by Cat Connor
Baptism by fire.
The containers were brought to the United States and stored in a secure facility in Florida. Secure right up until they fuc’n weren’t.
Two viruses. Alone you get a nasty flu. Together you become a blood hungry warm flesh-eating monster, all reason gone, and only basic animal responses left. We don’t even know if they feel pain. It’s supposed to be theoretical.
Some smartassed sicko in New Zealand at the Investigation and Diagnostic Center in Wallaceville, Upper Hutt developed the viruses then tried to sell them to a known terrorist group until his plan was foiled. Now we have the viruses and someone had potentially become infected.
How?
Pulling into Mitch’s driveway I called Obadiah back, don’t panic, hands free.
“How did someone become infected?”
“I don’t know yet, no reports of any break-ins at the Florida facility.”
“I’m sending Delta.”
“Level A.”
“I know.”
I hung up, parked and called Sam.
“Chicky?” He answered on the first ring.
“Don’t you sleep?”
“Not tonight, problem?”
“Yes. I need you and Lee to get your respirators and head to Florida. Use our jet.”
“What’s up?”
“Potentially world changing situation. Level A. Need to know only. I’ll authorize the jet. You’re going to a government storage facility to locate two viruses.” I paused. “You’re looking for Tminus4 and Tminus6.”
“Got it. Has this got something to do with the face eater?”
“Yes. When you locate the viruses call me. I will be at a facility in Charlottesville, Virginia.”
Sam paused. “A what where?”
“The National Guard Armory, only it’s not just that. It’s a secure underground facility, I’ll be there. Peregory Lane.”
I was quite pleased that I didn’t call it what I usually did.
“Purgatory Lane?” Sam asked.
I smiled. “Yeah, that’s what I usually call it.”
I always figured if I ever needed to go there for anything it would be purgatory and we would be in dire need of purification. I wasn’t wrong.
“I’ll get Lee you get Kurt. Let’s do it.”
We hung up. I made the call to Andrews. “This is SSA Ellie Conway authorization code…” I pressed seven numbers into my phone then the hash key.
Seconds later a human voice spoke, “What do you need Agent Conway?”
“The Delta jet for a flight from Andrews to Florida then Florida to Charlottesville. Two passengers no crew apart from the pilots. Strict quarantine procedures to be implemented on the Florida to Charlottesville leg.”
“Yes ma’am.”
I hung up.
My headlights illuminated Mitch as he locked the front door of his home. He hurried toward me with a backpack slung over his shoulder. I reached over and unlocked the passenger door. He tossed the pack into the back and climbed in.
“This isn’t good is it?” he asked.
“No, this isn’t good.” I pulled out of his driveway and headed north again. “We’re picking up Kurt.”
Nothing was said until I made the next call from outside Kurt’s home. I wasn’t going without him. No way was I going to face this without my entire team and Mitch. Stopping for Mitch and Kurt would only add fifteen minutes to the journey. Two hours and fifteen to make it to purgatory.
“Wait here, I’ll be right back,” I said to Mitch.
I knocked on Kurt’s door and waited as sounds of wakefulness crept along the hallway lit by the soft glow of lights flickering on.
The door flew open.
I smiled.
“Hey, up for a road trip?”
“Conway, it’s nearly four in the morning, what the hell?”
“We have a situation…”
Kurt was standing in the doorway, shirtless, barefoot, wearing jeans but half asleep. I knew Lee and Sam would already be on their way to Andrews.
“A situation?”
“Yes. Mitch is in the car. Hurry up.”
“Come in,” Kurt said. “I’ll be five minutes.”
I wandered into the living room and tossed myself onto the leather couch to wait. Four minutes and fifteen seconds later Kurt emerged fully clothed and carrying two bags.
“Let’s go.”
I filled Kurt and Mitch in on the way. We stopped for coffee once. Fifteen hours and counting.
Kurt opted to drive the rest of the way after our coffee break. Mitch rode shotgun. His silence was unusual but considering the circumstances not surprising.
“Did you get any sleep at all?” Kurt asked adjusting the rearview mirror so he could see me in the back.
I could’ve lied but what would be the point?
“No, was still winding down when I saw the story.”
“Get some rest. We’ll wake you before we get there.”
“When my phone alarm goes - we need to put on the respirators,” I replied with yawn.
“Okay, sleep.”
My eyes did not need to be told twice.
The alarm woke me before Kurt could. He’d pulled off the road ahead of schedule and was getting the masks from their cases in the back of the truck.
I looked at my watch. Sixteen hours and counting.
Kurt opened my door.
“Wearing these into town, even inside the truck, is going to cause a stir,” I said. I took the mask he handed me and set about getting into it. “It’s also going to be ridiculously annoying.”
“Better than being ridiculously dead,” Kurt replied.
Good point.
We checked the fit of each other’s masks and climbed back into the truck.
Within minutes, I started to feel overheated.
I consoled myself with the thought that it could be worse. I could be wearing a level A Hazmat suit or even a full-face mask. The half-face mask seemed a little less cumbersome and claustrophobic after that.
