Containment_A Zombie Novel

by B. A. Hippsley

  “Either that or Harry run out of bullets,” echoed Johnson with a dry smirk.

  The men burst into laughter as the tension was swept away. However, the moment was short lived as the sound of sporadic gunfire sounded in the distance. Mason pointed in the general direction of the racket. “Sounds like Harry’s not the only one.”

  “You want me to chase that down?”

  “Yeah. Mitch, I’m gonna check on Clancy.”

  Eddy Joe inadvertently shone his flashlight in Chattman’s face.

  “Say buddy, you don’t look so well.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  He covered his face with the back of his hand to block the beam.

  “I’m just worn out, that’s all.”

  Chattman wound his window up and drove off in the direction of the shots. Colt watched the car drive away then placed his arm on Eddy Joe’s door and peered inside the vehicle. “Hell, that boy looked as rough as sandpaper.”

  ****

  “Well that’s the last of the trucks, we’re on our own.”

  Harper opened one bleary eye and let out a noisy yawn, tugging his sleeping bag up to his chin.

  “Smithy you got a voice like a fog horn. Wake me up when it’s chow time.”

  Harper shut his eyes tightly in a vain attempt at blocking out the grey light of day. He’d enjoyed the best night’s sleep since this lousy operation had started. Even the wooden floor of the pre-fab hut was better than hard ground. But now thanks to Smithy stamping about he was wide awake.

  “Will you listen already? The chow hut’s gone. Everyone’s gone, well almost everybody that is.”

  Harper rubbed the sleep from his eyes with the heels of his hand and glared at the cause of his frustration. It was way too early in the day for all this bull.

  “Gone you bum, who’s gone?”

  “The whole unit that’s who. They been pulling out since we got back to camp. Only us and third squad left, sleeping beauty. Don’t tell me you never heard any of that?”

  Harper ignored the sarcasm and scratched his head. They could’ve moved the hut with him in it and he’d been none the wiser.

  “Where are Dodge and the kid?”

  “Wyllie took them to look for a trailer or something.”

  Smithy took his helmet off and lent up against the wall then popped some gum into his mouth.

  “What’s he doing, taking them on vacation?”

  Smithy shot him an irritated look and threw the wooden shutter open letting in even more light.

  “How should I know? Do I look like the information service or something?”

  If the unit had withdrawn it was hardly for a good reason. At Mercy Falls, the military had pulled out all the fire crews and replaced them with some of the guys. Then they’d connected the fire trucks to gas tanks. The fires had burned for days. There’d still been people in the place. Not even Bourbon had managed to drown the screams out. But that was all behind him now. However, it looked for all the world he’d drawn the crap detail again. Kicking free of his sleeping bag, Harper sat up and rubbed his palms over his stubble. He stretched and yawned again and struggled to his feet, as the wooden door crashed open.

  “What’s wrong Harper, you need a personnel request or something? Haul ass!”

  Corporal Wyllie’s brutish frame blocked the open doorway. He was a powerful man with an unpleasant surly face and bad breath. Harper hated every inch of him. Directly behind Wyllie, were a dozen soldiers clustered, awaiting orders. Most of them looked to be from his squad, but he couldn’t see the kid anywhere.

  “What’s up, Corporal?” Harper asked as he started to put his equipment on.

  “You are, at last. Now stow that crap and get your butt outside.”

  Wyllie stomped off outside, barking out orders as he did so. Harper looked over at Smithy who gave him a wry smile.

  “You heard the man. Move your tush.”

  Harper collected his M16, put on his Kevlar helmet, and went outside to join the others, Smithy close at his heels. Harper scanned the deserted camp area. All the tents had gone, as had all the vehicles; only the pre-fabs remained. The place looked like an outdoor concert, the morning after. The silence made him shiver in the early morning light. His eyes eventually came to rest on Wyllie and the other men. They were gathered around a small flat bed trailer. It looked after all that the possibility of a vacation was still on the cards. Dodge glanced over at Harper.

