Degeneration (2 page)

“The entire third sublevel
floor became contaminated. The floor was immediately quarantined and locked down. The res
t of the building has been cleared and evacuated.

“
Your primary objective is
to neutralize
any and all remaining personnel on the quarantined floor.
You will fire two rounds into the head of each staff member you come across, no exceptions.

“
Your secondary objective is to place thermal charges inside the main laboratory in order to neutralize any trace of the contaminant.”         

Sgt. James ducked back inside the cockpit and pulled out a small black duffle. He tossed the duffle over to Lloyd. 

Lloyd caught the bag and held it against his chest
, hands trembling
. 

“Place one s
et of charges on the main
r
efrigerator inside the
laboratory and place the second set on the laboratory’s data servers in the back of the lab.” 

“Sir, permission to speak,” Corporal Nathan Andrews said. 

“Speak,” Sgt. James quickly responded. 

“Is it necessary to neutralize the staff?” Cpl. Andrews
asked, clearly uncomfortable
.   

Sgt. James nodded
somberly
. 

“The staff may
be hostile and
are all
highly infectious.”          

“In what nature, sir?” 

“Classified.” 

Lloyd looked down at the black duffle, frowned, and
immediately looked away. He
turned his gaze out the window. Whatever ‘PT-12’ was, it scared the shit out of him.

Below the helicopter, armed white-suits led unarmed soldiers and scientists at gunpoint into large white tents. The base's gatehouse was empty, and the barbwire-topped gate was wide open; a convoy of white vans poured through the open gate towards the main complex. ‘Welcome to Fort Detrick, home to the US Army Medical Research and Materiel Command!’ a large sign suspended over the entry gate read.           

The helicopter continued flying over manicured grounds and began
its
descent towards what looked like a sma
ll office building covered with
clear plastic sheeting; the sheet
ing
draped over the entire building and large white tents surrounded the building's base. White-suits hauled equipment into the base of the covered building and some of them looked up as the helicopter descended towards the roof.   

The side doors of the helicopter cabin slid open with a hiss.

“Take the
roof-top
elevator d
own to the sublevel third floor. You won’t find any buttons inside the elevator for the floor due to the floor’s clandestine nature, but base
security
will remotely lower the elevator down once you all step inside
. After you place the
explosives and the staff has all been neutralized
, take the elevator back up the main level for decontamination and extraction. The
base
will take care of it from there.”                          

Sgt. James stepped back into the cockpit and slid the door shut without another word. 

The helicopter hovered twenty feet above the roof of the building, rippling
the plastic that shrouded it.
The soldiers stood up, secured their weapons, and fast-roped down onto the roof in unison.

The sergeant sighed
and
sat down next to the pilot, frowning, staring blankly out the window. 

“Eagle One to Hawk
Nest,” Sgt. James said into the secure
line, “the team is in position and
is about to make first contact.”

4

T
he wail of the
alarm was deafening.

The alarm gave a
shrill cry as it cast red strobes into the recesses of empty offices and janitor closets. Offices and other assorted rooms ran along both si
des of the long hall. Litter had been
strewn about
the white tile floor and
o
ffice furniture lay overturned
as the panicked
occupants scrambled towards the elevator.

At one end of the hallway was the sallyport leading into the laboratory.
At the op
posite end of the long hall,
an elevator with badly dented doors.

People were huddled along both
sides of the elevator which served as the only access portal to the sub-level third floor, coughing
and sneezing. They were exasperated, hungry, sick, and m
ost of all scared. Four
were soldiers and the rest w
ere virologist staff
.

One of the soldiers, Trent, stood
in front of the dented elevator doors holding an equally dented fir
e extinguisher. He breathed
heavy raspy breaths and
was
soaked with sweat. A blue band was wrapped around his right arm;
it said ‘MP
’ on it in
bold
white letters.

“
Attention, Attention
,” a pleasant artificial f
emale voice announced over the
alarm wails. “
Laboratory integr
ity compromised. Critical sally
port failure detected. Quarantine activated. Please proceed to the elevator and wait for evacuation
.”

“Goddamnit!”
Trent screamed. He
raised the fire extingu
isher above his head and slammed
it against the e
levator doors repeatedly
. “What are they going to do?! Let us rot down here?!” He dropped the extinguisher and collapsed onto his hands and knees, coughing violently.

“
You need to relax,” said a female scientist
who was obviously
not relaxed. “They are not
going to
just
leave us here! They can’
t!” She sat cross-legged on the floor and grasped her
cell phone with jittery hands; her face
was damp with fever-
sweat. She stared at
the cell phone and attempted
to ‘will’ the signal bars into exi
stence.

