Outbreak (Book 2): The Mutation (4 page)

Fort Hood had housed over 53,000 soldiers and civilian employees, and over three-fourths of them had become infected. Butsko and Wilder hadn’t been present at the time of the massacre, but had heard nightmarish stories of how fast the infection had spread. Scientists at the SilsAdvanced Research Facilit
y(
where Butsko and Wilder had been stationed
)
estimated that it took around fifteen to twenty minutes after exposure for the infection to kill the subject, and then another ten for reanimation.

From the reports of the Fort Hood massacre, people had died and had come back to life in minutes. Containment had been impossible.

Three jet fighters had scrambled from the nearby naval air station in Kingsville but had never made it to Fort Hood. The air traffic controllers at Kingsville had sat there helplessly as they listened to the fighter pilots scream as they crashed to the ground. Birds had brought down the jets by flying directly into the engines. Most of the air traffic controllers considered it a freak accident, but there were others who thought it was
too
frea
k
an accident, and suggested that the birds had purposefully taken down those jets.

Due to the failed bombing run, scores of infected humans and animals had escaped into the general population. Fort Hood was sixty miles from Austin and about one-hundred-and-fifty-seven from Dallas. It had been a nightmarish situation.

By the time the Sils Advanced Research Facility was destroyed, Butsko had learned that Fort Hood had fallen to the zombies, and was now just a smoldering combat site overrun by the reanimated bodies of the infected. Butsko, however, had nowhere else to go. He, Wilder, and the remaining survivors from Sils had headed to Fort Hood. Once there, Butsko had organized everyone, and put together a plan to secure the base. After wiping out the remaining infected, they’d checked their supplies and cordoned off most of the base. Fort Hood was now a fraction of its former size and was more manageable to defend.

That had been two years ago. Today, Fort Hood had a little over a thousand soldiers and around five-hundred civilians within its walls. Everyone contributed, and everyone fought. Butsko and Wilder had set up training programs that taught civilians how to fight hand-to-hand and how to handle various types of weapons. When the world became a battlefield, everyone was a soldier. You either learned to fight, or you died.

*****

Wilder made his way to Butsko’s command office and gave Butsko a sharp salute as he entered the room.

“Good to see you back, soldier,
”
Butsko said as Wilder sat down.

“That was a rough one, Sir,
”
Wilder said.

“I know,
”
Butsko sympathized, “and I hope you enjoyed it, because that was your last running mission.”

Wilder’s eyes perked up. After the first few successful ‘running missions,
’
as they’d come to be called, word had spread of their success, and many military-based operations still functioning in Texas, Arkansas, and Florida had begun to carry out similar missions based on Butsko’s recommendations.

“What happened?
”
Wilder asked, already knowing the answer.

“They
…
learned,
”
was all Butsko said.

“Learned?
”
Wilder asked. “What the hell did they learn?”

“They learned to stop chasing soldiers into an abandoned building,
”
Butsko responded as he met Wilder’s eyes.

“But how?
”
Wilder asked, not knowing if he really wanted to hear the answer.

“We’re not sure of the exact details, Dan,
”
Butsko said. “All we know is that the base in Eglin was doing their first running mission and everything went pear-shaped.”

“Wait,
”
Wilder said, almost cutting Butsko off. “It was their first running mission?”

Butsko nodded.

“Then how the hell did the zombies ‘learn
’
anything?
”
Wilder asked.

“I’ve been asking myself that exact same question, Dan,
”
Butsko said as he stood and walked over the map of the U.S. on the wall.

“It happened here,
”
Butsko said, pointing to a black-tipped pin sticking in the map. The pin was near the Eglin Air Force Base about three miles southwest of Valparaiso, Florida.

“Was the base attacked?
”
Wilder asked, the concern in his voice noticeable. The majority of the military bases in the U.S. had been completely wiped out. The few that had made it were damaged and were barely functional. The last thing they needed was to be attacked by a large group of the infected.

“The base was completely wiped out,
”
Butsko said somberly. “The only details I managed to get was that Eglin was carrying out their first running mission into a small hanger by the airport. Everything had been going exactly according to plan.
”
Butsko stared at his hands as he related the story to Wilder.

“Just as their runner entered the hanger, a group of infected branched off and ambushed the soldier guarding the back door,
”
Butsko said.

Wilder looked at Butsko with heavy eyes.

“The runner had no escape and was torn apart,
”
Butsko said. “Every soldier around the hanger was slaughtered. It was like the zombies knew they were there.”

“What about snipers and other supporting soldiers?
”
Wilder asked, hoping to get some good news.

“Those details are unknown,
”
Butsko responded. “But I knew Colonel Wolfe, and just like us, he’d never endanger any of his soldiers or civilians by not providing the proper backup.”

“How did you find out these details?
”
Wilder asked.

“Wolfe managed to relay some intel over the CB radio before…
”
Butsko hesitated. “Before he was torn apart.
”
Butsko then looked straight at Wilder: “I heard those fucking things as they tore him apart, Dan. He could’ve saved himself, but I think he was trying to warn us of something.”

