by Paul Hetzer
A plague I call the Zombie Virus.
The Zombie Virus didn’t create a human zombie in the classical sense, even though the infected sure as hell acted like those fokelorish creatures. More appropriately, it was the virus that returned from the dead.
It seemed to have started almost immediately following the passage of Earth through Hosteller’s tail after an incubation period that appeared to be a few hours at best. The replication rate for this virus was phenomenal, unprecedented in viral research, but then again so were many of the attributes for the infection. On the positive side, some of the world’s population must have had a genetically mutated version of the Zombie Virus RNA, and it never replicated in our bodies or we had some other natural immunity to this infection. Otherwise I wouldn’t be telling you this story now.
I was back in the labs very early the next morning. I had to re-secure Sung’s bindings by wrapping surgical tape around his wrists. His struggles had bent the metal hasps of his straps and were working them loose. Sung was correct about one thing, in their present state they were very strong. My guess was that the adrenal gland was affected and pumping out bursts of adrenaline at the slightest stimulus.
I had the room’s lights set to dim every night to simulate normal day-night cycles. The infected individuals would fall into a restless sleep every evening after the lights dimmed and not wake up until the lights came back up to full brightness the next day. I knew, outside of the Facility, that this observation would be worth as much if not more than my viral research to our survival.
By that evening I had isolated the small bullet shaped particles of RNA, confirming the virus theory and the family in which it belonged. It was surprisingly a lyssavirus, closely related to that of the rabies lyssavirus which voraciously attacks a victim’s central nervous system. These are one of the few viruses that can cause illness in humans and are also good at evading our immune system. Without a concerted immune response our bodies have difficulty combating it. It would be another day before I confirmed that its DNA sequence matched a section found in the human genome.
I named the awakened infected, “Loonies”, my dry attempt at humor in this humorless time. When those infected with the zombie virus awakened, they were no longer what they were. They had lost what made them human.
Later that evening I performed a crude autopsy on the brain of the girl who bled to death.
There was massive inflammation and tissue death throughout the brain. It appeared that the virus traveled along the nerve pathways to the central nervous system, where it quickly replicated and spread throughout the brain. The virus then voraciously attacked most of the brain and when it was done, all that was left functioning was parts of what some call the limbic system, which controls our base instincts.
The Zombie virus destroyed our reasoning, communication, and memory centers leaving us a literal eating, sleeping, killing, virus production facility. This was the perfect virus – it infected without killing its host, leaving them alive to produce more virus and find new hosts.
The infected, the Loonies, seemed to be driven by some rabid animalistic urge that made them attack and bite and sometimes feed on those that were not infected. My guess was that the sugary smell that emanated from their bodies was one of the means in which they differentiated each other from the non-infected.
I was taking additional samples from the Loonies every few hours, hoping that they would show a drop off of the virus population over time. So far the levels were sustaining. That second night as I was working in my lab, I heard a crash and a chorus of growls and snarls coming over the monitor displaying the isolation ward. I looked up to see that Sung had broken free from his wrist straps and was hanging half off the bed, only held by his ankles. He broke free of first one then the other binding and rampaged around the ward, ignoring the other Loonies.
There would be no more sampling from my patients.
After a few minutes the Loony that had been Sung was at the airlock door. The airlock had a keypad lock with a large handle that must be lifted once the correct combo was keyed in to open the inner airlock door. He looked through the thick glass window above the lock into the room beyond, contemplating how to get out. He reached down to the thick sealed door’s handle and yanked it toward him, then up and down. I held my breath for a moment, and then realized his spastic attempts were nothing more than muscle memory, he had no reasoning skills left to figure out how to open even a simple door.
After a few seconds he gave up and moved on around the room, occasionally tossing to the floor anything that was in his way. I thought about emergency decontaminating the room. The gaseous formaldehyde would kill the virus along with any other living organisms in there. I decided against it. I could learn more observing the three remaining living Loonies for as long as possible.
The third day I discovered that rats were susceptible to the virus. They also rapidly developed symptoms with a very short incubation period, except in their case the disease was terminal. I was able to use them in an experiment on transmittance.
It looked like the virus didn’t survive for long outside of the host and while present in the various human body fluids, it quickly died off. It was not aerosol transmissible after a short period. You couldn’t get it from breathing the same air as a Loony unless that infected person sneezed or coughed. In other words, a person had to be bitten or have a Loony’s fresh body fluid enter a cut or mucus membrane area to become infected.
I also administered immunoglobulins, or what most know as antibodies, that were specific for the rabies lyssavirus to the rats. I then infected them with the Zombie Virus hoping that it was similar enough to rabies that the antibodies would bind to it and prevent it from infecting the host’s cells.
For a virus to enter a cell, it requires specific receptor proteins on the host cell that it can bind to which allow it to be endocytosed into the cellular interior. Think of it like a simple children’s picture puzzle: each puzzle piece is cut to fit only with the piece it is to be mated to. The protein sheath of a virus is basically the same way. It can only mate with a specific host cell if the way that its protein is folded fits perfectly with the folded protein of the receptor on the host cell.
