Extinction

by M. D. Massey

  “None of the other test subjects panned out. Not a single one developed any immunity whatsoever to deader venom. However, it seems something was triggered in your immune system after you were bitten and exposed to Bobby’s blood. What I’m saying is that it’s not the serum that’s fighting off the infection in your body—it’s you.”

  To be honest, I didn’t know whether to be angry or grateful. Uncle Sam had a history of experimenting on service members without their knowledge or consent, but I thought that shit had ended with Tuskegee. Apparently, it hadn’t.

  Should I have been surprised? Not really. Uncle Sam could give two rat turds about a soldier’s civil rights, the Uniform Code of Military Justice be damned. I mulled over what the Doc had said for a few moments, then decided it wasn’t worth being upset about. Especially not if it had saved me from turning.

  “Alright, Doc, let me get this straight. When I was in the service, I was selected for this project of yours—”

  “Project Cerberus,” she interjected.

  “Right, Project Cerberus. After that, I was given an inert form of deader venom—probably something they snuck into a vaccination, like they did with the anthrax vaccinations in Desert Storm.”

  “Correct. In fact, that was the first stage of the serum trials on humans. Soldiers who didn’t get sick or die after receiving the inert deader venom were advanced into the next stages.”

  “But after I got injured and was sent home, I was deemed unfit for the project.”

  She shook her head. “Not necessarily. You could have still participated, but at the time we were looking for completely whole and healthy candidates. So, your jacket ended up in the alternates pile.”

  “I guess your standards must have dropped, what with the zombie apocalypse and all.” She didn’t even blink. “So, my next question is, what happened to all the other candidates?”

  The Doc tsked and tapped her lips with a knuckle. “Let’s see—some candidates refused to participate. Several more exhibited less than desirable psychological traits and washed out before receiving the treatments. Two test subjects died from adverse reactions to the serum. Four subjects completed the trials successfully. One was assigned here, to protect me and this installation. He disappeared on a mission not too long ago.”

  A lightbulb went off for me, and something clicked into place. “Gabby’s mysterious Uncle Tony, I presume.”

  “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “And the other three test subjects?”

  “One was KIA during the invasion, and the other two are assigned to different installations. I am unaware of their activities at the present.”

  I ran through a number of questions I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to push her too hard. So, I skipped ahead to the one thing that was tops on my “I need to know right now” list.

  “Alright, that clears up some loose ends for me. Now, show me the containment unit.”

  I followed her out of the lab and down a corridor, through a keycard-protected metal door, down a hall, through another door that opened with a keypad, and into a room with a large bank vault-style door. She gestured at the vault.

  “The containment area.”

  “Impressive. Now, show me what’s inside.”

  The Doc’s face was blank. “As you wish,” she replied, and walked over to a panel next to the door. She entered another lengthy code into a keypad and the vault door hissed, clanked, and slowly swung open.

  “How do you know there’s not something wicked waiting for you on the other side?” I asked.

  “Because the vault door wouldn’t open if there were.”

  I nodded. “Huh. So what happens in case of a complete power failure?”

  “Total lockdown. Nothing gets in or out of this vault under those conditions.”

  It took several seconds for the door to open all the way, after which I followed her through the entrance. The room beyond was mostly steel and concrete, with a series of large metal shutters covering what I assumed were enclosure observation windows, in rows along either side of the room. Safety tape had been placed on the floor in front of some of the enclosures, demarcating a safe viewing distance, I presumed.

  I whistled, long and slow. “Wow, the military spared no expense on this place, did they?”

  “After a few early incidents, the powers that be decided it was in their best interests to ensure the absolute security of any supernatural entities in their possession.”

  “Don’t you mean ‘custody’?”

  “I meant what I said. The government sees these things as property, and nothing more.”

