by Lee Pletzers
The kid looked at me as if I was speaking a foreign language.
“I said, ‘go!’”
He got shakily to his feet.
“Where’s Speaker?”
The kid looked to the door behind him several feet at the end of the corridor. He looked back at me. “You’re not like them,” he stated.
“I’m worse.”
He stared at the M-16 barrel as it leveled with his chest. His hands rose and, using the wall as a guide, he slid around the corner and ran for all he was worth, straight into George, who took him down in a body to back WWE Barrett slam and went to work, ripping and tearing flesh. Blood sprayed as arteries were severed. The kid’s legs kicked for a few seconds then lay still apart from the occasional twitch.
Six zombies gathered around, watching. George stopped and got to his feet. He turned to look at me and blood covered his chin. A sliver of skin hung at the corner of his mouth. Once he stepped away from his catch, the other zombies pounced on the fallen kid. The boy’s hand reached out to me. I was surprised he was still alive. Not for much long though, those zombies were hungry and not interested in making more. For the kid that was a blessing in disguise.
George came up and stood at my side. He gave me a quick look over. “Speaker is right,” I told him. “I will put an end to this.” I checked the M-16. “I will start with that fucker.”
A small chunk of plaster exploded next me. George pushed me to the side and raced down the hall. A guard was still around. I wondered if there were more. The guard turned and ran but was tackled to the ground incredibly fast. George was like an assassin. He was fast, he struck hard and he never missed. He scrambled into a crouch, grabbed the guard’s face and slammed the back of his head into the floor. He repeated the action time and again until the solid crack of the skull became a wet slap. He drove his foot through the guard’s face for good measure ensuring this one would not rise as one of the undead.
I looked back down the corridor. It was time to do this. Taking a step forward, I stopped. Something felt wrong. I’m not sure what it was, but there was a wrongness here. A quick sniff of the air produced nothing but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong. Gut instinct told me not to turn that doorknob.
The doctor started talking again. He was coaxing me, telling me to drop the machine gun and enter the room—we could talk things through—come to an understanding—set me on the correct path for the mission—be the fucking hero I never wanted to be.
He wasn’t in that room. The little shit had lied to me. I looked at the camera and shot it. I went into the main waiting room and shot those two cameras. To the zombies I said, “Search every room. Do not kill. Bring them here and wait for me.”
They looked past me to George. An unspoken agreement seemed to pass between them and the six zombies went off in search. There was another camera down the hallway. I shot that one as well. First two shots missed. Third time lucky. I knew I had to conserve these bullets but I wanted to blind him. These cameras sent live feeds straight to his computer. He saw everything that went on in these halls and rooms.
The room I had ignored called to me. I knew he wasn’t in there but still I had to check. I walked the hall to where the corridor started. I stopped at the corner and peeked around. Nothing had changed in the minutes I had been away.
Leveling the M-16, I aimed at the doorknob. I took my time. I aimed, breathed slowly in and out, in and out. The sight was in-line and my hands were steady. In my head I chanted a mantra: I will not miss. I will not miss. I will not miss. The machine kicked as the bullet flew and the door exploded. Shards of wood flipped past me, some whacked me in the face before I had a chance to take cover but none did any damage.
The sound of the explosion hurt my ears and I dropped the M-16, and pressed my hands against my ears. There was a constant high pitch ring bouncing around in my skull. I shook my head to clear the sound but it didn’t help at first. I counted to ten for most of the smoke to clear and headed to the busted door.
I stepped through the entrance. The room was a mess from the explosion; papers were scattered everywhere, filing cabinets were over turned, some draws open but mostly the metal was twisted and bent. On the study table, I found an old-fashioned tape player spinning with no tape. Outside the doctor’s voice droned on. There was a mic lying on its side with the talk button taped down, and next to that was a pair of wireless speakers. I removed the tape and turned off the speakers. The doctor’s voice stopped echoing through the hallways.
Looking behind me, I saw the smashed window frame was raised open.
Stepping to the window, I saw my Glock, my watch and my photo on the floor. My wedding ring and braided necklace were also on the floor near the filing cabinet. I scooped up the Glock and placed it in the back of my jeans. I squatted in front of the photo and gently picked it up and stared at Skyler’s beautiful face. A deep calmness flowed through me. The rage faded into the background. My skin returned to a normal state at a rapid pace and vibrant color flooded my vision.
The photo went into my back pocket where it belonged. I grabbed both my wedding ring and watch, and put them on. I left the braided necklace on the floor, it was cut in half and unusable. The doctor was going to pay for this as well. The rage started to bubble under my skin, so I took a deep breath and returned to a state of calmness. The necklace was an important part of my past, a solid link to a time that would never return; and now it was destroyed.
I went to the window. Leaning out, my hands on the sills, a cool breeze blew against my skin and it felt great. There was a touch of cold to it, indicating that autumn was on the way. The grounds were empty. Not for long though. That explosion was intended to bring zombies here as they were attracted by sound more than anything else. This explosion was not meant to destroy me as I first thought. The doctor knew I wouldn’t turn that knob.
