Jenkins saw her go down out of the corner of his eye. He looked over to see that three of the face tentacles had elongated like slugs and wrapped themselves around her ankles. To his astonishment they were now slowly wriggling their way up her calves. Sgt. Brown spotted it as well and stepped over and aimed the flamethrower at them. The entire mass of them were now pulsating and elongating like giant worms, the light glistening off their coating of slime.
“Burn!” Sgt. Brown screamed and hosed them with fire. The creature’s flesh went up like fuel soaked rags, engulfing all of the tentacle stalks and spreading across the bloated torso. The tentacles that were wrapped around Dr. Wilcox legs, engulfed in fire, separated from the main mass with a burst of bloody pus.
Dr. Wilcox came to, and struggled to sit up, her head swimming with nausea and pain. Seeing her lower body engulfed in flame she let out a scream and began kicking violently. The three tentacles fell away from her, writhing in agony as the flames consumed them like a fuse.
“GET OUT OF THERE!” Jenkins screamed at the top of his lungs. “COOPER! GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE!”
But Dr. Cooper just slowly stepped away from the flaming pod, which had begun to pulsate and secrete large amounts of slime in an attempt to extinguish the flames. Dr. Cooper continued to walk backwards until he bumped against the observation window.
“COOPER! GET OUT!” Jenkins and General Parker both screamed and slapped at his back through the Plexiglas window, but he ignored them.
Sgt. Brown stepped over to the airlock and put his back against the hatch. “OPEN THE HATCH! OPEN THE GODDAMNED HATCH!”
The left arm tentacle writhed in front of him and he trained his flamethrower on it and fired. He held the trigger down and hosed the entire length of the mulchy, vine like tentacle, which stretched up into the corner of the ceiling. It began to jump and thrash as it came loose from the wall.
“OPEN THE FUCKING HATCH!”
“We can’t risk contamination.” One of the technicians said feebly, looking to General Parker for support. But the General ignored him, watching the carnage unfold within the vivisection room with astonished eyes.
“Let him out of there!” Jenkins snapped. His heart was racing and icy cold lances of fear coursed down his spine. His instincts were telling him to act, to do something besides sit there and watch those three people die in there.
“We cannot risk contamination!” the technician snapped back. Jenkins knew the man was right. Nothing could come out of that room until the pod creature was destroyed and the three members of the vivisection team screened for infection.
Back in the quarantine room the flames engulfed the bloated, pulsating gestation pod and all four of the tentacle limbs as well. Sensing its impending doom, the survival instinct of the creature took over and after one giant contraction the gestation sac burst with a great expulsion of pus, blood, alien amniotic fluid and hundreds of writhing black slugs that flew to all corners of the room.
Dr. Cooper could only raise his arms and scream as he was coated in the foul effluvia. Jenkins and General Parker lurched back as the putrid ooze splattered against the observation window.
Sgt. Brown wiped the gore away from the faceplate of his NBC helmet and aimed his flamethrower at the dozens of tiny slugs wriggling in all directions with the speed of a mouse. He squeezed the trigger and the liquid filth covering the floor ignited like gasoline at the flames touch.
“BURN YOU LITTLE MOTHERFUCKERS!” He laughed with mad glee as the slugs withered and died under the rolling wall of fire. His eyes caught movement at the periphery of his vision and he turned to see the flaming left arm tentacle swoop down toward him. He tried to step aside but the flaming stalk wrapped tight, entangling around his waist. A deep, burning pain gnawed into his gut and he felt something break and go pop inside him. He let out a gurgled scream of pain as he was yanked off his feet. His arms flailed and his finger tightened on the trigger of the flamethrower, spraying the room wildly.
The slime and slugs slid away from the observation window in time for Jenkins to see Sgt. Brown snatched off his feet by the flaming tentacle. Dr. Cooper, covered in pus, slime and slugs was staggering toward the burning, deflated gestation pod when the final burst of Sgt. Brown’s flamethrower caught him and the pod both. Had Dr. Cooper not been covered in pus and slime his inflammable NBC suit would have easily protected him from the flamethrower but the thick, syrupy filth was steaming with noxious and highly flammable gasses and Dr. Cooper went up with a loud whoosh. He began to scream hysterically and charged the observation window. He bounced away from the thick Plexiglas and fell flat on his back where he struggled to regain his feet.
