Outbreak (Book 2): The Mutation

by Shoyer, Scott

  “Did you guys think I abandoned you?” Melvin asked.

  “Not for a second, Melvin,” said Butsko as he winked at him.

  Vasquez and Fisher joined Wilder, Butsko, and Melvin while Mears crushed the skulls of the crippled zombies around him.

  “You guys okay?” Wilder asked.

  “Barely,” Vasquez answered. “You aren’t going to believe what happened back at the pro-shop.”

  “Where’s Cain?” asked Fisher as she looked around the room. “He was right behind us when we left the pro-shop.”

  “Oh my God,” Melvin said, “I didn’t kill him, did I?”

  “Mears!” Wilder shouted to the soldier. “Any sign of Cain’s body out there?”

  “No, Sir,” Mears replied. “Nothing out here but the infected.”

  They all became quiet as they heard gunshots ring out from around the dining room area.

  “That must be Mane and his group,” Butsko said. “Mears, Vasquez, you two head down there and see if you can help them. But be careful. Melvin won’t be there with the fifty-calibre.”

  Mears and Vasquez didn’t get far from the group before they stumbled upon something that stopped them in their tracks.

  “What the fuck is that?” Mears said as he stared at a pile on the ground.

  Vasquez ran back toward the others.

  “Sirs!” Vasquez called to Wilder and Butsko, “I think you need to see this.”

  Wilder, Butsko, Fisher, and Melvin joined Vasquez and Mears at the strange pile on the ground.

  “What the hell is that?” Fisher asked.

  The group stared at an unknown pile of something they believed was once alive.

  “I think it’s some kind of animal,” Melvin offered as an explanation.

  The unknown pile was a heap of glistening blood, flesh, and pulverized bone.

  Fisher turned her head and gagged.

  “Oh my God,” Melvin said as he closer studied the pile. “I think this was Cain.”

  “What the hell makes you think that?” asked Wilder.

  “Look right there,” Melvin said as he poked the pile of gore with the barrel of his carbine. “That looks like Cain’s tattoo.”

  Wilder and Butsko leaned down for a better look. Underneath the fresh blood and pieces of flesh and bone was the unmistakable tattoo of the seal of Colorado. Butsko saw the “eye of God” triangle and underneath it the Roman fasces, followed by the three snowcapped mountains, and the axe pick and sledge hammer.

  Cain had been born and raised in Colorado and took great pride in his home state.

  The pile of gore at their feet was indeed Cain.

  “What the fuck could’ve done this to Cain?” cried Fisher.

  Butsko realized this was the location where he felt he was being watched not too long ago.

  This was also the spot where he thought he’d seen those yellow eyes.

  “The others need help!” shouted Butsko as he broke the silence.

  Mears ran over to the Growler, grabbed the last ammo box for the gun, reloaded the fifty-calibre machine gun, and strapped it over his shoulder.

  “Let’s go, Vasquez!” Mears shouted as he ran down the hallway.

  The two soldiers ran toward the gunshots.

  “What the fuck could’ve done this?” Butsko said out loud to no one in particular.

  *****

  Mane, Steele, and Megan kept their tight “V” formation as they quickly made their way down the hallway. Mane was reluctant to enter the kitchen. Kitchens were tight spaces full of equipment. It was an ambush waiting to happen.

  “The kitchen doors are straight ahead,” Mane said to others as he put his fist in the air and signaled for Megan and Steele to stop moving.

  There were two doors in front of them. One door was set off to the right and led into the kitchen. The other veered to the left and took them to what Mane assumed was the dining room.

  “I think we should head into the dining room,” Mane said. “There’s open space and less chance of getting trapped out there than in the kitchen.”

  Megan and Steele agreed, and the three headed to the dining room door.

  A small square window was their only view into the dining room, and Mane glanced through to see if the room was overrun.

  In the middle of the large dining room was a zombie huddled over a body. The moving figure looked like a wild animal as it clawed and tore at the creature beneath it.

