Salby Damned

by Ian D. Moore

  “Where can I find the chief medical officer, and could you show us to the lab facilities, please?” Charles said, stressing the urgency; he needed to start work.

  By now, the sun had begun to set at the wellhead site, which meant that fading light would slow the operation. However, with such limited military support, it would have been unsafe to enter the wellhead now. There were victims who had been found at the scene, and they were currently being kept on ice in a quick-build white tent, powered by a huge army-green generator; there was enough to do, of that Charles was sure.

  “Certainly, Sir, apologies, I was not aware of your military rank,” the captain replied, “if you’ll permit me first to arrange ID Passes for you and your party. You’ll need to log in and out periodically so that we’re aware of your status. It’s a security measure, that’s all. This way, please.”

  They were steered towards another temporarily erected building, now serving as a central command post for the site. After due procedures and the issuing of access passes for each of Charles’s team, they were allocated accommodation quarters—basically a communal washing area and a fold-up bed.

  The captain addressed Charles’s team at their accommodation.

  “You’ll be briefed on meal timings and the location of mess and toilet facilities in good time. For now, I would like to introduce you to Lieutenant Colonel Richard Connell, the Commanding Officer on site.”

  Turning to face the lieutenant colonel, the captain straightened, before offering a regimented salute, awaiting the response before lowering his arm.

  “Thank you, Captain, that’ll be all for now,” said the lieutenant colonel, returning the salute as the captain left to continue his duties.

  Lieutenant Colonel Connell beamed a welcoming smile, offering his hand to each of the team in turn.

  “Charles, it’s damn good to see you, old friend, thanks for coming so soon. I wish it could have been under better circumstances. It has been far too long. It’s pretty bad by all accounts. Who do we have here?” the lieutenant colonel asked, in the kind of voice that exuded authority.

  Charles and Richard had studied together a lifetime ago, and as their careers had changed, they had come into contact less and less. Nonetheless, Richard was a trusted friend and colleague, and had been briefed to the same top-secret level as Charles. Introducing the team, Charles asked that they be briefed on the current operational situation at the wellhead, along with any data gathered since Richard had arrived. Without hesitating for a moment, Richard addressed the group.

  “Doctors, let’s bring you up to speed. I’ll take questions at the end if you’ll follow me to the briefing room. Time is of the essence.”

  With all eyes fixed upon him, Richard led the way.

  “Sit, sit,” he said to the group before continuing, “Right, Charles, umm, Dr. Fitzgerald, briefed you on the flight, I understand. You are all aware that we suspect a strain of the Saliva Activated Live Blood type Y virus has been accidentally released into the air. Now listen carefully. The information I have on this is very limited at this time, but I will share what we know so far.

  The virus becomes inert after three hours in outside conditions. However, before that, it is highly effective at entering the human body by inhalation, saliva, or blood. The virus infects the base part of our brains; it forces anyone infected to kill anything they find alive. Most of the infected will have been bitten, and it takes less than a minute from infection for the unfortunate victim to be reduced to a child-like state, with that one sole goal. Right, let’s get suited and booted, and let’s get to work, if there are no immediate questions?”

  He glanced at the seated doctors, who offered only shaking heads, keen to make a start.

  “Very well, my team will offer any help you should need. I suggest you split up; two take the wellhead and one take one of the victims we have on ice. Oh, and Dr. Fitzgerald? A word in private if I may?” He waved his hand enigmatically towards the door to get them moving.

  *******

  Plans

  At the farmhouse, the usually peaceful coming of the morning was about to be shattered.

  Nathan’s eyes snapped open as a noise from the ceiling woke him. Something or someone was moving about, drawers and cupboards opening too. He gently placed his hand over Evie’s mouth, seeing the fear in her eyes as she stared at him, having been woken from her sleep. He raised his forefinger to his pursed lips

  “Shhhhhhh!”

  She nodded that she understood, and he pointed to the ceiling before sliding almost naked from the bed to his rifle. The rifle was quieter to load than the Remington, and as he carefully pulled back the bolt, he pushed a round into the chamber. Evie came up beside him, passing him his jeans.

