The Infected: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller

by Cronan, Matt

"How'd you know?"

  "The girl's as pale as a ghost and Sgt. Porter has a fucking metal box protruding from the back of his skull," Sawyer said. There was a long moment of silence before Sawyer spoke again. "I'm goddamn sorry, Sarge." He sighed and tears welled in his eyes. Acid filled Sam's stomach. "Hell, sorry don't even describe it."

  "Got anybody around here who can remove it?" Cole asked.

  Sawyer shook his head and a dreadful silence overtook the group. Sam reached over and squeezed Cole's arms but he said nothing. Tears beaded in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. Alex sobbed and scooped Artie off the ground. She buried her head against his fur.

  "How do you know about Lost Angel?" Sam asked after a long moment.

  "You're not the first to make it out of that hellhole," Sawyer said. "Come on. Let's get something to eat."

  They followed Sawyer to a grouping of picnic tables set up in the middle of the camp. A dozen men and women sat at neighboring benches. They all stood and saluted when Sam walked past them.

  "At ease," Sawyer said. The men and women lowered their hands but remained standing. "Eat your damned food for Christ's sake." The group dropped back to the bench but their eyes remained locked on Sam.

  "What was that all about?" Sam asked as they passed.

  "You'll find out soon enough, Captain."

  Sawyer took a seat at the far picnic table where four plates of food waited. Bacon, eggs and an assortment of fruit covered the plate and Sam's stomach rumbled as she caught a whiff of it. A bowl full of eggs and gravy sat on the ground and when Alex put Artie back on the ground, the dog trotted to over to the bowl and chowed down. Sawyer motioned for them to sit down and shoved a strip of bacon into his mouth.

  Sam and Cole sat on the opposite side of the bench and Alex joined Sawyer on the other side. Sam stared at the food in disbelief. Her mouth salivated as the growl in her stomach erupted into pangs of hunger.

  "Please," Sawyer said and beckoned at them with his bacon. "Eat. I can hear your stomach's from here."

  Alex grinned and then dug into her food. Cole and Sam did the same. Sam ate so fast she barely tasted it. She knew it was a mistake, knew that her stomach would reject such a feast if she didn't pace herself, but couldn't help it.

  "I guess I should fill you in," Sawyer said and pitched Artie a strip of bacon. The terrier caught it in the air and devoured it in two bites. "You got any burning questions before I start?"

  "How do you have all this food?" Alex asked without hesitation.

  Sawyer grinned at her. "We run a farm on the back half of the property. Got pigs, chickens and goats. Had a few cows a while back, but a couple stubborn heifers and a bull more interested in rubbing his dick in the dirt and that was that. No more cows. We've got a few crops as well. Corn and potatoes. Okra. Some herbs. We've got a decent irrigation setup and a few guys that were farmers in the old world."

  "And you just give these supplies out to strangers," Sam asked.

  "You're not strangers, but I get what you're saying. We haven't seen too much in the way of foot traffic around these parts. There are close to 70 soldiers here and there's still too much for us to eat. We store what we can but we only have one working solar generators to power the camp. So in the rare instance that a stranger makes it to our world, we like to take care of them."

  "How do you know our names?" Sam asked. "And why did you call me Captain Albright?"

  Sawyer stopped chewing and looked at her a long time.

  "What?" Sam asked.

  "What all do you know?" Sawyer said and raised an eyebrow.

  "Not much," Sam admitted as she shoved a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

  Sawyer looked from Sam to Cole. "And you?"

  Cole shrugged. "Bits and pieces. There was a man named Holden Dec—"

  "Holden Deckard," Sawyer finished. "He was supposed to fill you in about everythi—"

  "He's dead," Sam interrupted.

  Sawyer sighed. "Damn. Holden was a good man. That's a shame."

  A long moment of silence passed as Sawyer stared at his plate.

  "I think you should finish what he started," Sam said. "We know about Concordia, and that they've done something to our brains. Altered our memories. And we know about the elite setting off the virus and using us as some messed-up science experiment."

