The Demented Z (Book 3): Contagion (11 page)

“The fires?”

“Yeah, they piled bodies in infected houses and lit ‘em up.” He nodded
toward Kelly. “Surprised they didn’t
kill you, let alone allow you to stay.”

Kelly relayed the confrontation she had with the guards.

Isaac nodded as she spoke and his face turned sour at the
mention of Miles. “Miles is –“

Before he could finish, the door burst open and a man in
black fatigues stepped in with his rifle out.  
Once inside he turned and nodded to someone just out of sight.
  A few moments later Miles strolled into the
small trailer.

He glanced over at Isaac and then turned to the other
man. “Why did you situate them in with
this rubbish?”

The man opened his mouth to say something.

  “That was
rhetorical.” Miles said before turning
to Kelly and Sam. His white teeth glowed
with a huge smile. “I am so sorry.
  This is no way for new guests to be
welcomed. Follow me, we will find you
more hospitable accommodations.” He
stood for a moment. “You can stay at my
place.”

Hank rolled to the side just as the first body slammed into
the snow next to him. White powder shot
into the air from the impact. Before he
had time to move another body crashed on top of the first.
  Hank reached for his rifle, but found he had
lost it in the fall. It now lay hidden
in the deep snow somewhere. Deciding he
would rather not draw any more attention than he already had, Hank grabbed his
Kabar and lunged for the top demented.
  Having landed on top of his partner, he had
survived the impact a little better and was beginning to rise to his
knees. Hank plunged the knife into the
side of his head, ending the movement.

He turned his attention to the demented that still lay on
the ground. This one’s neck twisted at
an awkward angle and he remained motionless.

Thump.

Hank jumped at the noise of another one crashing to the
ground. This one landed just behind him,
nearly hitting his legs. His stomach
turned when he saw that it was a young kid, probably only seven or eight.
  He had gotten used to most everything a
person could come across…except this.  
Seeing kids that had turned was gut wrenching.
  Nobody deserved to turn, but kids should
never get the hatred that came with the infection.
  Hank jammed the knife into the boy’s head,
burying the blade all the way to the hilt.  
Hot vomit rose in his throat. He
quickly yanked the blade free and turned away.

Above him it sounded like the infected were tearing the room
apart in search of their prey.
“Takes more than that to get old Hank.”
  He whispered to himself.

He searched the snow for his rifle.
  The deep powder had swallowed it up.
  Down on his hands and knees, he felt all
around, but came up empty. Not liking
being directly under the window slide, he decided to move on before more
infected rained down on top of him. He
looked down at the bloody knife and his mind flashed back to Charlie.
 
How
contagious is the infection?
He
wiped the blood off on one of the infected’s shirts
and then rolled it in the powdery snow.
There, sterile as a surgeon’s instruments.

Hank sheathed the blade and tucked in next to the wall,
sliding along the outside of the building.  
He knew the infected might only be one of the threats still remaining.

******

“Think it will ever be safe to leave?”
  Hannah whispered.

Tom had his flashlight out and was checking the contents of
the shelves that ran along the walls of the walk-in freezer.
  “Not completely safe, but they will at least
calm down.”

“How do we know when?”

“That’s the million dollar question isn’t it?
  I like to think we’ll know, but in this sound
proofed thing it’s tough to tell.” Tom
continued thumbing through boxes of spoiled food.
  “We can’t stay much
longer…not sure how much air we have in here.”

“Stinks like road kill.”

“Yeah, no doubt.”

“So what do you miss the most…before all this?”

Tom stopped and looked up at the ceiling absently.
  “Movies.”
  He turned to Hannah.
  “I used to love kicking back on the couch,
making popcorn…not the microwave stuff, but real popcorn, crack a soda, and
just get away.” He stared off at nothing
in particular, a slight grin crossing his face.  
“I miss that a lot.
You?”

“You’re going to laugh.”

“Can’t be any sillier than movies.”

Hannah let out a laugh.  
“Good point. Beer…I miss
beer. When I first joined the force,
me and a couple other rookies would go out for drinks every
Friday night. Nothing
crazy…more of a cop pow -wow.
  How we were going to change everything…make
things better.” She grinned and
chuckled. “Batman and
all that.”

“I have a lot of respect for police officers.
  Never knew how they could have the guts to go
up to car windows. Every stop could be
some psycho.”

“I’ve never told anyone this, but I loved it.”
  She shook her head.
  “Not pulling people over, but the thrill of…I
don’t know how to say it…thrill of death I guess.”