Once the virus binds to the host cell in what would look like a pit on an electron micrograph, the viral package is carried through the cell’s plasma membrane by a process called endocytosis. This is basically a method in which cells absorb large molecules by engulfing them in a membrane capsule and releasing them into their interior.
Replication for viruses occur in the cytoplasm of host cells which then act as a virus “factory” transcribing the viruses’ RNA and building new viral packages. Then at a certain critical population they lyse the cell and spread the infection.
The afternoon of the fourth day the power flickered briefly in the lab and I heard the deep rumble from somewhere overhead as the Facility’s emergency generators kicked on. This got the Sung Loony moving again, constantly pacing back and forth in his soiled boxers like a caged beast.
Thirst and hunger had to be gnawing at their bellies. The Hanson Loony was in terrible shape, her arm had gone gangrenous from the lost blood flow and she could barely lift her head. The third Loony still struggled occasionally, but seemed resigned to its captivity.
The two bodies were showing signs of decomposition. The odor in the lab had to be overpowering with the smell of shit, piss, blood, rotting flesh and the sickly sweet smell from the infected filling the air. I wondered if the room’s filtration system was keeping up with each added odiferous flavor.
Given several uninterrupted weeks, I was sure I could develop specific antibodies for this virus from the test animals and prevent systemic expression in its hosts. I was also close to developing a method for the rapid diagnosis of the zombie virus in rats prior to the onset of the prodromal phase. It would be good to check people who were carriers and not symptomatic, or those bitten who were asymptomatic.
When I reached a s
topping point with some of the infected cells I was culturing I took a break and left the lab complex for my office so that I could call my wife. This was the day I promised her that I would finish up here at the lab and make my way home. I didn’t feel like I was at a point where I could just stop my work. I was so close on several fronts. Whether I kept my word and left or stayed and continued working on this disease hinged on what was going on at the home front, and whether Holly would understand the need to stay another day or two.
I picked up my phone to dial my home number. There was no connection, the external line was dead. I would have to try cell phone to cell and for that I had to go topside. It would be the first time since this began. My watch told me it was closing in on 1730 hours, still plenty of daylight left.
I picked up the phone again, pressed the button for the direct line to the security kiosk far overhead and heard the line connect. At least the internal lines were still working. I gave the connection about thirty seconds waiting for someone to pick up, no one did. I tried a few more of the ground floor offices with no luck. The Facility seemed deserted.
I got up and headed for the elevators. I had nothing to use for a weapon except a handheld fire extinguisher that I planned on grabbing from outside the elevator on Level 1. Located at the security kiosk was an array of monitors that were connected to external cameras with which I could at least gain an idea of what I would be up against outside.
I briefly thought about wearing the spacesuit to the surface in case there were any Loonies up there, such as the guard who was on duty when I came in. After four days I expected he would be long gone. Mobility was quite restricted with the suit on. If I had to make a quick escape, I felt I would be safer in my street clothes than the bulky suit. I also knew it would feel good to be out of the spacesuit for an extended period. It had begun to feel like my own personal prison from which I would never escape.
The elevators were still operating and I took one up to the ground floor. It dumped me out down the hall and out of sight of the security kiosk. After grabbing the extinguisher I tried to quietly make my way to the desk where the Marine security detachment usually sat near the entrance.
We had a staff of ten Marines who rotated duty with two on at any one time. They were always armed when on duty and treated this facility as they would one containing a nuclear arsenal.
I peered cautiously around the corner of the hallway – there was no one at the kiosk. On Tuesday morning when I came in, Corporal Ronny Vickers had been on duty. I hadn’t seen any of the other members of the security team. Later, when LTC Hanson had come up to retrieve the infected personnel, she should have insisted that Ronny come down to the isolation ward to be evaluated. Now he was an unknown factor.
I hoped that he had left to be with his family when things started to obviously fall apart. Since the first day I had never been back to this level and our security personnel did not have the clearance to any of the sublevels without an escort, so our paths never crossed again.
I carefully made my way over to the kiosk, casting a wary eye around me as I moved. There were no windows to the outside on this level, only a steel pneumatic door that took a security code to open. The overhead fluorescent lights lit the room brightly and everything seemed normal. Except for the absent guard you would never know there was anything wrong in the world.
That was until I got to the kiosk and saw the dried pink tinged smears around the security desk.
My blood turned cold and I glanced around nervously. Nothing else seemed out of place. There were two hallways off the atrium that the security kiosk was centered in – one went to the elevator bank and the other to the administrative offices. I knew the hallway with the elevator banks was clear. That left one other.
I walked cautiously to the entrance that led down the other hallway, holding the extinguisher in front of me like a club and peered around the corner, looking directly into the bloodshot eyes of the Loony that had been Corporal Ronnie Vickers. He stood about ten feet down the brilliantly lit hallway leaning against the wall with his shoulders slumped and arms at his side. He must have been dehydrated, for only frothy foam was visible about his mouth.
