Forest Park: A Zombie Novel (3 page)

Sergei didn’t answer.

“You’re making a mistake. If you want names, I have names… They’re to blame.”

Sergei, along with his squad, had suffered terribly after being captured by Chechen rebels who tortured them all for two horrific weeks at an abandoned farmhouse. They sliced off ears, and severed fingers --- but that was only the beginning. Sergei was the lone one to have escaped --- and relatively intact.

“You can’t blame me…”

“I do.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, nobody expected any of you to still be alive,” Konovo said. He was now pleading for his life, but he knew it was too late. His voice begun to trail off, and a puzzled, shocked expression spread across his ashen face. He began to feel heavy, as if the entire pull of the earth’s gravity had him gripped within its stony hands. I don’t deserve this. I didn’t ask for this. It’s not fair! Konovo’s mind raced.

In real-world time, it would have been an instant, but to Konovo it felt like an eternity, a new reality.

Sergei fired.

The bullet pierced Konovo’s forehead and exploded out from the back of his skull, leaving the human essence of the man splattered across the rear wall of the security office.

The young conscript that worked the security console watched in horror as Konovo dropped to his knees and then tip over backward. His empty head hit the floor with a faint thud.

Sergei swiftly swung his gun toward the conscript. “Get on your knees and face the wall, hands behind your head.”

The conscript did as he was ordered. His heart was beating a thousand times a minute, causing him to tremble uncontrollably. “Please don’t kill me.”

“Sorry,” Sergei said as he pulled the trigger one more time. Now it was time to wait.

INSIDE THE LABORATORY COMPLEX

After the Bio-door closed, the pungent smell of ammonia nearly overwhelmed the old general, who began to feel light-headed. Shapinkov raised a handkerchief to his mouth and nose, and tried to catch his breath.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Shapinkov nodded.

“You certainly don’t look too well,” Dr. Vatutan said.

“I’m fine...” Shapinkov said as he searched for somewhere to sit for a moment.

Discarded equipment lay everywhere. The laboratory was cluttered, but it appeared sanitary, with disinfected and shiny floors. The floor itself was partially hidden by stacked benches and unused chairs --- there were boxes piled in heaps, and small mounds of loose-leaf paper were slowly forming mini-mountains under circulating fans.

Dr. Vatutan explained that most of the stuff, as he called it, was from the other non-functioning laboratories. Eventually it was all being moved out to somewhere else, he explained to Shapinkov as he recovered his senses.

“Soon this will all be gone, demolished,” Dr. Vatutan said.

In front of the two men was a massive transparent wall, which ran from one end of the laboratory to the far side and from floor to ceiling. If it was any bigger, Shapinkov thought, China’s wall would have a rival.

Each of the four independent laboratories had a single entry and exit point, but while three doors remained wide open, one door on the extreme right remained closed. That was the door to laboratory-four.

“General, have you had any experience with Bio-chem labs?”

“A little, but it’s not really my field,” answered Shapinkov, who was still recovering his breath.

“I will try to explain how things work as simply as I can then. Firstly, we have Bio-level one, which relies on standard biological safety protocols such as washing your hands”, he said. “While Bio-safety level two, involves research on non-lethal viruses that people could contract during their normal everyday social interactions. At level three, we deal with the more exotic agents who have the potential for respiratory transmission, or put simply, airborne contagions --- diseases like tuberculosis and encephalitis. However, the star of them all is level four. It is level four that encompasses the more extreme life-threatening bugs, where no vaccine has yet been developed, and, as such, all personnel are required to wear a BSC full body personal suit, and other more specialized ventilation systems and decontamination rules are set in place. Who said science was boring?”

Shapinkov shrugged.

“The key to handling lethal contagions is secure containment. The last thing anyone would want is for any weapons-grade germs being released accidentally.”

“That would be a nightmare, Dr. Vatutan, accident or not,” Shapinkov said.

“Yes, I suppose, General. Have you heard of the town Yekaterinburg, by any chance?”

“No, should I have?”

“Well, it was a little before my time, and originally the town’s name was Sverdlosk. Does that name ring any bells, General?”

Shapinkov shook his head no.

