Rise & Walk (Book 2): Pathogen (16 page)

“You’re gonna toss it? Over rows of those things, while hanging out the window?” Mason scoffed.  “You throw like a girl.”

Tony turned red.  Jack knew he had embarrassed Tony in front of his little friend, but it was also true.  Tony could throw a knife with a sixty-forty hit percentage, and he could shoot just fine, pistols better than long-guns, but anything sports related was out of the question.  It had something to do with Tony’s old man never wanting to throw the ball around with him as a kid.  Too bad if the truth hurt.

“I’ll do it,” Mason said.  “You’d better drive my truck and I’ll ride in the bed.  It’ll give me a good platform to throw from.”

Nikki looked to Tony.

“He’s right.  You’d be safe up here until we get back.” Tony said.  Her eyes pinched narrow and Mason decided that he had better things to do.

“I’m gonna do some shopping.”

Nikki’s eyes were locked on Tony, but she waited until Jack had descended back into the building.

“I’m going with you.” She said firmly.

“Okay, I just thought you’d be safer staying here.” Tony said.

“We’re safer together.” She emphasized then looked away, “You don’t always have to protect me.”

“I know.” His voice cracked as Nikki walked to the hatch.

*****

The creature’s hands swiped at the empty air while its body was held back by heavy iron bars.  Veronica hefted the broomstick and felt the area where she had attached the steak knife.  The electrical tape was tight and the blade secure.  She took a nervous look around her perimeter making sure that she was alone.  She walked forward into the camera’s view.

“The infected don’t seem to be affected by pain.”  Veronica said loudly while extending her makeshift spear.  The ghoul’s left hand caught the knife blade and grasped it roughly.  Veronica braced herself with both hands on the broomstick.  The serrated blade sliced into the palm of the ghoul’s hand as it tried to pull Veronica closer.  She grimaced as the blade slipped free, dirty with a thick dark fluid.  The creature continued its bloodthirsty growls with no indication of pain.  Veronica noticed that as it clawed for her, its left index finger remained open, and no longer moved with the rest.

“Must have severed a tendon there.”  She lifted the knife blade to the camera lens, “The blood is very viscous, much thicker than it should be.”   She looked at the blood on the stainless steel blade.  In the sunlight, she could see a faint greenish tinge.

“There’s a slight greenish color to the blood.  Subjects we saw two days ago, closer to initial exposure, also had greenish blood, though more so.  Their saliva was very green as well.  I wonder if this also diminishes with further generations of infection.”  She backed off a bit, wondering what she should do with her Knife-on-a-stick, medical implement since it was now contaminated. She drove the blade into the soft earth next to the driveway, leaving only part of the broom stick exposed.  She would have to remember to soak the blade in bleach or something before disposing of it later.

She focused the camera on the creature’s left hand.  Very little blood trickled from the open slice in its palm.

“They don’t bleed a great deal.  I don’t believe they have a heart beat.  Even when shot, the subjects exhibit very little bleeding, which may also indicate a lack of blood pressure.”  She widened the shot in the camera and paced away from the tripod, considering any other observations while the growling wore on her nerves.

“As you can tell from the racket, they’re able to move air in and out of their lungs; whether or not they need to is the question.  Is this part of some sort of existence sustaining process; some sort of respiration, or just vestigial muscular movement to express their wants through growls?”  Veronica paced back into the camera’s view.  She spoke directly to the lens; the action helping to refocus her efforts.

“Truth is, this is all just conjecture.  I have no real answers, just possibilities that bring with them more questions.  I’m hoping that understanding what is going on may lead to a way to undo whatever this is.  My guess is that we’re looking at some sort of blood born pathogen; a virus or bacteria that is transmitted in their bites or through other contamination.  If we can isolate the pathogen, perhaps we can create an antibody or a compound that can interrupt this reanimation.  But for now, the only solution we have is to quickly end their existence.”

Veronica lifted her shotgun and took aim. A moment passed, and then another.  She was disturbed by what she was about to do.  The ghoul needed to be killed; they all did.  She found herself feeling guilty about videotaping the event.  For a moment she questioned what real scientific value it may hold.  Perhaps she was just feeling self conscious about being on camera.  No, she decided it was worthwhile; who knows what thoughts a review of this information might give her.  She had to keep focused on solutions.  She lowered the shotgun and turned to the camera.

