BLOODBORNE: THE CHANGED BOOK 1

by S. M. LITTLE

  “Let’s go get some,” Larry blurted out and started to move.

  Dylan stopped him in his tracks. “Not so fast. We don’t know what’s inside.”

  Larry glared at him like Dylan had shot his parents.

  “If we are going to have a problem here, you are free to leave any time you like,” Dylan shot back at him. “This unit is not a democracy, and we go when I say we go, understood?”

  “Oh, yes frakking sir!” Larry said through gritted teeth. He forced out a half salute, mocking Dylan and returned to his original position.

  Dylan continued to glare at him as he moved back into ready position, then turned his attention back to Robert.

  “Bull, take a look through the windows. Look for any movement,” Dylan told him. Bullseye was his call sign, but they all called him Bull, for short. It also fit because Robert was built like a damned bull. Short, stocky, and beefy. All muscle.

  “Roger that,” Bull calmly replied. As a sharpshooter, he was used to maintaining his calm in times of stress. It did no good if the guy being depended on to save the team with his skills was a nervous wreck. Bullets would fly everywhere except where they were intended.

  “Motion from the right side. Two windows from the corner of the building,” Bull reported.

  Dylan looked at the windows and saw the movement. It appeared to be the blinds waving in the breeze flowing through the open window.

  “That’s just the shades moving,” Dylan told him.

  “No, look behind the shades,” Bull said.

  Dylan looked harder through his binoculars and saw what Bull was talking about. Behind the blinds was a green one. He was lumbering about the room, with no particular pattern to his movements. They could tell he had no eyesight left as he randomly bumped into the desk, walls and even the door.

  “Ok, we have confirmed there are Changed inside, which is what we expected. Outside of the building looks clear,” Dylan told his team. “From what I can remember, the goodies are located in the northeast section of the building. Team One will penetrate the building and make their way to the goodies. Team Two will get to the motor pool and secure us some rides. Remember, we need those deuce and a half’s to transport civilians with. Don’t forget them,” Dylan said mostly to Larry. Larry just nodded at the blatant ribbing by Dylan.

  “Everyone good? Remember your assignments?” Dylan asked. He got head nods from everyone indicating they were ready. “Move out.”

  Larry immediately went for the east side of the building, leading Team Two in the opposite direction from where Dylan had directed them to go. Dylan had instructed Larry to lead his Team to the west side so both teams could cover for each other. The main entrance was on the southwest side of the building.

  “Team Two, get back into formation,” Dylan ordered over the radio. Scott, Tim, and Randy started to slow, but Larry kept going.

  “Let them go,” Glenn told Dylan. “They could get into trouble if there isn’t clear guidance from Larry.”

  Dylan just glared at Larry from a distance. “Team One, move out.”

  Team One headed for the front entrance. Dylan was in lead position, with Glenn following. Bull and Bill brought up the rear.

  They reached the front door and stacked up to the right side. They switched comm channels so the two teams wouldn’t overlap each other and get confused.

  Glenn tapped Dylan’s shoulder, telling him they were ready to enter the building. Dylan, in a crouched position, walked into the building with his rifle raised. He aimed left as Glenn followed him aiming right. Bill came in third, aiming forward, and Bull pulled rear duty, covering their six.

  They entered the front reception area slowly. It was vacant of any living personnel. Several bodies littered the floor, bite marks covering them.

  Dylan pulled his military issue K-bar knife and started plunging it into the heads of the dead. After hearing the stories from Dylan, the rest of Team One pulled whatever knife they had and joined in, making sure all of the bodies were truly dead.

  The team continued down a long corridor that lead off to the right of the lobby. It led all the way down the front of the building. Offices lined both sides of the hallway, and the team took their time and cleared each room. Luck seemed to be shining on them as each room they had encountered so far was clear. They came to where the hallway turned to the left and stacked up again.

  Dylan waited for the tap on his shoulder letting him know the team was ready. Once he received it he promptly ‘quick checked’ the hallway and gave hand signals back to his team. He held up five fingers and then shaped his hand into a “G”, to signify that there were five green ones around the corner. Two offices down, on the right, was the room where they had spotted the green one pacing behind the blinds. The door to that room was shut, and so far, they had no intelligence that Greens could open doors.

  Dylan slung his rifle and pulled his K-Bar. He looked back to see his team do the same. They were learning quickly that ‘you did as Dylan did’. It was also immediately understood that they were going hand to hand with the Changed in the hallway.

  Dylan stood up and rounded the corner. He crouched into a fighting stance, with his knees slightly bent and arms up. His teammates followed suit, forming a line, and essentially blocking off the hallway.

  Dylan called to the Greens. “Hey you rage monster wanna be’s. I’m over here. Come get some.”

  Immediately, as predicted, the green ones turned to face the noise and started bumbling towards the men. They were so slow that Dylan was getting impatient. The inner demon in him wanted out to wade in their blood, but he calmed himself and steadied. It would do the team no good if he went running off and got himself killed. There were still a lot of rooms left unchecked that could hold more of the Changed.

