Containment_A Zombie Novel

by B. A. Hippsley

  “Yeah well, that’s big of you Tony.”

  With the pleasantries over, Eastman decided to take the opportunity to grasp the bull by the horns.

  “There’s a couple of things I need to run by you, admittedly a bit late but still. I’ve imposed a night time curfew, starting at ten tonight.”

  “A curfew? Brad, that kinda thing gotta be discussed and approved before a ruling like that gets passed. The police can’t just go introducing a curfew.”

  “I know, but since neither you, nor Judge Carmille was present at the meeting, I did what was needed.”

  “Yeah, but Brad...”

  “Tony, we’ve been lucky so far, these creatures have only attacked outside the town. Imagine what could happen if they got into the town? There are a lot of scared people out there; it wouldn’t take long for an accident to happen.”

  “Sheriff’s right there Tony,” Benteen pitched in. “We got a lot of nervous guns out there just itching to shoot something. Curfew’s about the best thing.”

  “I...well, in that case...yeah, you did the right thing. It’s a good positive action and it’s covered by the constitutional right to bear arms under times of threat. You get any objections to it, Brad?”

  “Veronica Redman said it was a ‘gross infringement of civil rights’ and un-American. Some people agreed.”

  “I might have known. Well, it’s not. Best take no heed of her; just slip her a copy of

  ‘Swimsuit weekly’ or whatever the hell her kind reads and let me sort it out.”

  “So I’ve got your backing on that?”

  “Darn right. Brad, what this town needs is a strong lead and that’s what I’m...we gonna give them.”

  “That’s a weight off my shoulders, thank you. I’d like to show you the search plans for tomorrow.” Eastman started to gather the maps and paperwork.

  “Um... I’d like to say something about...”

  Just then Clara’s voice cut through the room like a razor.

  “Brad, they got themselves an emergency at the hospital. It’s one of those things!”

  Eastman flicked over the talk button and called into the machine,

  “Call in all available units. I’m on my way. Anne I reckon you should stay...”

  “Forget it! That’s my staff and my health center.”

  Eastman knew there was no point arguing and he didn’t have the time. He led the others from the office, heading for the health center.

  ****

  As Eastman ran the short distance from the deserted reception area to the treatment section of the health center, he met up with Joe Lester. He was standing in his dressing gown, still attached to his IV drip.

  “In there, in there I tell you…”

  Joe pointed to the next bend in the corridor and Eastman and Benteen, guns drawn, sped around the corner. The treatment section was a series of individual rooms. Directly in front of Eastman was Norris Zillman, eyes wide with terror, his uniform dotted with bloody hand-prints as he held the door to the treatment room shut.

  “I got it trapped in here.”

  His voice had a manic tone as he vigorously gestured with his head towards Treatment Room 1.

  Eastman noted the blood trail leading to the body of Nurse Zoë Watson, slumped against the wall to his right. Her throat had been ripped open like a wet grocery bag, exposing the inside of her neck. Anne Lenski rushed to tend the woman but sadly shook her head. Eastman moved to the treatment room and gently prised Zillman’s hand from the door, motioning him towards Lenski. Eastman placed the left side of his body against the door and held it shut. Then, holding his revolver in his right hand, he beckoned to Benteen.

  “We go on three. One. Two. THREE!”

  Eastman shouldered the door as Benteen forced it from its frame. The small room was covered in blood. On the blood-drenched bed he could see Ben Burke lying with a creature feeding noisily from his near decapitated body. With a sudden rush of horror, Eastman realised who it was.

  “Erin!”

  The thing stopped and, still crouched over its feed, turned slowly to look at the two standing in the room, throwing back its head and letting out a hideous wail. Then it started a sluggish but deliberate walk in their direction. All vestiges of Erin Burke gone, Eastman drew back the hammer on his pistol and sent a heavy grain 357 Magnum bullet smashing through her brain. His gun arm fell like a lead weight; he shut his eyes and muttered a faint prayer. Mitch Chattman’s voice erupted from the corridor.