“They do need to be put down, with a shot to the head.  Whatever is going on reanimates their brain.  Maybe that’s why they still breathe.  Maybe it’s just the primitive side, the old brain, the medulla that handles all our autonomic systems?  I don’t know.  I do know that this was once a person.  A man named Malcolm who worked for WP&W, whatever that is, and I know he wouldn’t want to be left walking around like this.”  She paused for a moment and looked at the ghoul.  It growled and gnashed its teeth.  She turned back to the camera.

“No one would want to be like this.” She said and walked out of frame.

Veronica stood next to the camera.  She took aim at the flailing ghoul and fired.  A U-shaped groove tore into the top of its forehead with a greenish red spray.  The body collapsed.  Veronica entered the frame again and removed her glasses and bandanna.

“This is a real epidemic.  If we don’t deal with it; I could see this quickly getting away from us.”

She wiped her face with the bandana and left the camera’s view.

Twenty-Six

Nikki stood at the sales counter loading .380 rounds into the two magazines for Tony’s gun.  The men had spent almost a half-hour loading supplies into their vehicles.  She thought it happened to be a good thing that they now had two vehicles as the men wouldn’t have wanted to leave anything useful behind.  And it seemed that all sorts of things met their definition of useful.  She noticed that Tony kept checking on her as they worked.  A look here, a glace there, just to make sure she was close. With most of their loading done, Tony joined her. He placed one of the twenty-two rifles on the counter next to her and added three small boxes of bullets.

“Here, its loaded, safety’s on.  This is a good rifle. The bullets are tiny, so you can carry a lot, but they can do some weird things.”  Tony said frowning, “They can ricochet sometimes.  Even off bone if they hit right, so be prepared to shoot twice.”  He picked up a large duffle bag that he had filled with various types of ammunition.  Nikki noticed how he pretended that it wasn’t heavy.  He took the bag to the back.

“When you need something bigger, use the .380.  It’s got power, you’re used to it, and the size is perfect for you.   I want you to have it; for keeps.” He smiled and exited the showroom.  Nikki saw Jack crack a smile while examining some climbing equipment on the other side of the room.  She pushed a loaded magazine into the pistol, closed the slide, and checked the safety.  She aimed at the open window.  Tony was right, the .380 was perfect.  It had a lot of power but fit her hand perfectly.  She found it strange that he would have such a small gun.

“Why did he pick this gun?” She asked Jack.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s the right size for me, but it looks too small for him.”

“Yeah,” Jack laughed, “it is.” Jack looked at her and after a moment’s reluctance, decided to share.

“He’s always wanted the gun James Bond has in the movies, a Walther-PPK.  But they’re bank, like a grand or more.  So the sales-chick talked him into that one.”  Jack picked up two nasty looking hand axes and made a whistling sound of approval.

“I told him he should’ve waited and got the right one; but the sales-chick saw him coming.  A little flirting and he never had a chance.”

“Oh.” Nikki said.  She wanted to ask a question but wasn’t sure if she should.  She looked in the back to see if Tony was in the stockroom.

“Tony said he doesn’t have parents?” She shook her head looking to Jack for an answer.  He relaxed his neck and exhaled a slow breath.

“No… he does.” Jack said slowly looking at Nikki with an uncertain expression.  He shrugged and continued.

“Sanchez’s parents didn’t want him.”  Jack looked towards the back with a weary glance before continuing.

“They never outright said it.  But I don’t think they meant to have a kid.  They were weird; super religious so they had to keep him.  It was a pretty messed up childhood.  It’s probably why he spent so much time over at my place.”  Jack whispered.  He moved closer to Nikki to keep his voice low.

“And this is the worst part.” He bent down to speak while keeping his eyes on the rear door. “Right after high school; I’d say three months before he turned eighteen, his parents told him they were selling the house and that he’d have to find a place to live.”  Jack backed away nodding.  “That was some cold shit right there!”