  When she moved for the shotgun, he mouthed, “Don’t load yet.”

  Nathan didn’t want to give away their position to whomever or whatever had entered his home. He passed Evie his rifle while he hastily pulled on his jeans. Holding his breath, he listened intently to the shuffling and thumping across the floor. The sounds reverberated from above; voices, high-pitched, as if from someone in pain, at first loud then barely a whisper could also be heard, identifying at least two people there.

  Nathan waited for the movement to stop, hoping that whoever was there had gone into another room. Taking his chance, he pulled the bolts to the door, throwing it wide and aiming the rifle. What he had in his sights surprised him.

  “It’s okay, you gotta come see this,” he said, calling down to Evie and lowering the rifle.

  Two small children sat at the table eating dry cereals. The boy was maybe seven years old, and the girl looked at least a couple of years younger. Both were now crying in fear at the sight of Nathan and the rifle as Evie came into view behind him.

  “It’s okay, it’s alright, we’re not going to hurt you,” she said, in a soft motherly voice, hoping it might calm them. Looking back at the two adults, the children bowed their heads.

  “We, we were hungry,” sniffed the boy, “you’re not going to shoot us, are you?”

  The boy’s eyes fixed on the rifle in Nathan’s arms. Nathan smiled before placing the rifle inside the cellar door, out of sight of the children. Evie approached them and joined the children at the table.

  “Dry cereals, huh? You really are hungry, aren’t you? Do you have names?”

  Confidence returned rapidly and the little lad piped up.

  “I’m Tom and this is my sister.” He smiled proudly at the announcement adding, “Oh! Her name’s Holly!”

  Both children were smiling now, realising that the two grown-ups were friendly but had no reason to know who they were.

  “Well now, my name is Evelyn, but you can call me Evie, this here is Nathan. How did you get in Tom? Can you remember?” she asked the boy.

  “Oh sure,” he said, pointing at the chimney, “we climbed down there, just like Santa does!”

  The boy was clearly proud of their achievement, and it was clear that what he had said was true; both had skinned knees, scratched elbows, and were covered in dirt from the chimney. There was also a trail of sooty footprints across the kitchen floor.

  “That was a very brave thing to do, but how on Earth did you manage to climb up onto the roof to begin with?”

  “Oh, that was easy. We climbed the drainpipes to do that and then walked across, and Holly didn’t even cry,” he said.

  “Do you have any more food, please and, and maybe some pop? I’m thirsty.” Evie sat next to them to make them feel at ease.

  “I’ll tell you what we’ll do. First, I’m going to take a look at the bumps and scratches you each have, see if we can make them all better, then we’ll see about getting you a little cleaner before breakfast. What do you say?”

  She looked at each small, dishevelled body in turn, as they smiled and nodded approval. While Evie checked the children over and patched up the scrapes and cuts, Nathan finished dressing and then checked the house for any other signs of entry. Satisfied that
there had been none, he took the rifle from the cellar, making sure to keep it as much out of sight of the children as possible.

  ***

  He headed for the back door, flicking the power breaker switch back on in the hallway, to crank up the generator and restore mains power to the house. As he closed the door and turned, he remembered the huge deadhead face down in the yard, still clutching the apple; only it wasn’t an apple, he thought. Walking closer, he could see that it was the remains of a mutilated heart; he couldn’t be sure what it had come from, but he was certain that it wasn’t a human heart.

  Nathan thought about the effect the body would have on the young arrivals, and he managed to find an old tarpaulin to cover it over; the other two were far enough away in the brush-land at the edge of the trees to be out of sight. Reaching the outhouse, he peered around the corner with the rifle at the ready; he didn’t want any nasty surprises today, especially with children to look out for now.

  He flicked the switches. Sure enough, the old generator spluttered before chugging into life. It would be easier to cook food for all of them with the power on, and since his next plan was to pack up and head for the nearest base, it was worth the risk. After sweeping the surrounding trees with the rifle’s scope, this time utilising the flip over bracket and, moving the Gnome IR out of the way to allow vision through the main day scope, he circled the main house and yard areas, moving quietly to the front. He checked the Suzi for damage; the deadhead male had attacked the Jeep at the wellhead with some force, he noted.