  “Hey! Real nice of you to join us, man.”

  Harper moved over to stand by Dodge. “Well someone’s got to keep you apes in line. What’s all this about, anyway?”

  “Search me. Wyllie come looking for us, said he needed this piece of crap.”

  “Where’s the kid?”

  Dodge shrugged his shoulders and gave Harper a blank look.

  “He sent him to get Rai and that King guy. But that was ages ago.”

  Well at least Wyllie wouldn’t be in charge of the group, mused Harper. Rai wouldn’t take any more of Wyllie’s guff. Although this King was a whole new ball game, he oozed slime from head to toe, kinda like a slug with legs. He was the type of man who you never quite knew whose side he was on. He wasn’t sure who was the worst, Wyllie or the spook. It all seemed to be adding to this already festering pile of sewage. Taylor eyed the small group.

  “This it then?”

  Dodge looked over at Harper. “There’s some guys over at the jammers and the General’s HQ section, but yeah we’re about the last ones.”

  “Kinda spooky eh guys?”

  Harper turned to look at Smithy but said nothing. As he fell in with the rest of third squad he could no longer resist his curiosity.

  “Hey Corporal, what’s with the box cart, anyways?”

  “Ask Sergeant Rai. We don’t want to be late; we got us a town to kill.”

  He gave Harper a smug look then ordered the squad forward.

  ****

  It had been a tough night and Eastman welcomed the sobering light of day. People had spent half the night shooting at shadows but as far as he could tell, the only creatures in town had been at the health center. Ron and his guys had cleaned the parking bay with about a ton of chemicals. They’d killed eleven of the creatures, not one of them local, and not one of them with any kind of ID. Anne had placed them in cold storage. In fact he’d just completed checking the building when she called him into the lab. She was the happiest he’d seen her since the beginning of this thing, but there was also anxiety on her face.

  “Has everything settled out there?”

  “Apart from the three dead you already had in here and I suppose poor Adrian. No further additions.”

  He placed his hat on the work surface and gave her a faint smile.

  “You say Taylor just turned himself in and... I don’t get him.”

  “He could’ve kept on running, but he came to warn us.” Eastman gave her a serious look and then continued. “Anne, could his story about the weapons be right? I mean would they be dumb enough to use them?”

  She lowered her gaze and nodded slightly.

  “Oh yes and they would too. They can’t risk a breach in the line. Where’s he now?”

  “I left him in the station. I thought it best to keep him off the street. Folks are still a mite jumpy.”

  “Do you think he’ll be there when you get back?”

  “I don’t see why not, he walked in on his own. But even after what he said, I’m still not sure if he’s telling me the truth.”

  “Brad, what will you do about Mary?”

  “Mary? Now you didn’t haul me in to talk about all that last night, so you’d better tell me what you want before you burst.”

  She reminded him of Helen when she’d something big to say, like the time she got her degree. She’d danced around the living room waving that certificate about like a lottery win. She’d been fit to explode. He smiled at Anne and bid her carry on. She turned away from him and flicked on the wall projector, bringing up two images on the
screen. He recognised them from the previous Biology101 lesson.

  “Yeah, I know. The first one is the normal cell and the second is the infected one. Right?”

  “Very good, I’m impressed. I knew there was more to you than a tin star and a big gun. Now, how about this one?”

  She brought up a third image next to the others. At first it seemed identical to the second one, then he looked harder. No, it was different. It had the same ball like appearance but lacked the tendrils of the first image.

  “I guess I’d have to say its some kinda...what’s any of this to do with Taylor?”

  He threw his hands up, giving up on the game. She looked at him hard and waited several seconds before giving her reply.

  “Taylor has certain anomalies in his body chemistry that I can’t explain.” She paused before continuing, “Infected cells constantly change and reproduce until all the healthy cells are destroyed. That’s why I haven’t been able to treat this thing. It won’t stay still long enough.” She pointed to the third image. “These are something new.”

