Twice Bitten, Twice Die (The Blood of the Infected Book 3)

by Antony Stanton

  Since realising that Mnemoloss was going astray, Boxall’s work rate had been prolific and there was an awful lot of information to sift through. On more than one occasion the scientists actually got as far as starting to combine chemicals and manipulate them, only to stumble upon something Boxall had written a little later on that contradicted their findings and they had to go back several stages. It was frustrating but even the setbacks proved useful, helping them at least to learn what did not work. After a couple more days they were ready to begin testing their hypotheses on the rats. They had no real hope of achieving success immediately, it would be more to judge whether the compounds they were mixing were stable or had any dangerous side-effects. But slowly, in ever-decreasing circles, they started to close in on what they hoped to be their goal. The rats tended to react quickly to the solutions being injected into them and so, after several failed attempts, they were finally successful and ready to try their drug on a human.

  CHAPTER 17

  The scientists were under no illusions that this preliminary effort would actually produce an antidote, but if the compound did not cause any harm to the individual then that in itself would be a breakthrough. Not having any health and safety restrictions with their ‘volunteers’ really was speeding up the process immeasurably. Despite the fact that this was still a relatively minor experiment along the path to achieving a cure, it had created quite a buzz. The very idea that they were making real, tangible progress inspired them all and on the Tuesday when the scientists and doctors were ready to go down to the Incarcerated they were accompanied by an expectant huddle comprising almost everybody who was not meaningfully occupied.

  As they neared the corridor Lewis stopped and held up his hands for hush. He felt a little like an evangelical preacher. He smiled at the group, unable to contain his enthusiasm.

  “Quiet now. I think it’s probably best if you all wait out here.”

  An expectant silence descended on them as they shifted nervously. Lewis led the scientists and doctors, along with Bannister, Matthews and Straddling, into the corridor.

  Hutchison’s protective screen only gave the eight of them partial cover and they were spotted almost immediately. There was a scream from within and the mass of bodies charged at the door, making it rattle unnervingly. All of them flinched.

  “I hate it when they do that,” Matthews whispered to Bannister.

  The diseased all pressed up against the doors but the integrity of the doors had been reinforced substantially. The nearest of the infected, the Burt Reynolds double, reached through the feeding hole, trying to grab with his filthy, mottled hands.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Lewis muttered, “I think we have a willing participant - thank you Burt.”

  Bannister and Matthews leapt forwards and grasped the gnarled forearms between them. Despite both men being fit and strong they had to struggle to keep the man under control. Straddling and Lewis covered them warily with their guns. Burt screeched and smashed his face hard against the glass panel, his eyes blazing as he thrashed about and tried to claw them. Those behind reacted furiously, all trying to fight past him to get at the fresh meat outside.

  “Quickly now,” Lewis barked.

  Dr Handley brandished the syringe he had been safeguarding and approached. The man’s protests became ever louder and the doctor stepped back nervously.

  “Go on, do it,” Lewis urged him.

  Bannister and Mathews focussed their efforts and held the arm still and Handley plunged the needle deep into the flesh. The man hardly registered the prick and Handley leapt away, out of reach. The group stood for a moment as though they were expecting something to happen immediately, then backed away nervously and through the doors. The shrieks and bellows followed them and could be heard until they were almost back in the dining area.

  “So now…?” Lewis asked.

  “Now we wait,” Rhind replied. “We wait and see whether our guinea pig is still alive in a couple of hours or whether we have pumped his body full of a cocktail of poisons. I suspect the former but we’ll have to see.”

  The time dragged slowly with almost everyone sat in the dining area. Conversation was muted and sparse. Despite the scientists assuring them all repeatedly that this would not yet be the cure they were looking for and this was merely to test the solution’s acceptability as a vehicle in humans to transport the antidote, nevertheless they all hoped that it might just be more than that. After the furore had died down inside the passageway the doctors and scientists returned carefully behind their camouflage screen, with Straddling, Lewis and Bannister hovering impatiently outside the corridor. They waited in silence, none of them speaking. They waited and watched.

  After half an hour there had been no change. Burt paced back and forth and occasionally looked suspiciously at their hiding place. He showed no signs of any effects, ill or otherwise and they all started to feel a subtle elation. Then without warning he doubled over as though in extreme pain. He clutched his face in his hands and screamed, scratching at his skin. Vomit exploded forth, spraying from between his fingers. It was dark in colour, almost black, and viscous. He fell to his knees, shuddering and moaning, rocking from side to side, still holding his head. His body shook and he spasmed violently. Then, as suddenly as the attack had started, he lay still.

  Rhind cursed.

  “Is he dead?” Handley asked.

  Rhind shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine but I’m certainly not going to go in there to check. Either way, it doesn’t look good, does it?”

  They stayed where they were for another half hour without moving. Nobody spoke. Slowly the feeling of defeat flushed through Singleton’s body as the tears started to roll down. She knew that this was only the first trial and she knew that this was not supposed to be the antidote. Yet the failure of the test was devastating for her. For longer than she cared to remember now her driving goal had been to try and find this cure and any setback hit her hard.