  Firth was backed up against the drinks machine with a snarling Zoë Watson, less than two feet away from him. Mitch Chattman and Eddy Joe were standing some feet away, weapons aimed. Chattman called out another warning, then with no option left, fired three 9mm shots into her upper body.

  The impact from the rounds knocked her sideways but she continued her advance. Firth tried in vain to fend her off, but her grasping hands caught his sleeve and she dragged his hand towards her gnashing mouth.

  For the second time that day Eastman had no choice but to fire. The single round ploughed through Zoë Watson’s head and thudded into the concrete pillar just behind her. Benteen looked back at Eastman, gently nodding his support.

  “The head, you gotta get the head.”

  Coming towards the group was Sam Cortez, holing a fire axe in his hands.

  “Jeez, you took your time.”

  “Sam, where is everybody?”

  Anne Lenski was concerned. “After Erin killed Zoë, Elle-May barricaded everyone in the day room. We figured with the shots, you guys must have turned up.”

  Eastman walked over to Anne and took her arm. “You alright Anne?”

  She tugged away and gave him a venomous stare. “You killed Zoë Watson right in front of me. What the hell happened to taking them alive?”

  “Another few inches and you’d have your stage zero patient, starting with Firth.”

  Lenski wrapped her arms around her body and stared at the bloody handprints on the wall.

  “This whole damn place is contaminated! We’ve got to keep people away until it’s cleaned and...”

  “How’d Zoë do that? How’d she get up like that? She was dead. I seen her dead.”

  Anne Lenski looked over at Norris; he was sitting on the floor and shaking like a leaf. He was perfectly right but she had no idea how to answer him.

  Eastman called his officers to him. “Okay fellas, I know it’s a mess here, but we gotta keep people away from the bodies and blood. Get your latex on and don’t touch anything.”

  Firth caught hold of Eastman and warmly shook his hand. “I owe you big time buddy. She almost got me back there.”

  “That’s why we need a curfew and armed patrols.”

  “You’re damn right. No problem there.”

  “Tony, we gonna need a statement on all this come tomorrow morning. Can you make a start on it for me?”

  Firth nodded in agreement and walked off towards Anne Lenski. Benteen had organised a containment area around the contaminated sections. The last thing they wanted was further infections. Joe Lester was sitting, watching all the bustle with a casual air, tutting away to himself every now and then, as if to some hidden agenda. Eastman called Benteen over to his side. There was a lot to get on with.

  “Gerard, pretty soon we gonna have half the town at those doors, curfew or no curfew. But nobody’s getting in here until its safe. Now you’re in charge. I got something to do.”

  “I’ll call in some of the guys. Where you going, Brad?”

  “To do something I should have done a long way back.”

  Firth watched as Eastman left the corridor. Where’d he think he was going at a time like this? No matter, it suited Firth to have him out of the picture awhile; he had questions for Lenski. He moved alongside her and took his chance.

  “Anne, I’m so sorry about Zoë, she was a wonderful person. I feel kinda responsible for what happened.”

  “Tony, that wasn’t Zoë anymore. You can’t blame yourself for that.” />
  “Snapping at me like that, I thought I’d had it. Is that what happens when you get bitten?”

  “No, not if I can find a way to stop it.”

  “But it’s gotta be a bite right, I mean that’s how it starts?”

  “It can come from the smallest scratch. Anything that causes contaminated fluid or blood to get into your bloodstream can cause infection. What I really need is someone in the early stages. If you’re worried I can test you right now?”

  “No! No, no need she never got that close.”

  He withdrew, putting his hands up. “It’s been a long day Anne. I’m headed for home. Guess I’ll see you in the morning?”

  Firth waved his farewell and started for the exit. No one noticed him leave. There was no way he was handing Conrad over for tests for her to experiment on. He was safer at home.