  I thought about the repercussions of having werewolf DNA spliced onto my own, and how that might affect my civil rights and citizenship under a functioning government. I also thought about Bobby and Gabby. I made a mental note to get the three of us really lost, really fast, should we ever end up with a functioning government again. No doubt they’d have us locked up and then throw away the key, once we were no longer of use to them.

  Still, I couldn’t see that happening in my lifetime. The best-case scenario was that we’d dose a couple dozen of our people with the serum, and then we’d push the deaders, vamps, and anything else that wasn’t mostly human out of the Texas Hill Country. As far as I could see that was the most we could hope for, all things considered.

  The Doc spoke and pulled me out of my reverie. “What you see before you are ten state of the art containment units, constructed out of a special alloy that contains both iron and silver. The observation windows are made from an extremely high-tensile-strength polymer, capable of withstanding .50 caliber gunfire. Each containment unit is outfitted with a number of countermeasure devices, including anesthesia, silver nitrate and acid mist nozzles, and flamethrowers. Also, the walls, floor, and ceiling of each unit can be charged with high-voltage electricity.”

  “Does that work?”

  She shrugged. “Different methods work on different supernatural species. Obviously, silver works best on weres and vampires. Acid works well on zombified humans because it melts their connective tissue. Electricity works on deaders as well, but only momentarily. Fire works on pretty much all of Them.”

  Before tussling with the Corridor Pack, I’d never used fire against the creatures, simply because it was impossible to control the aftermath. If you started a fire and it spread, you might just end up burning down your safe house or cutting off your only avenue of escape. Besides that, brush fires could be deadly in the safe zones, which was why almost every settlement cleared brush and cut fire breaks before the dry season.

  However, it was a weapon worth exploring. I made a mental note to come up with a reliable way to manufacture Molotov cocktails. Heck, there might have even been some Willy Pete grenades or a flamethrower lying around. I’d get Gabby to help me search later, after I dealt with the Doc.

  “How many of these units are currently occupied?” I asked.

  She smiled a wicked grin. “All of them. Most of our test subjects are kept in a sort of suspended animation. We reduce the level of oxygen inside the cells, and keep the temperature at subzero levels. Even the dead need some oxygen for their cells to function, and for the most part all living matter slows down the colder it gets. The combination keeps most of Them dormant, or at least unable to cause us much trouble.”

  I nodded, impressed at the setup. “It’s too bad we couldn’t find a way to use that method offensively.”

  The Doc checked some data on a computer screen as she replied. “We tried coming up with a weapon that could freeze them, but the tech just wasn’t there. Grenades, guns that shot liquid nitrogen—none of it was reliable enough for field use.”

  “Hey, you said that low oxygen levels and extreme cold worked on ‘most’ of Them. You mean you have one in here that’s awake right now?”

  “Yes, that’s correct. Let me introduce you to Subject 217.”

  GREY

  I followed the Doc over to a cell halfway down the row on the right si
de of the room. She hit a button on the wall and I heard the clank of a lock releasing, then the metal shutter over the observation window slid up with an electronic whine. The space beyond was dark, and there was condensation on the glass.

  I leaned in to look more closely, and noticed that what I was seeing wasn’t condensation; it was a spider’s web. Then, a face unlike anything I’d ever seen before slowly advanced into the light. The thing’s mottled skin was chitinous, yet pliable, and covered in tiny hairs. It had multiple pairs of dark, shiny eyes on its face and forehead, above and below two larger orbs that stared at me from where a human’s eye sockets would have been. Perhaps strangest of all, the creature had a split lower jaw, bifurcating into mandibles that ended in sharp black fangs that dripped saliva… or venom.

  It moved closer to the glass, observing me with those creepy eyes. The thing had a humanoid body, with the exception of two pairs of spider-like appendages that extended from either side of its torso under it’s more human-looking arms. It was also naked, and had teats running down either side of its torso, like a female dog or pig.

  “What—what is that thing?”