“It was a Bio-weapons plant that was built...” Dr Vatutan thought about it for a moment, “around nineteen eighty-two, or three; it was one of the largest of the old Soviet germ installations. They called it the ‘Experimental and Production Base’ but in the West, it was simply known by its post office box number 2076. The plant was primarily used to produced anthrax and other bacteriological agents twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five days of the year. The main processing plant itself was six stories high, with ten fermentation tanks, each tank brewing over five thousand gallons of anthrax microbes, enough to kill everybody in the United States many times over.”

“It sounds like a dangerous place to be,” Shapinkov said.

“Indeed it was, especially when the air filtration system had a catastrophic failure, which resulted in the release of a moderate amount of anthrax microbes, causing the deaths of over seventy locals and hundreds of livestock, thirty miles from the core of the plant. I think the politburo was more upset about the loss of valuable livestock back in those days.”

Shapinkov didn’t laugh.

“As I said before, it’s all about containment. Sverdlosk, during its working life, produced over three hundred and thirty tons of anthrax every two hundred days, not a bad figure even by today’s standards.”

“Depending upon your point of view.”

“Indeed,” Dr Vatutan answered.

“Those were the days, General, back when the scientific community was ultimately considered an integral part of national defense. We had over sixty thousand scientists working non-stop producing weapons and their counter vaccines. What an exciting period of science, unlike today in some respects. I wish I could have seen us while we were producing at our peak.”

Then Dr Vatutan sighed. “But you don’t care about any of that; you’re here to supervise our final closure, I suspect. There was no need for you to come all the way down, General, there’s just the doctor and I left now, and we’re not a very exciting pair. I’m sorry but it appears as if you’ve wasted your time.”

THE DOCTOR

“The Aleksandr I know never wastes his time, Vatutan!” A large hulking man said, as he strode toward Dr. Vatutan and Shapinkov, re-buttoning his white lab coat.

The Doctor, as he was known, stood at least six feet six inches tall, his wide, sloping shoulders looked as if they could move mountains with ease. He was the product of the harsh Far Eastern Russian Steppes, with a tough masculine exterior, strong jaw line and wild eyebrows, coupled with a great wrinkled forehead. He was a formidable man. However, by far his most striking features were his piercing blue eyes, as intelligent as they were cold, just as Shapinkov remembered them.

“I see you have some new shoulder boards, Aleksandr, I have to say they suit you well. However, look at me, I’m still a humble colonel eking out a meager living deep in southern Georgia while you dance the nights away in Moscow enjoying the girls and swilling vodka. It makes me wonder if I chose the correct career path, my friend,” said the Doctor.

“Don’t tell me you’re still threatening to defect to Israel?” Shapinkov answered.

“Maybe one day? Now that the Workers’ Paradise has died a sorrowful death, never to see resurrection. However, what would Israel want with a broken down old warhorse like me?” He said.

The two old soldiers laughed, and then much to Vatutan’s surprise, both men approached each other and flung their arms around their large barrel-chested frames in a tight bear hug.

The Doctor, arching his back, lifted Shapinkov a few inches into the air with a hefty grunt.

“You’ve put on a little weight, Aleksandr, and as your doctor, I recommend some time away from the desk.”

The two then laughed as Vatutan watched the unusual scene feeling a little perplexed. He had never seen the Doctor behave in this way before. He was lively, joyful, and did he dare even think, happy?

“I hope my little man Vatutan hasn’t been boring you too much, Aleksandr. Young men like him are not like our generation; we’re overly lenient with them. We had a tougher upbringing. Everybody worked hard and without complaint, we struggled, but we maintained our self-respect and the respect of authority. However, young men these days don’t know the hard times, they’re too soft; some softer than others…” the Doctor said. When the Doctor finished speaking, he slapped Vatutan hard between the shoulder blades, knocking him forward a step or two.

Vatutan looked embarrassed as his face begun to glow red.

“Not at all, he’s been very informative about how things work around here.”

The Doctor laughed at Shapinkov’s response.

“Vatutan, you didn’t bore the poor man with policy and procedure, did you?”

“I gave him a simple orientation, if that’s what you mean,” Dr. Vatutan said.