“Why would they do that?” Nikki gasped, looking over her shoulder.

“He never fell for their religious crap.  They bought a big motor-home and are traveling the country preaching the gospel, delivering Bibles to El Salvador, or some shit like that.” Jack said and moved into an open area of the showroom.

Tony reentered the room.  Nikki hid her face and quickly tried to pretend that they weren’t talking about him.  She felt awful hearing about his parents. 
How did he turn out so normal
? She wondered.  Her parents were tough on her at times but she couldn’t imagine how lonely she’d feel without them.  She faked a look of normalcy and gave him a quick smile.  Tony motioned to Mason’s new toys.

“Climbing axes?” Tony asked.

“Ice climbing; I like ‘em!” Mason said and swung his right arm at an imaginary target with deft control while holding his left in a defensive manner.  Nikki saw him practice moves against an imaginary opponent.  She recognized the use the climbing tools could be as weapons and how practice could make her better in a fight.  She looked at Tony, at the various pouches and gear he had strapped to his chest.  The world had just gone completely insane and part of the reason she was still alive was because of these men; because of the way they think.  She shouldn’t have been looking for tennis shoes.  She should be looking for things to help her survive and ultimately, help her parents.

“Tony?” she said. He turned from Mason and as always, gave her his attention with an earnest smile.

“I saw some pads and safety stuff in the back.  Do you think you can help me pick out some things, equipment, and stuff, you know… like you guys have?”

Even Jack smiled at her request.  Tony was next to her in an instant.  He helped her pick a pair of boots, gloves, kneepads, elbow and forearm protection, and a thick black long-sleeved shirt.  There was no military equipment to be had but Tony found a kids hunting vest with many pockets that allowed her to carry her ammunition.  He attached a survival knife with a six inch blade that looked huge on her to a belt he added along with the holster for the .380.  He packed a smaller utility knife, two flashlights, glow sticks, waterproof matches and a small first aid kit in the pouches of her gear.  Tony also showed her how to use sponge-like earplugs to prevent hearing loss and packed a few extra pairs in her gear.  He quickly described each item’s function and why she might want it as she paid very close attention.

Nikki twisted around with her gear as if modeling a dress.  Tony nodded. 

“Okay now, swing your arms around.  Can you move them freely?” he asked.  She moved her arms over her head in a circle.

“Yeah,”

“Okay, draw your pistol, drop to a knee, and aim like there’s a bad guy over there.”

“Wait a sec.” she said and pulled her gloves from her belt.  She placed the right glove on a shelf and removed her knife.  Tony leaned over to see Nikki cut off the top half of the glove’s index finger just as he had done to his glove the day before.  She carefully re-sheathed her knife, snapped it secure, and put on the gloves.  Nikki turned to Tony and held up her hand, waving hello with her bare index finger.

“So I can shoot with them on.” She smiled.

“You’re learning.” He said with a broad smile.

She nodded and turned away from Tony.  She dropped to her right knee, drew her pistol and aimed.

“Okay, but try drawing while you drop; all in one motion, its faster that way.”

She nodded and stood while holstering her pistol.  Nikki stood for a moment concentrating.

“Take a deep breath and clear your mind.  Lots of bad things might be going on, just try to stay focused.”

Nikki drew the pistol with her right hand while dropping to a knee.  Her hands met, steadying the gun while she pulled the hammer back and pointed at an imaginary target.

“That’s my little Rambo.” Tony couldn’t hide his smile.

Nikki carefully released the hammer of the pistol and engaged the safety.  Holstering the weapon she turned to Tony.

“I don’t like the arm pads.”  She said adjusting the fit on her forearm.  “They’re kinda bulky.”

“Take ‘em off then.  Your mobility is the most important thing.”

Nikki discarded the pads and patted her hands over her gear.  Everything was secure and felt good.  Mason entered the store room with a duffle bag.  He looked at her with a vague sort of approval.  Nikki nodded once and then motioned towards Tony who was oblivious to the exchange.  She mouthed the words, ‘Thank you’ to Mason who squinted with a reluctant acknowledgement.

“Come on, we’re wasting daylight.” Mason said.