  ****

  Taylor’s eyes were adjusting to the dark, he’d worked out that lights out was anywhere between 21:30 to 22:00. The hillbilly pie he’d eaten sat like a rock in his gut. They’d had a busy day judging by what he’d gathered. It was surprising what Intel could be obtained by just pretending to be asleep. At least one of the missing kids had been killed while another was still lost. But as far as he could tell the other kids had been brought back. Some guy called ‘Sarge’ had brought one kid back on his own but there was something about a run in with two, possibly three of the creatures. This was bad news; it showed an increase in the threat level. This could lead to some type of intervention force being involved; if it wasn’t already there.

  The most interesting part of info however, had come about half an hour ago. One of the redneck’s radios had blurted out there’d been some kind of incident at the hospital. The old guy, who’d been in jail for killing one of the things a day back, had mentioned his wife had been bitten and was in the hospital. There’d also been an infected kid there too. Now if these bozos hadn’t been careful then either of these two could have attacked someone.

  Suddenly, brightness from the strip lights flooded through his eyelids. Eastman was striding into the room towards his cell, but this was a different looking Eastman than he’d seen previously. He unholstered his revolver and pointed it directly at Taylor, drawing the hammer back, with a loud metallic click.

  “There are people dying in my town, good people and I’ve just had to kill two of them myself. Now, tell me what I want to know, you lousy son of a bitch! Or I’ll blow your God damn head off!”

  Yeah, Eastman had a very different look and Taylor had seen it on so many guys in combat. It was that look that meant someone was going to die. He knew this was a turning point, something had happened to tip this guy over the edge. Taylor would need to be very careful if he wanted to come out of this in one piece.

  “You need to think very carefully about what you say in the next few minutes.” Eastman eased the safety catch off the weapon, “I want to know what these things are, what you got to do with them and who the hell are you anyway?”

  “They’re the result of a failed medical test.”

  He stopped to gauge the other man’s response. He was still alive, that was always a good result.

  “Keep talking.”

  “ZerTon was a pharmaceutical research company conducting tests, experiments into cures for this and that. This one went wrong, creating the things you’ve seen.”

  Taylor had developed a heightened sense in reading people. Facial expressions, body language, even a shift in stance. The blood had returned to Eastman’s whitened fingers, as he relaxed his grip. However, the pistol still remained trained on Taylor.

  “And you, what’s your connection with all this?”

  “Mind telling me what you’re doing there, Boss?”

  To his surprise, Taylor had failed to notice the arrival of Benteen in the cell-block. Benteen slowly walked into the room and stood at an angle to Eastman. Worryingly, Taylor noticed Eastman gave a flash of anger, once again tightening his grip on the pistol butt.

  “I gave you instructions, now leave me the hell alone and get them done!”

  “No can do Brad. What you doing, target practice? You know the rules about weapons in the detention area.”

  “Gerard, will you just get the hell outta here!”

  “You running a private neck tie party here boss? ‘Cause it sure looks that way.”

  Was this some kind of ‘good cop bad cop’ routine? Taylor doubted Benteen’s ability or indeed, intelligence, to carry out such a ruse.

  Eastman shot Benteen a sideways glance. “Gerard, you stay outta this, you hear me?”

  Taylor watched as the big man lowered his eyes and moved back from Eastman. Just how far was this cop going to take this?

  “I was a PI.”

  Taylor focused on Eastman and continued.

  “The people I worked for were hired by a rival Pharmaceutical outfit to spy on ZerTon. I discovered their secret and then they discovered me.”

  “Now, don’t tell me… and then you escaped?”

  Eastman narrowed his eyes and glared at Taylor. “You gonna have to do better than that.”

  “Somebody shut them down but not before they shut us down, permanently. They took our office out and murdered my boss, fitted me up and I went on the run.”

  “The thing is you see, you and those things pitched up here at exactly the same time. Now it seems to me, if you’re trying to get away from them, wouldn’t you be running the other way? That kinda rains on your parade.”

  “I got a death bed confession off a guy who said that ZerTon had transferred operations to this area. I wanted to shut them down.”