  No serious harm though, nothing that would stop it driving though it would need body filler and a respray when this was over.

  ***

  Back at the house, Evie coaxed some information from the children, keeping it light-hearted and informal so as not to worry them. Having reached agreement that soft boiled dippy egg with toast soldiers and some “sketty hoops” would be good to eat, she began to prepare food for them, along with something for Nathan and herself. After yesterday’s events, a cuppa and some replacement protein were what was needed. Nathan could smell the toast as he came to the door.

  It smelled so good.

  Their eyes met as Nathan entered, and he gave Evie a knowing smile that she returned with gusto.

  The kids were silent, mostly because they were demolishing a pile of eggs, beans, spaghetti hoops, and toast, along with beakers full of orange pop.

  “Are you two alright?” Nathan said, smiling at their full mouths and stuffed cheeks. Two nods confirmed that they were as Nathan took a plate of scrambled eggs on toast, handed over by a still smiling Evie.

  “Thanks, honey,” Nathan said, with a cheeky wink, “I think we should head for the nearest military base. We’ll be safer there, especially with the little people now. What do you think?”

  Evie stood at the kitchen counter eating her own breakfast.

  “I think that would be best. The kids think they were heading to such a base with their mum but were overcome by ‘bad people with funny eyes,’ as Holly called them. Evie continued.

  “The kids had hidden inside a car after their mum had tried to protect them by shutting them in a cupboard, inside a shopping centre. When they came out, they’d lost sight of her and, after many hours, made a break for it across lots of fields, playing hide and go seek with the bad people,” Evie finished.

  “You did well to get them to talk. I’ll go load up the Jeep. I think we should head north to Dishforth Airfield as it’s a main MOD base. We can go cross-country in the Suzi as far as possible as the roads will be full of abandoned cars and wreckage. You ready to roll?”

  “I’m good to go. I’ll get the children ready to move, and we’ll take what supplies we have left. Although it’s not too far, it’ll help keep their minds off the journey,” Evie added.

  She moved in close to him, needing some contact as if knowing what they were about to do was a dangerous but necessary step. Nathan wrapped his arms around her as he looked into her face, with no need for words. He kissed her mouth, lingering softly until an “Uuuuurgh!” from the kids, followed by giggles interrupted their moment.

  ***

  He took both laptops and the various files and folders from the cellar. Nathan grabbed the shotgun, wrapping it up in the maps to hide it from young eyes, before he began to load up the back of the Jeep. The youngsters, looking a little cleaner now, with colour to their faces and the odd plaster-covered graze, were in good spirits. Some food and drink had made them feel better. Evie handed Nathan a plastic bag full of whatever had been left to eat: crisps, biscuits, a couple of tins of beans, and cartons of juice. Nathan had never kept much in the house as his work kept him away from home a lot of the time.

  It isn’t every day that your world gets taken over by zombies, now is it?

  He picked up the box of shotgun shells, dropping them into the bag with the food.

  “Right then, let’s be off,” Nathan announced as he stood by the door. Holly looked at him with a quizzical expression.

  “Are we going to get Mommy?” she asked, cheerily.

  Evie took her hand, guiding her to the door, followed by Tom who was still munching on some cold toast that he’d grabbed from the table.

  “Hopefully, your mum will be waiting for you when we get to the base. I’m sure she’ll be pleased to see you Holly, and not forgetting Tom too.”

  Evie looked over her shoulder, a subtle but effective gesture to hurry Tom along.

  Evie was sure that the children’s mother would be dead or, worse, infected–now was not the time to try to tell them.

  “Have we forgotten anyone? Let’s see, we’ve a Tom … Check! A Holly … errrr, Check! An Evie … Check! Anyone else?” His question made the children giggle and shout simultaneously.

  “You!”

  “Ah yes!” Nathan said, laughing with them.

  “Now then, let’s make sure we have our seatbelts on and the doors all locked. We don’t want to be falling out along the way, now do we?” Nathan instructed. The real reason for his concern, as Evie knew, was quite different.

