CONTENTS
Chapter One - A Touch of Malignancy
Chapter Two - When the Sun Shines
Chapter Three - Missing Subjects
Chapter Four - Please Pack Carefully
Chapter Five - Harry Houdini had it Easy
Chapter Six - A Scarred Childhood
Chapter Seven - Bunkers Last Longer
Chapter Eight - A Fool’s Paradise
Chapter Nine - Look at your Own Discretion
Chapter Ten - All Guests should be Revered
Chapter Eleven - March Madness
Chapter Twelve - Babies fall from a Stork’s Basket
Chapter Thirteen - Everyone needs Fresh Air
Chapter Fourteen - All Nights must End
About Jake Rothmore
Other Books
CHAPTER ONE
A Touch of Malignancy
The doctors and staff shuffled in with their coffees in hand, some holding files and others smart phones.
“She’s at it again, mate!” James, said to Than, as they walked in.
“Give it a break, will you?” replied Than, half-smiling.
“I don’t get it, you know? We’ve got loads of other things to do. I have to watch last night’s game, yet here we are, about to swallow a whole load of crap just because fidgety Penny Dreadful had to go on her psychoanalytical rant. Imagine me going home after such a downer and finding I hadn’t properly saved the game, and had to watch it online. Now that, my friend! Is frustration!” James said, settling himself into a chair at the conference room table. James was an internee; a gift from Great Britain; more concerned about cracking open a cold one with the boys than the career ahead of him or his research papers.
“I think you should get yourself examined with all your little worries.” Than replied as he pulled up his own chair.
“Would you care to put my appointment down next to flying pigs? That would be only fitting.”
The conference room was almost full by now, and the MO came in last, all waiting for the star of the show. Seeing that the room was at full capacity, Penny walked towards the presentation board.
Although Penny was nearing thirty, she didn’t look it. Her blonde hair was tied up in a bun, she wore broad rimmed glasses and pearl earrings. She had an amiable face, a broad forehead, with skin just pale enough to get tanned by a night bulb. Her nose was small and cute, while her lips were always tinged with orange. The only thing authoritative about her were her lab coat and her demeanour.
The PowerPoint slide was plugged in, and the projector flashed the following topic into view:
“Midmar medical hospital and research institute, N. Y. Depression, the silent killer and the Serotonin drought.”
Penny cleared her throat.
“I’m glad all of you could take time out of your busy schedules for what I consider to be a very important topic. There is always an almost tangible need to know when it concerns our brains and our overall well being.”
James was almost caught snorting his coffee out at this.
“Quite the display, O revered Bozo! Now pipe down will you?” Than said into his ear.
“As I was saying, you may well know that the Neuropsychology wing of this hospital is the busiest. Although it may point to fiscal certainty, it also points to a very grave fact. We are not happy. We, as a species have indulged in the pleasures offered by nature and our own creativity, so much so that we have, in a manner of speaking, developed a resistance to happiness. This is now no longer just some juxtaposition, but a fact now that I have concluded my studies on serotonin deficiencies. As most of you might know, Serotonin is the Happy chemical. It is produced by the body at regular intervals to ensure that human beings are happy from time to time, so as to function properly through the drudgery of life.
“I have already mentioned that the neuropsychology department has been seeing an upward trend in the number of patients coming in for check-ups over recent months. In no less than four patients, an inability to produce tryptophan - a chemical needed in the natural synthesis of serotonin - has been found, which is rather worrying. The said patients are currently recovering in the neuropsychology wing. It might surprise some of you that the initial patients, after an average of two to three checkups, never returned, but were always replaced by new cases. That very pattern is disturbing. We tried to contact the initial patients, but all means to do so have met with no response, for the most part. Those who did respond were already either manic depressive or declined to a state of such utter delirium as to only enunciate gibberish. In both cases, respondents have been assisted by family members or friends to continue treatment with antidepressants, happy pills, Citalopram and the like. If you look at the next few slides, they show the exact data collected by the department of neuropsychology here at Midmar. These statistics, and the following slides may , to the unpractised eye, look like typical patient reports from any other neuropsychology department in the States. Were we, however to observe closely and with concern, patterns become evident and pieces of the puzzle fall into place. The majority of these patients are echo boomers, more commonly referred to as millenials, sipping on high sugar caffeinated drinks, only venturing out to grab themselves coffees at Starbucks, utterly displeased should they run into someone they know while there”, Penny paused to take a look at the general crowd. Among those present, some absent-mindedly sipped almost instinctively from their coffees.
“Spiced and flavoured lattes are all there is to life, especially if you are a collegiate girl. Anyway, the most common victims to this fall in to the void of existential malaise, or just a state of unhappiness, are millenials, and I will tell you about my reflections on the matter.
