LZR-1143: Evolution (7 page)

“I don’t know, I was feeling feverish and then ... I don’t know! Maybe it was some sort of delayed reaction to getting bitten or something, maybe related to my body fighting off the infection for the first time. Who the hell knows? Shit. How long have I been out? And how the hell did this happen?”

I tried to nod in the direction of the twitching zombie, but my head wouldn’t cooperate.

“About eight hours. Didn’t you hear anything?” Kate asked. I could hear her shortened breath as she moved against her restraints.

“Just snippets and weird pieces of conversation.”

I was watching our friend across the room. She was still kicking and bulging against the straps. Her head rotated wildly as she thrashed against the cot. Her left arm grasped the air, and her bed was rocking gently.

It moved slightly as her momentum jerked the frame.

“After they found you, they found the vaccine. They thought it was a miracle cure, and the Captain started to order injections.”

I glanced at our friend, who was moving the bed slowly. It rocked more severely as she thrashed, threatening to spill her to the floor.

Her voice was resigned, sad. I knew what she was trying to say, even though she didn’t say it.

“How many did they inject?”

After a few seconds of silence, the answer I knew was coming.

“I don’t know. Enough, apparently. I’ve been tied up here since they found you. They did most of the injections in the other room and in other parts of the ship. The Captain was forceful about it. The doctor wanted to do trials, test it out a little. The Captain wouldn’t hear it. He ordered it diluted and given wide distribution immediately. I heard at least a hundred people come through while I was laying here. Maybe more. The shit really hit the fan about three hours ago, not more than two hours after the first injections.”

Her voice was tired.

“I haven’t seen or heard anyone—any
living
one, that is—for at least an hour.”

From outside the hatch, a sudden loud pounding. The metal vibrated and the room shook with the insistent slamming against the metal bulkhead. A groan could barely be heard from the opposite side of the metal door, clearly marking who was trying to get inside.

“Well, shit,” said Kate, collapsing in her bonds in resignation. “We are truly in a situation here.”

“Yeah … well. At least the guy outside doesn’t know how to use the door latch.”

As I spoke, the cot on the far side of the room toppled to the floor, overturning and sending its occupant face-first into the steel floor. We heard the fleshy sound she made as she slammed into the ground and the crack of her nose breaking against the steel. Her groan was muffled by the cold floor, as she tried to move.

Then we heard a sound more terrifying. Fingernails against the steel floor, and the scrape of a cot being dragged slowly by one arm. Neither of us could see what was happening at floor level, heads restrained from full movement by our bodies’ confinement, but we knew what she was doing.

“Shit.” I said softly, truly straining against the plastic and leather bonds holding my arms. Remarkably, I thought I felt one give way slightly, but only by millimeters. Not fast enough, if she were able to get here within an hour.

The pounding outside increased, as if our friend in the hallway could sense our plight. As if it could sense it’s comrade’s impending victory.

“Mike, can you see her?” Kate’s voice was wild, intense.

“No, but I can hear her.” The cot was dragging slowly, relentlessly. The metal frame ground against the floor in spurts of activity.

Screech.

Thump.

Screech.

Thump.

From outside, the metal of the door was shaking. The moan was vivid and loud, permeated by hunger and desire.

Screech.

“Mike?”

Thump.

I pulled back as hard as I could on my right hand, willing the strap to break. In my fear and hope, I imagined I heard the sound of fabric tearing ever so slightly. But I knew it couldn’t be; the restraints were far stronger than I was.

Screech.

“I think she’s getting close, Mike. You got any ideas?”

Thump.

No, I bloody didn’t.

I was just going to keep pulling, thank you very much.

Screech.

I waited for it.

No thump. But there was the sound of a hand slapping against the floor and pulling forward.

That meant…

Oh boy.

My bed shook as her gurgling moan sounded from beneath my head; I tilted suddenly to the right. I could feel the weight against the frame.

A hand snaked up from below, grasping my arm in a vice-like grip.

From outside, a loud and sudden thunder against the door. Then, dreadfully, the sound of the hatch being slowly turned from outside. The circular latching mechanism turned, squeaking against its housing.