  Sawyer nodded. "Well, that's a pretty good overview of it, but it sounds like you're still missing a few key pieces to this puzzle. Where do I start? There's so much to tell you."

  "What really happened after the virus was released?"

  "Okay," Sawyer said. "The Flowers Corporation released the virus—"

  "What?" Sam grabbed ahold of the table as Jordan's words echoed through her mind. I remember the flowers. They're not what you think. They're bad. Remember them. Remember the Flowers.

  "The Flowers Corporation was a cutting-edge bio-lab before the infection. They're the company that the upper echelon tasked with creating the virus. It's their memory suppression chips whirring in your brains. Their cryotanks. Their experiments.

  "The rich folks, the Vondenberg Group, wanted a world all to themselves so they hired the Flowers Corporation to make that happen." Sawyer paused and tossed another strip of bacon to the dog. Artie woofed it down and then barked happily. "And after the virus wiped everything out, they were tasked with managing the city from a scientific standpoint. Their goal was to create a world where we wouldn't relive the mistakes of the past. They are the nerve center of Concordia."

  "They're the ones to blame for all this," Sam said.

  "Well, I'd put a fair share of blame on the Vondenberg Group for starting this mess to begin with, but all of this is the Flowers Corp's playground. They're the mad scientists and we're they're monsters. Well, besides for the actual monsters roaming around outside. They created the virus, they made the cryotanks, and they made the new cities. But they made a huge mistake before they stuck us in those ice buckets."

  "What mistake?" Cole asked.

  "They trained us to be killers."

  Sam shook her head. There were too many facts to keep straight and it wading through it all. "Start from the beginning," Sam said.

  "They released the virus in 2032. One day we're all walking around sniffing the roses, and the next day, almost everybody's dropped dead. And the day after that, a small portion of those dead people are waking back up as fucking zombies. Un-fucking-believable. It was like we woke up in some George Romero movie."

  "Don't curse in front of the ladies," Cole said.

  Sawyer looked taken aback for a moment and then chuckled. "It's the end of the world and Sgt. Porter's worried about bad language. Ain't that something. A true gentleman amongst our ranks. Alright. I'll do my best."

  He laughed again and then continued, "So now we've got people rising from the grave and Concordia doing their best to firebomb every city from here to Timbuktu to control this undead outbreak. Meanwhile, they discover another unexpected result yielded from the virus."

  "Us," Sam whispered.

  "You're goddamn right," Sawyer said and took a drink of water. "They send in quarantine teams to all these cities and find handfuls of survivors in each one. So they gather us up and take us to Concordia to run lab work on us. Turns out the virus has the reverse effect on us. Sharpens our senses. Strengthens our muscles and our immune systems."

  Memories of Sam holding the General's Desert Eagle and killing his soldiers with such ease and willingness flashed in her brain.

  "At first," Sawyer continued, "they trained us. The infected threatened Concordia's security, and we were viewed as a solution. And for five years, they developed an army to fight this horde that's now taken over every city that's left standing."

  "And I'm a captain in this army?" Sam asked.

  "To say the least," Sawyer said and smiled. "Anyway, while they trained us, the Flowers Corp developed an anti-virus from our blood. Not a cure but the equivalent to the flu shot. Something that would help protect the Concordians from catching
the disease, but something that would have to be tweaked as the virus kept evolving, and that's what prompted the freezing. All of a sudden we became too valuable to send out and battle with these deadheads. So they dumped the majority of us into ice tanks and kept a few warm bodies for the sole purpose of blood harvesting. When one person died, another was unfrozen, and so on and so forth until the Flowers Corp decided that we could serve two functions at once.

  "A dozen or so locations around the U.S. were picked, and they constructed the new cities. Miniature versions of Concordia. When construction was complete, they started waking us up, inserting these fucking chips so we couldn't remember anything and then dropping us off in the cities. Data harvesting took precedent over blood. Each city contains a different set of variables. And they measure how we react to certain things. What happens if we force them to breed or refuse to let them? What happens if we take away this or give them that?"

  "We're lab rats," Sam said. Sawyer had confirmed what Holden had told them. They were one big science experience. Their pain and suffering helped Concordia thrive. White hot rage coursed through Sam's blood.