“The adrenaline?”

“That’s some of it, but there is more to it.
  Maybe almost dying makes me feel more
alive. Don’t take this wrong…I don’t
mean it cold hearted toward those that have died.”
  After Tom nodded she went on.
  “The most alive I have ever felt is after the
infection hit.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I just…just don’t want to make it seem like I revel in all
the deaths. Like I
enjoy their suffering.”

“The people that see what you do for others know better.”

She wiped her eyes with her sleeves, not wanting Tom to see
her tears. “Thanks.”

“I think it’s time we get out of here.”

******

Hank was at the tower’s corner when he saw movement between
a pair of buildings near the far hillside.  
There were two forms crouched low, moving quickly.
  April’s small form was easy to
recognize.
Why did they leave their room?  
Where are they going?
Hank
stood in place trying to decide if he should get their attention or quietly
wish them good riddance. He would be
more than happy to never see Axel again, but he worried for April.
  She deserved better than him.

They both disappeared behind the next building.
  Hank decided this was decision enough.
  He made his way around the corner, leaving
them to their own fate.

In front of him rose a short set of steps that led to a pair
of wide open doors. Hank could see
movement in the darkness beyond. He had
no idea what happened to Tom and Hannah.  
Not wanting to stay out in the open any longer Hank decided to get to a
different building. He only had a pistol
with maybe twenty rounds and a crossbow with two bolts.
  Not enough for a sustained fight.
  He ran in a low crouch across open space.
  In front of him stood the building he shot the
man in. It had to be his best bet for an
empty refuge.

At the corner still lay one of the two men he had shot.
  Hank holstered his pistol and searched the
body for anything of use. He felt like a
kid in a candy store when he was able to grab two grenades, a fully auto M4,
and a couple spare magazines. With a
flick of his finger he dropped the mag out of the M4 and hefted it, feeling its
weight. He guessed it to be at least
half full. Things were looking better.

With a hard slap, Hank seated the mag back in the well.
  He checked the chamber to make sure a round
was already loaded, and then moved around the corner toward the back of the
building. Halfway down the wall he found
the door that the other man had likely entered through.
  Not certain the interior would be
empty, Hank slung the rifle over his shoulder and unclipped
his crossbow and loaded a bolt.

As quietly as possible he twisted the door handle and slowly
swung it outward while keeping his crossbow trained on the opening.
  A narrow hallway lined with dusty boxes
extended into the darkness. Seeing no
movement, Hank eased inside and closed the door behind him.
  He waited several seconds for his eyes to
adjust to the dim light and then started down the hall, stepping between boxes.

He reached the intersection at the main hall when gunfire
erupted somewhere outside. The shots
were sporadic. Hank knew this had to be
Tom or Hannah. No longer taking his
time, he turned down the main hall and ran for the front of the building.
  Just before reaching the entrance doors, he
turned into the last room and found the dead military man lying on the floor at
the base of a broken out window.

The gunfire became more erratic, almost panicked.

Hank rushed up to the window.
  The shots were loud and clearly coming from
within the wide open double doors that led inside the main building.
  He unslung his rifle and peered through the
scope. There was movement, but the
interior was too dark to distinguish targets.  
“Ahhh, come on.”
  He cursed.

As the shots continued, he raced back into the hall and out
the front door. He heard shouting as he
sprinted across the span between buildings.

“Loading!”
  Hannah shouted.

“Jam, jam.”
  Tom shouted immediately after.

The shots stopped. An
eerie silence followed, only broken by the growls of demented.

Hank flew up the front steps holding his rifle out at the
ready. The sharp
pops
of pistol fire rang out.

“Too many.”
  Tom shouted.

The darkness was initially disorienting as Hank raced into
the cafeteria. Just inside, he dropped
to a knee and tried to focus on the shifting shadows.
  His eyes quickly adjusted and he could make
out the demented that were racing across the cafeteria toward the kitchen on
the side. Several were nearing the long
stainless steel counter and more were continuing to pour in from the far
entrance doors.

Not wanting to rip through ammo, Hank flicked the rifle to
single shot. Sighting on those nearest
the kitchen, he began squeezing the trigger, dropping one after another.
  Brass shell casings bounced off the side of
the door and rolled up against his boots.  
Many of the demented were drawn to the new gunfire.
  Shrieks of rage echoed across the open
space. Hank continued to unleash round
after round. It didn’t take long and his
weapon ran dry. A wall
of demented were racing his way.  
He clicked the mag release and reached for a fresh mag in his vest
pouch. It slipped out of his fingers and
clattered to the ground. He tried to
keep his mind off of how close the infected were.