A head appeared slowly from beneath me, desperately trying to follow the hand. Hair, then a forehead. Then red-rimmed, white eyes.

Unstaring, unblinking, unfeeling.

From the floor, a cracking sound as she contorted impossibly to reach my arm and her spine snapped at the hip from the exertion.

Her head slammed against the side of the bed, hand locked in a death grip on my arm, mouth moving soundlessly, teeth grinding against themselves.

From the doorway, the clanging metallic sound of the hatch being thrown against the wall. Kate screamed.

The zombie’s mouth opened, thrusting forward hungrily. Inches away, the gray skin of the cheek crept along the cheap white linen, smearing drool and puss along the bed clothes.

The hand gripped my arm tightly, drawing blood.

I closed my eyes, expecting the pain.

Suddenly, a gunshot ripped through the small space, echoing in the metal room, and I felt the warm liquid of the female crew member splatter against my face. Looking up quickly, I smiled as I hear Kate sigh loudly and curse under her breath. I let my head slam back against the cot as I heard his voice—his beautiful, disgustingly accented, oddly lilting voice. Like a choir of prissy angels, he spoke, half-jokingly.

“Seriously, mate. How do you find yourself in positions like this? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were testing me.”

Chapter 8

I grinned as I brought my hand to my face, wiping the cold sweat away from my brow and the crimson blood from my cheek.

“No, if I were testing you, I’d ask you to speak real English, not that weirdo Queen-English stuff you spout off.”

“It’s Queen’s, possessory, not Queen, descriptive,” he said defensively, walking over to my bed and leaning over my ankles to undo the straps. His hands paused briefly. His face was haggard, but his smile was real. “I could just leave you tied up while we talked about it?”

“No, quite all right my good chap, cheerio, pip-pip!”

My English accent was horrendous, and his face showed it.

“So you managed to get one hand free, eh?” He asked as he finished with the ankles and moved to my left hand.

I started, surprised as I passed my hand in front of my face. I looked down to the thick plastic and metal straps, meant to hold far stronger men than me to the table. The cuff was torn raggedly from edge to edge, and now hung from the table, useless.

That was strange.

“I guess so,” I said, still confused. “It must have been old or torn or something.”

“What’s it look like out there?” Kate said, moving to the doorway and peering out into the hall. “Anyone left alive?”

Hartliss shook his head as he turned around. I rubbed my wrists, trying to get the blood flowing again. My legs were wobbly as I took my first step, stumbling slightly as I gained my balance.

“Not bloody many,” he said, looking down the hallway.

“How’d you get loose? I mean, do you remember what happened?”

He nodded and frowned.

“I woke up and all these blokes were clustered around my bed. They ran all these bloody tests on me, and eventually sent me to the galley for some food. They sent an escort, but after the crap hit the rotary, they had bigger fish to fry. I met up with some blokes in one of the hangar bays, and worked out an arrangement to get us off this bloody hulk.”

He gestured toward the surface.

“There’s two SEAL teams on deck staging to evac, but they’ve got one pilot and two birds. I told them I’d be happy to saddle up, in exchange for a little help.”

He grinned boyishly.

I looked through the open door, then back to Hartliss. “You mean you brought SEALs to the rescue?”

He shrugged, then shook his head. “Not all the way, but they helped me secure a choke point at the upper stairwell and are keeping the other flight deck entrances contained. For now. Keep in mind this ship holds thousands of sailors and marines, so if we’re bloody done chatting ...”

He turned to the door and popped the magazine out of his pistol to check his ammunition.

“I’ve got 5 rounds left; used up a healthy portion getting down here, but I came through the galley. They were bloody everywhere in the galley. We’re going to go back up through the gym, the officers quarters, and the machine shop, okay?”

I nodded, not knowing my way around. Kate moved forward, already prepared to leave.

Suddenly, I remembered the vaccine. Scanning the room frantically, I began rifling through papers and opening cabinet doors. Kate understood, turning to Hartliss.

“What about the vaccine? The blue vial. Did you see what happened to it?” Her voice was slow and deliberate, as if expecting bad news.