  Mane couldn’t get a good look at the body that was being ripped apart.

  “It looks like there’s only one zombie in there,” Mane reported to the others.

  “How is that possible?” Steele asked. “Those fuckers were everywhere just minutes ago.”

  “You two stay here,” said Mane as he thought about what Steele had pointed out. “I’ll take care of this one.”

  Mane slowly opened the door to the dining room. Mane was a big guy, but when the time came for it, he could be as quiet as a rabbit surrounded by wolves.

  Mane looked all around the room and made sure that no zombies waited in there to surprise him. He kept his Beretta pistol at arms-length, fixed on the creature.

  Steele and Megan looked on from the doorway and made sure nothing crept up behind Mane.

  The zombie on the ground shifted to the left and gave them a good look at the body it was tearing apart. They could clearly see the face and didn’t recognize it as one of the group.

  Mane stopped about ten feet from the zombie. He began to squeeze his finger on the trigger when the zombie stopped tearing apart the body and turned its head around.

  The sudden movement of the creature didn’t shock Mane, but what he saw as the zombie turned around did. Staring at him was something new; something he hadn’t seen before. This monster had bright, almost glowing eyes and looked different from the others. This creature had no wounds on its body, and it almost looked human. Almost.

  Except the eyes. Those feral, yellow eyes gave it away.

  Mane hesitated for a second as he studied the zombie in front of him, but that was all the monster needed.

  The creature leapt off the ground and charged after the stunned soldier. Mane fired three nine-calibre rounds into the creature’s chest, and the bastard didn’t so much as slow down.

  Mane’s eyes grew wide as the zombie ran into him. The force of the impact lifted Mane off his feet as the two fell to the ground.

  The air was knocked out of Mane as his back slammed against the hard wood floor. Mane’s weapon slid across the floor.

  Steele and Megan saw what happened and ran toward Mane.

  The creature sat on Mane’s chest and watched the two humans approach it. Without taking its yellow eyes off the approaching figures, the monster swiped its hand across Mane and tore out his throat.

  “No!” shouted Steele.

  The monster sat on Mane’s chest and watched the two figures approach. When they were about five feet away, the zombie stood and ran off with such speed that it left the approaching humans even more confused.

  “What the fuck was that thing?” Megan shouted. “What was wrong with its eyes?”

  The creature ran toward the far side of the dining room. The door that led out to the foyer crashed open, and Steele and Megan saw Mears walk in with a machine gun slung over his shoulder.

  “Over there,” Steele said as he pointed to the zombie running away.

  Mears aimed the fifty-calibre weapon toward the creature and fired.

  Four bullets ripped through the creature’s back, but didn’t so much as slow it down. Before the thing ran around the corner, it stopped and looked at Mears.

  Vasquez ran into the dining room and immediately fired off three shots at the zombie. The bullets missed as they slammed into the wall next to the creature.

  The yellow-eyed zombie disappeared around the corner, and the others ran over to Mane’s dead body.

  “What the fuck just happened?” Vazquez asked.

  Megan ran to the corner and threw up w
hen she saw Mane’s body. Not only had the creature torn out Mane’s throat, it also opened up his femoral artery and gutted him.

  “How is this possible?” Steele asked no one in particular. “That bastard was only on Mane for a few seconds.”

  “Come on you two,” Mears said to Megan and Steele. “Let’s go join the others. Something weird is happening here, and I think we’re better off in a group.”

  Megan wiped her mouth and walked past Mane’s body.

  Steele put his arm around her shoulder and tried to turn her head away from the sight of their fallen friend.

  “Wait a minute,” said Megan as she looked at Mane’s body.

  “Come on, Megan,” Vasquez ordered. “You don’t need to look at him.”

  “No,” Megan insisted. “Look at Mane’s body.”

  “What about it?” asked Vasquez.

  “It's not happening,” Megan said.

  “You’re right,” said Steele in a somber tone. “He’s not reanimating.”

