

  They barrel toward me. I cock the pistol and turn around. Cool as ice and steady as a surgeon deep inside someone’s chest, I chamber off two rounds.

  Splat, splat. My lullaby.

  The slugs tear through their meaty membranes, sending a pink mist of blood in the bullet’s wake. It feels good to be back in top form.

  I do a bit more salvaging while all is silent, picking up extra rounds and pistols and other various weapons. I load myself down with what I can carry comfortably when I hear a loud static noise that perks my ears. It’s close but muffled some. I trace the sound to one of the many dead soldiers and remove it from his waist. A familiar voice breaks in over the static. A little choppy, but enough for it to get my blood boiling.

  “Unit three report. What’s your status? Has the subject been recovered?”

  The two-way goes silent for a moment, my mind thinking of all the wonderful and colorful things I would so like to say right now. I gently rub the transmit button, the multitude of thoughts flooding my brain on the verge of spilling over the air waves. I wrestle with the do I or don’t I decision. The two-way goes off again.

  “Find the subject now! We’ve managed to pick up some loose ends and I want him found. Kill whatever dead you encounter,
but bring him to me!”

  The two-way goes all static and something that Slade said keeps repeating over and over inside my head. “We’ve managed to pick up some loose ends.”

  What does that mean? What loose ends did he pick up? That is when it hits me, or so I think. At this point I’m assuming, which is never a good scenario no matter what the situation is. But in this instance, I think it’s safe to keep with my assumption. That they somehow captured Natasha.

  I hear a low groan nearby. It’s not like the dead, but more like someone who’s injured and writhing in pain. I clip the radio to my hip and track down the faint noise, tossing more dead bodies out of my way. I come across a soldier who has a chunk of his left leg chewed off. He’s in bad shape and I’m not sure when he’s going to turn. Better get to the questioning.

  I grab him by the scruff of his armored suit, easily lifting his body from the ground and bringing his pain-filled face in front of mine.

  “I’m going to do you a solid and put you down before you turn into one of those things. But, before I do, you’re going to answer a couple of questions.”

  He squints and tosses his head from side to side, moans escaping through his clinched teeth while his hands grasp at the missing piece of meat that was part of his leg. I can’t tell if he understood me or if he even heard me for that matter.

  I slap him in the face once, just to get his attention. My palm reddens and bruises his cheek, his head thrown to the side.

  “Hey, open your eyes and look at me so that I know you’re listening.”

  He complies and opens his eyes further. Terror instantly fills his face and panic washes over him like a waterfall. He mumbles some shit I can’t understand. I hear a shrill in the distance mixed with the clambering sound of something heading this way.

  “Where’s Slade?” I ask flatly. The soldier doesn’t reply, but keeps mumbling. I grab his rawhide of a leg, digging my fingers into the exposed meaty part. He screams out in pain.

  “WHERE’S SLADE?” I hold tight for a few seconds, seeing if he’s going to play ball or not. My fingers are locked in good, the squishy meat mingling between my digits.

 

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