by A L Carter
He had sat there fixated on the last frozen image shocked and sickened, this was no zombie movie special effects. He did another Google search on how far the pandemic had spread. The results came back global all major continents totally infected, survivors estimated at a minimum. Some of these were only a few hours old according to the time and date on the computer, so he continued reading the headings.
The government and elite had gone into hiding.
"Fucking typical, bastards!" he shouted, blood boiling.
Military and police overwhelmed and totally collapsed, leaving civilians to fend for themselves.
"Yeah but I bet they've got their own private army down in their bunkers," he was fuming now.
They never have cared about the people sending them to work for a pittance, slaves to a system that looks after only the rich and powerful he thought. Predicted civilian survivors globally less than three per cent and falling. When did pandemic start he typed? As he had no memory it was important to know. The search came back one hundred and forty-six hours, that's less than a week. It was incredible the speed it had spread. He wondered how it had started, man, nature or alien in origin. Most likely man he thought or more precisely the elite who always seemed determined to destroy everything. Maybe they had decided to reset mankind so that they can emerge when it's all over, expecting a veritable Eden awaiting them. Start a fresh; get rid of the riff-raff. He searched again, on how the infection passed on. The infection was spread in only one known way bodily fluid transfer, usually through a bite, which draws blood. This results in saliva to blood transfer, blood-to-blood or saliva to saliva. He let all this information digest for a while. It really did look like he was immune, he wondered if there were others like him. Entering this into the search engine, and answers appeared.
No incidences of immunity reported and no cure found yet, and with no known hospitals or research facilities running or staff available to work in them.
Should he offer himself for research?
"Bullshit!" speaking aloud.
If there were other survivors he would have to be wary as people were selfish at the best of times. In an apocalypse, people would be out for themselves and he would have to be careful whom he trusted, even any apparent official persons. These had potential to be worse as they were already organized and with the ruling factions underground looking after themselves. Groups like military, police and remaining government workers would become self-preserving with their own agenda. So if he just walked up to them and said I'm immune there was a good chance he'd end up hung upside down like a drip bag into some twats veins. No chance, He would have to be careful; zombies were only part of the problem. Speaking of problems, his body was in no shape for survival. He looked around himself, a fitness warehouse, was this pure luck? Developing fitness took time and he didn't know how long he had. For now, though his location seemed like it was not in a busy area maybe rural. He would look into this later. The building he was in seemed secure and could probably hold off a small horde of zombies for a while, as they did not seem any stronger than a normal person did. Certainly, they seemed slow-witted, the key was to keep a low profile and not get them interested. Other survivors could pose a problem if they came investigating, scavenging for supplies. He would have the make this place defendable to both zombies and other Survivors. There must be a stock inventory somewhere, probably on the computer. He had a list of problems to fix, get fit, get defended and information. But first of all, it was time for a brew.
Chapter 4
Biological weapon
6 months after virus discovery
Things had moved on fast for Doctor Oswald since events came to a head at the previous lab. Ironically, his apparent failure was just what they were looking for. Typical all they had wanted all along was a biological weapon. This is not what he strived for and his intentions were always for the good of humankind. Not to find a virus with the potential to wipe out 98-99.5% of the planets human population. This whole project disgusted him but knew that if he voiced his concerns then no doubt he would be assassinated and somebody else more ruthless would take over his work. When he travelled to this new lab he was blindfolded again but he had the feeling that he had been taken deep underground and was somewhere very secret. Since he had arrived six months ago it had been his new home and knew it would be futile to ask to leave, even for a day. The atmosphere was oppressive; he had no friends here feeling eyes on him all the while. There was no one to confide in, he could trust no one. Cameras were everywhere in every lab covering every angle. There was no safe place even his quarters had cameras, there was no sanctuary, not even the toilet. He once tried to have a shit in the dark so he had some level of dignity but the camera switched to night vision. What did they want to do access his shit on the Bristol stool chart, fucking bastards? He knew they monitored him because this discovery was so valuable to them and the mad depraved plan they had. If he could have he would have destroyed the virus along with his research but this would have been futile because he knew they already had his notes and samples. Let alone the 'live' subjects in the cells below the labs. These were not the same subjects as the first experiment as they had only lasted six weeks before they became useless sacks of rotting flesh. That apparently was not long enough. There was a group of theorists and mathematicians that had worked out day three would be the tipping point when a huge part of the population would be either an infected spreading more infection and death or outright killed. So they approximated that 50% would into either of these two categories, say 40% infected and 10% outright dead within the six-week window with the first batch with the infected no longer viable that left a possible 8-5% human survival rate. Which amounted to several million across the globe and these would be battle-hardened survivors. Which was a major inconvenience to them meaning pockets of resistance all over the world, multiplying and becoming a potential threat to their perfect world plan? After further manipulation of the virus, the second batch lasted a little longer, ten weeks in total. Which was an improvement but still they wanted more. So