  The others stood there for a few seconds and stared at Mane’s lifeless body.

  “Like I said,” Mears said as he broke the silence, “something weird is going on here. Come on, we need to get back to the others.”

  7

  Abandoned Gas Station

  Spicewood, Texas

  The reunion inside the gas station was short lived as Darren related to David, Joe, and Samantha what he’d witnessed outside.

  “Wait a minute,” Joe said as he tried to back the story up. “You injected a creature with a needle full of an antipsychotic drug, and within seconds the bastard fell to the ground in a seizure, unable to move?”

  “That’s exactly what happened,” said Walt as he paced around the room excitedly. “My theory worked.”

  “Maybe this was just luck,” David added. “How do we know it’ll work on all those fuckers?”

  “I wondered about that too, David,” Walt answered. “But when I saw Jonas’ reanimated body rifling through the drug cabinets in the pharmacy, I realized that these creatures retain a certain amount of their memories after they reanimated.”

  Walt looked at everyone’s face and knew he’d lost them.

  “Let’s back up a second,” Walt said.

  “Yes, please,” Darren said as he smiled.

  “Do you all remember our talk in the basement about the role dopamine plays in addiction?” Walt asked everyone.

  The others nodded.

  “Dopamine has been linked to increased muscular or motor activity, and increased dopamine levels have also been linked to huge increases of impulsive behavior.”

  “We’re with ya,” Joe said.

  “In an exaggerated sense,” continued Walt, “high levels of dopamine can also be linked to the elimination of free will. I know that’s a dramatic thing to say, but hear me out.”

  Walt paced back and forth and swung Stevie around as he explained his point.

  “Remember that dopamine can release behaviors from inhibition,” Walt explained.

  “And if I remember correctly,” Darren said, “higher dopamine levels can create similar or repeated reactions of behaviors to similar situations. Right?”

  “Exactly,” said Walt. “Dopamine can create repeated responses to similar situations, and if we take this to its dramatic conclusion, we can say that free will is thereby eliminated in the face of increased dopamine.”

  “That’s why addicts seem like they’re out of control and don’t have a choice, right?” asked Joe.

  “Exactly,” Walt answered. “Once the addiction takes over, the addict has lost control and will always choose that behavior, which results in feeding their addiction. They are satisfying that reward signal the dopamine has triggered.”

  “I still don’t see the connection with the infected,” David admitted.

  “This is where I venture into uncharted waters,” Walt said as he looked at David. “It seems as though the infection is somehow reactivating the central nervous system as it reanimates the dead. So that’s pretty solid proof that the infection can manipulate the human brain.”

  The others nodded their agreement.

  “And because of Darren’s information,” said Walt as he pointed at Darren, “we know the infection is actually cutting-edge bio-nanotechnology. So what if, and I stress ‘what if,’ after they reanimate the body, the nanites then manipulate the dopamine levels in the brain to increase motor activity to control aggression and eliminate the free will of the host body?”

  No one had an answer.

  “What if the nanites purposely triggered the ‘addiction switch’ and created a compulsive reward-seeking state in the host?” asked Walt rhetorically.

  “So the infected are actually addicted to killing others?” Cheryl asked.

  “In a way, yes,” Walt answered. “The reanimated bodies are addicted to biting, infecting, and eating other non-infected people.”

  “That actually makes sense,” Samantha said. “Look at your average junkie. They’d pass by a table full of food prepared by a five-star chef in order to get their hands on a dirty needle.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” Walt said. “Any old food won’t do for the infected. The ‘food’ has to be non-infected human beings. The infection compels the host to infect as many as it can, thereby propagating their existence. When it does, I’m guessing it is rewarded with dopamine.”

  “And we all know that there’s no ceiling of tolerance for a junkie,” added Joe. “The dopamine levels keep increasing and drive the host to infect more and more people. The more it infects, the more dopamine is released, and the more agile, aggressive, and stronger it gets.”