  Eastman walked up to the images for a closer look and hesitantly touched the image. He shrugged his shoulders and turned to face Anne. “They look the same to me.”

  She joined him at the screen. “Alike but worlds apart and that’s the paradox. When I introduced this third example to the infected cells it attacked and destroyed them within seconds.” She stared intently at the images, her eyes wide. “Brad they killed them. Wiped them all out!”

  “So what’s that..?” The implication of what she’d just said hit him like a Greyhound bus. “You mean like... like a cure. Anne, have you found a cure?”

  The excitement of this incredible discovery rushed through him. Could this be the break they’d been looking for all this time? She put her hands to her face and breathed out hard. However, as she spoke he detected uncertainty in her voice.

  “It’s too early to tell. It’s not all good news. When I introduced the third example to healthy cells it killed them too.” She gave him a slight smile. “At least it’s a start.”

  He caught her arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, don’t sell yourself short; this could be it you know.”

  “I’ve got lots more to do on this before we start putting flags out. If only I had a city hospital to work with.”

  “To hell with the city you’ve come this far on your own. Take some credit here.”

  “Brad the thing was under my nose all the time, all I had to do was a simple test.”

  “Where’d you get these cells? Damn!” Eastman looked back at the three images, then back at Anne.

  “Brent Taylor!”

  “Yes, the vey same.”

  ****

  Steedman was immersed in doubt. He sat dejectedly staring at the operations map, with its little red dots. The final phase of Operation Viking was drawing to its relentless close. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. Unless there was some type of miracle, in just a few short hours the target area and all the potentials would be vaporised. He scoffed at the terminology they used to describe the town and its people. It was as though by using euphemisms like these, it somehow created a barrier between real people and statistics. In truth they were about to commit mass murder.

  Almost everyone had been withdrawn from the camp during the night, leaving a small HQ group and enough personnel to operate the ECM equipment. The jammers would need to be operated until after the devices had been exploded. As far as he knew both weapons were being prepared for use. Can’t fault the US Army for efficiency, he pondered. His thoughts were disturbed as General Stone and King walked into the room.

  “Colonel, Intelligence says that the potentials have lost control of the situation. I want the operation brought forward.”

  “What happened General?”

  “The drones recorded sporadic gunfire through the night and there was a serious incident at the hospital, involving a number of ‘infected’. We have to move now.”

  “Did they gain control?”

  Stone shot an irritated glance at Steedman. “That’s no longer our concern. If there’s some kinda breach from that base, we don’t want those things rambling all over the damn countryside, now do we?”

  “Colonel, what’s the status with the missiles?”

  Steedman rarely agreed with Stone on anything, but like the General, Steedman had a dislike of King. He studied the man carefully before replying.

  “Major Naughton has missile one ready to fire; he just needs the launch codes from the General. Missile two has had the warhead removed and is waiting for you, Mr King. Staff Sergeant Rai will collect the device and provide your escort.”

  “No, I want Rai topside. We still have to provide security until this is all over.”

  “Yes Sir. Then it’ll be Corporal Wyllie leading third squad.”

  Stone was right; they had to maintain security until the last possible moment. With so few men they couldn’t afford to compromise the mission.

  “General, tell Naughton not to arm the warhead. I’ll do that myself when we get to the site. But I’ll need the firing codes from you.”

  Stone gave King a reproachful stare. “And I suppose you know how to arm the missile?”

  “All you got to worry about is giving me enough manpower to haul that damn thing down there.”

  “My men will get you there, but after that you’re on your own. Whatever mission you have, that’s up to you. Are we clear on that King?”

  “Yeah, I kinda thought that anyway. Colonel, how am I meant to get in there?”

  “Wyllie will blow the doors with your say so. Then it’s up to you.”

