Brent Acuff - Undead Nation 03 (3 page)

The group of survivors that had just been brought in stood in a tight knot outside a white tent. "Step two, private. Physical exam. Every person brought into this area is subject to a full body physical examination. No questions, no refusals." Donovan led the private towards the tent. "You will make sure you that everyone of those people go through and are cleared by the docs. If they don't," Donovan paused to let everything sink in. "Well, we will deal with that if it comes up."

The line of survivors were slowly being issued into the medical tent. Once inside everyone was separated and shown into individual rooms. Each room was no more than a six-by-six foot area, partitioned off with heavy canvas hanging from rods which crisscrossed the ceiling. Donovan followed Jackson inside as they kept close to their cache of survivors.

"Take all of your clothes off, please," came the orders from multiple rooms throughout the examination area. Most people complied, their faces turning red with embarrassment as they began to undress. Only a few refused. After multiple requests, armed guards were called in to force their compliance. No one refused at this point.

Private Jackson remembered his time in quarantine. Though the time he spent there was long and boring, he still had no idea what really took place in the camp. Everyone who made it out of examination was placed with others who had passed. It was those diagnosed with the infection who were segregated from the general population. This was where the nightmares lived.

Jackson's attention was drawn to a young girl who was just now being summoned into one of the partitioned areas. Tears welled in her eyes as she sought encouragement from her mother who gently pushed her into examination room before being escorted to a separate area. Jackson's eyes then roamed the line of strangers, stopping at each of their faces. All of them kept their eyes on the ground at their feet.

"Doctor, we have a wound here." The announcement caused everyone in line to whisper quiet prayers under their breath. Jackson looked where the announcement had come from, and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. An older man in white scrubs and two armed guards hurried quickly to the examination area where the young girl had entered. Jackson's breath quickened and he felt as if he was about to faint. Donovan touched his shoulder.

For what seemed an eternity, Jackson waited for the doctors to finish their examinations of the young girl. Finally the doctors exited the area. "She's fine. That gash is on the bottom of her foot, and it looks pretty old. I'd say it was at least five or six days old, and the blood in her shoes is probably from tearing it open again when they were escaping. We'll separate her from the general population, but keep her with her family. If she made it past the dogs, then I seriously doubt she was infected."

The younger doctor nodded, accepting the diagnosis of the senior doctor before turning back to the waiting girl. "There are clean clothes in the cabinet behind you. You can get yourself dressed and we'll get you back with your mother just as soon as she is finished."

Jackson pressed his hand to his heart trying to stop its maddening beat. He started to turn to face Donovan, but his world turned dark. His last vision before passing out was of Donovan lowering him to the floor.
 

-----

Jackson's eyes fluttered and opened. Donovan sat in front of him with his attention focused on the MRE in his hands. Slowly, Jackson glanced around him, trying to gain his bearings. He could see he was in a lean-to, but could not determine where he was. The sounds of camp life drifted in to meet him, muffled and indistinct.

"How are you feeling?" Donovan asked the private without looking up from his meal. Jackson took another look around before shaking his head and looking at the veteran.

"What happened?" he asked, knowing the answer already.

"You passed out. What else do you want to know?" Donovan took another bite of his steaming MRE.

Jackson's brow furrowed as he tried to remember what had happened before. Suddenly his eyes got wide and his breath caught in his throat. "What about..."

"The girl is fine," Donovan interrupted. "The girl was taken back to her mother and father. All three are together in quarantine. C block."

"What does the C stand for?" Jackson asked.

Donovan looked up and smiled at the young private. "Clean."

"Oh," Jackson responded, looking down at the floor he was laying on. "What about the others?"

Donovan returned his attention to the MRE. "C block, Jackson. Every one of them." Donovan eyed the private over his food. "You got lucky, private."

Jackson put his hand over his heart, willing it to slow. "You hungry?" Donovan asked. Jackson shook his head.

