Omega Virus (Book 1): Surviving the Horror

by Mendonca, D. Manuel

  I can see sunlight sneaking in through the windows in the bay doors. Connor and Penelope are inside the car listening for any news on our fellow survivors. Kennedy is stretched out in the back seat just resting, waiting for the word that we are heading out.

  “Anything yet?” I call out from my perch in the middle of the stairs.

  “Nothing but static,” Penelope calls back frustrated.

  “This is useless,” Connor growls, “We should get going, before we waste too much day light.”

  I agree with him and pack up my journal and open the bay door before jumping in the car with the others. I watch the scenery from the window, we’ve been walking so long I forgot how good it was to just sit and watch the trees pass by me. There are Zombies down in a ditch feeding on whatever meaty scraps they can find. Connor enjoys running the tires over the few Zombie we find, even going out of his way to hit one or two. The road is pretty clear, most of the cars are off to the side, long since burned, the metal charred and black

  “How long do you think the gas will last?” I ask.

  “If we’re lucky we’ll be able to make it to Virginia, maybe a little bit further if the road stays as clear as it is,” Connor answers.

  We ride mostly in silence as we pass into Connecticut, only the slight crackling from the radio keeping us entertained. Connecticut turns quickly into New York, the crackling in the speakers is becoming more prominent in my ears.

  “Wait, turn the radio up,” Kennedy speaks up.

  “I heard it too,” I nod, “people need us.”

  Connor slows the car down as he turns the volume up.

  “Hello,” Penelope calls into the microphone, “Hello, my name is Penelope and I am calling out to any survivors. If you can hear me please respond.”

  The radio cracks, the white noise is almost deafening.

  “Hello? Hello?” a voice fights through the interference, “This is Matthew, can you read me?”

  “We can read you Matthew,” Penelope responds, “What’s your situation?”

  “It’s not looking good,” Matthew’s voice sounds concerned over the radio, “we have multiple wounded and our bunker is surrounded by Zombies. Can you help?”

  Silence again. None of us says a word.

  “We have to help them,” Kennedy says breaking the silence.

  “It’s suicide,” Connor calls back.

  “But we have to,” Kennedy urges

  “I agree, we have to find them,” Penelope backs her up.

  “We don’t even know where they are,” Connor argues.

  “I repeat, can you help us?” Matthew’s voice calls out again, screams heard in the background.

  “We have to help them,” I speak up, “if there really are survivors out there, then we have a responsibility to at least try and help them.”

  Connor grunts in defeat.

  “Matthew,” Penelope calls into the microphone, “We are willing to help. We need your location.”

  “We are in a stone building on Twenty-First Street in New York city,” he responds.

  “We’re only a few blocks away!” Kennedy calls out pointing at the street signs.

  “We’ll be there soon,” Penelope call out, “just hold on.”

  We plow our way through the streets before finally arriving at the stone bunker that Matthew described. There is a small horde of Zombies scratching and flailing at the metal door and boarded up windows.

  “Everyone get out of the car,” Connor orders.

  We all emerge from the car leaving Connor alone revving the engine.

  “What are you going to do?” Kennedy asks him.

  “I’m going to give us some cover,” Connor says with a smirk before driving away. The tires squeal leaving black marks on the road.

  “He’s insane,” Penelope states.

  “No he’s a genius,” I smile watching Connor smashing the car into the horde, and right into the building, “now’s our chance, let’s go.”

  We each draw our bladed weapons and approach the mass group of Zombies, most still struggling to get back to their feet. Connor slips out of the car, his machete already drawn, his blade slicing off the heads of the two Zombies closest to him.

  “Airbags, got to love them,” he laughs.

  We manage to take out the rest of the horde without much trouble. The car is totaled, the front end smashed up. We roll the car away from the building freeing the door of the wreck. Once the door is free we watch it slide open slowly, a set of eyes peering out from the darkness behind it.