The pistol fire had come to a stop, but was replaced by the
loud
crack
of rifle fire.
  A couple demented came crashing to the floor
directly in front of Hank. He finally
slammed the fresh mag home and charged the M4.  
He flicked the weapon over to full auto and unleashed on the charging
demented. They fell before his onslaught
like wheat before a sickle. He ripped
through the thirty round mag in a flash.
  Two demented still sprinted his way.
  Two loud cracks and both of them dropped to
the floor.

Hank quickly loaded his last magazine and scanned the
cafeteria. No movement.
  He stood and closed the entrance doors behind
him, not wanting any surprises.

Tom and Hannah stepped out from behind the serving counter.
  “Boy is it good to see you.”
  Tom said.

“Our knight in shining armor.”
  Hannah added.

Hank chuckled. “I
could say the same about you two.” He
walked up to them. “Whoa, you two stink
like maggot farts.”

Tom glanced back toward the kitchen.
  “Yeah, we spent some quality time in a dark
freezer.”

Hank let out a low whistle.  
“Woot …honeymoon.”
  He said with a grin.
  With a look up at the ceiling Hank added,
“It’s a freak show up there. I don’t
know what they were doing here, but either they knew more than we think or they
were a bunch of psychos.”

Tom nodded his head.  
“I’m leaning toward the former.  
Let’s go get what we came for.”

“Quarantine?
  We can’t just put everyone in
quarantine.” Ron said.

Miles shook his head.  
“It continues to spread. We are
required to get this under control.” He
looked over at the man sitting next to him.  
“Tell him Doc.”

Doctor Moraine sat fidgeting with a notepad and pen in front
of him. He continued to stare down at
the table while he spoke. “Uh…it is a
proven method of controlling an outbreak situation.”

“Do we know how it’s spreading?”
  One of the council members asked.

They all looked at Doctor Moraine.
  “Fluids for sure…I don’t think airborne.
  Would be spreading much faster.”
  He remained staring at the notepad in front
of him while nervously tapping it with his pen.  
“Droplets from coughing… sneezes…that sort of thing.
  We’re too lumped together.
  It’s an ideal situation for infection to
spread.”

“Ideal! It is far from
ideal.” Ron said while slapping his hand
on the table.

Doctor Moraine jumped at the noise.
  “I guess for humans you are right.”

Miles sat back in his chair and held his hands up in front
of him. “Enough…we start mandatory
quarantines.”

“We haven’t voted.”  
Ron said angrily.

“We’re not going to vote.”

A young council member stood up.
  “We have to vote.
  It’s –“

“Blake!” Miles
shouted.

The door burst open and several armed men streamed into the
room with rifles directed at the council members.
  Ron’s face flushed red with anger.
  He started to stand up.

The nearest rifleman shouted.
  “Stay put!”

“Come on Blake, you—“

Miles stood, placed both hands on the table, and looked at
the council members. “This conversation
is concluded.” He stood and turned to Doctor
Moraine. “Notify Brent to initiate the
protocol. Stay quiet
about it…a limited quantity at a time and evaluate temperatures for placement like
we discussed.” He then turned to
Blake. “You know what to do correct?”
  Miles said while stealing a glance at the
council members. Blake nodded his head.
  With that Miles left the room and his former
council members.

Miles climbed the stairs to the second floor of his home and
made the short walk down the hall. He
stood in front of the door at the end. He
slowly took in a deep breath through his nose.  
He took a quick glance back down the hall and then pulled an old
skeleton key from his pocket. Gripping
the antique between his thumb and index finger he held it up in front of his
face, admiring the simplicity. With slow
movements he inserted it into the keyhole, gave it a turn, and took in another
deep nasal breath.

After entering, he turned and locked the door behind
him. He stared at the chipped paint for
a bit and then spun around, a huge grin on his face.
  A few paces in front of him sat an old farm
bed with Kelly gagged and tied in a sitting position at the headboard.
  Her eyes were white with fear as she stared
back at him.

******

Tom entered the room first, followed by Hank and Hannah.
  They all tried to avoid looking at the dead
man sitting at the desk, however the stench was unavoidable.

“Let’s look through this paperwork, see if the dead can
talk.” Tom said.

