Omega Virus (Book 1): Beta Hour

by Jake A. Strife

  I walked out into the hall, guns drawn and decisive, my enemies deserved what they were about to get.

  LEVEL 08 – CLIMBING THE LADDER

  Dead Kissers, purification methods, and Pastor Pa Bernard; they were all causing my stomach to turn. Anger bled from my veins. I couldn't stand by and let the bastard get away with anything more. I'd kill him, even if I had to die trying.

  I walked through the second-floor hallway, past a mirror, and for a brief moment, I could make out the expression on my face. It scared the crap out of me. Hatred and rage had taken over my features. I'd already lost myself due to the ZPoc. Had it changed me so drastically in a matter of hours? Could Pa have once been good? I shook my head. Pa and his people were evil; they weren't programmed. They chose to be evil, and for that reason, I would end them.

  I tiptoed from one hiding spot to another, ducking behind displays, and under tables. My enemies likely guarded the gun section. Kitchen and cook wear wouldn't provide much help. Maybe a frying pan as a bulletproof vest? No time.

  As I came to the furniture section, I spotted the first; an old, fat man, with a white beard. This guy had to be Santa. He'd come back upstairs. He lay on a comfy-looking bed, with his arms were behind his head, and his legs crossed. White cords were leading up to his ear buds. To my advantage, his eyes were close. He wouldn't see me coming.

  A beautiful black blade stood against the bed unsheathed. I shoved my guns into my belt, then crept in and picked up the machete. My prey still hadn't noticed. Being extremely sharp, it would get the job done before anyone even noticed.

  I inched forward and put the deadly weapon to the man's throat. What if he hadn't committed any crimes? A victim of manipulation?

  After a silent sigh, I moved the blade away. No! I needed to do it.

  I moved the blade closer. He wouldn't even get to scream, and no one would even know. I tried to jerk the weapon, but Tiffany's scream echoed through the entire store. My eyes flew wide. As I turned, a cast iron grip clamped my wrist. I slowly turned back, to find Santa glaring.

  “Whatcha doin' boy?” He grumbled.

  From across the store, Merla yelled, “What's going on?”

  I struggled and tried to push the blade toward him, but he held my arm out wide.

  “Let go!” I whispered.

  His fat smile tripled his chin. “Not a chance.”

  The slapping of shoes echoed. I had to deal with him quick.

  “Just give me my friends!” I said.

  “Screw you, brat.”

  If they made it to us and had a gun, that would be it.

  I tore my arm free and drew the Smith & Wesson from Wesley. He tried to smack it away, but I shoved the gun under his blubbery chin. His eyes widened, but I couldn't pull it. Why wouldn't my finger move?

  “You ain't havin' no guts kid!” He laughed. “Now ya gonna die!”

  I couldn't afford to die, so I swallowed hard and curled my finger around the trigger. He couldn't believe it, and neither could I. The gun went off, and his head jerked, crimson gore splattering the white pillows behind him. I pulled free from his grasp and fell back.

  I'd killed someone! Not just a Corpse, but a person.

  “Oh crap,” I whispered as my legs became rubber, and vomit rose into my throat.

  A bullet sizzled past and shattered the bottom part of a mirror to my right. An unbroken piece of glass showed a girl in the reflection. It had to be Merlda. I turned, holding up my gun. I hadn't expected her to be as tiny as a child, yet still a woman. Her blue hair hung over her eyes.

  “You son-of-a-bitch!” she shouted.

  She released every bullet until her pistol clicked over and over. I expected to feel the cold embrace of death, but only a trickle of blood ran from my cheek to my lips. I reached up and found my fingers stained red. A bullet had nicked the side of my face. Somehow she'd missed every shot. Merlda kept clicking her gun.

  She stared with utter hatred. As I lifted my gun, she dropped hers and went for another gun strapped to her back, a shotgun; she wouldn't miss with a spread shot.

  “Freeze!” I snapped.

  She froze and held up her hands. “W-wait.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  “I'll do anything!” she said, “You and I, we can leave here together. Just us, huh? You can do whatever you want to me. Sound good, huh? Your own little dirty, slave?”