Another woman, opposite of the woman gripping the cell phone, rocked back and forth while
muttering nonse
nse.

Next to her, a man
in a
sweat-soaked lab
coat slipped in and out of consciousness while
slouched against the wall with his legs sprawled
in front of him
.

“Oh yeah?” Trent
snarled
. “Why do you think the elevator is
off? Why do you think they killed our Internet connections? Why do you think the phones are down?”  He stood
and
picked up the extinguisher
.

“
Attention. Atte
ntion.
Laboratory integr
ity compromised. Critical sally
port failure detected. Quarantine activated. Please proceed to the elevator and wait for evacuation.
”

“This is bullshit!”
Trent
th
rew the extinguisher
down the hallway. The valve flew off when it struck the floor and
a plume of white powder shot
into th
e air. The extinguisher skittered
down
the hall
towards the laborato
ry and struck the lab’s outer sealed doors with a hollow
CLANG
.

One of
the other soldiers, a burly MP
nicknamed ‘Gus’,
stood and grabbed Trent by the throat and pinned him
against the elevator doors, coughing.

“Knock that shit
off!” Gus screamed into Trent
’s face. “All you’re doing is getting everyone worked up!”

Trent
flushed from seething red to a terrified pale. He gagg
ed and Gus relaxed his grip
.

“
We are all in the same boat
. So shut the fuck up an
d sit down, Trent
!” Gus let go and sat back dow
n against the wall with a
raspy sigh.

“Fuck you!” Trent yelled, coughing,
and stormed off down the hall. He retreated into a restroom,
rubbing his red throat.

Behind the dented doors, the elevator
motors
hummed
.

“It’s moving,” one of the slouched scientists hoarsely announced as he staggered up to
his
feet.

The others stood and stared in silent unison with their bloodshot eyes focused on
the
elevator’s
floor indicator lamp as it
marked
the elevator’s descent. The only person who remained on the floo
r was a man who was unconscious; he was
slumped against the wall with his chin on his chest.

“Trent!” Gus
yelled, still staring
at the elevator. “Get your ass over here! Rescue is finally here!”
He erupted in a coughing spasm.

The crowd stepped back as the elevator doors slid open
and revealed six armed soldiers in white hazmat suits
. The two
opposing
groups stood in
silence, staring at each other.

The silence was broken by a raspy cough.

“It’s good to see you
guys
,” Gus said
, eying their M16s cautiously. A dribble of snot ran
freely from
both
of his nostrils.

Cpl.
Andrews, the lead soldier, slowly nodded his head and gave a
raspy
reply through his
suit’s
respirator.

“
Get on quickly,”
Cpl. Andrews
said and motioned for the other white-suited soldiers
to form up. The
white-suits
rushed
out of the elevator and took
positio
n behind the group of scientists and MPs in the hall, herding them
all
into t
he elevator at gunpoint.

“Someone grab him,” Cpl. Andrews said, pointing at the unconscious scientist.

Gus and another MP picked up the unconscious scientist by his arms and pulled
him into the elevator.

“We have another guy, Trent, he just went to the restroom,” Gus said, wheezing. “There may be others, too.”

“Don’t worry,” Cpl. Andrews said, “we’ll find them.”

Lloyd and
Patrick,
a newcomer to the 161
st
from Nebraska, aimed their weapons
towards the
BSL-4 laboratory doors at the
far end of
the hallway while the other
four white-suited
soldiers
kept their weapons turned towards
the group inside elevator
.

The group
in the elevator
watched the soldiers with
apprehension.

Trent stepp
ed out of the restroom and staggered out
in
to the middle of the hallway. Pleasant surprise washed over his sweaty
face. He ran towards the elevator, smiling almost hys
terically
.

“Contact
!” Patrick screamed, pointing his weapon at Trent.

Lloyd he
sitantly followed his lead, finger shaking on the trigger
.

They opened fire.

Trent jerked backwards and spiraled
down
against
the floor as
the
bullets
eviscerated
his chest.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Gus cried, reaching for his sidearm. The
other two
sick
MPs
inside the elevator with
Gus froze in shock. “We–
”

“Op
en fire,” Cpl. Andrews ordered.

The white-suits
opened fi
re into the elevator with no
prejudice, sweeping the
ir
rifle
s side-to-side, clasping them
tightly against their bulky
hazmat
suits.