  The scientists exchanged a look and reluctantly they all started to creep backwards, just as there was movement from within the corridor. Burt moaned again and rolled slightly, gaining consciousness. One feeble hand went to his head, smearing vomit over his face as he hauled himself gradually to his knees. His skin was sweaty and clammy but the pain he had clearly been experiencing seemed to have subsided. The four humans quietly embraced and remained in situ, watching keenly as he got to his feet and staggered around. Eventually his movements returned to vague normality. There was nothing more to be gained and they retreated back to the scientists’ laboratory with the soldiers in tow.

  Singleton was ecstatic. “I can’t believe it,” she cried. “I thought we had killed him.” The other three just beamed.

  “So what does this mean?” Lewis asked hopefully, although he already knew the answer really.

  “Well let’s not get carried away,” Rhind said trying to calm them all down. “All this means is that we might have a suitable way to transport the compound into the recipient and take it to the right place, when finally we work out what that antidote is.”

  “We ‘might have’ a suitable way?” Singleton asked with a frown. “It worked didn’t it?”

  “That was only the first trial,” Bennett replied. “We should ideally run the test a few more times before we have any real confidence in it, but so far so good.”

  “And now we have to try and come up with the antidote itself,” Rhind added.

  “How’s that going?” Lewis asked, dreading the reply.

  The scientists looked at each other and it was clear that they were trying to stifle grins.

  “We think we’re getting close,” Rhind said slowly. Even while the soldiers had been out clearing the laboratories, whilst death and mayhem had been commonplace, the scientists had been hard at work, relentlessly searching for the answers they needed.

  “Really?” Singleton squealed. “That’s amazing.”

  “How close?” Lewis asked again. He was trying to re
main composed but like all of them this was now an all-consuming, all-important task. It gave them purpose, gave them a reason to wake up in the morning. It distracted them from the horrors of reality and made them feel that maybe, just maybe, it was worth carrying on for another day. Maybe each death the group suffered was a price worth paying. Without it he wondered how much longer they could continue in this hellish limbo. That distraction was a priceless silver lining to their situation, but then every silver lining has a cloud…

  “It’s impossible to say,” Rhind answered. “Until we’re successful we can’t be sure how near we are. I think that we are indeed close but I don’t want to make false promises. It could be this week, or it could be a month away yet.”

  “I’m not sure we can survive a month of disappointment,” Lewis said, his optimism immediately quashed and solemnity returning. “Make sure it’s quicker than that,” he muttered brusquely as he turned and strode away.

  Whilst expanding on Boxall’s studies, they were simultaneously examining three different possibilities to the antidote. Now that they had their ‘carrier vehicle’ it was merely a matter of formulating the different concoctions and preparing them for trial. Even as Lewis walked away the two scientists had started to talk about chemicals and compounds. Lewis did not hear what they said, but if he had hung around for a few moments longer he would have heard them discussing the fact that they were almost ready to inject the rats with the potential antidotes.

  Lewis took a tour of the grounds with Straddling and Bannister. With everything that had happened and with all the deaths they had sustained, these three soldiers had been drawn together, despite initial differences and doubts. Lewis now trusted their opinions and advice more than any of the other soldiers.

  The buildings were at last considered secure. People walked about inside without fear as all the Incarcerated were confined, and all of the area that they now utilised had been verified as clear. They were all still hesitant to venture outside the laboratories however and those on guard still carried a gun and radio. The perimeter fence had been checked thoroughly and its integrity was good, but it was such a large area that it would take a while for confidence in its safety to be accepted entirely. A tour of the grounds would typically take as much as half an hour or more, and Lewis found that increasingly he preferred to be outside, rather than cooped up inside like a lab rat. As supplies dwindled he began to consider organising brief forays to find food, but there was still a modest amount of tinned and dried goods from the cafeteria stores, so as yet the need to venture out was not great. He was happy for them all to remain safe within their compound, rather than exposing anyone to any more risk just yet. As much as anything he was thinking of the future by planning these scavenging missions, starting to consider the medium to long term. As hard as it was, he deliberately tried to distance himself from the work of the scientists. He knew nothing about it and did not want to become blinkered to any other problems that may develop. Nevertheless, it was difficult not to be caught up in the excitement so when the three soldiers got back to the cafeteria he was immediately swept up in the anticipation that was mounting. Nine rats had already been injected with the three potential antidotes, and everybody was now keeping a close watch on them, almost like a religious vigil.

  Tuesday night found everybody, except those on guard duty, huddled around a couple of carefully rationed candles. Occasionally someone would succumb to sleep but for the majority it was a fitful night. Cards were quietly shuffled and dealt, a fresh supply of black tea and coffee was maintained and there were regular updates on the progress of the rats, which tended to amount to not very much. Whenever one of the scientists emerged from their room everyone fell silent. The downcast, almost imperceptible shake of a head caused a communal release of breath and muted conversations resumed. When any of the guards returned from a tour of the grounds they looked expectantly, hopefully, at all the faces waiting to greet them, but they did not need to ask.

