by Byrd, Daniel
"I've been meaning to ask you about that," Houseman said, "assuming other undead can do the same thing, this creates quite a problem."
Hamilton shook his head. "I don't think you'll have to worry about that. Tuefel's notes show that she was the only success he had. Actually, he had just found the strain before I had arrived. The last entry was a few hours before he died. I'm the only one with access to the intel on how to recreate it, and that's what they want."
Hampton rolled his eyes. "You have the key to humanity's extinction. That's not the most comforting thought…"
"By the way," Hamilton started, "thanks for letting me access those files," he said to Houseman.
"We figured it would help you in your research. So, we shouldn't have to worry about another zombie leading an army to our doors?"
"I can't promise that," Hamilton began to explain, "it was a mutation, and she wasn't the only one that had it. According to Tuefel's words to me when I confronted him, one other deadman possessed the ability according to his assumptions. It may not have been the exact same strain, but a similar mutation."
"I'm guessing it was responsible for the events in Austin?" the President asked.
"Partially right. As I'm sure you've read in the reports Tuefel kept, the actual cause of the downfall of that Haven was the infected fowl that were released into the area. One of the subordinates under Tuefel orchestrated that catastrophe. Without that factor I'm sure the forces there could have held their own against the invasion without having to worry about having their backs turned on a threat from inside. Of course, even without the undead horde barreling towards them, the tactical use of those birds would've done heavy damage."
Houseman placed his hand on his chin. "The fowl were ravens not native to the area. They decided to add their own touch to the catastrophe…"
Hamilton nodded. "And to be honest, I'm not so sure the virus wasn't spread by other means."
"Like what?" Loft asked, eying the doctor curiously. Hamilton approached the podium and grabbed the bottle of water the President had been drinking from.
"It's quite possible that the virus could be waterborne," he said as he inspected the slushing liquid.
"Are you sure?" Loft asked him, alarm in his voice as he gazed at the water, his stomach starting to turn.
"It's a possibility. I don't see how the virus would have had many problems since it was based off of the measles and mono."
"Couldn't that mean that it's airborne?" Hampton inquired. He too was growing nervous with the realization of the possibilities of the virus.
"I highly doubt it," Hamilton replied as he handed the bottle to Loft, who quickly set it down and wiped his hands on his pants, "Tuefel's notes mentioned a failed attempt to render it that way. It would appear that the engineering methods removed that trait from the measles strain used, and Tuefel failed to restore it. The shell of the virus doesn't allow it to live long enough outside of a host. I’m not sure if it’s even capable of living in water. I just like to hypothesize while I have people who will answer me other than me.”
As long as the water isn’t chlorinated and the shell is intact…it’s possible I suppose?
While Hampton began to look slightly relieved, Arnold Martin spoke up. "Dr. Hamilton, you said in your report on the events that took place at the facility that Tuefel claimed he was being merciful to us. Considering disasters like that of Austin, Texas, care to share your opinion on the matter? After all, you were on the same research team-"
"Tuefel was a madman who thrived on power," Hamilton spat. "The maniac threatened his colleagues with death if they tried to cross him. Besides that, he was brilliant, so there was no point in trying. He was a genius the likes of which we will never see again, and he was nothing short of determined. That determination is what spawned his enemies, and that persistence to stand against them even while they came beating down his door is why he is dead." Hamilton glanced around nervously, collecting himself before speaking again, "Tuefel was pure evil, and that is all I need to say on that."
"And what does that make you?!" a woman in the back shouted. Hamilton was seriously about to answer her when Loft held up a hand. The talking ceased.
"I had heard there was some information about a vaccine," the President said. "Any truth to that?"
"Yes, but it's pointless. The vaccine works on a specific strain of the virus. Since it is constantly mutating, it's nearly useless."
"Nearly?" Loft asked.
"If we could use it as the basis for a vaccine against other strains, then sure, it's good that we have information on it. The problem is that the time it would take to develop them would take far longer than it would for the virus to overtake the planet."
President Loft appeared displeased with that news. He tapped his fingers on the podium and scanned the officials in the room as his mind went to conjuring up another question. "Back to this subject of Tuefel's experiments. He had plenty of bodies, so tell me this then; why would he have used one of his own in his experiments? Wasn't Julia Adler a part of Project Second Fall? Surely he wouldn't have just sacrificed one of his own henchmen without cause?"
The room was silent as they awaited Hamilton's answer. He stared at the floor between his feet and closed his eyes. They wouldn't find his personal feelings in the reports, but unfortunately for him, it seemed as though that was now information that needed to be shared with a room full of strangers. "He did it because of me." Everyone looked to him once more. He could actually feel the questions mounting up.
"He turned one of his own into an experiment because of you?" Loft asked incredulously.
"Yes."
These assholes are asking for your bad side to show.
"During the time on the project you and her became close, huh?" Houseman asked. Hamilton shot him a glare that shut him up, but he couldn't deny it.
This one knows too much about you.
Loft turned his head to the back of the room over the crowd. "I see…"
"Yet she was responsible as well?" Martin pressed on.