  “As far as we can tell? It’s a Jorōgumo, a form of yōkai—Japanese demons. How it ended up here in the U.S., we don’t know. It’s the only one we’ve ever found. When it was captured, it had taken the form of a beautiful Japanese woman who was working as a prostitute near Houston. Oil field workers and refinery employees started going missing, and when their desiccated corpses began showing up, we got wind of it and sent in a team to investigate. We lost three top-tier operators capturing it, and we’ve been studying it ever since.”

  “I’ll be damned. It’s a freaking were-spider?”

  I tapped the glass, and the thing cocked its head at odd angles in response, those unblinking eyes glued to mine. Then, it began to morph, changing its shape and transforming into the most beautiful Asian woman I had ever seen. She had milky white skin that was unblemished and flawless, and long flowing black hair that cascaded down her shoulders, barely covering her absolutely perfect breasts. She moved seductively behind the glass, and I found that I couldn’t take my eyes off her exquisite nakedness. As I watched her hips sway and her firm, heavy breasts undulate, I heard a voice inside my head.

  Free me, and I am yours, it said. Forever.

  I stood there for a moment mesmerized, then began looking around for some way to release her from her cell. That is, until the metal shutter slammed down over the enclosure observation window. I was left standing there with a very embarrassing bulge in my pants, wondering what the hell had just happened.

  The Doc crossed her arms and tapped a finger on her chin. “Hmmm… I honestly didn’t think she’d take an interest in you. Sorry about that. I figured you weren’t her type.”

  I coughed and turned away in embarrassment. “Well, this is awkward.”

  The Doc chuckled. “Oh, don’t sweat it. She used to do that to most of the guys in the lab. Nearly caused an escape incident once, so they stopped letting the men work with her. I ended up doing all the research on her after that.”

  She paused and pointed at my nether regions, twirling her finger around. “It’s sort of like supernatural Viagra. It’ll take a while for that to go away.”

  I let out a small sigh. “Thanks for the warning. Next time, I think I’ll skip the tour and just ask for a status report.”

  “Oh, get over yourself. I’m a scientist, Scratch. You think we didn’t run tests on her abilities, to see if there was a way we could replicate her telepathy? Trust me, I’ve seen a lot stronger reactions than that to Jori, as I like to call her.”

  I removed my BDU jacket and sat down in a chair nearby, covering myself with the clothing—much to the Doc’s amusement.

  “So, did your research turn up anything that could be of use?”

  The Doc’s face was a blank slate as she responded. “No, I can’t say it ever did.”

  “Huh. Seems like a lot of effort, keeping her alive here and all if she’s not of any use.”

  She busied herself at a nearby workstation and avoided making eye contact. “Well, the decision was made to keep her alive, on the odd chance that we might find a way to tap into her abilities at some point.”

  I knew I was onto something, but I didn’t know what. Still, the fact that I’d just been humiliated made me want to pursue this line of questioning further.

  “But did you ever try to concoct some sort of super-serum from her DNA? I mean, surely you brainiacs and the powers that be considered it. I figure the CIA would just love to have a bunch of mind-controlling Mata Hari’s running around, seducing foreign diplomats and stealing state secrets. Heck, that’s a spook’s wet dream, no pun intended.”

  She continued to busy herself at the workstation, avoiding eye contact with me. “We did,” she said, “but it never panned out.”

  “Huh. Too bad, I suppose.” The Doc never was much on conversation, but based on her reticence, it appeared that I’d hit a nerve. I looked around the room for a moment, and decided to change the topic of conversation. “Hey, it looks like I’m going to be stuck here while I wait for things downstairs to go back to normal. You got anything to read?”

  An hour later, I headed back to the main level, still embarrassed but decidedly ready to forget that I just been brain-raped by a were-spider. We still needed to look for our missing people, so I quickly showered and headed to the mess hall for a bite to eat. Gabby and Bobby were there waiting on me, playing cards and drinking instant coffee like a couple of old folks sitting around a nursing home.