"Okay," and Donovan stood. "We're still not done yet. You get to see the other side of it." The veteran soldier held out his hand to help the young soldier up. "It's time to see the nightmare you didn't know existed."

Donovan led the young private past the organized chaos that was the C block of quarantine. Large open air cages containing simple cots and hygiene facilities housed a number of survivors that had been brought in from the city. Each cage housed between ten and twelve individuals, protected from the elements by canvas and tarps on three sides and the roof.

Jackson could vaguely remember his time in quarantine. The facilities had been comparable, but it had also been the middle of winter. At times the temperature had dropped to below freezing. Without solid walls to keep out the freezing elements, Jackson thought he would never survive, let alone get warm again.

"Wake up private," Donovan called, snapping Jackson out of his memories. "Come on. You've seen all this before."

Donovan and Jackson kept walking far past C block, finally entering into a heavily secured area. Armed guards walked the grounds and the tops of the rows of cells. These cages were significantly smaller than those in C block, each only able to house one person. The cells were wide but shallow, allowing the occupants to sit in the middle of their cell without being able to touch either side. Jackson was baffled by the cage design.

"This is barbaric," Jackson muttered as he looked around the area. "These people are being treated like animals." Jackson eyed Donovan with contempt.

"Use your head, private. This is Z block. This is where the infected come to die." Donovan put a hand on Jackson's shoulder and pushed him forward.

"What people don't realize is that the passage between the dog kennels has been shown to be nearly one hundred percent effective. For as many times as I've been through there, I have never seen it fail," Donovan explained. "C block is just a precaution. This," and Donovan indicated the cells before him, "is where the quarantine really happens."

Donovan led Jackson down between the long row of cells. "Each person is given their own cell, provided there is enough space. The infection has an incubation period of only three days, and after that, well," Donovan shrugged his shoulders, "we have a new vacancy."

Jackson stopped walking. "What do you mean?"

"Stop being naive, private. You and everyone else knows there is no cure for the disease, there is no treatment. The infection has a kill rate of one-hundred percent. The only problem is, once they die they get back up and try to rip your throat out." Donovan continued on.

"All we can do is provide some basic comfort until the infection takes over. Then, the only option is to put them down."

"You mean you just kill them?!" Jackson sounded outraged. Donovan turned on the young private.

"Grow up, boy! Just what do you think we can do, huh? Release them into the wild? Adopt them out like a lost puppy?" Donovan advanced on the private causing the young man to retreat backwards. Donovan pointed at one of the infected men. "Do you want to meet him again? Out there? As he tries to kill you?"

Jackson's eyes were wide with fright and he was breathing hard, desperately backing away from this man who was descending on him. Donovan stopped his advance and gave the young private a moment to compose himself.

"So what do we do?" he asked timidly. Donovan suspected Jackson already knew most of that answer.

"We do take care of them, as much as possible." Donovan moved to stand directly in front of the private, this time without any hint of aggression. "When someone is found to be infected with the virus, they are placed under armed escort immediately. We have no idea how long they have been carrying, so there is no way to know when they might go. Everyone is taken to meet with a doctor to confirm the injury, then immediately to see the shrink."

"A shrink?" Jackson asked surprised. "They meet with a psychiatrist?"

Donovan nodded. "These people have just been told they are going to die, and in one of the most horrible ways imaginable. They all need to talk."

Donovan moved to Jackson's side and put an arm across the boy's shoulders. "These people here," and he motioned to the cells before them, "are the few who refused to accept their fate and refused option A."

Jackson looked at Donovan confused. "What is option A?"

"Option A," Donovan explained, "is when you are given a gun with one bullet." Jackson's eyes widened in surprise again. "Don't be naive, private. There is no shame in choosing death in order to protect your family and friends. Those people are given every amount of respect and honor they deserve.
 

"These people," and Donovan brought Jackson's attention back to the cells. "These are the cowards. Unable and unwilling to accept the inevitable"

"And what happens to them?"