"She was a part of the project, yes, but she never had the intentions they had," Hamilton answered.
"How do you know this?" another man demanded of him from the second row. Hamilton didn't recognize him, but he didn't give a damn what rank he held. Everyone was beginning to piss him off.
"Why are you questioning something you'll never understand?! I'll have you know-"
"Hamilton," Hampton said from his right. Hamilton looked over at him and was met with a cold, sober stare from the Major. "Don't let personal feelings affect your work. I understand that you knew this woman, and that you even possibly had feelings for her, but vengeance will only cloud your mind."
Not much to cloud up here that isn't already in tatters…
"The only thing clouding my mind is being in a room full of people who don't know a damn thing about the threat out there!"
"Well then, doctor," Houseman replied on his left, "enlighten us. Inform the men and women of this room what the world is up against. Don't leave out any details. Sure, we've seen what they're capable of from the events three months ago, but what can we expect that isn't on the surface?"
Loft relinquished his spot at the podium and extended a hand to welcome Hamilton to it. Hamilton grunted and took the center stage. Placing his hands on both sides of the podium, he leaned forward and scanned the crowd before him. There was no point in being nice about it. Lying about the full potential of the undead would only muster false confidence. These people didn't need that. They needed to fear the monsters out there and respect them for what they were.
Isn't that what Tuefel argued?
Hamilton squinted at the crowd. "As you all know, our enemies are nothing more than reanimated bodies with the sole purpose of devouring food. Unfortunately, with nothing close to a rational mind to help them differentiate, they go after anything that triggers their senses, and all they know is to devour. It matters not if their prey is human or animal, they will stop a
t nothing to feed. What we've seen are the most dangerous of the infected; freshly turned bodies with motor skills capable of keeping up with most living beings. At first, they will even maintain human characteristics; cognitive thought, emotion, self-awareness. Then the hunger sets in," he added in a low growl, "the never-ending hunger that drives them to kill. With time, their actions and organs will dwindle to being able to respond only to mere sound as their eyes rot and their nerves die. We could attempt to wait for them to decompose into skeletons, but that process may be affected by the virus as well. Of course, colder climates will preserve them while hotter temperatures will speed up the process. I witnessed one of Tuefel's subjects in the facility that had been in containment for a full year. One had no alterations, and was simply an aged carcass that was still functioning with a decayed body. The other…she was preserved in cold storage."
There was murmuring in the crowd, and one man stood up. "Now, doctor, do you mean to say that with the progression of time, the threat of the undead diminishes?"
Hamilton shook his head, tired of the people he'd labeled imbeciles already. "No, you're missing the point! They still pose a threat, but the worst of the worst will dwell while the living population is still at its highest. As the living lose numbers to the infected, eventually the newly turned swarms will decrease in occurrence. Even then, unintelligent as the creatures may be, their numbers will make up for that. Though they cannot utilize physical weapons against us, the fear they have instilled into the masses more than compensates. They know no pain. Their nerves do not indicate to their brains any physical harm done to their bodies. They were meant to be the ultimate psychological weapons, and that is just what they are. Their bones will become brittle with time, and their flesh will fall away, but that is all humanity has going for itself. Nothing will appease their hunger. The only way the threat will truly end is when there is nothing else for them to threaten. When humanity's number hits zero, that's when the threat will be over. Until then, we're always going to be in danger." A thought occurred to him that made him chuckle. "Actually, you wouldn't be mistaken to consider us endangered right now."
The murmurings became heated banter as Hamilton looked to President Loft. The look on his face told him that he wasn't happy with that last statement, but Hamilton wasn't one to brighten up details. He wasn't a lying politician, after all. Houseman approached the podium and shoved Hamilton aside.
"All right, that's enough! You heard the man! The enemy doesn't sleep, doesn't fear you, and never gives up! We shouldn't either! We'll all need to cooperate to end the existence of those abominations to mankind!"
Hamilton cocked his head over towards the General. "Does that still include me?"
"Actually, the best vengeance you can get is on the frontline of all of this," Houseman replied.
"What?!" Hamilton and Hampton responded in unison.
"Hamilton, we brought you in here for a reason. You will be joining other handpicked soldiers to be inserted into the target area we believe that the World to Come is hiding out in, only you will be going it alone after that."
"Wait, what the hell?!" Hamilton exclaimed. It took a lot to actually take him by surprise.
"Don't worry," Houseman said with a smile. "You'll understand soon enough, and besides, you seem to be able to handle yourself just fine. After all, you did take down Tuefel single-handedly. If that doesn't qualify you, I don't know what does."
"General, you yourself told me we wouldn't give in to their demands! Do you realize what power we'd be giving them?!"
A man constantly teetering between calm and raging insanity? On second thought, I'm on Houseman's side. You'd cause them a lot of problems.
"Shut up!" Hamilton snapped at himself. Hampton took a step back as Houseman squinted, trying to understand the strange man before him.
"Relax, doctor," Loft said reassuringly. "We’re not simply handing you over. We need you to accept the offer. We need an inside man."
