The Azrael (Book 3): Alpha Zulu

by Jesse Gagnon

  The outer city realm, the land beyond the city walls, had fallen into ruin. It was worse than it was the last time she was there. All of the buildings were broken into and scavenged by humans and the Azrael. The infected population had grown exponentially and herds were breaking up into smaller groups to support themselves. Some groups were eating animals for nutrition to get them to the next location in hopes to find more humans to infect. Fewer and fewer uninfected were surviving outside the walls. Any small colony that lived off of the grid was overwhelmed with Azrael attacks. Finding Jason among the millions of Azrael that roamed the streets began to seem impossible. Giselle was losing hope fast and the lack of knowledge about his mental state and the nature of an Awakened Azrael were obstacles that she couldn’t defeat on her own. She remembered the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde descriptions but lacked further knowledge. She needed to contact people that knew information. She needed to reach the Veil of the Five Daggers.

  Unfortunately for Giselle, the voracious appetite for human flesh kept the Azrael interested in her whereabouts and in seconds she was surrounded by about two dozen fresh turners. She knew if she allowed them to attack her from all sides that she wouldn’t survive the outcome. Giselle decided to break into a sprint towards a group of five shooting her way through. All five shots connected dropping them. She stepped over their convulsing corpses as she hurried for an abandoned building in hopes to funnel the pursuers’ attacks into one entrance. There she could possibly kill enough to block the door entirely, at least long enough for her to escape out the back. Unluckily, she did not plan on the building to be occupied nor did she expect the six bullets striking her in the chest as she entered the structure. Three of the shots tore through her lungs deflating them instantly. She fell to the ground gasping for air but not before turning and training her pistol towards the entryway. She released a barrage of blind shots towards the open doorway.

  Giselle began to lose consciousness as the lack of oxygen to her brain started to shut down her entire body. She continued her shooting even after her vision escaped her. The last clear sounds she heard were clicking noises from her empty pistol. Faint footsteps and pressure from the creatures stepping on her and pulling at her were a distant sensation among the numbing calm.

  “What are you doing Giselle?”

  “Jason?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to find you. Where are you?”

  “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

  “You’re the only family I have left. I’ll never give up on you. You know that!”

  “Let me go, Giselle. It’s too late for me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. Remember when Momma died? I told you to…”

  “Move on but don’t forget.” She interrupted. “Yeah, I remember.”

  “It’s the same thing.” He urged.

  “But it’s not Jason. There’s still hope left for you.”

  “I’m one of them now Giselle. You have to let me go.”

  “You’re not like the rest of them. You’ve held on to something. You’ve kept your humanity somehow. Mario told me. He had no reason to lie about that.”

  “Are you sure? Can you trust what you’ve heard about me?”

  “Why would they lie?”

  “Why wouldn’t they lie? Maybe they know you’ll leave and be killed out here so they don’t have to look at those awful gray eyes. They’re afraid of you Giselle. You’re not like them. You’re a monster.”

  “I’m not a…” Her heart became weak. “Why would you say that?”

  “You’re not?”

  “I’m still human.”

  “You are many things Giselle, a killer, a hunter, a gray eyed freak. But a human…ha… you’re not human, not anymore.”

  “Jason? That’s not you talking. You can’t believe that. Do you want me to give up on you?”

  “I want you to rest.”

  “Rest? There’s no rest for the wicked Jason.”

  “For your kind of wicked, there is. Just rest.”

  “Rest?”

  “Rest.” A Japanese accented voice entered Giselle’s ears. “You will be okay. Just rest.”

  “J…Ja…Jason.”

  “Don’t try to speak. Rest Miss Gisselle.”

  Giselle finally succumbed to her subconscious and slept. Her body was healing itself but was in bad shape. Her left arm was all but eaten to the bone. Three holes in her lungs had finally healed itself but the disfigurement from the broken bones and eaten flesh had made her unrecognizable. However, the Veil knew who Giselle was and dragged her body from a pile of Azrael remains that were killed by either Giselle or the small militia that were holed up in the warehouse. They managed to stop the surge of Azrael that followed her but fell victim to the hundreds that followed their unsuppressed shots. It was fortunate for Giselle that her gunshot injuries were all in the chest and not in the head. Maybe the militia hoped that the feeding Azrael would be easier targets. They had no intentions of letting anyone else inside human or Azrael. From the looks of the place, they were about out of food and water.