We could still talk and understand each other. In one way we would’ve been better off wearing the full suits, they had an inbuilt fluid dispenser. The masks did not. Drinking would only be an issue if we had to wear these masks for extended periods.
“Remember to drink,” Kurt said. I heard the amusement in his voice.
“Yeah, remember to drive,” I replied.
Mitch laughed breaking any tension we’d felt wide open.
My phone rang. Mitch handed it to me. Good thing I’m used to having my phone in front of me and not at my ear.
“How far out are you?”
Obadiah.
“Almost there.”
“Just got a report from New Jersey. A man disemboweled himself and threw his guts at police.”
Holy crap. You couldn’t make this shit up.
“Dear God.”
“I have people at that scene now.”
“The police could be infected.”
“We’re tracking those cops and cleaning up after them.”
Cleaning up after them sounded ominous because it was.
Anyone they came in contact with would be cleaned up as would anything. The fires would be burning in New Jersey today.
“Why no reports of this kind in Georgia, North and South Carolina, Virginia or Maryland?”
I knew the answer. Someone flew infected.
“The man flew to New Jersey from Florida last night,” Obadiah said.
“Newark?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“We’re fucked.”
“Probably.”
Probably? Yeah, nah, we’re screwed.
“We’re here, bring us down,” I said.
Kurt drove onto the site. In front of us a large steel door slid sideways. As we drove down a ramp, the steel door closed. The area below us was well lit. Kurt followed the roadway down two more ramps. Obadiah was waiting, wearing a respirator mask like ours and directed us to a car park.
/> I noted the absence of a Hazmat suit on Obadiah. I don’t know why I expected him to be wearing one when we didn’t have too, but I did. In the movies everyone is always wearing Hazmat suits at these kinds of facilities.
The voice in my head reminded me that this was not a movie. There was no happy ending looming. The guy would not get the girl and no one was going to ride off into the sunset. I grabbed Mitch’s hand. That wasn’t entirely true. We could be a happy ending or at least together at the end.
Customary greeting followed. I introduced Mitch. We followed Obadiah to the elevator. We were going deep underground.
The elevator opened into a small room, beyond the glass doors was another small room and another set of glass doors.
Airlocks.
We stepped into the first room and waited while the elevator doors closed. The glass doors in front of us opened letting us through. Again, we waited while doors closed. There was a hiss and a rush of air. Moments later the next doors opened and we were free.
Obadiah took his mask off. “You can breathe safely down here. Air does not come directly from outside. It’s filtered and purified before we get it.”
It was a relief to take the mask off. Obadiah pointed to a set of empty cubby holes in an alcove. He dropped his mask into one with his name on it. I placed my mask in one and used the black sharpie I saw on the top of the shelves to name my cubby. Kurt and Mitch followed suit.
“Where is the victim?” I asked.
“Quarantined on the next level down.”
“Will he make it?”
“No.”
“Any chance of an antidote or at least a vaccination?” Kurt asked.
“We’ve been working on that for over a year now.”
So they’ve been working with the viruses. Why not just destroy them so this this can never happen? Because they’re a weapon. Humanity deserved to be annihilated; we created these viruses to use against others.
Live by the sword die by the sword.
“How far has it spread?” I asked.
“Reports are now coming in from all states on the eastern seaboard.”
We’re out of time.
Obadiah indicated that we should follow him. He took us to a comfortable lounge room complete with large leather couches and the smell of fresh coffee.
“These are our living quarters. This is the communal living area, the kitchen is through that door,” he said, pointing to a large door on the right of the room. “Over there.” He pointed to the left. “Is a hallway that leads to twelve bedrooms all containing their own bathrooms.”
“Water?” Kurt asked.
“Underground wells and again purified before we get it by our own filtration plant. The whole complex is fully self-contained. We even have gardens on a lower level to provide our fresh vegetable and some fruits.”
“How long can people survive down here?”
“The plan was always to stay underground for seven years.”
“That’s the plan, what’s the reality?”
“Ten. Twenty-four people can live down here for ten years.”
“How about maintenance?”
“We have two maintenance engineers on site at all times.”
I sat down on one of the couches and considered the predicament we were now in as humans. We were facing the end of life as we knew it. I had no idea how to feel about that. My life to date had been pretty clear cut. People do stupid shit, I arrested them, we made our case, lawyers got involved and often screwed things up but more often we won and the bad guys went to jail. End of story. I couldn’t arrest a virus. I could arrest the shit for brain tard that released it, but that wasn’t going to help. My traditional skill set of investigation and resolution was not applicable here.
Yet here I was. Why?
Because Obadiah and I worked for the same person once upon a time and Tierney wanted me and Delta here in the event of a catastrophic world event.
And I was lucky enough to be allowed a plus one. Life without Mitch would be unbearable. Tierney would be in his own bunker with other so-called valuable people, specialists in survival, intelligence gathering, and various support people. I wondered if Iain Campbell made the cut. I hoped so.