eventually, he reluctantly managed to give them exactly what they wanted. The current batch had lasted three months today, they were still going strong, and tests showed dramatically decreased cell degeneration. Now having the potential to last many more months. Even though he was appalled at where his work was heading he had to admit that the virus was fascinating. It was an amazing feat of biological engineering. The virus was transferred to the host through the passing of bodily fluids usually saliva or blood transfer via a bite wound. Once the host was infected it quickly bonded with brain cells. The brain normally required oxygen and nutrients that were delivered by the bloodstream to survive. All of which required a respiratory, vascular and digestive system to deliver. The virus needed nothing and was totally self-sufficient. When infected the brain became totally and independently alive as it were. However, at a diminished rate, higher brain function was totally lost leaving primitive mobility skills and base instincts like hunger and little else. Muscle cells would also be changed like the brain functioning as a slave to the brain. After initially prolonging the life span from six weeks to ten weeks by further modification of the virus, he appeared to hit a brick wall. If he had more time and less pressure on him to deliver then no doubt he could have broken through this obstacle. However, not having this luxury he came up with a unique strategy. He had managed to pre-program the virus at around the eight-week mark to stimulate the brain into producing a massive chemical dump thus amplifying all basic instincts, smell hearing, touch, and hunger. Eyesight would be completely gone by then, as they were impossible to preserve. After this chemical dump, it would revive the virus and decrease host deterioration further. This cycle could happen several times but deep down he hoped it would eventually fail sooner rather than later. This current batch was on its second cycle. This now excited the boffins coming up with a predicted human survival rate of 2-0.5%. Which the powers that be considered an acceptable figure that could easily b
e dealt with. Now that they were happy with his results, all data and samples were transferred to another department, effectively a factory for mass production. He no longer had access to the virus so he felt remorse at what he had created and guilty of the future murder of billions of innocent men, women, and children.
NSA building the United States of America
One month before the outbreak
Richard Clarke was chief in charge of the doomsday virus discovered by Jacob Oswald the lead scientist on the project. It had been through endless testing and tweaking and now it was now ready for mass production. Everything had gone according to plan and was scheduled, so why was he so nervous. He had been called to a meeting with the most senior in world power, was this the president of America or any so-called leader of any particular country? No these were the true leaders of the planet, the others being mere puppets under their control. They decided who won elections, who waged war with whom and who won. They controlled the masses lives, what history they were told and the technology they were allowed to have. They controlled masses and the knowledge they were allowed. Because too much knowledge would mean that they might start thinking for themselves and that couldn't be allowed to happen. No better than they obsessed over lame celebrities and social media. It was unusual that he had been summoned to meet with these shadowy leaders. He had never met them and truth be known he did not want to either. Sweat rolled off his forehead, he was terrified. Standing in front of a lift in the NSA building, the lift had been programmed to accept his retinal scan at precisely twelve noon, no earlier no later. As his watch chimed twelve he stood before the scanner. The doors opened and he entered with a feeling of dread, doors shutting behind him. With that that the lift began its descent. The lift did not have any buttons, which felt strange. Obviously, it was controlled from elsewhere because it started to move, slow to start then speeded up and appeared to be going down. This went on for several minutes at an uneasy fast speed like it was going to crash. It must be quiet deep down but he had no way of gauging how far. Then all of a sudden he came to an abrupt halt, he was glad he skipped breakfast today because he may have lost it. He looked out of the lift door everything was gloomy and uninviting and the lift, In contrast, was like a ray of light and his only way of escape. But he forced himself to venture out having no choice. There was no one to greet him but there was only one way to go it was a straight high ceilinged corridor dimly lit by red gloomy lighting. He started walking the long corridor until eventually seeing the large double doors. Standing before them considering how elaborate they seemed, twice the height and width of normal doors. This had the effect of making him feel smaller than he already felt. Thinking to himself that this is exactly what they wanted to make them even more superior. Well, he thought, time to pull himself together and think of his own importance as well. After all, he would run the project efficiency always ahead of schedule so everything was in order and he just had to report this to them. Then he could leave safely in the knowledge that his place was reserved in the bunker or the new ark as it had been nicknamed. He looked at the doors again there was no buzzer so he knocked with his fist. His knuckles hurt and the noise it produced was negligible. They were hard and cold the touch like granite. He rubbed his knuckles and looked around and above the door, he saw a dome-shaped camera. Betting that they were having a right laugh at his expense. He looked up at the camera and effected a smile which he was sure probably looked ludicrous and raised his right hand in feeble greeting.
"Hello, I'm Mr Clarke to see the...Board," he stammered.
At that, the doors opened with a sound like air being released or something being unsealed. Then they were silent as they opened all the way back revealing a massive room reflecting the size of the doors. But still dark so he struggled to define what he was seeing. There was a large semicircular table in the distance and in front of that was shallow circular pedestal, which suddenly lit up as if beckoning him. He went over and stood on it as if directed.