They spread out around the room and started going through
drawers and piled up papers, looking for anything.
  Most were dated from years ago and listed
equipment transfers and supply orders.  
It was in one of the desk’s drawers that Hannah found something of note.

“Guys, take a look at this.”

“Whatcha got?”
  Hank said, stepping over next to her.

Once Tom joined them she pointed to a hand written spiral
bound notebook. “Looks like a
journal. Last entry was about a month
ago.”

They all leaned in, reading the scribbled writing, “Doc
needs supplies from Seattle. Lost
contact with Echo One several days ago.
Sending Markus and Rex.  
May be last chance at stopping this.”

That last statement hung in all of their minds.
  Somehow it was both hopeful and deflating.

“Either this Echo One has our solution or they’ve already
tried it and failed.” Tom said.

“That doesn’t sound very hopeful.”
  Hannah said.

Hank looked back at the man sitting at the desk with his
brains blown out. “I think he lost
hope.”

Tom nodded. “I know
it…not a good sign.” He tapped a finger
on the journal. “This may have more.
  Hank, you stay put and look over this…see if
you can find anything more.”

“Roger that.”

“What’s our plan?”  
Hannah asked.

“We’re going to find this Doctor’s office.”

Hannah nodded in agreement and the two of them headed out
into the hall. Tom closed the door, not
wanting Hank to get any unwelcome surprises.  
They were both about to head for the stairs that led back to the main
level, when Hank shouted from inside.  
Tom cracked the door back open to see what was up.

“Take a right at the end of the hall.
  I saw some doors with name plates on
them. Might be a good
place to start.” He hesitated for
a bit. “Just thought
of it…maybe waste of time.”

“No, that’s good. We
were headed downstairs to start.” Tom
said before closing the door again. He
looked at Hannah and shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
  “He just wants to be the leader.”

“I heard that.” Hank
grumbled from behind the door.

Hannah couldn’t hold back a giggle.

Tom almost laughed.  
“Don’t you side with him.”

The two of them moved down the hall, working as a team to
cover each other. The back to back
formation allowed them to cover both ends of the hall.
  They figured there were no more immediate
threats but it was better to be safe. It
didn’t take long before they reached the intersection Hank spoke of.
   As they moved down the side hall Tom
carefully examined the worn brass name plates mounted on each door.
  Strange noises issued from behind several of
the doors.

“How are we going to know which one is the doctor?”
  Hannah asked while squinting at one of the
name plates.

“Good question. I’ve
been hoping it would be obvious, but— “Tom stopped mid-sentence.
  “Ha, check this out.”

Hannah came over and giggled when she saw, “Edward Schaffer,
M.D.” With a glance over to Tom she
said, “Obvious enough?”

Tom leaned in close to the door and rested an ear on the
paneling. After listening for nearly a
minute he turned to Hannah and nodded his head.  
“I think it’s clear.” He reached
down and slowly turned the door knob until it issued a soft click.
  Crossbow out and ready he began to crack the
door open. The smell of putrefying flesh
spilled out, washing over them like dirty pond water.

“This is going to be ugly.”  
Hannah whispered.

Not hesitating, Tom shoved the door the rest of the way
open. “Whoa.”
  Was all Tom could say.

“What happened?”

The scene was out of a Saw movie.
  Dark blood splattered the walls and
floor. Chunks of pink flesh clung to the
ceiling like stalactites in a cave. On
the floor, at the corner of the desk, a black shoe could just be seen.
  As they side stepped across the room, Tom’s
eyes followed the leg until it ended in a ragged stump.
  Tom put a hand over his mouth and nose,
trying to block out the stench. He
looked over at Hannah and she seemed oblivious.

With the efficiency of a police officer, she worked her way
around the room and then moved in toward the back of the desk.
  A large leather chair lay on its side with
various body parts scattered around it.  
The floor was stained crimson with dried blood.
  Hannah stood frozen in place, staring down at
the gruesome scene.

“You okay?” Tom
asked.

“Missing.”

“What?”

“Parts are missing.  
There is no way this makes a whole body.”

Tom looked back at the door with desperate longing to get
out of this room. The urge to vomit was nearly
overwhelming. “Great…that’s just
great. Think it’s the doc?”
  He asked while still eyeing the door.

“No way to tell from this mess.”
  She said as she stepped up close to the desk
and began looking over the items lying on it.  
Most were so drenched in blood it was difficult to make out what they
were. She began pulling out drawers and
thumbing through their contents.

