The Dying of the Light (Book 1): End (40 page)

“One piece of good news is that the CDC and USAMRIID — the Army version of the CDC — have reached an agreement to work together to provide assistance to those whose family members may have been exposed. There are multiple patient-care facilities being set up around the country to help with the massive influx of this highly-contagious disease. The list of these facilities is now available on the CDC’s website as well as on our own site.

“Again, we must stress that anyone infected or believed to be infected by the ‘new flu’ should seek immediate treatment at one of these patient-care facilities. If they are unable to be moved or are otherwise incapacitated, please call the 800-number to arrange for help. Remember: immediate isolation is the best way to keep you and your loved ones safe from an infected person.

“This has been a HealthWatch Special Report. I’m Tabitha Greene.”

“What progress have you made, Stevens?”

“We have several crates of samples ready for transport, Mr. Gardner. And we should have several more soon, given the rate of infection we’re seeing.”

Gardner smiled, and Stevens fought the urge to react on camera. Gardner made him nauseous, and he wasn’t thrilled about having a face-to-face via webcam with the man.

“Good,” Gardner said. “I wouldn’t have thought that Lincoln, Nebraska, of all places, would be such a hotspot.”

“It’s not. It’s just that this is the only place within a couple hundred miles that some of these folks can go. Plus, this is where the National Guard is bringing all the others from the region.”

“The ones that can’t or won’t drive in?”

“Exactly.”

“I see. Well, this still bodes well for our research efforts. Any security violations?”

Not that I’m going to tell you about
, thought Stevens. “Nope. Everything’s locked down tight as a drum here. Per your orders, we’ve exhumed some local bodies and cremated them to provide ashes for family members who are particularly obstinate. Most of the others seem to accept that their relatives or friends are too infectious to see.”

“Sheep will do that, Mr. Stevens. Give them a plausible reason — even one that’s only
slightly
plausible — and they’ll fill in the details themselves. It’s really quite convenient.” Gardner tapped a finger on the desk as he thought. “Have all the samples you’ve collected thus far — including the blood — flown out immediately, Stevens. I have an urgent need for them.”

“I’ll have them on the plane today.”

“Good, good.” Gardner signed off, and Stevens walked outside as if to clear his head. He looked around for observers and then moved off into an alley nearby, pulling the sat-phone from his pocket and dialing a number from memory. It rang once and was picked up.

“Secure.”

“Sir, another transport at 1500hrs local.”

“Quantity?”

“Four, sir. Sir?”

“Yes?”

“What’s our timetable?”

“Soon, specialist. Soon. Hang tight there, son. We’re almost ready.”

“Very well, sir. Out here.”

Stevens put the phone back in his pocket and went back into the tent, hoping that Maxwell knew what he was doing.
It’s a dangerous game, playing with someone like Gardner
, he thought.
Then again, the general has been playing for just as long. Let’s just hope we come out on top.

“Who are these guys?” asked Porter, one of the soldiers of the freshly–minted 7
^th
Team. He nodded toward the observation room off to one side of the room, where a small group of technicians stood talking. A thick black curtain screened part of the room from the rest of them, where the twelve soldiers were sitting in rows.

“Just some lab geeks, probably here to analyze our reactions or something. I’ve heard this can get pretty wild,” said another; his uniform read MASTERS.

“Whatever. It’s just some ‘monster’ behind some bulletproof glass.”

“Really? Then riddle me this, genius. Do you see any other glass in here?”

The soldier’s eyes widened slightly as he realized the import of his compatriot’s words. “Surely not…” he said, but was interrupted as a dull clinking sound emerged from behind the thick curtain. A low moan followed, and the noise in the room from talking soldiers vanished as if a switch had been thrown.

None of the soldiers saw the technicians in the observation room watching them as one pushed a button, and the curtain slid aside. None of the soldiers had seen active duty against walkers, but they were all experienced veterans of some of the finest units the world has ever known.

None of it mattered now, though.

The walker came lurching forward, only restrained by the chains around its neck, wrists and waist. As one man, the soldiers flinched back, several covering their noses and mouths as the stench of rotting flesh overpowered them.

“Holy shit!” yelled Porter. “Fuck me, fuck me! What the fuck!” Some of the soldiers had abandoned their chairs and backed away from the walker, only coming to grips with what they were seeing as they realized that it was chained to the wall.

One brave soul among them moved forward, staying just out of reach of the creature, his curiosity getting the better of him. He could still see the remnants of the suit the man had been wearing.
Some sort of businessman
, he thought.
I wonder what the hell he was doing when
…

“Look out!” Masters came rocketing in from the side, knocking the other soldier off his feet just as the walker took another swipe… one which would have connected if he’d been there. It was only then that some of them noticed what Masters had already seen: the concrete on the wall that secured its anchor chain, which held all of the rest of the chains, was crumbling and failing.

With yet another moan, the walker pulled the ring out of the wall and fell upon the nearest soldier, who raised his arm to ward off his attacker. It grabbed the arm and bit into the meaty banquet it had been provided. The soldier screamed and fell back, wrenching his arm from the walker’s grip.

The rest were trying the door, only to find that it was locked. Several banged on the windows of the observation room, where the technicians were frozen in fear, one of them in a bundle on the floor, rocking back and forth and crying. Two of the more enterprising veterans attempted to use the chairs as improvised weapons, but found that they were bolted to the floor.

“For fuck’s sake, people…” yelled Masters, and dived behind the walker, rolling and coming up in a crouch. Grimacing as he caught hold of the creature’s legs, he pulled hard, and there was sickening crunch as its head hit the concrete floor. It wasn’t out of the fight, though, and it struggled to free itself as Masters stood up, still holding its feet. Masters swung it around hard, not letting go as its head impacted the observation room window, splattering gore across the glass and the wall beside it.