Fire swept up the observation window, fueled by the slimy residue of the exploded gestation pod. The roiling flames cast the entire control room in a surreal, shadowy yellow light and blocked their view of what was transpiring inside.
Dr. Wilcox finally kicked herself free of the flaming tentacles, crawled to the airlock hatch and was now feebly pounding on the door. “Please help us! Please? I don’t want to die.” Her plea’s for help were muffled by tears and nearly drowned out by the hysterical screaming of her teammates.
Three more yellow NBC suited figures stepped into the airlock. Two of them were holding flamethrowers and the third sported a stubby submachine gun with a large, five hundred round canister magazine.
“The purge team is on deck General Parker. Shall I deploy them?” the control tech asked. The amber light of the fire making the shadows ripple across his face. The General looked to Jenkins. He was pale, afraid and unsure of what to do. Jenkins bit back his disgust and took charge.
“Deploy the purge team.” He ordered. Jenkins knew what that meant. Those three men were Cleaners. Exterminators. They were going in there and they were the only three that were coming out of there alive. Jenkins didn’t like making the call, but the remaining members of the vivisection team were as good as dead anyway.
The tech pressed a button on his console and the three men in the airlock snapped their weapons to attention. A moment later the airlock hatch slid aside and there was Dr. Wilcox. She reared back on her knees, her arms outstretched.
“Thank god you came for us!” her voice was full of exasperated joy. The exterminator with the submachine gun aimed at Dr. Wilcox and stitched her from stomach to face with a ten round burst. Her chest exploded outward and her faceplate exploded inward under the hail of bullets, and she fell back into the room with her arms spread wide and her guts hanging through the ruptured NBC suit. One of the exterminators with a flamethrower stepped forward through the hatch, hosed Dr. Wilcox’ twitching, slime covered body and moved deeper into the room.
Although every part of the pod creature was crackling with flames, it burned slowly. Instead of withering to dust under the fire like the slugs did the pod creature bubbled and melted like wax and popped like firewood. The left arm tentacle had crushed Sgt. Brown to death, his flame covered body hanging limply from its coils.
Doctor Cooper finally managed to pull himself to his feet. He was still wrapped in flames but much of the slime had been flung or scraped off in his thrashing. His environmentally sealed NBC suit had not been breached and continued to protect him from the flames and scorching heat and provide him with oxygen. He began to swipe at the remaining patches of burning slime on his chest.
By now the entire room was a flaming inferno. Besides the burning creature much of the floor and walls were covered with the gestation pods noxious, flammable birthing fluid. The fire had spread out across the floor and up the walls wherever the slimy, blood filled pus ran. The lead exterminator looked over to see the tip of the right arm tentacle sweeping for him. The brilliance of the fire reflected like a mirror in his faceplate. He stepped back and began to hose the encroaching, flaming tentacle with fire. It did little to slow the limb and nothing to stop it from coiling around his torso and sweeping him from his feet.
“NUMBER ONE?” the man screamed hysterically.
&nbs
p; The cleaner with the submachine gun stepped forward through the airlock hatch and began to fire his weapon into the base of the tentacle near the main body. The heavy caliber bullets chewed through the thick, plantlike flesh and the burning tentacle was severed. It and its prey crashed to the ground where it instantly tightened like a python, wrapping the ensnared exterminator into its bone crunching coils. His facemask filled with blood and vomit and his dying screams of pain were little more than gurgles.
“Number Two is down.” Said Number One, the man with the sub machinegun. “Number Three, right flank.” The last member of the purge team stepped out of the airlock and took his position. The airlock door hissed shut behind him.