Hartliss sighed once, and I turned in time to see him shake his head. “No clue. The Captain was obsessed with the damn stuff, so I can’t imagine that he let it too far out of his sight. But there can’t be much left, right? They must have dosed hundreds of stupid buggers before the shit got messy, eh?”

“It only takes a small dose—there could be enough left.”

I realized Hartliss was right; if Allred had truly taken an interest in the stuff, he wouldn’t let it out of his sight. Even after the shit hit the fan.

That meant I needed to get to the bridge.

I looked around briefly, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon. Chairs and desks were bolted down, and other than scalpels in the surgical case, there was nothing helpful. I left the operating instruments alone—a one inch scalpel wasn’t going to help against a zombie.

“When we get topside, I’m going to the bridge,” I said, as we moved toward the door. Kate turned, her big eyes narrowing.

“I thought we just barely established that you’re not crazy?”

I smiled briefly, “I don’t think we did. But that’s beside the point. If we lose that vaccine, everything we’ve done so far is for naught. We have to get that to people who can help. If we don’t, we might as well go down with the ship, because none of this matters.” I couldn’t help but raise my voice. I knew that it was true.

She simply stared into my eyes. I wanted to turn to jelly, she was so beautiful.

I nodded once, taking her silence as agreement, and reached out, squeezing her arm reassuringly and smiling.

“Remember, I’m a movie star. I’m too pretty to die.” I flashed my teeth in a stupid grin.

She frowned, one eyebrow lifting up skeptically. “Or something like that.”

Or something like that indeed.

Moving into the hallway, Hartliss led, pistol raised and eyes alert. Kate followed, hand on his shoulder. The interior hallway was brightly lit and noises echoed throughout. Bumps and crashes from above; hissing steam and liquid passing through numerous pipes along the walls; our own footsteps, hollow on the metal floor. Ahead, more open hatchways leading deeper into the vessel. Doors on the left and right were all shut, rounded rectangular latches all secured.

We reached a narrow stairwell, ducking as we followed Hartliss’s waving hand, motioning for us to follow. Stepping carefully on the latticed metal stairwell, we moved cautiously, listening for sounds of pursuit. Below us, a hatch clanged against a wall loudly, and the sound of movement filtered up, echoing in the small space. A low, guttural moan sounded from beneath our feet.

Kate turned to me, and I quickly held up one finger in front of my lips, signaling quiet. Her eyes narrowed, and she nodded. We all moved quicker.

Two floors up, Hartliss stopped before a closed hatch. Leaning forward, he whispered, “This is one of the crew gyms, and it leads to the officers quarters, then the stairwell up through the machine shop. From there, we exit onto the flight deck. So we open her quickly, and we peek in, all right?”

Sounded fine if you had the gun, I supposed. But for lack of a better option, I nodded. Kate’s nod followed mine.

Hartliss turned back to the hatch and spun the circular latch, pulling the door into the hallway and leading into the room with his gun. A second later, he gave the all clear and Kate followed behind. I stepped forward, moving to close the door.

Above us, I heard the sounds of footfalls as if several people had entered the stairwell. Through the wire mesh ceiling, a drop of blood fell against my arm. Despite myself I cursed, loudly. The movement intensified, and I looked up, seeing several forms shambling down the stairs. One stumbled and toppled clumsily down a flight of stairs, landing impossibly contorted merely one flight up.

Nothing but a low moan and more movement followed.

Those weren’t sailors. At least, not any more.

I slammed the door shut and jumped into the gym.

It was deserted, but recently so. Only one light remained functional, two others having been destroyed somehow, and now hanging by their wires from the ceiling, flashing light giving the room an eerie strobe light effect.

In a corner near the leg press machine, a crumpled, mangled body in military PT clothes was a bloody pulp of destroyed humanity. Another body of the undead variety lay bent over the stack of plates inside the vertical incline press, head smashed underneath a hundred pounds of weight, body still twitching slightly on the rubber floor.

The doorway on the opposite side of the room yawned into the hallway, hatch propped halfway open by the body of a woman in a towel whose arm had been torn from her shoulder. Miraculously, the towel was in place.