The technicians inside flinched back and one finally snapped out of it and hit the base alarm. Masters made sure the walker had stopped twitching before glaring at the technicians through the glass. As he turned back to the room, he saw two men — one of them the luckless Porter — administering first-aid to the wounded soldier. Suddenly, the wounded man moaned and began to sit up, with the other two helping him.

“Stop! Get out of there, before…” Masters shouted, but he was too late. The wounded man had turned, and began biting and clawing at Porter, whose reflexes weren’t
nearly
fast enough to avoid the attack.

“Son of a bitch!” Masters yelled. “Haven’t any of you ever seen a damn zombie movie?” He shoved the uninjured paramedic wannabe away and dragged the walker away from the others, toward the front of the room, where he kicked it in the head until it stopped moving.

There was a crash from the door, and Masters saw what he thought was Echo team — the first to respond to the scene — come through the doorway. Major James assessed the situation, and, without pausing, put two rounds into Porter. The man didn’t even have time to register what was happening before he was gone.

Probably better that way,
Masters thought.

James nodded to Santos, who took care of the one Masters had kicked into oblivion.

“Anyone else bit?” asked James. When there was no response, he grunted. “Fine. Do a splatter check. I have some business to take care of.” The remainder of 7
^th
Team began checking themselves and each other for infectious blood as James stepped up to the observation room window and looked at the technicians inside.

Masters took one look at the major’s face, and decided that being somewhere else —
anywhere
else — was a good idea. Suiting action to thought, he got the rest of his team out of there. They made a ridiculous parade down the hallways: some of them were clad only in their underwear, having removed their contaminated clothing, and some of them weren’t even in that much.

James finished memorizing the technician’s faces, and turned back to his team. “Alright, show’s over. Get the clean-up crew in here.”

“Already on the way, sir,” said Santos. “I called them as soon as we arrived.”

“Good.” He eyed the remains of the original zombie, noting the force with which it must have impacted the window.
That Masters is one formidable, stone-cold son-of-a-bitch
, he thought.
The general is gonna want to meet him.

“Final numbers?”

“Two dead, not including the original walker.”

“Damn him. Damn that man straight to Hell,” said Maxwell.

“Yes, sir. I’d say he’s seen to that himself, sir,” replied Anderson, sitting across the desk from the general.

“Do we know how this happened, yet?”

“Best guess at this time is shoddy construction work, sir. The anchor ring apparently just came out of the wall. I’m looking into it. As for the rest, it appears Masters took the initiative and kicked some serious ass.”

“Okay, so we’ve got shoddy construction in an acclimatization room built to Gardner’s order, almost a whole team shitting their pants, and two recruits of a brand-new team dead.”

“Essentially, sir. That’s it in a nutshell. Except…”

“Except what?”

“These boys turned in
seconds
, sir. Not even minutes. I think it was a setup. I think Gardner was running an experiment, and meant for them to be attacked.”

Maxwell looked up, and Anderson couldn’t help but swallow hard.
I do not want to be Gardner right now
, he thought.
I’ve never seen that look before. God willing, I never will again.

“It’s time, Frank. Send the activation. Make it 1000 hours tomorrow.” Maxwell’s voice was cold and hard, as hard as Anderson had ever heard it. “All of them, Frank. No mistakes. And don’t miss your flight.”

“Yes, sir. No, sir.” Anderson stood, saluted, and left, leaving the door open.

“Nancy, get me Barnes,” Maxwell yelled. “And then the president.”

“The tests exceeded even our wildest expectations, sir. The subject turned in less than one minute, with only being exposed to one bite.” The technician sat with a clipboard on his lap, his face devoid of expression. “Unfortunately, the delivery specimen was destroyed during the experiment, but I am confident that we can replicate it if needed.”

“Good work, Hodges,” said Gardner, leaning back in his chair. “Good work, indeed. I’d like to see if we can…”

He was interrupted by the thick wooden door of his well-furnished office slamming open, cracking back against the wall and leaving deep holes in the plaster as Maxwell stormed in and stood glaring at the technician.

Gardner sighed, and waved one hand at the poor lab tech. “You may go, Hodges.”

Hodges stood and bolted from the room, his expressionless demeanor now replaced by one of fear.

Hardly unexpected,
thought Gardner.
Not with a Neanderthal like Maxwell looming over him.

“Have a seat,
general
,” he said, putting as much loathing into that single word as he could. “I’ll make sure and have my secretary invoice you for the repairs to the door and the wall.”

Maxwell sat down, a cold, almost predatory smile on his face as he looked at Gardner.

“Henry, that’s not something you’re ever going to have to worry about again.”

It wasn’t so much
what
Maxwell said, as the cold, toneless way in which he said it, that gave Gardner the chill that went up his back.
Something’s up… but what?

“You fucked up, Henry. But good, this time. Really put your ass in a sling with this one, boy.”

Gardner was seething, but it wouldn’t do to let Maxwell know that. “Why, whatever do you mean, general?”

“I’m talking about your little unauthorized experiment with my team yesterday, Henry.”

“I’m still not following you.”

“That acclimatization exercise that you set up? The one where I lost two of my men? The one that ended with three walkers dead and a helluva mess for the cleanup crews. That one.”

“Ah, yes. I did hear about an accident in one of the testing areas yesterday. I haven’t had time to look at the full report yet, but from what I understand, one of our technicians got a little careless. He’s been disciplined by his supervisor and is no longer employed here.”