“Millennial lifestyle is somewhat a vegetative state. It’s like being in a coma. Most of the jobs in the market involve little or no physical activity, mostly relying on paper work, from accountants to law firms. When they get home, they are “tired” from all that sitting around, and fall on their couch to watch some good old TiVo or catch a pre-recorded game here and there. That is the closest they are likely to get to physical activity. As for their diet, we're looking at fat, carbohydrates and unhealthy processed meat, genetically mutilated, zapped and packed for greater pleasure, with little nutritional value, and God help anyone who chooses anything else. They are labeled organic-freaks and hipsters. Those who do get to the gym every once in a while, want instant muscles and quick fixes, and why should we not have that? Steroids and protein supplements rule the market, with their promise of unnatural bulk and guaranteed results. Couple that with new rapidly evolving diseases and weak immune systems, and we have the perfect recipe for disaster. Imagine, if only there were a catalyst. An overall block of the production of serotonin, or the development of tryptophan inhibitors. Thanks to all the processed food, and just a touch of malignancy, you have on your hands a killing machine, bereft of all sanity, all logic all sense, with a hunger for something. Anything tangible, anything that gives them a cheap rush, in any form; a stimulus that calls to our intrinsic beast that would feed on flesh and blood, and revert to cannibalism. The end is nigh?”
The last line was written in bold, Halloween script, and was covered by witch laughter. Laughter also broke out in the conference room as the presentation came to an end.
“Bollocks!” James exclaimed, standing at the threshold of the conference room waiting for Than to come over and join him. Than however, was still talking to Penny.
CHAPTER TWO
When the Sun Shines
“Well, I’d like to know more about this”, Than said to Pe
nny.
“I do have some grave concerns, but no one seems to appreciate either that or hard work these days. Tell you what. Come over to the department building just before closing time and I’ll tell you more about it. Sound good?” Penny said, gathering her slides and documents from the table.
“Just about right!” replied Than.
The neuropsychology department was located in the west wing of the hospital, in a new building connected to the original hospital building, which was also thanks to Penny, the little soldier. She had brought many changes and improvements to her department, which had in turn caused other wings to be as enthusiastic about progress as her. She was not popular, but she did get the job done despite her meek appearance. Than made his way along the corridor connecting the main hospital wing to the new building; and the whole thing looked refreshingly new, and this feeling was reinstated each time he walked this corridor. He was almost a regular at the building, being the lead anaesthesiologist; his help was required in prescribing new drugs and doses when it came to surgery, and dealing with the patients within the department, and their prescriptions.
“Opiates, Opiates, no help if you want dates.” He hummed to himself as he made his way to Penny’s designated office. This particular phrase had originated from a friend telling him that he used to take recreational drugs and was so phased-out most of the time that no girlfriend ever stayed with him for long. Than could be called handsome. He was 6 feet tall, and muscular. He had a thin face covered in a stubbled growth which he cleanly shaped into a jaw-line, and a head of thick black hair, and lips that seemed to be always curled into a naughty smile.
“Hey!” he said, as he knocked and entered Penny’s office.
“Hey, Than! Busy day, what can one say? Why don’t you take a seat?” Penny motioned to the only empty seat in the office; the rest were occupied with files and papers. Than sat down.
“So what brings you here?” said Penny, not looking up from the papers on her desk, scribbling notes here and there.
“I was just a tad worried, that’s all. The little antic at the end almost threw me off though, but it was in all seriousness, wasn’t it?” Than said.
“You know how it is, Than! We work our asses off at med-school, and all of it comes down to approval and who gets it. Most of those in the conference room today, wouldn’t have given two shits about what’s what, and who can blame them. The millenials have taken over, and everybody likes it. Still, that’s not what’s bugging you. If you thought that there was more to the story, there certainly is. You must be familiar with the term ‘contagion’. Of course you are. Well, there is one flowing through these very suburbs from Manhattan all the way down to Brooklyn, but it doesn’t stop there. And like the plague it all started from an unsuspecting little creature; pigeons. They aren’t called vermin with wings for no reason. Now their baths and their faeces have somehow polluted the water supply, but we are not interested in that. No sir, what we are interested in is what it contains.” She paused here, walking towards the window, looking out on the grounds of the Midmar Medical facility.
“I took the liberty of taking water samples from different parts of New York City. What I found was eye opening. The water supply has in it traces of a contagion so deadly that it might lead to the end of the human race, with the aid of our feathered friends, and that’s not the best part. Guess who is the most vulnerable to falling victim to such an onslaught? Yes, our very own millenials, and out of them, those at a greater risk yet are the four guys and gals we have safely cooped up in our hospital. Yet who knows? Apart from you, I guess no one would ever believe me. I’ve already sent some of the results to the Centre for Disease control and I don’t know how they are going to handle it, but this I do know, we are all doomed. The only missing link is knowing what are our little subjects are going to do when they are infected? The virus only affects brain functioning and behaviour, but what if the results are far more grave, Than? Even I think it to be unavoidable in the future. So if you would excuse me now, I have a fair bit of packing to do,” she said, casting a look at the mess in her office.
“You are actually leaving on just a hunch” Than was incredulous.