  “Thank god you were able to dispatch of those creatures and not get yourselves hurt. Or worse,” a familiar voice from the darkness says to us.

  The man walks out of the darkness revealing his face to us. He has a young looking face, and shaggy looking dirty blonde hair that falls just above his eyes. Sadness radiates from his eyes and I notice the abnormality, he has one blue and one green. He doesn’t like to look at us, his eyes looking down most of the time like he is trying to hide this. His clothes are ratty with dirt and blood stains.

  “Matthew?” Penelope asks.

  “Yes. Are you able to help us?” He asks.

  “Our friend here is a doctor,” Penelope says pointing to Kennedy.

  “I’m not really a doctor. I went to school to become a doctor but I never graduated,” Kennedy says sheepishly.

  “Can you help my friends?” Matthew asks hopeful.

  “I can try,” Kennedy responds.

  “That’s all I can ask for,” he backs up, back into the darkness and holds the door open, “please come in, all of you.”

  The building is dark and I can feel anxiety building in my chest. I hate not being able to see where I am going. I fumble around in my pockets pulling out my flashlight. I turn it on, the soft beam lights most of the inside of the building. There isn’t much inside just a staircase leading downward.

  “Please no lights,” Matthew asks.

  I shut the flashlight off, “sorry. I just don’t like being in the dark.”

  “It’s ok,” Matthew responds before clapping his hands together. A series of soft lights come on one by one creating a trail down the staircase. The lights don’t shine too brightly, just enough to help us follow Matthew down the staircase.

  We arrive at the bottom of the staircase where we are greeted by another door. Two big men stand on either side of the door, each holding a shotgun, machetes by their sides.

  “More outsiders?” the first guard says sternly.

  “They are here to help. The female says she can help Emmanuel,” Matthew responds to the guard.

  “Let’s hope for all of our sakes she can,” the second guard says.

  “I’m not really a doctor I…” Kennedy starts, silenced by the rest of us.

  The two guards back away from the door. Matthew nods appreciatively and turns the handle on the door revealing the inside of the large bunker.

  “Who would have guess that there was an underground bunker of this size in New York?” I gasp.

  “I’m not surprised,” Connor says, “most big cities have bunkers like this. They were supposed to house political leaders and other ‘important’ members of society.”

  “What do you mean ‘Important’? “ I ask.

  “Scientists, Actors. Basically anyone with money or had an important skill that would be useful in a time of crisis,” Connor replies.

  “So what made you so important?” I ask Matthew.

  “I am no more important than you or your friends,” Matthew replies, “we were protected by god. He found us this sacred place, saving us from the ravages caused by man.”

  “Then why do you need our help?” Penelope asks.

  “When we found the shelter it was amply stocked with both food and drink. We did what we thought God would want from us, we went out and found survivors and brought them back here. Many were killed here, not after taking their share of rations that is,” Matthew says, a glazed look in his eyes.

  “Y
ou ran out of food, didn’t you?” Penelope asks snidely.

  “Yes. Most were given to survivors and we had to replenish so eventually we sent out Teams to gather food. Many didn’t return, sometimes whole teams. I started questioning if it was worth sending anyone out at all. But Emmanuel insisted that the only way to survive was to have faith that god would protect them. I argued that God had turned his back on us, that he no longer cared about us. Emmanuel said he would prove me wrong. He went out on the last quest for food. He managed to come back a few days ago but he was hurt, lost a lot of blood,” Matthew trailed off.

  “We heard your call. But we were unable to get back to you in time,” Connor said.

  “I was called back to Emmanuel’s side,” Matthew nodded, “we needed leadership, he asked me to watch over the flock but I’m unable. He is the one who can guide us.”

  “How’ his condition?” Kennedy asks.

  Matthew shakes his head and lets out a sigh, “he’s stable for now. We managed to stop the bleeding.”

  “Can I see him?” Kennedy inquires.