  He started the big turbo diesel and headed out across the back field. He bypassed the fallen body of the adult deadhead and made sure to avoid the clearing from which the other two had come. He skirted the tree line before finding a track through the woods, using the compass mounted on the dashboard to head north. In the passenger side footwell, shielded by Evie’s legs, was the loaded Remington, beside his Sako rifle, just in case there should be any trouble on the way.

  The cross-country route was slow going and at times a bumpy ride, which frequently sent Tom and Holly into fits of laughter, in-between playing I spy with Evie. She somehow managed to direct their attention away from more than one corpse. There had been some deadhead activity here over the last twenty-four hours. The sight of the deceased and mutilated animal carcasses filled Evie with dread. She knew that the infected hadn’t really killed for food. They had just killed, tearing the victims apart; eating the flesh had merely been part of the procedure of trying to satisfy their desire to kill, to satiate the bloodlust.

  The Jeep bounced along the rutted ground, crossing into a freshly harvested corn field that allowed for a comfier ride. Glancing to his left, Nathan noticed that the colour had all but drained from Evie’s face.

  “Are you okay, love?” Nathan said, in a hushed tone.

  “I’m fine. I think it’s just travel sickness. I’ll be okay when we get there. It’s been heavy going.”

  Nathan spotted movement over her left shoulder, running parallel to the Jeep about a hundred yards out. There were two figures heading to intercept them at the break in the fenced field. Nathan motioned to Evie.

  “Tom, Holly, listen carefully now. I want you to slide under your belts and get down between the seats you’re sat on and the seats in front, okay? Do you understand?”

  Tom had already begun to show Holly what had to be done. After seeing his sister to the shielded position, Tom took up his own, facing Holly and b
ringing his finger to his mouth to indicate they should be quiet. With the two children out of sight from the outside and as protected from any possible impact as they could be, Nathan gestured to the Remington to tell Evie to lock and load. Now, pointing to the two fast-moving figures in the distance, he pushed down on the accelerator to get as much forward momentum as possible.

  The Jeep lurched as the tyres fought for grip, kicking up dust and creating a badly tuned symphony of clinks and pings as small stones bounced off the underside of the car.

  The back end began to slide sideways as the front found traction. Nathan, correcting it, eased back on the pedal and the car snapped back into line as the engine torque balanced the drive, catapulting the two-tonne four-by-four towards the edge of the field. He could see the two moving figures, both men, but one of them pointed, giving the other instructions. That was odd, he thought, since his experience of the deadheads had shown him that they didn’t communicate or seem to have any ability to work together.

  Perhaps they are not infected?

  They both wore the same clothing, grey overalls and black boots, the first carrying a long-handled shovel and the second a fallen branch, to use as a makeshift club. They raised their weapons as the car came closer. Evie rolled down her window and rested the barrel of the shotgun on the wing mirror, frantically holding onto the weapon as they drove over the rough terrain.

  Aiming will be almost impossible.

  Now heading for the gap in the fence between the field and road, the two men split to either side of the oncoming car, shouting and raising weapons and hands. They wanted Nathan to stop. The children were silent save for Holly repeating over and over, “Bad people, bad people, bad people, bad people,” with Tom doing his best to calm her. Nathan had no intention of stopping, reasoning that even though they may not be infected, he couldn’t risk giving them the benefit of the doubt. Their actions were clearly aggressive.

  His grip tightened on the steering wheel as he approached the two men. The right figure flung the shovel at the windscreen on his side, shattering the glass but not managing to penetrate the cab. On the other side, his partner had managed to raise the club ready to swing, but the steel front bumper of the Jeep had caught his left knee, sending him spinning into the dirt as the weapon flew from his grip. Slowing up for the sharp turn onto the road, not wanting to roll the Jeep over, Nathan pulled hard on the steering wheel, right hand down, as the Jeep rose out of the dirt up onto tarmac road. He floored the accelerator as the vehicle levelled out, swinging the rear end left as the tyres screamed in protest.