  The Veil scavenged what they could before taking Giselle to their local safe house. She needed time to heal, time that she didn’t have. Jason needed her help, her guidance as to what he had become. He needed answers that she didn’t have yet, answers that she could only find from the Veil of the Five Daggers.

  CHAPTER 6 JASON’S DISCOVERY

  Jason’s vision blurred back into reality from a dark place his mind escaped into. It wasn’t the dream world, just a nothing that satisfied his desire to rest. The landscape remained foreign and rural. He had no clue where he was or did he understand what he was. Again Jason had to piece together what he knew to be true along with the vast unknowns that circled his thoughts. That morning he eventually recalled when he was infected with the virus and a vague thought concerning a muscle car baffled his thoughts. He could feel the presence of other Azrael in the area. The dominance he had over his body fought off the urge to join them. Perhaps his body was among them as he slept or followed them. More unknowns entered his train of thought. Warm blood and the aroma of something human clung to his face, hands and on his clothes. It seemed that his body takes control when he sleeps being motivated by the virus. It wasn’t a definite but it seemed like the case from the evidence in front of him, on him and inside of him.

  It had been a few days since his last dream vision with his wife and mother. They had warned him about the virus. Could he shut the virus out? What about when he slept? Will he lose complete control every time he rested his mind? So far he had noticed the trend that confirmed this assumption. His body had been easier to control over the past few days. However, his attempts at talking and communicating beyond grunts and actions were all failures. Could there be more out there like him? So far he had only witnessed virus crazed Azrael.

  He passed by an old house which windows were boarded up and he could smell something in the air. The aroma was faint but he knew its smell all too well. There were Highwaymen inside. The impulse to break in and find solace amongst comrades urged him towards the front door. The reality of that decision slapped him across the face when voices beyond the doors spoke about Azrael and how they were outside. He heard something about a shotgun and for someone to bring more shells. He decided to not enter the house and quietly escaped into the woods with no objective or destination in mind. Was he really different than the other Azrael? He appeared the same and apparently ate the same. Maybe the control he has was all in his mind?

  Jason felt the breeze pick up as a storm swept through the forest. Its fingers brushed passed the tops of the trees bending them in the same direction. They recoiled viciously when the gusts weakened. The cadence of the swaying trees picked up while rain began to trickle throughout the landscape. The sky opened up and raindrops increased both in size and more frequently. Jason’s body temperature decreased slightly to match the cool cold front that collided with the warm a
ir that saturated the area just moments ago.

  Although Jason was drenched from the torrential downpour he was comfortable in it. A distant rumble shook the ground he walked on as flashes of light painted the sky in random intervals. The howl of the wind escaped obstacles that redirected its furious gusts. Everything around Jason shouted at him with enhanced detail his body never heard before. The answer as to why the Azrael were so successful was painfully obvious knowing how attuned they are to their environments and how resilient their bodies are. After a few minutes of taking in his surroundings, Jason pushed on.

  The sound of wood splintering and fists beating on a solid surface behind Jason drew his attention. Far into the trees, beyond the prickly bushes, a herd found the Highwaymen holed up in the old house. Drawn to the commotion and out of curiosity he ventured towards the maddening attacks. A shotgun blast echoed across the forest followed by three more. Jason picked up his pace in hopes to see what happened. The constant downpour of rain littered the environment masking the detail Jason sought. The woods cleared and an empty husk of a building spat out its contents on the porch. A large herd of at least twenty Azrael was biting into three men and one child. After what seemed like hours of witnessing only minutes of primal carnage ravishing the old house’s occupants the air changed and only feeding zombies were among them. The freshly turned Azrael still seized as the virus began to overtake their bodies, turning them into efficient killers that spread the virus like rabid dogs.