I climbed through the window and out onto the hospital grounds. That bastard was around here somewhere. He wouldn’t have hit the road, not on foot. He had too good a set up here to just leave it all behind. Then I remembered where George had found the security guards, nurses, and whatnot—at the other end of the hospital.
Shaking my head at my foolishness, I dashed to the front of the hospital and entered the emergency room. The remains of the boy who had stood guard lay in a splattered mess in the middle of the room in a mish-mash of blood and bone and meat. And my stomach growled.
Something deep inside me wanted to rip into that flesh and feed. My mouth watered at the feast laid at my feet. The scent of blood and the sight of raw meat aroused my senses. It was a new emotion just now showing itself, part of the primal zombie virus that flowed through my veins. And if I wanted to maintain what was left of my humanity, it was best to keep such cravings suppressed and under control.
A male scream came from down the hall. I headed there at a quick pace, pulling the Glock from my jeans and checking it was loaded. There was a full clip. It had been oiled and loaded. Someone, perhaps the doctor planned to use it on George or me.
Passing an open door to a private room, something caught my eye and I stopped. Returning to the open door, I shook my head. A nurse zombie was ripping out a man’s intestines with her teeth. She stopped suddenly and turned to face me, chewing on a large gray intestine. I wasn’t in RAGE form at the moment and I wondered if she would attack me. She didn’t. She waved and went back to feeding. It was a depressing sight but I could not blame her. I understood the hunger. I had experienced it first hand in the emergency room moments ago. It was doubtful if any of them would be able to hold back on feeding to follow my instructions.
Oh, fuck!
If Sally is here, I just sent them looking for her.
My priorities changed in an instant, fuck finding the doctor, my wife was more important. The Rage built up and I pushed it back down. I was slower this way and not as strong but if I found Sally, I didn’t want her to see me in RAGE form until I had had a chance to explain things.
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She’s all I had left in this world that reminded me of a past existence where living was stressful but beautiful at the same time.
I couldn’t lose her, and with renewed energy and purpose, I raced down the corridor, kicking open each door as I passed. The rooms with patients in them also had zombies feasting. I checked each one of the dead to make sure it wasn’t Sally being fed on.
Room after room after room it was all the same. There were more zombies than I remembered. Pushing through two heavy doors, I entered the room where George’s blood was fed into my veins. I scanned the room for any signs of life and spied a door next to the nurse’s station I hadn’t noticed earlier.
I kicked it open and found a short hallway. At the end of the hallway was a white door and next to the door was a truck battery with two leads sitting on the floor. I had an idea where that door opened and I was right. It was the room that George and I were held captive in. The battery obviously attached to the door the second Dr. Cannon closed it. Effective. It had solidified my belief that this was a high security building and that the lasers mentioned were real.
Man, I had been duped big time.
There was no time to think about that. Sally was counting on me. I knew that deep in my soul and if she was in this building, I would find her, no ifs, ands or buts about it. When I was outside I counted five floors to this building and there had to be an underground level or two as well.
Leaving the room, I passed the nurse’s station realizing I had a choice to make. Go up or go down. I walked at a quick pace through the empty room. I saw my bent and twisted bed frame and it brought a smile to my face.
Decision made, I exited at the other end of the room and came across a bank of elevators. A few feet to the left were two sets of doors; one had a lighted sign reading: ‘stairs’ above it and an arrow pointing up. The other door had a similar sign with an arrow pointing down. I shoved the doors open and took the stairs up two at a time.
There were no zombies on the second floor, perhaps they couldn’t make it up or had forgotten how to take stairs, either way that bode well for Sally if she was here. It would rip my heart out if she was experimented on like me. I didn’t want to find her here and then again, I did want to find her, so I could keep her safe. The Rage part of me was stronger and faster, Sally and I could live the way we liked without fear of attack. It would be as if the world hadn’t changed all that much.
All the rooms on this floor were empty. There were many beds but not a single body. I found that disturbing. This was or used to be a hospital, surely there were some of the dead that didn’t get up and walk? They could have cleared out the beds but at the height of the virus outbreak, this place would have been filled to overflowing. That’s a big clean up job.
Reaching the exit sign, I hit the stairs again to the third floor. The same emptiness faced me. I was starting to think Sally had made it out safely and was living life to the fullest. That thought warmed me but I still had two floors to check.
The fourth floor looked as if it had never been used. Bed frames had lines of dust on them, the windows were grimy and it smelled of mould. I wondered if the fifth floor would be the same. There was only one way to find out and I hit those stairs with gusto and burst through the doors.
The floor was empty but it wasn’t like the one below it. There was no dust and it smelled different. It felt different like it was lived in. I snapped into RAGE mode, barely thinking the thought before my skin peeled, my eyes changed, and the virus pulsed thought my heart. It was stronger than the previous changes and very fast, almost instantaneous.
I felt fucking great.
And I smelled life and fear-produced sweat coming from the end of the floor. But I had already checked that area. It was empty. My senses weren’t wrong. I trusted them more than I trusted my pure human instincts.
My eyes scanned the area ahead as I slowly walked forward following my nose. As I reached the end, I smelled the aroma behind me. I spun around. No one was there. What the fuck? Was I imagining this? I couldn’t be. The aroma was too real, too fresh.