Tom moved around to the other side of the desk and began
looking as well. He found the drawers
were neatly organized, folders labeled with color coded tabs and supplies
carefully compartmentalized. Reading
through the alphabetized tabs, Tom found a few that sounded promising so he
removed them from the drawer. He was
about to lay them flat on the desk, but stopped when he looked at the blood and
gore. It was after spinning a full
circle that he decided there was nowhere clean in this room.
  With a sigh he slapped the folders down on
the desk. He opened the first one
labeled “Supplies” and glanced at Hannah.  
“Any luck over there?”

“Nothing so far.”

Tom found the supplies folder filled with inventory
statements, purchase orders, and invoices for old orders.
  All the items were typical of a medical
facility and none were dated post infection.  
With a flip Tom tossed the folder to the side and gave the next one a
try. The two of them continued searching
until they had gone through all of the drawers.

With an angry growl Tom threw the last folder up against the
wall. “Stupid!
  Why is there nothing here?”

“Something has to be here.”

Tom shook his head.  
“Maybe there is another doctor.”

“I don’t think so…the journal only said Doc.
  It would have said which one if there was
more than one.”

“Good point.” Tom
looked down at the gore covered desk. He
slid out the top drawer and pulled a pencil from a small plastic tray.
  Using the tip he began shoving through the
clutter. A stapler, a tape dispenser, some
blood soaked papers, and a variety of unidentifiable objects were slowly pushed
to the side as Tom dug deeper. After
clearing away enough stuff, his pencil hit on the thin metal of a spiral bound
notebook. The edges were soaked in
blood, but luckily it was deep enough in the pile to not be completely ruined.

Using the tip of his pencil, Tom flipped the front cover
open. The page was filled with crisp
writing. “Here we go…check this out.”

Hannah took one look at the first page and said, “That’s it,
let’s get out of here.”

“Good plan…back to Hank?”

“Anywhere but here.”
  She said while crinkling her nose.

Tom poked his head into the room and found Hank leaning up
against the wall looking through the officer’s journal.
  “We found the Doc’s journal.
  Let’s check ‘em out
somewhere less…less—“

“Not here, got it.  
I’m in.” Hank said without
hesitation while heading for the door. “Creepin’
me out anyway.” He said with a glance to
the dead officer.

The three of them made their way back down to the entrance
room where there was a comfy couch. Hank
handed his journal to Hannah and headed for one of the broken out windows.

“I’ll keep an eye out while you two do your book dweeb
stuff.”

“Did you find anything?”  
Tom asked.

“Just skimmed through.
  “Day to day stuff.
  Sounds like the guys were starting to lose it
toward the end. Once the contagion
started everything began falling apart.”

Hannah and Tom plopped down next to each other on the couch
and started reading through the journals.  
They agreed it was best to start at the beginning and get the full
picture. Hank patrolled the windows and
hall, pacing like a worried mom outside their child’s surgery.

Within a few minutes Hannah said, “They knew.”

“Who knew what?”

“The military knew about the infection before it even
started. Listen to this:
 
Nobody
realized the scope of the leak until too late.  
ZVX-27 could be the end of the world.
”

Tom let that sink in for a moment.
  “Wow.”  
Was all he could say.

Hank chimed in from over by the window, “Thought it stunk
like a government screw up right from the get go.”

Tom continued to flip through the doctor’s journal.
  “They didn’t just try to stop the
infection. From these notes it sounds
like they did all kinds of experiments.  
I’ve got a week’s worth of entries that are lists of various body parts
removed from one of the undead. They
took him apart piece by piece until only the head was left.”
  He hesitated for a bit, looking over at
Hannah. “Bet you can guess…head was
still alive and chomping.”

“That’s just wrong.”  
She replied.

“Goes on and on.
  They tried freezing, burning, electrocuting…about
everything.”

“Probably why they all went bat.”
  Hank grumbled.

“Nothing more in the officer’s journal.”
  Hannah said.

Tom was running his finger across several lines in the
journal and said, “They started experimenting with various infectious diseases
in an attempt to destroy ZVX-27. Thought
they had the cure…that’s what they sprayed everywhere.”

“Well we know how that turned out.”
  Hank said.

“The doctor warned the higher ups.
  Sounds like he was pretty
pissed from several of his entries.  
He knew it was too early to tell.”  
Tom continued reading in the journal.  
“Last entries pretty much match what the officer said.
  He thought there was a chemical at a research
and development facility that would solve everything.
  Called it
pethromyoxicine.”

“Easy for you to say.”
  Hannah said with a laugh.