  “Hey Matty boy,” a female voice calls out from the shadows. A young woman steps out into the light. She has medium length black hair with a pink streak running down the left side of her face. She is wearing camouflage pants and a black tank top, a large jagged knife grasped in her left hand. “Emmanuel wants to see you…and your friends.” She has a rather mischievous smile on her face as she talks.

  “We were just on our way to see him,” Matthew replies, “thank you Natalie.”

  Natalie nods at him before looking at our group again. I could have sworn she blinked at us before heading back into the shadows. Matthew waits until she is completely out of sight before waving at us to follow him. He walks us through the mini colony. Many people are huddled together in the corners looking for both warmth and comfort, fires burning close by. Matthew urges us to continue on with him until we reach what I could only determine was the back of the bunker. A sheet divides a pair of walls. Matthew pulls the sheet off to the side and ushers us through the opening. There is a bed in the makeshift room, a man lying in the middle unmoving. He has dark skin and dark hair but you can still see the smudges of dirt built up around him. He is breathing heavily, his left arm holding on to a bible tightly, his right hand fingering a set of rosaries. His eyes open slowly as Matthew approaches his side.

  “Sir, we have visitors. From the outside,” Matthew’s voice is soft as he speaks, “one of them is a doctor. She can help you.”

  “Thank you Matthew,” Emmanuel’s voice is weak as he tries to sit up, “could you give us some privacy please.” Emmanuel pats his hand.

  Matthew nods as he walks away. He looks over at Kennedy one last time before leaving, “please help him,” he whispers at her.

  “I’ll do my best,” she assures him.

  Kennedy walks over to Emmanuel and checks out his arms. There are scratches and cuts all over his body. He places his hands on hers as she checks the abrasions, “You have a gentle touch. You don’t see that from many doctors.”

  “I’m not really a doctor,” Kennedy admits, “I was a medical student before. Well before everything took a turn for the worse.”

  “I’m sure you have the heart of a doctor,” Emmanuel winks.

  “At one point I thought I did,” Kennedy says checking his legs. More cuts and bite marks everywhere she looks, “but that was a long time ago.”

  Emmanuel shakes his head, “you say that because of the circumstances. Your head is clouding what your heart wants. Don’t let the misfortune that has plagued humanity corrupt your heart’s desires.”

  Kennedy smiles at him before turning back to us, “He’s dehydrated, and has lost a lot of blood. From what I can see he is still bleeding internally. I don’t think there is anything I can do.”

  “You mean he’s going to die?” Penelope asks.

  “I’m afraid so,” Kennedy says.

  “Then it is my time,” Emmanuel says, “but I do have a favor to ask.”

  “Name it,” I say.

  “Protect my flock,” Emmanuel says, “Matthew is good and kind, but I fear he does not have the heart of a leader. He has lost his hope.”

  Connor chuckles, “of course he’s lost his hope we all have. How can you still have any hope for human kind? It’s because of your hope that you’re dying.”

  "In the end it doesn't matter if it’s hell on Earth or just an average Tuesday. If you can't find the slightest bit of hope in humanity than you are probably better off putting that gun in your mouth and pulling the trigger. Because in the end all we have is hope. Hope that humanity will someday thrive again, hope that we will be able to rebuild our civilization, and hope that there is at least the slightest bit of good in everyone. That's what I believe in,” Emmanuel says his head held high and his words strong and vibrant.

  He drops his head back against his pillows groaning in pain. Kennedy starts to search through her bag before finally pulling out a small box full of shredded linen. Wrapped in the linen she pull out a needle with a clear liquid inside. She sticks the needle into Emmanuel’s arm and pushes the plunger down slowly. Emmanuel gasps after a moment before looking slightly more relaxed.

  “What was that?” Connor asks.

  “Toradol,” Kennedy replies as she places her hand on Emmanuel’s forehead, “I picked up a few vials a few months ago when we rummaged through that hospital. I figured they would be handy sooner or later.”