As soon as we made eye contact he snarled and lunged toward me with a surprising burst of speed. The growling creature reached for me and I instinctively swung the extinguisher in a wide arc into the side of his skull. It hit with a thunk, sending the Loony crashing to the white linoleum floor. He immediately jumped back to his feet with a vicious snarl although not before I was able to scramble backwards out of his reach.
He came at me again but I was ready for him this time and slammed the metal cylinder into his forehead. The man stumbled backwards, blood pouring out of the gash I had opened up on his broad forehead, staining the front of his uniform a bright crimson. He caught his balance and came at me again, his mouth snapping. I swung the cylinder as hard as I could into the side of his skull and felt the bone cave in. He dropped hard to the floor letting out a screech of pain.
The creature continued snapping at me with its teeth, snarling weakly as it tried to pull itself along the floor and reached for me. Blood poured heavily from its ruptured head. When its grasping hand closed around my ankle I raised the cylinder and brought it down with crushing force, caving in the skull, splattering blood and gray brain matter about the floor. The Loony stopped moving.
I dropped the cylinder and rushed to the men’s room where I vigorously washed the virus laden blood splatters from my arms and face. I then vomited into the sink. I had never had to take a human life before. That was not who I was, I was not a battlefield soldier. I was a scientist.
I splashed cold water over my face and tried to calm my breathing. I stared at the face looking back at me in the mirror. I was as haggard and tired looking as I felt. I realized that once I left the Facility I wouldn’t be wearing the hat of the scientist any longer. Out in that new terrifying world I was going to have to be husband and father, protector and provider. I wasn’t sure I could do that. I knew I wouldn’t be able to avoid taking more lives like I had just done, not without endangering my family. Could I man up and do that or, like now, was I going to be incapacitated with the shock and horror of my actions?
I tried to console myself that that dead man out in the hallway was no longer human, that the Loonies were nothing more than rabid dogs that should be put down with extreme prejudice. If not, they would continue to kill and infect those of us who were survivors of this plague. I prayed that I could continue to do this for the sake of Holly and Jeremy.
I took a deep breath and went back out to the body of the Marine security guard. I removed his holster and gun, a 9mm Beretta M9. The magazine carried fifteen rounds plus the one in the chamber. I grabbed the two magazine holders off of his belt that held another fifteen round magazine each. Forty-six rounds, not a lot for what I expected to face.
I found a pocket knife clipped to his BDUs and recognized it as a Gerber ‘Answer’ assisted opening knife. I pocketed it, hoping to never again be close enough to one of the infected to have to use it. I checked around the security kiosk for more ammo but there was nothing. Usually one of the guards carried a rifle, although if Ronny had one it was not where I could find it.
I was armed now, which raised my chances appreciably. I sat down at the kiosk and carefully scanned the security monitors overlooking the perimeter of the Facility, including the parking lot.
The lot was mostly empty except for maybe a dozen cars scattered here and there. My car sat off in a corner by itself. I couldn’t see any sign of life in the lot. Then I caught movement out on the road. Three Loonies were aimlessly walking in the street, going nowhere. They acted like they were unaware of each other.
I could hear the generator rumbling nearby. It reminded me that my time at this place was limited. Once the generators quit a battery bank would supply enough power to do a lock and sterilize. Anyone or anything caught below in the labs would be terminated. It was time to leave the Facilit
y.
I had been surviving on vending machine food, which was nearly gone, and the generator only had forty-eight hours’ worth of fuel, not enough time to accomplish any more major tasks in my lab. I missed my family. I had been away from them too long already.
Millions of people lived within fifty miles of our home, most of whom would now be infected or dead. This meant that home couldn’t be my final destination. I would stay there long enough to gather my family and supplies and then move on. If not, at some point we would be overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the infected.
We owned a small, isolated farm high in the mountains of southwestern Virginia that we used as a weekend getaway. The population density there was low enough that we could hopefully defend it indefinitely against these mindless animals. If we could get there.
I conceded that it was time to go home and get my family. At some point, I told myself, when things had settled down, I could come back and finish my work. The lab would still be here. I could bring in diesel for the generators. That had to be my goal after securing my family. How long could the Loonies survive? Maybe a year or two. Probably not even through their first winter.
I had left my cell phone in the car. If I was going to make a dash for the car with the Loonies wandering around out there, I needed to secure the lab first and gather my notebooks. I wasn’t planning on returning any time soon. It was sad to think that all of my work may have been in vain. That there may not be enough people left in this world to save. I had to concentrate on my family now, keeping them safe and alive. Whatever that took.
I also had to take care of the Loonies in the isolation ward.
Back down in Level 6 I was horrified to see that Sung was feeding on LTC Hanson’s body. Her neck had been torn open and she had bled out. Sung was still at her side, thirstily lapping up the blood pooled in the bed about her.