  "Yep," Sawyer agreed and pitched another piece of pork to Artie. The dog caught it and wagged his tail. "We're all little white mice trying to navigate some sick, twisted board game."

  "How do you know all this?" Sam asked.

  "I was an electrician in a town called Devil's Pass. It's about 400 miles north of here. One day, me and a buddy of mine were working on restoring this old generator when something went wrong. Zapped the ever-loving snot out of both of us. But it fried the chip in our brains, too. All our memories came flooding back. We both remembered everything. We were the first to be awakened. We escaped and headed south. Found an old unmarked army base in the desert. Deep underground. That's where we found the jeeps and the tents. Found all sorts of stuff there. Medical supplies. Weapons. We think Flowers used it as a remote operating facility because we found a device that acts as an EMP. It can short-circuit the chip in your brain. And more importantly, we found a GPS unit that detects when a chip is in range. That's how we knew you two were coming. So we took the EMP and the GPS and started recruiting. Found this town and set up shop. Been here for three years. Found four other cities within a hundred-mile radius. We never made it to—"

  "New Hope," Sam finished.

  "Well isn't that fitting," Sawyer said.

  "So what happens now?" Sam asked.

  "Now we give you your memories back," Sawyer said. "We'll hook you up to the machine and fry the chip."

  "And I'll remember everything?"

  "Good and bad." Sawyer sighed and then looked grimly to Cole. "We won't be able to use it on you, Sarge."

  Cole said nothing.

  "That device they implanted into the back of your head," Sawyer said, "like I said, it's not the first time we've seen it. We've had a few run-ins with those shitheels in L.A. before. We zapped a recruit that had a similar device in his head. Dropped dead before we could turn the machine off. As much as you'd like your memories back, I'm sure you're not quite ready to kick the bucket for them."

  "No," Cole whispered. Sam reached out and grabbed his hand, but Cole didn't return her grasp.

  "Didn't think so," Sawyer said and then turned to Alex. "The doctors can fix you up though, pretty lady." He offered the girl a smile. "I'm willing to bet they can take some of that plastic out of you and if you want, I can shave that purple shit out of your hair. You didn't register on our GPS unit, so I'm willing to bet you were born in that hellhole."

  Alex offered a tiny smile, nodded and then bowed her head, tears dripping from her eyes.

  "Her brother," Sam whispered, "We lost him along the way."

  "Damned sorry to hear it," Sawyer said.

  There was a long pause as Sawyer drank the rest of his mug. When he finished, he offered them a big grin. "There's a lot to get done here," he said, "but we'll find a place for all three of you, and over the next few years, we'll continue—"

  "Next few years?" Sam asked incredulously. "We need to go now."

  "Can't," Sawyer said. "We're dealing with the smartest, most evil motherfuckers this world has ever known and they live behind a hundred-foot concrete wall. We can't just go headstrong into battle. It'd be a bloodbath. We can disable the GPS chip, give you back your memories and the three of you can live a normal life here while we scout out other cities."

  "I don't want a normal life," Sam said.

  "Oh," Sawyer said, "you're one of those, huh?"

  "What does that mean?" Sam asked.

  "Seen your kind before," Sawyer said. "Patched them up and sent them out to face the big, bad city. They come in here like we don't know what we're doing. Like we're running some 2-bit operation and fly out of here on the same bullshit notion. All of them running by that live or die attitude. Like they're the only ones that can bring down Concordia. I've got news for you, Captain, you ain't the first and more than likely won't be the last. You go and you will fail."

  "They killed my…" Sam's words trailed off.

  "Hell, they killed a lot of people. They killed the whole fucking world. Try to grasp that concept. The world was dying, so they killed off almost every single person living on it. Mothers, fathers, children, all of them."

  "This is different," Sam said. "This is—"

  "Personal?" Sawyer interrupted. "Preaching to the choir. They got both my parents and four of my brothers." He shook his head and his face flushed. "But we'll patch you up. Hell, we'll load you up with supplies and point you in the right direction. I've got some gnarly hunting supplies that are going to waste. But I'll tell you this, Captain Albright…you walk out of here by yourself, and you will die in vain."