“Are you sure the entire base was wiped out?
”
Wilder pressed on. “Should we mount a search and rescue mission?”

“You know we don’t have the manpower or the means for a search and rescue, Wilder!
”
Butsko barked back at him. “We’re barely holding our shit together as it is.”

Wilder knew Butsko was upset and blamed himself for the massacre at Eglin, but they needed to know more about what went down. He waited for Butsko to regain his composure.

“The base is gone,
”
Butsko said after a minute of silence. “There’s a small pocket of survivors at what remains of the Maxwell-Gunter Air Force Base in Alabama. I’ve been in communication with them for about two weeks.”

Butsko stood with both fists resting on his desk. Wilder only saw Butsko like this a few times before. He knew Butsko was hurting, but he also knew Butsko didn’t know what to do next, and that’s what pissed Butsko off. Wilder waited for him to continue.

“I managed to talk Maxwell’s C.O. into flying a drone over Eglin,
”
Butsko finally said. “They picked up nothing but the infected over every square inch of the base. If there were any survivors hidden away, you and I both know they’ll be long dead before we can get to them.”

“Jesus Christ!
”
Wilder shot back at him. “We have to at least try, don’t we?
”
he asked as he looked into Butsko’s eyes.

“Come on, Wilder! Don’t you think I’ve already considered that option? We’re down to somewhere between 1,250 to 1,500 survivors at this base, and the civilians are starting to outnumber the trained soldiers.”

Wilder knew he was right, but it didn’t sit easy with him knowing that there could be people in danger and dying, and his hands and feet were tied.

“Tell me this,
”
Wilder pondered. “How did those things know the running mission was a trap if that was the first running mission they ran?”

“I don’t know,
”
Butsko said.

“How did these fuckers learn about a running mission before one was ever carried out?
”
Wilder asked rhetorically. “We know the cause of this mess isn’t a virus or a parasite, right?”

“We don’t know much, but that much is true,
”
Butsko agreed.

“A virus was used as a delivery system to introduce bio-nanotechnology into injured soldiers
’
bodies,
”
Wilder continued. “These nanites are essentially mechanical, right?”

“That’s where things get muddy,
”
Butsko said. “They started off as machines, yes. But before we got wiped out at the Sils lab, the eggheads said there was evidence the machines—the nanites—were fusing with the body’s biology, and becoming essentially one creature.”

Wilder walked over to the window, trying to process what Butsko had told him. Punching the wall next to the window, Wilder inhaled deeply.

“What is it?
”
Butsko asked.

“This is crazy,
”
Wilder said, not directing his thought to Butsko. “What if, and this is a huge ‘what if,
’
George
…
what if the nanites were able to communicate with each other?”

“‘Communicate,’
”
Butsko repeated. “What the hell are you talk…”

Wilder stared at Butsko with wide-open eyes as they both chewed on what he was proposing.

“If you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting…
”
Butsko said as he sat down in his chair, letting his thought trail off.

“Then we’re fucked even more than we once thought,
”
Wilder said, finishing Butsko’s thought.

The men looked at each other hoping one would find a flaw in the theory.

4

Will to Heal Center

Spicewood, TX

Walt woke up the next morning still holding Stevie.

Each morning Walt rose from bed and looked out the window at the beautiful scenery that surrounded the Will to Heal center, and for a split second he convinced himself that everything would be okay. As he stretched this morning and his eyes made their way to the window, he realized those days were over.  The ugly wooden boards where the glass used to be always sent a different message.

There’s no hope for us
, the voice in Walt’s head lamented. He knew the world would never be able to go back to how it was two years ago.

*****

Walt walked to the dining area of the rehab center and marveled at how this small group of junkies and drunks, himself included, had managed to hold it together for the last two years.

Will to Heal had been a new approach to treating addiction, and many of the experts in the field had laughed at what he tried to accomplish. Results, though, were the only things Walt cared about, and he’d seen the same result time and again as each of his patients got and stayed clean.

From his own experiences, he knew how hard it was to remain sober. While in various rehab facilities there were no temptations, and everywhere you went you had nothing but support. You had trained counselors ready to talk with and support you twenty-four hours a day, and you also had the combined strength of others who were also trying to clean up their lives. But once you left the facility and returned to reality, it was tough.

Really tough.

Old friends would look you up to go party with them; places wouldn’t hire you because of your criminal record; family disowned you because you lied to them one time too many. All you had out in the real world were meetings. No matter if they were Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous, they all spouted the same thing:

Rely in your Higher Power,
said the voice of hundreds of counselors and people in recovery.

This is the ‘cure’
? Walt had thought. In a world full of technology and scientific breakthroughs, a ‘Higher Power
’
was all that was offered to addicts?

That wasn’t good enough for him, and he knew that addicts deserved better.

Walt could remember plenty of times when he thought of a ‘Higher Power
’
as he’d stumbled in his recovery. As far as he was concerned, his ‘Higher Power
’
had helped guide the needle back into his arm.

“Hey Walt,
”
Cheryl said cheerily as he walked by her in the dining room. “How’s that new window treating you?”