  “Good to know you’re prepared,” I say, “but what now?”

  “Someone has to get Matthew back in here,” Kennedy says walking over to us, “he has to know that there is nothing more I can do for Emmanuel.”

  “I’ll find him,” Connor says leaving the room.

  “I’ll go with you,” Penelope says following close behind.

  I sit in a chair besides Emmanuel’s bed as Kennedy continues to keep Emmanuel comfortable. Time seems to pass by slowly, I can feel myself drifting off slowly. I open my eyes and see Kennedy with milky white eyes growling at me. My eyes open up wildly, leaving me out of breath and dazed. I look around the room and find Kennedy looking at me from across the room with a smile on her face.

  “You ok?” She asks.

  “Yeah, just fell asleep there for a moment,” I reply.

  “Bad dream?” She asks.

  “Only for the last couple of months,” I joke, “How’s Emmanuel?”

  “He’s resting. But I don’t think he’ll make it through the night,” She answers honestly.

  I stand up and look at Emmanuel’s body. His dark skin is purple in a few areas, it’s easy to tell those are areas that Kennedy has cleaned lately. Penelope pokes her head through the curtain that divides the room.

  “We found Matthew,” she says.

  “Ok, keep him out there. I’ll be right out to speak to him,” Kennedy says. “Can you keep him company while I talk to Matthew?” she asks me.

  I nod prompting another smile from her as she leaves the room.

  “You care about your friends don’t you?” Emmanuel asks weakly. I turn around and see Emmanuel’s eyes. They are barely opened as he struggles to breathe.

  “I do. I care about them a lot, they have become like a family to me,” I reply.

  “Promise me something,” Emmanuel asks.

  “What?” I ask nervously.

  “I heard your friend saying I was dying. I could already tell,” Emmanuel says trying to sit up in his bed, “would you watch over my family for me.”

  “But what about Matthew?” I ask.

  “Matthew is a good person but I don’t believe he has what it takes to protect the rest of the flock. Sometimes it takes tough decisions to keep everyone alive,” Emmanuel says as he struggles to breathe.

  “I just don’t know if I’m that kind of guy though,” I argue, “I’m just nobody.”

  “You know what, I used to be like you,” Emmanuel starts, “I spent my whole life feeling like a place saver. That the world
doesn't even want to acknowledge my existence. Then one day I woke up and notice the small group of people looking up to me, for leadership, for courage, and I didn't want to let them down. Believe me I know the stress of being depended on day in and day out and makes you miss the days when you thought nobody noticed you. At least then if you screwed up nobody died."

  My eye focus on the ground, “your right. That is how I feel, have always felt.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way though. The same way that the rest of your flock draws strength from you, you get to draw strength from them,” Emmanuel says patting my hand, “I found that out the hard way. I used to push most people away so I didn’t get to attached and feel worse about making decisions. But that’s when it got harder. I didn’t know my flock anymore and they started to resent my choices. That’s how I found Matthew, he confronted me making me realize that I needed to be someone that others looked up to because of hope.”

  “But because of all that, you are now laying here dying,” I argued.

  “Yes that’s true. But although I might die, I know I left my followers with hope,” He says as he reaches under his blankets and pulling out a worn out bible. He opens to a page near the middle marked by the ribbon, “‘for I know the plans I have for you’ declares the lord, ‘to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come pray to me, and I will listen to you.’ Book of Jeremiah.”

  “I don’t believe in God,” I say harshly, “I mean how a being with all the wisdom can and power in the known universe could allow all of this bad shit happen, it just seems like bull shit.”

  “He didn’t let this happen, human kind let this happen. They forsake him, thinking they could do better than him, and then they have the nerve to blame him?” Emmanuel says his voice strong and stern.

  “That’s nice, and while it might be true, I’m sorry I’m just not religious,” I say honestly.