  The first guy downstairs, Henry; he wanted me to kill her for cheating on him. Could I judge her for such a thing?

  “Get back ya stupid bitch!” A giant of a man appeared from nowhere.

  He smacked Merlda, sending her flying. An utter beast built like a pro-wrestler, his head gleamed. His salt and pepper beard hung to his tank top, covered in blood. Tattoos ran up and down his arms. Each muscle rippled with a personality of its own.

  The man glared at me over an enormous nose. To add insult to injury, he turned and spat on Merlda.

  “I ought to kill you myself ya little slut!” He coughed loudly and spat on her again. “You don't offer yourself to Dead Kissers.”

  “I'm sorry Pa!” Merlda scrambled away.

  “He don't need to be purified. He needs to be killed!” Pa kicked her in the gut.

  She cried out, “I'm pregnant you asshole!”

  He'd probably just killed her baby.

  I drew my other pistol and aimed both at the giant.

  “Go ahead and shoot,” he said, “The Lord won't let you hit me. And with him as my witness, I'll see you dead.”

  “I doubt it,” I said. “I'll give you the same chance I gave Santa. Give me my friends.”

  “The two Dead Kissers over there are your friends?” He laughed. “I was gonna purify the girlie nice and good-like. Bend her over and--”

  Bang. I'd pulled the trigger, but he laughed. I'd completely missed.

  “See? Lord ain't on yer side!”

  The giant closed the distance in two great strides. He thrust his arms out, smacking my hands wide and sending both guns flying. Terror filled me as he brought back his enormous bowling ball-sized fist and slammed it into my chest. I flew through the air as my breath exploded from my chest. I crashed into a stack of kitchen appliances, banging my head and cracking my back. He hit me so hard; I didn't think I'd ever breathe again.

  I wheezed. “Oh, crap.”

  I tried, but I couldn't budge. A half-fallen cabinet flew away, and there stood the minotaur. He reached down and grabbed my head, lifting me up with one hand. I kicked, and scratched, but he had me tight.

  “Ye ain't going nowhere, but Hell!”

  He slapped me and once again I flew, skidded, rolled and slammed into a mirrored pillar. Glass rained down on me. I choked and tried to pull myself away, but the glass cut into my hands and arms.

  “Come on, at least, fight back!” Pa said. “Damn Dead Kisser!”

  An elephant-boot stomped me. More glass shredded my flesh as he used me like a rag, dragging me. I didn't even have the breath to scream.

  He kicked, sending me rolling forward. I came to a stop and opened my eyes; Tiffany sat before me, eyes full of terror, and a gash on her temple.

  “Zach.” she whispered.

  Wesley sat beside her, unconscious. They were both tied up.

  “Get up, ya Dead Kisser!” Bernard laughed.

  He kicked me away from Tiffany, and I rolled to the escalator. My head bounced on the moving steps. With that, my strength faded. I cursed myself. My noobish weakness had allowed this fate.

  A scream came from downstairs, a previously unspoken member. “Pa! They came from the stairwell! Too many of—” His death cry ended his sentence.

  Pa stood over me. He smiled and put his foot on my chest. “I'll deal with the deadies later, for now, ye ready to give up and see ya poppy, the dark one?”

  I glared through blood stained eyes as he put more weight on my chest.

  “You didn't even put up a fight.”

  “Please,” I said.

  “What's that Devil Spawn?
”

  A metallic clank came up the stairs behind me. Could it be a weapon? With my hand back, I reached out.

  “Go to hell,” I said.

  “What was that, ya little piece of crap?” he leaned in close. “I couldn't hear ya! Speak up!”

  I felt the cold steel shape of a pistol touching my hand from behind.

  “Let's see your Lord protect you now.” I grabbed the gun and spun it to the side of his head.

  “Long live the Gaming Gods,” I said.

  The gunshot went off, and the bastard fell, crushing me beneath him. I couldn't breathe. Then a long groan came from just down the escalator.

  The Corpses were coming.

  I gasped, pushed, wiggled and kicked.

  “Help!”

  The Corpses would be upon me any second.