"They are taken care of as best we can. They are allowed their last moments and the infection is left to run its course."

An alarm rang through the Z block and soldiers jumped to action.

"You need to see this," Donovan said and pushed the private in the direction of the alarm. "Someone has just succumbed to the virus."

A small knot of armed soldiers gathered in front of a single cell. Inside, a man lay on the floor, unmoving, yet every soldier had their weapon trained on the body. A doctor in dirty blue scrubs hurried forward and two men leaned a plexiglass shield with a small opening against the front of the cell. One soldier stepped up to the shield and slid the bolt back on his Glock 45. He was as white as a ghost.

Everything fell quiet as the gathered soldiers waited for what they knew was coming. The doctor stood next to the soldier standing watch at the plexiglass shield. For what seemed an eternity, nothing happened. Just as Jackson was about to ask what everyone was waiting for, the body in the cell moved.

Awkwardly, as if a young child were first learning to push themselves up and walk, the body rose. It turned its eyes on the gathered crowed and Jackson shuddered.

The creature's eyes were cloudy and lifeless. Its mouth opened and the monster let out an unholy moan that chilled the private's blood. The doctor's hand raised to the soldier's shoulder and he gave a squeeze. The Glock barked and the creature's right eye socket exploded in blood and gore. The remains of its destroyed eye sprayed across the plexiglass shield as the creature's skull was ripped apart. The moan stopped instantly and the now dead creature slumped back to the ground.

Jackson watched as the gathered soldiers seemed to deflate, but none more than the one who had pulled the trigger. The doctor took the man by the arm to lead him away. "What just happened?" Jackson asked, despite being witness to all the events. He watched as the remaining soldiers slowly slung and holstered their weapons and began clearing the area. The shield, gore slowly running down it, was carefully removed.

"No matter what you think of this operation, or these men," Donovan explained, "remember that not a single one of them wants to be here. Every soldier you just saw is a criminal. This is their punishment."

Jackson was confused. "I don't understand? How is this a punishment?"

Donovan smiled. "Think about it, private. What was your reaction to the lieutenant's sentence on you?"

Jackson shook his head, trying to forget the terror that had swept through him only a short time ago. "What were their crimes?"

Donovan shrugged. "Not sure. Lots of different things. Theft, assault, not following orders..." Donovan let the last few words hang in the air. "There is no place for jail cells; no reason to lock able bodied men away. There are too many other less-than-desirable things that people can be assigned to keep them in line. This place is the worst."

Detainees from all over Z block began calling out, pleading for someone to listen. Jackson tried to make out what they were saying. "What are they doing?" he asked Donovan.

"They are trying to choose option A," he said. "This always happens when someone succumbs to the virus. Everyone gets a front row view of what is to come. And once you know," Donovan said, screwing up his face, "almost anything sounds better."

-----

Liam sat in the corner of his cell, quietly watching the others in quarantine. Families cried and hugged, relieved that they were out of the city, but worried about what was to come. He absently shuffled a deck of cards, about the only thing that Liam had to pass the time.

"Few more hours," Liam said to himself. He had spent two and a half days slowly going stir crazy while he waited for his mandatory time to expire. Liam wasn't worried about not getting out. He'd been stuck in quarantine before and knew that if he made it past the dogs, there was almost zero chance he had been infected.

Approaching footsteps drew Liam's attention up. He was greeted by a smiling Alex Kemp. "Are we having fun yet?" Alex joked with his long time friend. Liam snorted.

"So much fun I might just have to stay." Liam shook his head. "It's the pits, man. I'm ready to be out of here."

"I know," Alex empathized. "We've all been there. Multiple times. How you holding up?"

"I'm fine, Alex. Really. It's nothing I can't handle." Liam stood and crossed the small space to stand in front of Alex. "More importantly, did you guys get anymore out?"

Alex nodded. "Almost thirty, not counting the dozen we got on your trip>"