The Doctor shook his head from side to side. “This man knows more about what we do in places like this than you do. Unlike many others in the old system, he didn’t rise to the top by cutting throats; this man got to the top by knowing his business.”

The Doctor put his arm around Dr. Vatutan’s shoulders and then pulled him close; like a drunk after a few drinks. “You’re a Ukrainian, Vatutan, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“Well, Vatutan, I would like you to meet the man who was responsible for the poisoning of Viktor Yushchencko.”

Vatutan’s eyes widened.

“With only a few drops of dioxin,” the Doctor continued, “your famous Orange Revolution leader never knew what hit him. Aleksandr is a legend, but most of his deeds aren’t public knowledge and nor will they ever be.”

“Indeed, but as you know, Doctor, that comes with the territory” said Shapinkov.

Crash!

NOISES

The sudden sound of something metal clattering to the floor inside of laboratory four caused the conversation to end abruptly.

“Doctor, we don’t have the time for this!”

The Doctor ignored Vatutan. The red warning light above the laboratories’ door started to flash intermittently. “Is that light supposed to flash like that?” Shapinkov asked.

“Doctor,” repeated Vatutan, as a low mournful groan could be heard coming from behind the closed door of laboratory four.

“Aleksandr, why are you here today? Nobody from Moscow had informed me that you were coming, and if you were anyone else, I would never have allowed access.” The Doctors tone had become even icier as he continued, “I know you’re not in Batumi for a holiday, Aleksandr, or to catch up on old times. What is it that has drawn you here?” Shapinkov didn’t answer, leaving the Doctor no other choice than to continue to press his old friend. “We’ve known each other for such a long time, and I know you’re not a man who uses his time unwisely. We owe each other the truth, don’t you think?”

“M.K II is the reason, if you wish the truth,” Shapinkov answered.

Vatutan’s face turned a deathly pale.

He knows, he knows, how does he know? He wanted to scream at the man,
how the fuck did you know about that? Who told you?

“Yes, the FSB General,” the Doctor said. “Just the same, your knowledge regarding this project is very surprising, few people know; I’d be surprised if Putin knew anything of it. Since the beginning, this entire operation’s been considered highly restricted and secret.”

The Doctor rubbed his chin aggressively as if it agitated him. He needed some time to think.
I owe the man, more than what he may need to know
. “But there is still no reason for you being here now, seeing that if you had full access, you could have simply requested the data, or you could have contacted me directly through the correct channels without the need to…” The Doctor paused for a moment. “But you’re not privy, are you? Not at all --- you’re taking a mighty big gamble, Aleksandr.”

“Does that matter?” Said Shapinkov. “You asked me for the truth just a few moments before, and now I would ask you for the same. If we have anything, we have honesty.” Shapinkov could see the strain reflect onto the Doctor’s face as he considered what he should do next.

“I should arrest you now,” the Doctor said.

“You should,” answered Shapinkov.

“Doctor, shall we?” Dr .Vatutan ventured.

The Doctor suddenly chuckled to himself. “You have balls, Aleksandr,” he said before he continued, “They don’t like being left alone, or at least they don’t like to have us out of their sight for any extended period of time.”

“Doctor, you can’t---” said Vatutan.

“Shut up, Doctor Vatutan! I have known this man for over twenty years, and I’m still firmly in control of this complex, at least until this place is shut down. Now shut up and let the men speak.”

“But this is outrageous; the man has no…”

“Either shut up, or get the hell out of my sight, Captain.”

Vatutan took a step backward. The Doctor was quick to temper, but he calmed down just as fast.

“Aleksandr, please come and sit with me.” The Doctor gestured toward some chairs. “Come and let me explain, my friend.”

EXPLANATIONS

“After the Soviet Union collapsed, the scientific fraternity continued on with weapon’s research. With scarcer funding, we had to evolve new strategies for the use of Pathogenic Weapons; you’ve participated in one aspect of this strategy, Viktor Yushchencko. However, after the collapse of the Biopreparat, our funding practically ceased, and most of our best research scientists left the program. How many companies or schools need an anthrax specialist, Aleksandr? They were dark days…”