  I walked by them on my way to see what was in a big pot on a table out front. Whatever it was, the smell of it had my stomach growling from all the way down the hall.

  “You guys hear anything about our missing folks while I was gone?”

  Bobby didn’t bother looking up from his cards as he replied. “Nope, nothing. You sure you want to go out looking for them now? It’s getting kind of late. Might be better to wait until morning.”

  Gabby rolled her eyes. “Bobby, we’re the only people here who can see in the dark. Stop being such a baby.” He stuck his tongue out at her, and she grabbed a card from the discard pile, expertly throwing it hard enough to stick in his forehead.

  “Owww! Damn it, Gabby, I told you if you did that again I was going to stop teaching you how to play cards.” He plucked the card from his forehead and wiped the blood away, and the small cut stopped bleeding almost instantly.

  She looked at me and smirked as she laid her hand face down on the table, then she stabbed a finger in Bobby’s direction. “Dog boy here says he’s scared of puppies.”

  “Say what?” I scratched my head. “How in the hell can you be a werewolf and be afraid of dogs?”

  “See there? That’s just bigoted thinking. Can’t a werewolf have a simple phobia? Big-ass dogs make me nervous. I have my reasons, so can we just leave it at that?”

  I shook my head. “You’re shitting me, right? I mean, not too long ago, we fought a wolf the size of a small pony. I didn’t see you shying away from that fight.”

  He slapped his cards down on the table. “See what I mean? Bigoted, the both of you. We fought a giant wolf, w-o-l-f. Not a giant dog. And certainly not a pack of them with shiny eyes and teeth that would give Jaws nightmares. Giant wolves, I’m fine with—but demonic dogs? Not so much.”

  “So, what about Ghost? You sure weren’t afraid of him. Speaking of which, where is that dog? Didn’t they bring him from the castle house?”

  Gabby smirked and laughed. “He says that one dog wasn’t a big deal, but getting chased by a pack of hounds freaked him out. And yes, Ghost is here, but Janie wouldn’t let me bring him in the mess hall.”

  “Well, I suppose there must be rules.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Sure, but it isn’t exactly fair.” She pointed at Bobby again. “He gets to come in here, but Ghost doesn’t? That’s not fair. Ghost is way cleaner than Bobby, and he leaves less of a mess after
he eats, too.”

  Bobby gave her a dirty look. “Just because I got a little excited about finding a can of Natural Balance Duck and Potato dog food, it doesn’t mean that I’m a slob.”

  “Oh no? You had flecks of that stuff all over you. It was in your hair and everything.”

  Bobby crossed his arms and sat upright in his chair with his nose in the air. “I’m not playing cards with you anymore.”

  “Baby.”

  “Loser.”

  “Wimp.”

  I walked off while they were still arguing, and grabbed a bowl from the table. I picked the pot lid up and peered underneath. Menudo, yum. Smelled like crap when you cooked it, because you were cooking intestines. But boy, was it delicious. I betted dimes to donuts it was Janie’s doing. I got a bowl and scarfed it down, and by the time I finished, the kids were still going at it.

  “Alright, enough. You ready to go find these things?”

  Gabby made a face and chuckled. “Well, I am—but the wittle baby here is probably worried he’s gonna get bitten by a puppy dog.”

  Bobby decided to give her the silent treatment.

  “Oh, are you going to cry, wittle baby?”

  Bobby was starting to fume. I decided to step in. “Gabby, that’s enough.”

  She ignored me and kept it up. “What’s wrong? You worried the hounds might use you as a chew toy?”

  I could see that Bobby’s nails were growing longer, and his jawline was shifting. “Gabby, get up and walk away from this table, right now.” My voice was low and clear, and it startled her out of her tirade.

  She looked at Bobby, then at me, then back at Bobby with a surprised look on her face. “Okay, geez—I didn’t mean anything by it. We joke around like this all the time.”

  I looked her in the eyes. “Go. Now.”