Hamilton still didn't like the idea. "They may revere me as a hero to their cause, but how do we know they won't just kill me when they have what they want?
"Well," Houseman began, "if all goes well, you'll be able to give us a location to start our operation in."
"I guess you get to sacrifice me after all, huh General?" Hamilton asked coldly.
"Hamilton, as much as I hate to admit it, you're still the best chance we have at stopping this."
"Didn't you see that footage? It's too late! Tuefel was right! If we give in to these fools we'll only be speeding up the process of our demise!"
The President laughed. "This country wasn't founded on sitting around waiting for hostility to end. It was founded by men that knew the perfect balance between action and words. They didn't sit idly by while the British ransacked their land, they fought back."
Hamilton grunted. "Funny words coming from the man who was bunkered down during the outbreak."
Everyone else in the room stared back and forth between the President and Hamilton. Loft smiled. "I will admit, procedures left me looking quite like a coward. I can assure you though that I wasn't just sitting in that mountainside with a thumb up my ass."
Hamilton was surprised by the choice of words the President had used, but decided to let him continue. "Go on?"
"Joint Task Force Grave Robber will be sent to Europe to hunt down the World to Come. You will agree to join the organization, and feed the task force any information you can. That includes the whereabouts of the World to Come."
Hamilton laughed. "You think it'll be that easy? It sounds like you're leading us into a trap."
Loft frowned at him from across the stage. "Do you have any better suggestions, Dr. Hamilton?"
Hamilton scratched his chin and thought it over. He had no intention of giving the information on Julia over. They'd have a way to actually command their army of the damned, and nothing would be able to mount up a proper defense against a concentrated attack. On the other hand, the U.S. had no idea how long it would take to find the hideout of the World to Come, and Houseman was right; this was their best chance. After several minutes of discussion from the rest of the room's inhabitants, Hamilton made a decision, and reached out to tap Loft on the shoulder as he discussed with Houseman. "Okay Mr. President, when does this operation begin?"
President Loft was satisfied that Hamilton appeared eager to start after all. "As soon as we've finished assembling the rest of the task force. It may be a few more days. In the meantime, feel free to continue your research until you are needed."
Hamilton nodded. "Very well then. Gentlemen, good day to you both." He turned to leave when Houseman called to him.
"Dr. Hamilton, it's six in the evening. Weren't you driven here across the campus?"
Hamilton stopped and thought on it. "Yes, I was. My mistake...what day is it again?"
The three men at the front of the auditorium all exchanged looks of concern. President Loft coughed into his hand. "Dr. Hamilton, it's the 25th of December."
Hamilton was shocked. "Really?! My, where have the last three months gone? Well then, Merry Christmas, I suppose."
The doctor left the room accompanied by a nervous Major Hampton. Everyone else continued to linger in the growing concern, and not all of it was due to the zombie menace. The Navy's Chief of Staff stood in the front row. "General Houseman, with all due respect, are you sure about him?"
"He's an odd one, but he really is our only chance. He's responsible for this, and he can fix it."
President Loft sighed as his eyes found his feet. "Right."
***
"What do you think of it?" Hampton asked. The doctor grumbled something in the back seat. Hampton turned around. "What was that?"
"I think it's the biggest risk this country has taken, and I'm unfortunate enough to be a part of it."
"You're not the only one being forced into a role. They've brought back the Selective Service Act in light of the Austin incident and everything else."
"Is tha
t so?" Hamilton replied absentmindedly, his focus on the missing finger on his hand.
Phantom pain is an odd thing. It's a shame you didn't grab a book on that from the library.
Hampton nodded at the building in front of them. "We lost a lot of good people that day, Hamilton. We can't afford to do that again. This is our one chance to get it right."
"As opposed to mine?" Hamilton inquired. Hampton took a minute to respond to that one.
"Contrary to what you may think, between you and me, I think what you did was probably the most heroic thing I've heard of in all of this chaos…even if…well everyone keeps reminding you anyway, so I'll shut it for now."
Hamilton's attention faded. He looked at the front of the Magnuson Health Sciences Center and sighed. It was going to be a gloomy evening, and that wasn't just because of the weather. The rain continued to pelt the windshield, and the loud impacts were distracting. “Forcing violence to end violence just seems counterproductive, don't you agree?"
Hampton thought long before answering; long enough for them to pull up to the entrance to the Medical Center. As they got out of the vehicle, he looked to the football stadium a distance away and replied. “I don't think of it that way. We need people ready to fight for a cause. To restore the balance of the world is a fitting one, I think. Don't you?" Hampton asked, turning back to see that Hamilton had already entered the building. He shouldn't have been too surprised. “Ass."
He hurried inside the Medical Center to catch up with Hamilton. To the doctor, the dreary mood didn't change. With the power in the building restricted to only the few rooms he was utilizing, the dim hallway wasn't very comforting to the doctor's thoughts.
"Doctor!"
"Hm?" Hamilton had forgotten the Major's presence.
"Please don't leave me to talk to myself when I'm addressing your question."
Hamilton grinned as he walked ahead. “It's not that hard. I do it all the time."