The kitchen door opened. Sandra came out carrying a tray of coffees.
I jumped to my feet. Kurt took the tray. I hugged Sandra hard.
“Thank God,” she said returning my hug. “I didn’t know if you would make it in time.”
“How did you?”
“Tierney sent someone to get me.”
A shadow fell over the kitchen doorway. From the shadow came a familiar voice which in turn became a familiar man.
“Iain!”
“The gangs all here,” he said with a grin looking around the room. A frown furrowed his brow. “Not quite, where are Sam and Lee?”
“Retrieving the viruses unless of course someone else took them first,” I replied. They should be at the facility by now. I checked my watch. “Hopefully they’re on their way up here soon.” They hadn’t checked in.
A cold feeling of dread stirred amongst the icy feelings of doom. It was hard to distinguish cold from ice but it was there none the less.
I looked at the display on my phone.
No missed calls.
No new messages.
I made a call.
Their phones went unanswered.
Iain used his phone and called Tierney.
Moments later he had our pilot on the line. Sam and Lee never returned to the plane. The pilot was locked in the cockpit. He reported chaos on the runway and from what he could see in the airport buildings. Carnage and chaos.
I sat on the nearest couch.
It had happened.
We were done.
Life underground was the new normal.
The End.
Part two:
Non-byte shorts.
1. Mo Mhuirnin
August 6th 1714.
My name is Meaghan Fitzgerald. It is the year of our lord seventeen fourteen, August 6. I chose today to start my journal. It is a week before my eighteenth birthday. Mamai and Da gave me this diary for Christmas last year, until now I didn’t know what I should write. Today was an exceptional day. Today I learned of love and met beauty of spirit.
“Meaghan, take Ciara and Ana and gather mushrooms for supper.”
“Yes, Maddie,” I replied.
“Be mindful. Keep away from soldiers, and watch your sisters.”
“Yes, Maddie.”
‘Watch your sisters’ meant watch Ana. Duly charged with my sisters’ welfare I bade them fetch their cloaks and baskets. Sunny it was, but clouds hung low overhead, threatening rain, and lending a chill to the air.
“Be home before dusk.”
“Yes, Maddie.”
“The best mushrooms are to be found on the old Abbey grounds.”
I looked at her as I fastened my own cloak. “I know where to pick mushrooms,” I said, perhaps too tersely.
“Mind your manners young miss,” she warned.
Loving her as if she were my own mother and resenting her in equal measure, a difficult balance at the best of times. I ushered the chattering girls from the house, pondering why Maddie mentioned the ruined Abbey at all. We always picked mushrooms in the grounds. We gathered walnuts there, as well.
The very sight of the walnut trees with their gnarled branches and knotted trunks sent shivers up and down my spine. Shivers as hasty and skittering as the chattering squirrels that haunted those old trunks and branches.
“You’re quiet Meaghan,” Ana said, skipping ahead of us.
“You’re noisy,” I retorted. “Don’t go too far.”
“I’ll not!” she called over her shoulder, as she skipped faster and further ahead.
“What’s wrong?” Ciara asked.
I called to Ana: “Not too far!”
Ciara touched my arm. “Meaghan?”
“The best mushrooms are nearest the walnut trees,” I sa
id, in response to nothing and almost as an afterthought.
Ciara laughed. “Ana thinks those trees can talk.”
“Mayhap they can,” I replied as I watched Ana disappear over a small rise.
We hoisted our skirts and ran to catch her. We raced each other to the rise then came to an abrupt halt.
I grabbed Ciara’s arm.
Soldiers.
Ana was speaking with one, who had dismounted. The other remained on his horse. They’d not yet seen us. I had to get Ana back. Doing so alerted the soldiers to our presence.
“Ana!” I called.
She looked over her shoulder, spoke again to the soldier, and then ran toward us. I grabbed her hand. “You shouldn’t talk to them,” I told her quietly.
“They’re right nice, they are. They asked me where I was going.”
“Shush,” I said, as both soldiers, now mounted, approached us.
“Be careful out,” said the largest and most ill-favored of the two. He was English. The urge to spit on him was strong within me.
“We will and we shall,” I assured him, with polite coldness. I gathered my sisters about me, and then walked on.
“Do you need an escort?”
“I thank you for your mercy and your kindness, but that will not be necessary.”
“If you’re quite sure of it, we’ll take our leave.”
“I am quite sure of it.”
He bowed his head quickly. The rest urged their horses onward. I waited until they were well out of earshot.
“Ana! Never dare to run ahead. It’s dangerous.” I scolded.
Tears welled in her hazel eyes. Then a defiant light suffused them.
“I did not run. I skipped,” she retorted.
I adjusted my grip on her hand, squeezing perhaps a little harder than was necessary.
“Come on. We have mushrooms to gather.”
The crumbling outer walls of the Abbey loomed ahead. Ana attempted to extract her hand from mine. I foresaw more skipping and held fast until we’d passed the edifice, and until I was sure no soldiers lay in wait. Then and only then did I relinquish my hold.
“Go, skip if you must.”