  As quickly as the storm came into these woods it was gone. The intense odor of the Azrael herd returned and suffocated the air with its stench. The sound of chewing accompanied the foul aroma that was once hidden by the storm. Hidden by the storm! Being an ex-Highwayman himself, he was trained to identify patterns and tactics of the Azrael. They waited to attack until their presence was hidden by the storm. These weren’t mindless cannibals sacking a household and eating its prize. This was a well calculated assault led by a skilled hunter, possibly aware like him. Jason scanned the Azrael for a presence of power. He tried to feel a pull towards the group. He found nothing and felt nothing. Was he free from the desire of joining the Azrael? His question was almost immediately answered when a fierce shriek escaped the house from deep within its contents. A faint pull towards the source returned to Jason. He fought the desire and fled into the trees but watched and waited to see what escaped the house. Who led this group into a one sided victory over his old faction, his old life?

  An Azrael larger than any he’d seen before exited inspiring the boards beneath it to bend and creak from its weight. It stood nearly seven feet tall, was bald and wore a gnarly beard. It carried an upper torso of a man that leaked blood across the porch as it traversed across it. The cadaver’s neck dangled unnaturally as if it were broken. The Azrael herd leader raised its prize while releasing another blood curdling roar. The corpse’s insides dripped down onto his face. The other Azrael grunted in response. Without realizing Jason responded in an unnatural groan that frightened him. What was going on? The Highwaymen are unprepared for this new dynamic enemy. Yet, there is nothing that he can do to relay this message. He is an Azrael now, the enemy he once swore to eradicate from this world and for good reason. The leader began its trek down the steps of the porch and waded through the mindless monsters that followed this creature like loyal dogs. It dropped the torso and the herd tore into the twitching mass of meat, stuffing their faces with whatever they could tear off with their fingers. The frenzied feeding drew saliva from Jason’s mouth and it dripped from his lower lip. A deep hunger rumbled within his stomach and he wanted to join them, to eat what was spread amongst the crowd. He dismissed the urge and returned his attention on the leader. It was almost out of sight leaving the scene at a slow jog into the trees leaning over like a gorilla. Some of the larger Azrael followed closely. The rest of the herd quickly finished their meal and hurried after the group. Jason had to steady his step to keep from being dragged into the group.

  Jason stepped from beneath a large tree and walked over towards the mangled upper half of a Highwayman. An end not fit for any man, especially one who risked his life to make the world a better place. Although extremely disfigured due to the injuries Jason recognized who it was. Billy Strafe had been a friend of his for quite some time. Billy introduced Jessica to him while urging him away from the alcohol. Jessica further enforced the issue and almost cured him had she not died out with Giselle. He thought of his sister and how he missed her. He wondered if she was out searching for him. Had Mario understood him? Did he forget about Jason?

  He walked into the house, saw a bed in the back room, turned and sat down on it facing the door that provided a view of the open front door down the hall. The silence inside brought his attention on his own heartbeat throbbing faster than a tweaked out crackhead. Fatigue began to settle within his mind due to the mental control he seized over his body while resisting the others. He had already been conscious for a few hours longer than he had the day before. As the darkness closed in a familiar voice hollered in the background.

  “What the hell happened here? What is that?”

  Was it Jason’s mind, a dream or an actual person outside?

  “It’s a….fucking shit.” The man approached the corpse. “It’s half of someone.” The voice was distant but distinct as Billy’s eldest son, Thomas. “Hey Jill, over here, somthin’s happened to Dad’s place.”

  Thomas and Billy weren’t on speaking terms the last they talked. He disagreed with Thomas marrying Jill, and for good reason. Jill was a twat. She was a nasty cheap bar stripper with no class before all this shit happened. She hooked up with Thomas in hopes to get a free ride; the family was fairly well off. Everyone knew she would screw anything with a dick. Thomas had suffered a brain injury during a car accident when he was in his teens that caused him to show a little emotion about things. To make things worse he was not easy on the eyes, his mind was slow and he dressed like a slob. He thought he couldn’t do much better but was in denial about his cheating ass wife. Hell, if an Azrael was into it then she’d probably try doing it too. She was that kind of trashy.