The flaming tentacle had shattered Number Two’s faceplate with its powerful coils and one burning tip was forcing its way down his throat. Number Three raised his flamethrower and hosed them down. The flames penetrated Number Two’s breached NBC suit and ignited his flesh within.
Number One turned left to scan the room and his eyes widened with surprise as he saw the flaming left arm tentacle with Sgt. Browns burning corpse still held aloft in its coils slithering toward him. It had been unmoving when he entered and presumed dead. Before he could confirm it his attention had been diverted to saving Number Two. Number One raised his weapon and fired, the bullets chewing into the fiery mass, splattering chunks of flaming flesh in all directions. The tentacle reared back like a snake about to strike then lurched forward and threw Sgt. Browns rag doll corpse at Number One. A small scream escaped his mouth before Sgt. Brown’s 245lb flaming corpse smashed into him. Number One was lifted off his feet as he and Sgt. Brown flew backward and smashed into the still burning observation window like a runaway bus.
“LOOK OU-” was all the tech at the video monitor got out before the pair of entwined bodies exploded through the flame covered window, spraying everyone in the control room with burning shards of Plexiglas.
Jenkins raised his hands to his face and twisted away from the window but a couple of flaming slivers still found his face, gouging burning furrows in his cheek and forehead as he fell face first onto the floor. He grunted in pain and swatted the flaming glass from his face. With a groan of pain Jenkins pushed himself to his feet, reaching for his sidearm. He looked for General Parker and saw the General hadn’t been so lucky. Not only had he took the initial explosion of glass head on, taking dozens of flaming glass daggers to his exposed face and throat, but the two flaming bodies had crashed into him and they all went down in a heap. Jenkins kicked the burning corpses off the General and winced at the chopped hamburger the window shards had made of his face and throat. The three technicians were slowly climbing to their feet, wincing and moaning at various burning cuts. The sprinkler system fire extinguisher engaged, sending cold water cascading down on all corners of the control room.
Number Two pressed himself up against the airlock door. The flaming pod creature continued to writhe and pulsate but none of the tentacles reached for him. He looked across the room and saw one of the original vivisection team enter the control room through the busted observation port. His NBC suit was blackened from fire and flaking with black crust, making it impossible for Number Two to identify which member of the team it was.
Jenkins spotted something entering the control room through the shattered observation window and raised his .45 to shoot.
“DON’T SHOOT COLONEL! IT’S DR. COOPER!” His NBC suit was blackened from the fire but Jenkins could still make out the doctors bulging, spectacled eyes through the faceplate.
“You were covered in slime! I saw you get torched by a flamethrower!” Jenkins kept his gun aimed at Dr. Cooper.
“My suit protected me.” The Doctor said, stumbling into the room. His suit instantly began to hiss and issue a cloud of steam under the pouring water. Jenkins moved around to peer into the fiery quarantine room. “Check the readout if you don’t believe me.”
Number Three heard the entire exchange on his suit comlink, still unsure what to believe. Colonel Jenkins or Dr. Cooper? Number Three and his team had been sent in on a Purge mission, but if Dr. Cooper was telling the truth then there was no real reason to terminate him. He was the one who had put the Purge Protocols into place to begin with and if there was anyone who could explain this as well as clean up the mess it was Dr. Cooper. His mind made up, he scanned the room about him, paying close attention for any slugs escaping the fire. There were none. The threat here in the quarantine room seemed neutralized by the flames so Number Three bolted for the shattered observation window. He had taken only a few steps when Colonel Jenkins stepped into view, pistol pointed directly at his head.
“Hold it soldier!” Number Three stopped and pointed his flamethrower aside. Jenkins lowered his .45. “Get in here out of the fire!” Jenkins motioned him inside.
Number Three hurried into the control room. He gave it a quick scan. One of the technicians had already fled the control room and another was at the door. The third had taken a seat in a swivel chair and was nursing a severely lacerated face. General Parker’s blood soaked, Plexiglas dagger-ridden corpse lie in the center of the room with Number One and Sgt. Brown’s smoldering bodies in a tangled heap beside him. He looked over at Dr. Cooper who stood there steaming like a hot rock under the spray of water.