  “The more a zombie infects others,” echoed Samantha, “the greater the satisfaction and the reward is for the creature.”

  The gas station fell silent.

  “So I’m not getting the connection with the antipsychotic drugs and why they affected that zombie that way,” said Darren as he broke the silence.

  “Darren,” said Walt as he looked at the man. “You mentioned your brother was an addict. Did he ever try and get clean?”

  “He did,” Darren said. “He was in horrible pain.”

  “When addicts detox,” explained Walt, “a lot of chemical processes are going on in the body. One of the main things is the sudden and dramatic decrease of dopamine.”

  “Dopamine levels decrease,” added Joe, “because the addiction is no longer being fed, and the addict is no longer receiving those rewards.”

  “I suspect,” said Walt, “the same thing happens to the infected if they stop feeding or infecting. They become wracked with pain.”

  “But the drugs,” Darren started to say.

  “Research made a connection between people with schizophrenia and various forms of psychoses and increased levels of dopamine,” Walt said. “Antipsychotic drugs work by lowering dopamine levels. By giving that zombie a high dose of antipsychotic drugs, it immediately lowered and shut down its level of dopamine, as well as all the side effects that accompany it… like its mobility.”

  “Holy shit, Walt,” Samantha said, “that’s pretty damn amazing.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s not a cure,” Walt added. “It’s only a weapon. And we don’t have that much of the stuff.”

  “Hey,” Darren said, “this is one more weapon we didn’t have a day ago.”

  “This is cool and all,” David said, “but we need to figure out our next move. Right now we’re inside an abandoned gas station that, luckily, had some bottled water and stale food in it. But our situation still looks pretty grim.”

  “Worry not,” Cheryl said as she stood and walked over to Walt. “Our fearless leader here has also planned out our next move.”

  The others looked at Walt.

  “Do share,” Darren said. “I’m gotta admit that I’m at a loss of where we go from here.”

  Walt took a big gulp of warm water from a bottle he’d grabbed from the broken cooler and smiled.
r />   “Does anyone feel like going swimming?” Walt asked with a smile.

  Chapter Seven

  1

  Lago Vista Golf Club

  Lago Vista, Texas

  Mears finished telling Butsko and Wilder about the odd experience they’d encountered back in the pro-shop.

  Steele, Melvin, and Megan walked around the foyer and crushed the heads of any zombie still moving around. The silence of the night was shattered with the occasional grunt followed by the sound of a wet pop as another skull was pulverized.

  Vasquez and Fisher stood watch over the hole in the entrance Melvin had made with the Growler.

  “Wait a second,” Butsko said as he interrupted Mears. “You said they had yellow eyes?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Mears said.

  “After the main attack here in the foyer, and after Melvin saved our asses,” Butsko said, “I could’ve sworn I felt something watching us from over there.” Butsko pointed toward the back of the foyer where the entrance to the dining room was.

  “Isn’t that where we found Cain, Sir?” Mears asked.

  “Yeah, it is,” said Butsko as his mind raced to try and come up with the connection.

  “That can’t be a coincidence,” Wilder pointed out. “We didn’t fight one yellow-eyed creature in the foyer, and now you both said you saw some.”

  “What the hell are they?” Butsko asked.

  “I don’t know, Sir, but they are faster, smarter, and deadlier than these fuckers,” said Mears as he looked around at the dead creatures on the floor.

  “That bastard wasn’t on Mane for more than ten-seconds before it ripped out his throat, sliced opened his femoral artery, and gutted him,” Mears explained.

  “What concerns me,” Wilder said, “is that the infected seem to be scared of these new yellow-eyed players.”

  “Agreed,” Butsko added. “I bet those yellow-eyed things are the cause of that pile of flesh and gore down by the lake we found earlier.”

  “They are probably why we weren’t bothered by any infected for that period of time,” Mears said. “The yellow-eyed creatures scared away the regular infected.”

  “Which means they watched us,” Butsko added. “They watched and studied us.”