  The fight finally started when the first green one was ten feet away. Dylan pounced on it, driving his K-bar through its left eye. Glenn followed him with his chef’s knife, hacking away at the next Greener in line. Soon, the whole team was hacking away at the heads of any Greener that was near. It was a quiet killing, but not completely silent. Grunts and groans could be heard, not only by them, but by the Greener behind door number two.

  Banging started on the office door, and they all turned to look. Greens lay strewn about as they looked at the door being pushed outward by the force of the blows.

  “That’s not just a greener in there,” Glenn said.

  “Rifles up!” Dylan ordered. “Run!”

  As they turned to run down the hallway, the door was brutally shoved open and a purple-colored hell spawn ran out. It looked like a body builder that had been juicing for the last fifteen years. Its clothing had been torn by the growth of massive muscles that appeared to have exploded out of its body.

  The team had a hundred-yard head start on the purple bastard, but they weren’t sure it would be enough. Along with superhuman strength and size, the team discovered the purple ones could run like gazelles. They only had fifty yards left to go to get to the goodies.

  “Get to the door then turn around and shoot that thing,” Dylan barked out. There was no sense in keeping quiet anymore, not with the loud thuds that thing was making with every footfall.

  The hallway ended at a door directly in front of them leading into the weapons room. There was a section of concrete wall on each side, and they lined up with the wall behind their backs.

  Bullets flew as the team opened up on the purple beast. Bull was taking calculated shots, as he was taught to do. He was aiming for headshots, but the thing was moving too quickly for him to get a solid hit.

  Bill and Glenn were starting to panic and began firing blindly. Most of their bullets missed, but some hit the beast in the chest. It was pure luck that their shots slowed the thing slightly. Dylan took that opportunity to send a salvo towards its knees. One knee was quickly shredded beyond any semblance of a human form, and its other knee also took some serious damage.

  Purple Guy dropped to what was left of his knees bu
t continued to crawl towards them. It was only seventy-five yards away and it would not relent. It somehow swerved from side to side, like it was deliberately trying to evade the shots from the team.

  Dylan couldn’t believe that it still had enough intelligence left to attempt to evade their fire, but time was now a major factor.

  “Keep him back,” Dylan ordered as he opened the door. He raced into the storeroom holding all the goodies. He searched until he found what he was looking for and grabbed two items.

  Racing back through the door, Dylan shouted for his team to get behind him and to take cover inside the goody room. He quickly pulled the pin on two fragmentation grenades, looked the devil in the eye and tossed them down the hallway.

  “Grenade,” he shouted as he backpedaled through the door and took cover behind the cinder block wall. He swore he could see recognition in the eyes of the beast just before he took cover. Seconds later, the grenades went off, sending shards of metal into Purple Guy. He dropped like a bad habit when the shards went through his head. Several Greens behind the beast were killed as well.

  Dylan quickly got up, closed the door, and locked it. He had no idea if there were any more purple bastards left but wanted to ensure they had a window of time in which to get out of there.

  “Get moving. Load up on weapons and ammo and let’s get out of here,” Dylan ordered. He’d had enough of this place.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  DULUTH, MINNESOTA

  Dylan switched his comms back to the main channel to see if Team Two had any luck with their mission.

  “Team Two, Team One,” he said. He waited a moment and repeated.

  Scott, otherwise known as ‘Boom’, finally answered. He was known as Boom because of his history with explosives while working in the mines.

  “Roger One, this is Two.”

  “Sit-rep?” Dylan asked. It was short for situation report.

  “Vehicles obtained. No casualties. No resistance,” Boom answered.

  “Where is Deuce?” Dylan asked. He was wondering where Larry, call sign Deuce, was and why he wasn’t answering the radio.

  “Ah, he’s taking a shit,” Boom told him.

  “A shit? Really?” Dylan said. He was flabbergasted, but still, it didn’t surprise him.

  “Yes, on top of your new Hummer,” Boom said.

  Dylan just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

  “One ready for extract. Northeast corner of building. We will have to move fast,” Dylan told him.

  Dylan didn’t let it get to him that Larry had not only put the entire Militia at risk, but had also decided to crap all over his new ride. He had more important things to do, like get his team out of the building.

  The door to the goody room had been banged against a couple of times, but only minor bumps. It told him that Greeners were definitely outside the door, but he wasn’t willing to gamble on it being only Greens.

  Luckily for them, this armory had a substantial supply of det-cord. Detonating cord is a hollow cord filled with explosive material. They placed a good amount of it on the exterior wall in the northeast corner. The plan was to blow a hole in the wall to get out.

  Team One had built a small shelter out of folding tables and any other items they could find. Dylan got behind the barricade and looked at his team. They nodded that they were ready.

  “Two, this is One. Stand back from the wall,” Dylan told them. He counted down from five over the radio and hit the detonation switch.

  Thunder cracked inside the building as the det cord exploded. It left a hole in the wall big enough for them to exit through, but not much else.

  “Team Two, cover positions outside the hole,” Dylan yelled over the radio. Everyone from Two went to the hole and faced outward from the building, except for Larry, who was busy looking for leaves to wipe his behind.

  Team One immediately went to offloading goodies through the hole. Larry was supposed to be there with a deuce and a half, but he was occupied.