“We must quarantine all these men Colonel. The Doctor, you and I included. One man has already left this room. He must be stopped before he comes into contact with anyone else.” Jenkins couldn’t argue that logic. The quarantine room had been breached.
“I agree. But let’s get out of this room into the hallway. I’m soaking wet and the stench from the burning bodies is awful.” Jenkins turned for the door.
“And there is no telling what the effects of inhaling the smoke and vapors may have.” Dr. Cooper chimed in almost gleefully. Jenkins felt his stomach sink as the Doctors words sank in. Jenkins had inhaled plenty of the oily smoke before the sprinkler system washed it away. The foul taste of it was still fresh on his tongue and burning in his lungs. Images of a putrid, rash covered Ron came to his mind. Was the same thing going to happen to him? Only taking root as a growth in his lungs?
They all moved out into the hallway. The first tech to flee the room was waiting near one of the elevators and Number Three commanded him to return. He did so grudgingly. Less than a minute later the elevator opened and out stepped six NBC suited figures. Three of them comprised Purge Team-2, equipped exactly as Team-1 had been and the other three carried emergency medical kits.
“Status report.” Team-2’s leader snapped.
“Number One and Two from my team are down. The quarantine room was breached and General Parker was killed. Dr. Cooper is the only survivor of the Vivisection Team. His suit environmental seal appears to have remained intact. And since Dr. Cooper is the head of the project I felt it prudent to spare him.”
“Check them all.” Team-2 leader snapped, stepping away for the medical team. The three medics immediately began extracting blood from all non-suited personnel via a pinprick on the fingertip. A drop of blood was then placed on a strip and inserted into a handheld unit similar to what diabetics used to check blood sugar levels. One of the Team-2 members checked a small electrical dial protected by heat resistant Plexiglas on the back of Number Three and Dr. Coopers NBC suits. He had to wipe smudge from the fire away to see a small green light on both suits.
“Both suits environmentally secure.” He reported.
One of the medics pricked Jenkins finger and dripped the blood onto the test strip. Jenkins heart began to pound and the oily aftertaste of the inhaled smoke came back to him and he couldn’t shake the image of a black fungus spreading its tentacles into his lungs.
“What does that thing look for?” he asked.
“It analyzes the chemical make up of the blood, searching for any active necrobiotic agents.”
“It looks like a diabetes test.” Jenkins continued the conversation.
“It basically is. The only difference is it h
as been calibrated to detect necrobiotic agents in the blood rather than blood sugar levels.”
“We didn’t have anything like that down at the U.” Jenkins said.
“It’s brand new. Developed right here in Park City.” The little unit beeped and the doctor checked the results. “Negative. All clear. You’re clean, Colonel.” Jenkins felt a cool wave of relief wash through his body. All three techs had been cleared as well. One of the doctors was now cleaning and dressing the wounded techs face. The Team-2 leader stepped up to Jenkins.
“Colonel, with General Parker dead that makes you the highest ranking officer in the militia. I suggest you, Dr. Cooper and the three civilians evacuate to a more secure area and debrief while me and my team clean up down here.” Jenkins was still chewing over the first part of the sentence, the part about him being the ranking officer in the militia.
“What about me?” Number Three asked?
“You’re with me.” Jenkins said. Everyone looked at him. “I want you there in the debriefing. You saw that thing in action, up close and personal.”
“I’m staying below to oversee the cleanup.” Dr. Cooper said.
“Excuse me?” Jenkins asked irritably.
“This was my project, Colonel. My responsibility. I want to be down here to see that the remains are disposed of properly.” Jenkins considered ordering the doctor to the debriefing but he was more useful down here. Besides, Jenkins had seen enough of his bug-eyed face for a little while.
“I want you to report to me, in person, as soon as you are finished here.”
“Of course Colonel. I should only be a few hours at most.” Jenkins nodded his approval. That would give him time to try and sort out the burden of command that had just been thrust upon his shoulders…
Chapter 49
Deadrise Page 34