  "She won't be alone," Cole said.

  "No offense, Sarge," Sawyer said, "But you're a ticking time-bomb. One of these days, you're going to change into one of those overgrown demon fucks and you'll end up ripping this poor girl to shreds."

  Cole looked at Sam, but she didn't break her eyes with Sawyer. Sawyer looked from Cole to Sam and then back to Cole.

  "Shit. She didn't tell you. Well, bad news, you're going to become a giant creature that's as mindless and bloodthirsty as those damned zombies out there, except you'll be a hundred times stronger and have a pretty nasty temper to boot."

  "That will never happen," Cole said.

  "Seen it happen," Sawyer said. "One killed 12 of my men before we could bring it down. You two don't have the slightest fucking idea of the state of shit you're in, do you?"

  "I'll be there too," Alex said.

  Sawyer took a deep breath and seemed to relax. "No offense, little lady, but you look a bit on the banged up side. We're gonna patch you up, but one of those damned infected cats gets its hands on you, or the big guy shows you what's really on the inside, and it's going to be lights out for you too."

  "So you're saying there's no point—" Samantha tried, but Sawyer interrupted again.

  "I'm saying that you're better off settling down here for a while. We have beds. We have food and doctors. You can have a decent life here while we make the necessary preparations. And then we can all take on these assholes together."

  "We're not staying," Sam said.

  "Well, for all our sakes, I hope you gettin' your memory back will change your mind," Sawyer said. "But if not, it's your funeral. In the meantime, we'll patch up you all up. Your girl will need a few days to heal up good enough to be road-ready. Are you going to wait around that long at least?"

  "Two days," Sam said. "You check her out. Get her back to good. And we'll be on our way."

  Sam had a funny feeling in her guts. Too much information had been given. She was having a hard time processing it all. It confirmed everything that Holden had said and confirmed some of her biggest fears. But waiting around for years to launch an attack on Concordia would be unbearable.

  "There's an empty tent toward the back of the lot," Sawyer said. "You and Cole can stay there. We'll get started fixing Alex—" />
  This time, it was Sam that interrupted. "No. I stay with her."

  Sawyer grinned. "Well, no offense, Albright, but unless you're a goddamn doctor then I suggest you get some rest and get your mind right. You'll be more in our way than anything else. Now, I've fed you, I've given you a place to rest your head before your suicide mission, and I've offered to give you supplies. Plus, I've filled you in on all the fuzzy little details. Now you can choose to appreciate those things or choose not to, I could give a shit less. I think I've earned the slightest bit of trust."

  "No offense to you, Sawyer, but it takes a lot to earn my trust. Just because you randomly showed up in the desert and happen to know my name doesn't earn shit. I stay with the girl. She'll be in eyesight at all times."

  Sawyer rolled his eyes and then nodded. He looked at Alex and said, "I'd at least like to go ahead and get some saline pumping. Do you think you can trust us for five minutes while you two finish your breakfasts?"

  Sam nodded and Alex stood up from her seat.

  "Finish eating and then come find us at the medical tents. Straight back and on the left. They're marked with white crosses. You get lost and someone will point you in the right direction."

  "Okay," Sam said.

  Sawyer nodded and he and Alex started off toward the center of the encampment. Artie followed at their heels. Sam had offended him and perhaps turned an ally into an enemy. She was sure that he had told them the truth about the Flowers Corporation, but she still didn't trust him.

  Sam and Cole finished their meals in silence but didn't leave the table when they were done. They stared at each other for a long time, an awkward tension between them. Finally, Cole spoke, "You should have killed me."

  A chill ran down Sam's spine but his words weren't unexpected. "What?"

  "Back at the plane. You should have killed me. Why didn't you?"

  "Because I need you," she said.

  "No you don't. You don't need anyone, Miss Sam. I've seen you in battle. I've seen the way you handle yourself. You don't need me. The truth is you can't kill me."

  Sam put her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands. Her head was pounding, and she felt nauseous. "Maybe."