I stood where the smell was at its strongest, turned a full 360...and found it. A thin rectangle shape cut into the wall. The damn thing was well hidden, nearly impossible to see. The doctor was in there I was sure of it.
“Here’s an easy choice, doctor. Option one: Open the door. Option two: Open the fucking door.” There was no way I was going to wait, and charged the rectangle cut. The door slammed open, the lock splintered sending shards of wood flying into the room. The door bashed against its hinges so hard the top hinge screws shredded out of the wall and the door slammed into the concrete wall and dropped to the side, just missing the desk and Doctor Cannon Speaker.
The man’s face turned white. He jumped off his chair and backed up to the wall. Sweat beaded his head. “Take it easy, John.” He held his hands up in front of him. “This is for the good of mankind.” He spread his hands wide. “You must understand this.”
Not thinking about it, I grabbed the side of the desk and shoved it toward the wall, pinning the doctor where he stood. His hands went to push against the desk. Another shove pushed the desk against his groin, doubling him over a little. A groan escaped and he took a deep breath, his hands now resting on the desk and not against it.
“Where’s my wife?”
The doctor looked confused. His voice came out soft, “Your wife? I have no idea.”
“She was with me when I was captured.”
The doctor shook his head. “The hunters only brought you here.”
“Hunters?”
The doctor shrugged. “We needed specimens for testing.”
Oh, fuck. It was starting to dawn on me. “Did you start all this...this...” I couldn’t find the words to finish the sentence. The Rage was doubling inside, the blood bubbled in my veins. “...this...Fuck! You destroyed everything.”
The sound of footsteps softly echoed at the other end of the hall. The zombies had discovered stair climbing. I heard three—no—four headed this way. “I hear my brothers coming for you.” I smiled. The Rage lessened. He was going to become the thing he created.
“It’s not only me. There are several of us. We were commissioned to find a bio-weapon for the army. The US is under constant attack. Our shores need to be protected. We’ve become soft and over sensitive of the rights of others when they don’t give a fig about our rights.”
“Or religion?”
“Exactly. I’m happy you understand.”
“So you destroyed what they wanted?”
“This outbreak was an accident.”
“There are no accidents.”
Dr. Speaker’s voice rose, “This was never meant to happen.”
My attention was focused on how close those zombies were. Surely, they could hear the doctor. “What about an antidote?”
The doctor looked down. “Everything failed until you came along.” He lifted the computer screen off the desk where it had toppled. He turned it around and showed me a graph with a tiny square in the top right corner showing George undergoing tests. He didn’t look like a zombie.
“You made George?”
“He volunteered.”
“Yeah, sure he did,” I said looking at the screen. “That’s why he’s strapped down, and looks doped out of his mind.”
“A little prodding was required,” he conceded. Then he strangely smiled.
I realized a little too late that the footsteps had stopped. I turned around and two steel pins flew into my chest. An electric shock took me off my feet. I hit the floor. My head banged against the fallen door. A man dressed in army fatigues pressed the trigger and delivered another shock.
Dr. Cannon stood over me. “You are the antidote, John. Get used to it. And do your job helping us clean this mess.” He stepped over me. “By the way, George escaped and started this. He was gone three weeks before recapture.”
Images waved in and out of focus. The electricity was doing a real job on me.
Army tasers obviously did more than subdue people. Through the haze and pain I muttered, “Where are the hunters?”
Dr. Cannon nodded. “They are of no use to us anymore.” He went to the desk, scribbled on a piece of paper, and put it in my pocket. “That’s their address.” Getting to his feet, he said, “I hope you find your wife.” The sincerity in his voice sounded real. “That way you can bite her and make another like you.” He smiled. “Husband and wife weapons, I like that idea. Perfect.”
I was going to tell him to fuck off when the soldier sent a third shock into my system. Darkness came, rushing at me from all directions. I couldn’t stop it. In a way, I hoped I wouldn’t wake up. This nightmare that was my life would end and I could rest...forever.
But I awoke with a pounding headache. The light outside was dulling and dusk was on its way. I must have been out for a couple of hours.
Slowly getting to my feet, I spied my Glock on the floor. It must have fallen from my jeans when I hit the floor. I scooped it up. The doctor and the army guys were gone. The computer was gone as well. Scanning the room, I saw a coat rack with a tweed jacket-hanging limp and beside that was a full size locker. I opened it expecting to find nothing; instead, I found me looking back at me. The door had a mirror on it. It showed only my face but my skin was back to normal. The RAGE had gone. I felt kind of empty, as if an important part of who I now was, was missing.
Leaning against the back of the locker was an M-16 with four magazines stacked neatly beside it. The doctor had obviously left in a rush. I grabbed the machine gun and magazines and slid one into each pocket.
Back in the corridor, I decided to check the roof. That height would give me a good look at my surroundings. If luck was on my side, I would be able to pin point my location, get some bearing on where I was.
I climbed the steps without urgency. At the top, I pushed open the door and stepped out onto a helipad. Looking around, I saw George. Cradled in his arms was a soldier, torn to shreds. He looked up at me, a hunk of meat in his mouth. He was chewing in earnest.