  “Aw, Brad. How much of this horse crap you gonna fall for? This guy’s full of it!”

  “Listen Eastman, that baboon over there is too dumb to even understand what I’m saying here. But you, you’ve seen things these last few days that have taken you to the Twilight Zone. You gotta wake up and smell the coffee, before it’s too late.”

  Slowly Eastman lowered his pistol, clicked the safety catch on, and eased the hammer forward, holstering the weapon.

  “Okay, you made a good case, but I’m sure as hell you’ve got a lot more in that head of yours. For now at least we’ve made a start. Now, how about a name for you, Mr...?”

  “Taylor. My name’s Brent Taylor.”

  Chapter -Fourteen

  Bridget Firth sat in her most comfortable chair picking the remnants of roast chicken from her flawless teeth; implants, the result of too much candy as a child. She kicked her pink fluffy slippers off her feet and drew her tanned legs up under her. The Roman numerals on the wall clock confused her but Tony said it showed class. She checked the time on the TV remote, it was almost midnight. If he wasn’t back soon, she was going to bed. He’d probably stopped off to see that no-good brother of his.

  There was something going on with them. She’d never liked Peter and it wasn’t all to do with him beating Mary – she didn’t like her either – the guy was just a creep. Even after all this time, it still infuriated her when she thought about her wedding reception. She put up with him for Tony’s sake, but she hated him anywhere near Conrad.

  At least Conrad was looking better after his bath; she’d dressed his wounds and made him freshen up. Although he’d refused anything to eat, he’d told her about his ordeal. It annoyed her to think of the way the other kids had left him to save their hides. He’d desperately tried to save that poor girl and the others had used it as an opportunity to run away. But at least he was safe now.

  She’d even given Conrad the candy bar that she’d been hiding from Tony. He was always going on at her about that lousy diet; she’d had more than enough of it. He wasn’t exactly an oil painting himself. It always made her laugh when he put sun-screen on his bald head. She looked up at the clock; just after midnight. Then she heard the key turn in the front door.

  She switched on the ornate glass chandelier, fully illuminating the room and watched as Tony trudged toward her. He looked terrible. His face
was pale and drawn and his eyes were red and puffy. If she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn he’d been crying.

  “Jeez, Tony you alright?”

  “I watched people die tonight.”

  She listened in stunned silence as her husband related the events at the health center, barely able to grasp that Erin, Ben and Zoë had all died. Zoë was in her keep-fit class for God’s sake.

  “That’s why we gotta keep him here...Bridget. Bridget! Are you even listening?”

  “Yeah, yeah. But if he’s sick we gotta take that boy to the doctor.”

  Firth brought his clenched fists to his face and roared loudly, “Damn it woman! That’s the last place we want to take him!”

  “And what you got figured, Mr Mayor?”

  “What if they already knew about this thing? I mean, what if that’s why we’re cut off up here?”

  Bridget didn’t like where this was going. She remembered the stories about Ebola; the authorities had done some pretty scary things and it wasn’t that long ago.

  “So what you getting at?”

  “They’d have to stop it from spreading, right? Even if that meant killing people?”

  “Who the hell is ‘they’?”

  “A few days back, Robert Pool came to me half outta his skull...”

  “That ain’t nothing new.”

  “He told me about how he’d been walking home one night, then he’d seen a bunch of guys in yellow suits herd some people into a gully and shot them dead.”

  That really was the limit. Pool was an idiot; he’d tell you he’d been playing cards with the Easter Bunny if you’d listen. She knew that Tony and he were old high school pals but this was just plain dumb. Tony looked as if he’d been through the mill, but he was just talking crap now. She got up from her seat and marched over to him and stared right into his face.

  “Tony, you expect me to trust anything that guy spouts?”

  “He picked up a couple of M16 shell cases and gave them to me. I didn’t believe him either, until he took me to the spot. The area had been cleared and a bunch of trees were cut down in a semi circle. But just outta the area, I found a tree with some M16 bullets in it.”