  “Damn it Deuce, wipe your ass later. Get that truck over here,” Dylan screamed.

  “Up yours,” Larry shot back.

  Dylan was about to end him before Glenn stopped him.

  “Mission first,” he breathed at Dylan. Glenn was also close to beating some sense into Larry for risking the entire team but managed to keep it together. That’s why he was Dylan’s number two.

  “Boom, go get the trucks,” Dylan ordered.

  In short order, they managed to get five trucks loaded with all the goodies they could carry. They didn’t leave anything behind, because they never knew when they would be able to get more. Along with the trucks, they also procured a few up-armored Hummers. Dylan had been hoping to get some LATVs (Light Armored Tactical Vehicle) or MRAPs, but a National Guard motor pool was not the most likely spot for those. He would have to make a journey to a different base to find those.

  Bull had just finished loading the M2 mounted on the top of one of the Hummers when a huge bang sounded from inside the building. The door to the arms room flew open to reveal another purple beast.

  “Load up!” Dylan shouted, making sure everyone entered a vehicle. “Bull, open up on that thing!”

  Bull pivoted the M2 towards the target and pushed the trigger. Short, controlled bursts erupted from the gun, turning the purple Changed into mist.

  “RTB!” Dylan yelled over the radio. He had given the order to return to base. It was there that Dylan would set Larry straight.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  SEATTLE, WASHINGTON

  The Allen Institute was completely surrounded on all sides. The noise from the initial pack had attracted more Changed. They were now at least two blocks deep, and estimates were at least ten thousand or more in the crowd. The order for all quiet had been nullified. The Marines had tried to thin the crowd, but they wound end up depleting all the ammo they had on hand. Time was running short, as the Changed breached the underground garage. The only thing stopping them was the elevator. Power had been cut off to the elevators, so none of the Changed could accidentally hit a button and get in.

  Naval Base Kitsap had already sent two helicopters to the institute. They were sitting on the roof, waiting for the evacuation to begin. Several more were waiting at the base to help expedite the evacuation once it began.

  The soldiers were trying to give the scientists as much time as they could, but things were getting hairy.

  All the scientists were told to start saving any vital work in case the extraction order was given. The scientists had put up a fight because they were not aware of any other facility they could evacuate to that was safe and that could provide the research resources that the Allen Institute could. It took only one look outside to convince the scientists to start the backup procedures.

  “Get the test results backed up, right now!” Tina ordered. She was at her wits end. Time was running out and if they didn’t get the results backed up, Faulk would have died for nothing. He wasn’t dead yet, but it was inevitable. His fever had spiked in the last five minutes, signaling the change was in progress.

  “Move your ass! Tina bellowed. Bob had never seen her like this. She was like a crazed woman, ordering people around and running like mad.

  “Babe, you need to calm down a bit. They are trying their best,” Bob tried to soothe her. So far, he showed no signs of any infection. His temperature had remained constant at 98.6.

  “Best isn’t good enough right now. We need to move if we have any hope of saving what work we have accomplished here,” she fired back. “I have no intention of losing you.”

  If it hadn’t been clear to Bob why she was being a slave driver, it was now. She was deathly afraid for him. It’s not like he didn’t know that but seeing it in her eyes drove the point home and he felt responsible.

  “What can I do to help?” Bob asked her.

  “Get all these papers into boxes and get them to the roof,” she told him, letting out a huge breath that she felt down to her toes. The s
tress of the situation was wearing on her. The military called it ‘battle fatigue’, but ordinary citizens called it stress. She was under a ton of it.

  The papers she was referring to were hard copy backups of all the test results they had generated so far. They, of course, were also copying all the information to thumb drives and placing backups on the cloud, but Tina believed in the preppers motto, ‘Three is two. Two is one. One is none’.

  Bob had just finished loading the papers into boxes when all hell started to break loose. Faulk had started to convulse, hard. His temperature had reached 108 degrees, and no amount of ice would lower it.

  His convulsions were dramatic. A hundred times worse than an epileptic seizure and the doctors watched as the bones in his body started to break as the change began. Cries of terror and pain filled the lab as Faulk physically transformed before their eyes.

  Marines came into the room, rifles raised, as Faulk’s body started to contort. Faulk wasn’t a large man, coming in at 5’9” and weighing 175 pounds, but he was suddenly growing, his muscle groups enlarging dramatically. Ripples flowed throughout his body as each muscle group contracted and released. After each contraction, the muscle groups grew bigger.

  He also grew in length, growing from his normal size to almost seven feet tall. Every bone in his body had broken, and was repaired in minutes, making him scream in agony. High pitched wails emanated from his mouth as pain was the only thing he could feel. White-hot, searing pain flashed in his every molecule turning Faulk into a monster full of hate. Rage flashed in his eyes before they too changed. His pupils turned purple, covering almost his entire iris, leaving hardly any whites of his eyes. Small veins protruded out from his eyes, giving them a three-dimensional effect.

  The bed he was on started to droop in the center as the mass he was gaining began to overwhelm the supports underneath the bed. The chains used to restrain him were at their breaking point. Any more growth and they would fail.