  “I don’t give a shit about yer old man Tom.”

  “Come out and help me look around a bit. Little Jimmy stopped by earlier to talk to Dad.”

  “Yer brother’s a dumbass for meetin’ yer Dad out here. Fucking place is a shithole and it gives me the creeps.”

  “It’s not nice to talk about Jimmy like that. He’s got a condition that keeps him from growin’ up like me.”

  “You mean out like you?”

  “You know what I mean woman. Stop being so goddamned difficult.”

  “Fine, I’ll get out. I’m the only one with a gun anyway. I might as well protect my investment.” Jill mumbled.

  “Say what? You’re mumbling again.”

  “I said I’m coming. Jesus Christ, you bitch like a woman.”

  “I’m not bitchin’ I’m just askin’ you a question.”

  Jason didn’t care much for Jill. He thought Thomas had a rough go at life and didn’t deserve what he married or the life he lived in general.

  “Jesus Christ Tom there’s a fucking corpse on the ground.”

  “I know, that’s what I wanted to show you. It kind of looks like Dad.”

  “It is your father you dumb fuck.”

  “That’s Dad? Are you sure?” Thomas appeared worried but didn’t appear saddened by it.

  “Did you grab the wrong glasses again Tom?”

  “Shit, these are Jimmy’s.” Thomas plucked off the glasses, inspected them for a few seconds and then placed them back on.

  “Where’s everyone else? Thought this was gonna be some kind of party? Karma’s a bitch ain’t it Billy?” Jill spat on the corpse and kicked dirt on it.

  “Now I know you didn’t much care for my Dad but you can’t go around disrespecting his dead body like that. It’s not right.”

  “I’m getting back in the car.”

  “Now come on, don’
t be like that.”

  “I thought you hated your Dad? Remember how he treated me like I was some kind of whore.” She pretended to cry and she didn’t try hard. However, it worked on Thomas every time.

  “He must have got the wrong idea about you. That’s all. It’s alright.”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter now. He’s dead. Fuck him!”

  “Jill? Come on now.”

  “Fine, I’ll drive myself.”

  “Wait, don’t leave me. I’m coming.”

  “Hurry up, I’ve got Tony tonight. I can actually feel him inside of me.” She whispered, smiled and applied lip gloss on her lips while resituating a few hair strands in the rear view mirror. Sometimes hearing everything causes you to hear shitty situations like that, Jason thought.

  “Damn it you’re mumbling again. You know I can’t hear you.”

  “Good.” She murmured.

  “Again, Jesus woman you’re gonna be the death of me.”

  He has no idea, Jason thought.

  They drove off and Jason allowed himself to fade into darkness. He thought of Jessica and how soft her skin was. Her hair always smelled like fresh berries. He thought about how much of a lady killer he was sleeping around with other women. He didn’t do that to Jessica but before, to the others. Was he as bad as Jill? He hated himself and he hated Jill. He fell asleep upset with the way the day ended.

  CHAPTER 7 VOLUNTEERS

  The day had finally come to move outside the walls and build the hidden lab. The Paul Simon Complex would be the central hub from where they operated until the facility was ready to move in. It provided its own power and housed enough sleeping quarters for all involved. Half of the initial volunteers scheduled to work at the laboratory were killed, Azrael or killed as Azrael. Simon offered their spots to anyone else but the people were still beaten and discouraged from the recent outbreak. Most were still picking up the pieces of their remaining lives and were in no condition mentally for such a move. Simon knew that the project must move forward, despite the lack of enthusiasm for it. The recent outbreak actually pushed him harder to get it going. They needed to know what they were fighting. How have they changed and how can they be beaten? Studying blood and saliva won’t provide such results. However, the laboratory needed to be built the right way the first time. Hastily creating a facility underground that would house Azrael to study would be dangerous.