  I turned the gun back and started firing blindly. I might have hit a Corpse in the torso, but only a headshot would kill them.

  “Please!” I begged.

  The large body of Bernard jerked to the side, and a hand appeared. I grabbed it just as the first Corpse lunged. The monster missed my head and shattered its teeth on the escalator.

  With a deep sigh, I found a small group; Kessa, Wesley, Tiffany, and for some reason Merlda. Wesley patted my back and went to do his thing, slaughtering the Corpses.

  “Oh, Zach!” Tiffany rushed me and wiped the blood from my face.

  I winced, the cuts were everywhere.

  “My angel!” Kessa said. “You saved me!”

  “Angel?” Tiffany scoffed.

  Kessa pushed Tiffany aside and hugged me tight. I cried out, and Tiffany pulled her away. “He's hurt, you dumb bitch!”

  “But he needs me!” Kessa replied.

  “Back off!”

  “Let the girl take care of her guy,” Merlda scolded Kessa, who quickly backed away, sighing.

  “I saw what you did,” Tiffany said.

  “I beat the bad guys,” I grinned. “I guess PvP isn't so hard after all.”

  “You nearly got yourself killed, moron!”

  “But I—”

  “And you killed someone.”

  “Two, but--”

  She slapped me. “Never take a life! Life is too precious!”

  I bit back the stinging pain. “I couldn't have saved everyone if--”

  Tiffany looked at Kessa. “You can have him. He doesn't understand anything.”

  “What don't I understand?”

  “Are ya alright? My angel?” Kess asked.

  “Please, my name is Zach,” I said but focused on Tiffany walking away.

  I swore I heard a sob. What had I done to make her cry? Something beeped over and over.

  Wesley appeared with the radio receiver in hand. “What's wrong?”

  Dave's voice cried across the radio. “Corpses! Hundreds! Maybe thousands! They came in through the front door!”

  “But it's impenetrable!” Wesley snapped.

  “The hand scanner!” Dave yelled. “Someone let them in.”

  The intercom piece went quiet.

  “Someone let them in? Who, dammit, who?” Wesley shouted.

  A scream exploded over the radio, followed by nothing but hungry moans.

  LEVEL 09 – WAYPOINT

  Dave's scream sent a shockwave through the air; then a heavy silence fell over us. Merlda and Kessa looked confused while Wesley and I exchange glances.

  Tiffany broke the silence, “We have to get back there, like now!”

  Wesley shrugged and cleaned his dagger on dead the Pa Bernard's shirt. “I’m sure they can handle themselves.”

  Tiffany stomped and shouted, “Did you not hear that?”

  “Hush, Tiff-baby. You’ll just draw in more zombies. In fact, never mind, scream all you want.”

  “What did you call me?” Her nostrils flared.

  “They're our friends!” I scolded Wesley.

  Merlda held her stomach, and groaned, “They ain't my friends.”

  I turned on her. “Why are you even here?”

  “You killed my boss.” She shrugged.

  “You tried to kill me! Get lost!”

  “I’m sticking with Kessa, and Kessa says you’re her fiancé.”

  “Fiancé?” Tiffany cried, and shoved past me, getting in Kessa's face.

  Kessa played with one of her pigtails. “And you care, why?”

  I held up my hands. “Leave her alone; she's had it rough.”

  “You proposed?” Tiffany raised her first to hit me, but I blocked my face. “N-no!”

  The enraged girl's eyes softened at seeing my cut up arms.

  “He's injured.” Kessa walked over and cupped my face in her warm, soft hands. “He's my guardian angel; we've got to save him.”

  Tiffany swallowed a scream. “He’s not an angel!”

  “Angels come in many shapes, and sizes. This time, it's just a little chipmunk-faced, cutie.”

  I started to blush, but Tiffany screamed in anger, “Medkits and then we’re gone!”

  Wesley sighed. “About time, Tiff-Baby! We've gotta save the Gamer's Guild.”

  Tiffany stormed past Wesley, and it amazed me she didn't stab him in the face. I raced after her. “I’m coming with you.”

  Kessa grabbed my arm, “Don't leave me!”