  Steedman brought a map of the underground base to show King.

  “I’ve calculated the area you need to maximize the weapons blast. If you don’t get in far enough, the energy will blow out of the door. You’re going to need to get at least to this point.” He indicted to an area coloured red. King gave Steedman a worried look. “Hell, that’s some distance!”

  Stone nodded his head. “Without CCTV we’ve no idea of what it’s like down there or how many infected you’re up against.”

  “Now that’s a cheery thought General.”

  “Look, why don’t you just blow the damn place and be done with it?”

  King raised his eyebrows. “That would be fine by me Colonel, but we need as much info outta there as we can. There’s a possibility Tellermine could’ve developed a cure. If we can’t stop this then... Let’s just say I got my work cut out.”

  “King is there anything we can do to help you?”

  “Well General, I’d appreciate some kinda get-away transport being left for me. I’ve never been one for suicide missions.”

  “Consider it done. I’ll get Corporal O’Rilly to take you to RV with Wyllie.”

  Stone stretched out his hand and reluctantly shook King’s hand.

  “Good luck Mr King.”

  “Thanks. I think I’m gonna need it.”

  “This might come in handy for you.” Steedman gave King a compact GPS device. King took the device, nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  “Colonel have you briefed the missile party about King?”

  “They’ll be ready for any problems. They know exactly how to deal with Mr King, Sir.”

  “Excellent. I don’t want any mishaps at this stage of the operation. I needn’t say; King is expendable.”

  Chapter – Twenty-Three

  Taylor opened his eyes and tried to focus on his surroundings. Everything took on a dreamscape appearance, soft and fuzzy. He was in a type of medical room, judging by the hospital equipment and the reek of antiseptic wash, lying in bed and wearing a hospital gown. As he tried to move, he became aware he was strapped down. His head ached in confusion from the dreadful images of death and blood still in his mind.

  “Good to see you awake Mr Taylor.”

  Taylor’s eyes came to rest on a blurred figure in a lab coat. “Where...Where am I?�
�

  “You’re safe and over the worst part. You don’t know how lucky you are.”

  Taylor looked at the man, unsure if he was still dreaming, everything was vague and wrong.

  “How long have I been here?”

  “Over four days. Quite remarkable. The TS’s don’t last longer than three.”

  Taylor felt a sharp pain in his arm and looked down to see the man withdrawing a syringe from his forearm. Almost immediately his head began to spin and his eyes clouded over as he sank back on the bed. He could hear the man’s voice drifting on air.

  “Just something to make you sleep,” said the business-like voice.

  ****

  Taylor woke as a distant voice echoed through his head. Slowly and unsteadily he lifted his head towards the direction of the sound. He felt as though he was drunk but without the pleasure of arriving at that state.

  “Congratulations, Mr Taylor. I think it’s fair to say, you’ve actually survived the infection. In fact it would seem you’ve beaten it.”

  The voice emanated from a thin, smartly dressed man standing a few feet from him. Taylor managed a weak whisper.

  “Are you the guy I saw yesterday?”

  “You remember Dr Landon? That was three days ago, impressive. No, my name is Dr Tellermine; I’m the director of this project.”

  The name struck a chord in his addled brain but Taylor couldn’t place it. Visions of Lenox and the horrors in the basement flashed before him. That was no dream. The man standing in front of him was the cause of it! Although right at the moment there was not a lot Taylor could do about it.

  “How do you feel?”

  Tellermine stepped forward and peered in Taylor’s eyes with a small bright pen torch. Taylor shut his eyes tightly, turning away. The bright light shining in his eyes made him feel sick, even though his eyes were screwed shut.

  “I’d feel a lot better with that out of my face.”

  “Ah yes, sorry.” Tellermine clicked off the light and stepped back a few feet.

  “I feel like I’ve been hit by a semi. What’d you mean ‘survived’ the infection?”

  “Taylor, how much of what has happened to you do you remember?”