  As dawn started to assemble on Wednesday most of the watchers had given in to sleep. Aching limbs moved hesitantly and stretched as they all awoke. Instinctively they all got to their feet and looked wordlessly towards the scientists’ room. Almost on cue, as though they knew it was their moment, the door slowly opened. Rhind and Bennett stood there, blinking and staring out.

  “Well?” Lewis finally asked impatiently.

  The scientists exchanged a glance and then smiled. “Well,” Bennett answered, “mixed results really. Two of the solutions did not work and the six rats died. The other three rats who received the third solution all survived, so I’d say we’re one step closer.”

  A cheer erupted. Elation, a stranger in these times, flooded the room. Singleton whooped like a girl and threw her arms around Lewis in delight. He grinned but tried to remain calm. This was only one more step along the arduous path to success. The outcome with the rats was indicative of what they could expect from the human trials but it was no guarantee.

  “So what next?” he asked over Singleton’s shoulder.

  “Now,” Rhind said, “we can progress to our human tests. We will start to get ready immediately.”

  Lewis stared around the room, at all of his comrades celebrating this minor victory. Singleton hugged him fiercely and then bounded over to Handley. Even Straddling slapped him on the back warmly. All about him there was an uncontrollable outpouring of euphoria but he felt nothing. He was numb. Was it that after so much pain and disappointment he did not actually believe they were really going to be successful? Or was it possibly just emotional exhaustion? And had it all been worth it? They had all declared that they would sacrifice their lives to find an antidote, and clearly saving humanity most certainly was worth the loss of a small number of individuals. But that was just words. And when those words had names, real people that he knew personally, that he had lived alongside, fought with and watched succumb, it took on a new significance. He still knew in his head that it was a commendable trade but his heart found it difficult to reconcile.

  The scientists were ready to test the one solution on the humans. They would inject three of the infected at the same time. As they filed out, surrounded by the excited mob, Lewis remained where he was, sitting quietly on a chair, staring at the backs of his fellow companions. He watched them all depart and listened as the sounds of their enthusiasm grew distant and diminished, leaving him alone and in silence. He sat like that, staring at his crossed hands on the wooden table for a minute or more until the door swung slowly open. He did not look up as Singleton crossed the room. It was only as she sat wordlessly beside him and placed a gentle hand on his that he glanced at her. She said nothing but returned his look, her own eyes mirroring all of his emotions.

  They were all in this together.

  The living and the dead, they had all paid a high price and there was nowhere left to turn.

  This had better work, or else…

  The two of them were still sitting in silence when the door to the canteen crashed open.

  “Help!”

  It was Masters. He was ashen and breathless. They were on their feet and sprinting after him immediately. Lewis un-holstered his Browning even as he ran, gripping its cold metal tightly in a tense fist. His sense of unease was back in spades.

  They arrived at the room Masters shared with Vida. Lewis was confused as nothing seemed to be out of place. “What’s the matter?” he panted.

  Masters pointed. “She was there,” he exclaimed. “She was right there…”

  “Masters,” Lewis said sharply, putting a firm hand on the man’s shoulder. He could feel the hairs on his neck stand on end. “What on earth’s going on?”

  “Masters turned to face him now with a look that was half way between crestfallen and terrified. “It’s Vida. In all the excitement I lost her as we followed everyone to the Incarcerated. One minute she was beside me holding my hand, the next she wasn’t. I came back here looking for her and she was lying on our bed. She was gasping and wheezing
. She couldn’t breathe. She was writhing around as if in pain and seemed to have relapsed into unconsciousness again. Her eyes were closed and I couldn’t get any response from her. And now she’s gone.”

  Lewis reacted immediately. He grabbed him by the arm and propelled him from the room. All hope for the future was gone. He was back to survival for one moment at a time. His instincts were screaming and his overwhelming sense of danger had returned. “Back to the dining room now!” he barked at them both.

  “What?” Masters started to stammer but Lewis cut him short and shoved him forcefully.

  “Run!”

  As they charged along the corridor he glanced fearfully back over his shoulder. He shouted into his radio. “Straddling, get everybody back to the cafeteria immediately.”

  They arrived and stood waiting in the centre of the canteen. As Lewis paced around them he could hear the sounds of all his colleagues returning from the Incarcerated. There seemed to be no rush, no sense of urgency. Too damn slow. Straddling bustled in ahead of the group.

  “What’s up boss? You sounded strange,” but he stopped when he saw the look on Lewis’s face.

  “Vida’s gone missing,” Lewis snapped. “She slipped away from Masters, and he found her in some kind of fit. And now she’s gone. Organise a search party. We’re going out to find her. Everyone else stays here.” He suddenly noticed something. “Where are the scientists?”