"Mister Clarke glad you could attend," figures came in to view around the table, but the voice was directionless, deep a vibrating.
It sent a chill down his spine and his stomach churned. Straining his eyes he tried to see the figures in greater detail. It was strange because their table appeared to be level with his chest but as four figures sat at the table they still appeared head and shoulders above him as if they were really standing, they also seemed wider shouldered than him. But maybe it was all just perspective and the lighting confusing him.
"Er yes, so ggg...glad I could finally meet you Mr?" Clarke stuttered.
He or they did not offer a name, "With regards to the project we gave you is everything proceeding as planned?"
He had a strange feeling that they were not really speaking but he could hear them anyway, feeling pressure in his head.
"Everything's ahead of schedule sir's you can be rest assured," he informed.
"And the virus will be released on the date planned," they asked.
"Yyy...yes as planned," feeling his fear rising.
Suddenly the four figures stood up, he stepped back falling off the pedestal and landed on his arse. He looked up at them in shock they must have been ten feet tall with a stature that was comparable, then their eyes glowed yellow luminescence. It was then that he lost bowel and bladder control. They are going to kill me he thought.
"No Mr Clarke that was only in event of failure or betrayal, you succeeded in your work so you are free to go," they replied to his unspoken words.
Clarke's head hurt with white-hot pain as he suffered the worst migraine of his life, but managed to scramble to his feet wet filth oozing down his trouser leg. Almost causing him to slip over in it, but regained his balance and ran for the exit in blind panic. At the end of the corridor, he landed in a gasping heap on the floor, looking hopefully at the doors.
"Goodbye Mr Clarke," they said.
To Clarke's relief the doors began to close then he fell into the welcome embrace of unconsciousness and the peace it brought.
Washington DC 7 days before the outbreak
Marcus Weaver was a lucky man because his future was guaranteed for him and his family, his lovely wife Vanessa their son and daughter. Because of his high ranking position as a civil servant he had been offered this position of contacting and vetting everyone who was deemed worthy to be on the ‘A list'. This list comprised of mainly the rich and powerful, government leaders and their select staff. Only the best-talented minds, scientists, psychologists, royal families, teacher's of all subjects, musicians, world-renowned chefs, and movie stars, as well as the selection of 100 males with only the best genetics and an equal amount of females with the same genetic specifications. These individuals’ ages ranged from 18 to 22 and deemed perfect for near future re-population. Officially, the evacuation started today seven days before the virus was released and most people would have evacuated by then. But some were allowed an extra two days, these were mainly politicians which would downplay the seriousness of the crisis, which would give the virus an increased chance of spreading rapidly. Then these politicians would then be whisked away to safety, leaving the remaining unworthy citizens to their fate. When the virus had done its job and cleansed the planet the earth would be a veritable Eden with the wildlife thriving. The underground base was connected by a vast subterranean rail and road network spanning the whole of the United States, including parts of Europe linking every major city. Citizens above having no clue what was beneath their feet. This first section of the base was a mere one-mile down, acted as a holding area so people could be given clearance, and granted permission to proceed. Anyone caught trying to gain access who was not on the list would be quickly dispatched. There was a massive security force of the most elite military so it was unlikely that any intruders could pose a threat to their safety. Likewise, their physical and mental health would be in the best possible hands with a highly skilled medical team with equipment, facilities, and supplies to match. When clearan
ce was given, they would be allowed to board the huge cylindrical lift and travel down another six miles to the main base. Unless of course they were not as high ranking as they thought and then they would be dropped off at an earlier level. He had not seen it for himself yet but there were rumours that it was a vast underground city. Inwardly he smiled to himself and the filthy general population did not have a clue where their tax dollars had been spent all these years. Some of the elite's had chosen to go to the shelter earlier, the British Royal family, for instance, had gone down over a week ago. Now safely in their enormous suites, which were fully staffed and catered for their every need. Marcus watched as VIPs' waited in line, some were complaining that they should not have to wait in line. Only the highest of elites were rushed through bypassing the queue. Then everyone went through a scanner like at the airport and all weapons were confiscated as only military personnel were allowed to carry arms. Then there was the identity check including retinal and fingerprint scans. One of the scanners alarms went off now as if to verify his point which usually meant there was there was another uninvited guest, who was not quite elite enough. He went over to investigate and their stood Peter Morden who was arguing with security.
"This is ridiculous my name must be on the list, there's obviously been a mistake which I'm prepared to overlook so just let me through and stop wasting my time," he demanded.
He was scanned again by security but Marcus knew it was no good you could not force the technology to except you. Again, the alarm sounded and two guards stepped forwards ready for orders.
"Well, of course, that won't work it's obviously faulty," desperation creeping into his voice.
"No I think not all the equipment has been calibrated," the lead security officer said with confidence lifting a hand over his head to signal the guards.