  Tiffany glanced back, rolled her eyes and left. I wanted to go after her but didn’t have the heart to be mean to Kessa. She'd just been through trauma of the worst kind.

  Wesley clasped his hand on my shoulder. “She’s right about one thing.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “You need to stop bleeding, Anyhow, which way are the guns?”

  Merlda pointed. “That way.”

  He offered her his hand. “Why don’t you come with me, pretty lady?”

  Merlda sighed. “Whatever.”

  They left toward the back part of the store, leaving Kessa and me alone.

  “Is she going to try to kill him?” I asked.

  Kessa ignored the question. “Y’all have other friends?”

  “They're at the game studio across the town. I feel horrible we're not rushing over there!”

  She gently examined my hands. “You can't help them in your condition.” Kessa leaned down and blew on a nasty cut, much like my mother had once done before my aunt took me in.

  “They just said hundreds of zombies broke in,” I said. “That building was going to be our waypoint.”

  “Waypoint?”

  “A place to temporarily stay.”

  “They must be your best friends if yer going to risk yer cute little butt to save them.”

  I walked towards the escalator, shaking my head. “They're the only friends I have.”

  A sudden sharp pain assaulted my side. I sucked in my breath as dizziness swept through me. Had my appendix just burst, or had gallstones found the worst time to attack? No, it had to be blood loss.

  Kessa rushed to help me stay standing. “We’ll get you fixed up, Sugar. I think I know how to do sutures.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “You do?” I couldn’t imagine she knew how to do anything medically.

  She pulled my arm over her shoulder. “Always wanted to be a doctor or a nurse at least, but everyone told me I wasn’t smart enough, ya know?”

  As mean as it sounded, she didn’t seem like the brightest crayon in the tool shed.

  “You can be anything you want now. Not a lot of competition.”

  An adorable grin curled at the edges of her luscious, wide lips.

  I looked out the second story windows. “Do you think this is bigger than the city?”

  “I’d reckon it’s spreading around everywhere, like in them movies. Pa said the plague had spread as far as Arizona and Louisiana. Those are other countries, right?”

  I should’ve corrected her, but what did it matter? States didn’t exist any longer. If the virus had traveled so far, we were in an epidemic, a true ZPoc event. How long before some infected passenger on a plane landed in Tokyo o
r London? Or had the virus come from there? There were no answers, and in zombie 'them' zombie movies, no one ever truly knew.

  “We have to go,” I said.

  Kessa gasped. “Now?”

  I tried to bend over and pick up the gun I'd killed Pa with, but I cried in pain. My wounds were too bad to hold a gun properly. I needed bandages.

  “I might need your help,” I muttered.

  “Anything, Sugar”

  “Be my hands. Hold these guns and shoot the Corpses that get near.”

  She waved her hands. “Corpses? I can’t shoot a gun! The Lord'll never allow that!”

  “No ‘Lord’ is coming to save us. We’re all officially in hell.”

  “W-what if I miss?” she whimpered.

  “Then you take a deep breath and try again.”

  “If my angel says so!”

  We found both pistols and retrieved the dagger from Henry’s body.

  “It’s freezing outside. Why are you dressed like that?” I asked as we passed the women's clothing section.

  “Pa made me dress like this.” She sighed.

  I waved my hand. “The store is yours. Pick out what you like, but hurry.”

  Her only wardrobe addition became a button down flannel shirt.

  On our way to the front, we bumped into Tiffany, who had two backpacks slung over her shoulders.

  “Medical supplies,” She explained.

  “Looks like Kessa knows how to do sutures,” I faked a smile.

  Tiffany looked the girl up and down. “I don’t have any of that here. I only could find pain killers and some bandages.”

  “It will only be a temporary fixing then, my—”

  Tiffany groaned. “Please don’t call him an angel.”

  Wesley shouted from upstairs. “You guys didn’t leave did you?”

  “That bitch Kessa better not have left me,” Merlda added.

  “No way! Tiffany has the hots for me!” Wesley argued.

  Tiffany trembled with rage, so I quickly shouted. “We’re down here!”

  “Oh goodie!” Wesley cheered. They stepped onto the escalators, but halfway down they stopped moving.