“That, Than! Exactly that is what I was afraid of, and why I didn’t come to you as a friend before. Why would you believe a colleague? Or even a friend, if you can call us that,” She said, looking directly into his eyes. Than seemed to be at a loss for words by this time, but still he stared right back into her eyes.
“Also,” she said, pausing to take a deep breath, “what you are calling a hunch, is supported by documentary evidence. And my misgivings will be confirmed when the e-mail from the centre comes through later tonight or tomorrow.”
“You could at least offer me one look at your patients.” He finally spoke up.
“I’m afraid they’re in quarantine”, she said, looking worried.
“Well, there should be some way around that. Yeah, security cameras!” he said, snapping his fingers.
“No, but close. We did have cameras installed to observe their progress; in this case, their regression. Come! I can take you there right now.” She said taking him by the hand, and then hesitating.
“The monitors for observation were put into the security room, which is in our own wing. A separate building did need a separate room for security,” her voice echoed through the corridor as she walked ahead of Than.
CHAPTER THREE
Missing Subjects
They walked down the corridor into the security room for the building, but the guards were out to lunch, leaving it unattended. The two doctors sat down facing the monitors. On the various screens, different angles within the quarantine room could be seen.
All four beds in the room were currently occupied, the patients all in a shabby enough condition. They were drooling messes. One of them was now sitting up, looking at his plate of food, and fidgeting with the mashed food using a plastic spoon. Another had walked up to the wall and was staring at it, he cocked his head left and right as if the wall revealed some visions beyond understanding. Two patients were sound asleep, and that’s when it happened. The one playing with the food smashed the plate on the ground. His eyes were blood red and his hospital gown was soaked with sweat, despite the air-conditioning. He turned his neck towards the ceiling and started to howl in the most pitiful way. Looking at him, one could not believe that he was the source of the sound; a loud wail, as if of a ravenous hyena, a sound that expressed madness riddled with agony. Penny, fascinated and afraid in equal measure, looked at Than. Than could not tear his eyes away from the monitor. Before long, the howling man got up, foaming at the face, and started to walk towards the patient who was staring at the wall. His movements were slow and his steps were unsynchronised. Each step involved the seemed dragging of his left foot, as if unable to move by his own free will. He reached the fellow patient, took his hand in both of his and looked at it with some interest. The man staring at the wall was unable, somehow, to register that his hand was being held. In the blink of an eye, the frenzied guy, with impressive speed, bit the hand he was holding. Blood gushed from the injured hand in sprays, and the attacker would not release his hold. Seeing blood, the victim gave a little try at a struggle, but before he could react to the assault, his eyes turned and he became somewhat beastly. The sweat was now visible on him too, appearing as grey patches all over his gown. In the same instance, the assailant lost interest in his victim and started towards the other two patients. One had finally woken with the screaming, but looked too disoriented to comprehend what was going on. The leader had now jumped onto the bed and was biting the sleepy guy’s thigh. The first one to have been turned then mimicked the leader, and went for the second patient’s leg.
“Holy mother! It is already out of hand.” Penny said, and with shaky legs reached for the wireless on the table. She tried to make it work but it seemed to be out of batteries. She fumbled for the telephone on the wall.
“God, what in the world...where
the hell are they?” She looked frustrated as she said it. Than had finally raised himself to standing position.
“I should go and alert the others. They’ll laugh at me, but I should. The thing is how to explain it to them. Hi everybody, the nuts in the psyche ward have turned into agile and ravenous flesh-eating animals? Sounds about right, doesn’t it?” Than said.
“We have run out ot time for any of that, look!” said Penny, pointing at the monitors. The quarantine room was empty.
“We have to run, they’ll figure something out, let’s just get out of here.” She said; her hair now falling across her shoulders.
“Go where?” At this rate, these freakazoids will definitely multiply and fast, they’re probably in the corridor right now” he said.
“It’s no good locking ourselves in here.” She said in a matter-of-fact manner.
Silence filled the security room and then, as if on impulse, Penny spoke up.
“God, why didn’t I think of it before? There’s the morgue. If the zombies have taken to the corridor connecting the two buildings, we can take a back way to the morgue. This building has its own exit in the morgue, you know, for taking the dead bodies out.” She said.
“Brilliant. Let’s get going then.” He said.
Carefully, Than opened the door to the security room and looked down into the corridor, where he was met with utter silence. At the far end of the corridor a tube light flickered, and in its flashes he saw that the door leading to the other building had been ripped off its very hinges. How could they manage that?
“Penny, there’s something you should see!” he motioned her towards the door. “I mean, how can they do that? Moments ago they were too phased out to even perform the most basic tasks, and now they are displaying feats of superhuman power.” He said as Penny looked at the ripped out door that could have easily stood resolute at about 400 pounds.
“Can’t you just admire the fact that luck was on our side? For all we know they could have come this way.” Penny said. She cautiously left the room and Than followed her with measured footsteps. They made their way to the morgue, the dreariest part of any hospital at any time of the day, but a ray of hope and the only means of possible salvation right now.
The Golden Horde and the Zombies (Zombie Conflict Series Book 1) Page 1
