The Infected: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (15 page)

"We need you, Doc!" Sam yelled. The doctor was already on his way and he took the free spot between them. He threw his weight against the door, slipped and fell.

Soto burst out in laughter.

"Close the door, goddammit!" Sam screamed.

Soto laughed harder.

"I think I can get it," Cole said as he tore at the metal rod above the door.

Sam's blood turned cold as her heightened sense of hearing detected the thunderous footsteps echoing in the distance. "We have to hurry." She slammed her weight against the door and Doc did the same. She pushed with all her might, but it didn't move an inch.

"Keep working on it," Sam said and spun away from the door. She picked the battle ax off of the ground and marched back to the General.

"You know your weapons will be useless against them," Soto said evenly.

"Yeah, but they're not against you." Sam lifted blade above her head. "Close the door…now!"

"My dear, why do you think I brought you here?" The General leaned back in his chair and cupped both hands behind his head. "This is the end game for you and your little friends. This is assurance that the royalty will be safe. I will die as the honorific leader who sacrificed his life to make sure that the great city of Lost An—"

Sam swung as hard as she could and buried the ax deep into the top of his skull, splitting it straight down the middle. A geyser of blood erupted from the gore and covered Sam in buckets of red. General Soto slumped in the leather desk chair, the two halves of his face hanging from either side of the blade. After a moment, his lifeless body slipped out of the chair, and collapsed onto the concrete floor.

Sam gaped stupidly at the gruesome scene she had created. Where had this killer instinct had come from? Something shrieked outside of the room and she snapped back to the present. It was the same unearthly scream from her nightmare. She knew what was coming for them.

It was a midnight runner.

"How's it coming on the door, boys?" Sam asked. She sat down in the desk chair and turned to the computer.

"This damned lock won't give," Cole said. Veins popped from his head and forearms as he pulled on the rod.

Sam's heart thumped wildly in her chest and she focused on the computer monitor. If the Soto opened the door with the computer then she could shut it. She had to believe that.

The screen was black with a single word displayed in the upper left hand corner:

Override

And beside it:

(Y/N):

A green cursor rhythmically appeared and then disappeared.

The beast shrieked again. It was much closer. Sam's skin turned to gooseflesh and the thin hairs on her arm stood on end. The monitor had cycled to an open doorway and Sam could faintly make out the lower half of a computer desk. Her computer desk.

"Any luck?" Cole asked. It drew her attention back to the computer.

The keyboard was smeared in blood, but she could read a portion of the buttons. She quickly tapped the button marked 'Y', hit the 'Return' button and held her breath.

The word 'Override' disappeared and was replaced by a far more daunting one.

Password:

Sam's heart sank into her stomach. There was no time to guess what could be an infinite number of words, or letter/number combinations. They were doomed.

"Miss Sam?" Cole yelled. "Something's coming."

"Think!" Sam yelled at herself.

David is the key,
Jordan whispered from the recesses of her brain.

Her eyes lit up. It was a moment of clarity similar to the one in the dining room after her skull was slammed into the table. A distant memory, one from long ago, flashed through her mind, and this time she grabbed ahold of it. She typed a word and then looked down at the screen. Her heart lurched.

Password: David

"Miss Sam?!"

She let her finger hover for a split-second and then mashed it. The screen filled with green text and then a hiss filled the room. A wave of relief washed over her as the door began to close.

"It's not going fast enough!" Cole screamed.

Sam ran back to the door, lodged herself in the middle and the three of them pushed. The door continued to close at its own speed. A scream ripped through the hallway. Sam stepped back from the door and looked to the monitor. Her heart seized.

There wasn't one beast outside of the door. There were six of them. They stood in a cluster on the other side of the door as it closed as if they were waiting for a cue to enter. The door was a little more than halfway shut, but there was still room for at least one of them to get in.

Sam gasped and took a horrified step back. She signaled for Cole and Doc to stop and they did. She held a finger to her lips and pointed to the monitor. The two men stepped away from the door and looked. Their eyes grew wide and their jaws fell open in unison.

"Christ in a hand basket," Cole said and when he did one of the monsters lunged forward.

"Grab your gun," Sam screamed.

Cole snatched his rifle from the floor and wheeled on the door which was now three-quarters of the way shut. Doc sprinted to Alex who was closest to the door. He grabbed her and carried her towards the rear of the room. Sam turned back to Soto, grabbed the ax handle, and tugged. The blade held firm, lodged deeply between layers of muscle tissue and bone.

Sam pulled again, and the blade pulled free. She spun back to the door and a large scaly arm emerged from the darkness. Sam gasped. The arm was long and muscular and the skin of the beast was orangish-pink. Sharp jagged claws dug into the metal door frame and created a blood-chilling screech as it pulled itself into the doorway. The door vibrated against its arm, still trying to close.

"Whatever happens," Sam said and gripped the ax handle tighter, "I just wanted to say thank you…for everything."

"Miss Sam, with all due respect, we ain't come this far to die here."

Cole lifted the muzzle of the rifle and squeezed the trigger. The sound of gunfire melded with the screams of the beast as round after round lodged into its arm. Instead of retreating, the midnight runner lurched forward and shoved its shoulder through the door.

Sam didn't wait for Cole to reload. She ran toward the door, ax held high over her head, and let out a primal scream. A scream almost as unearthly as the one emitted from the creature behind the door. A scream from deep within her.

"Sam, no!"

But Sam didn't listen. She swung the blade and connected with her target. The sharp edge of the ax plunged into the creature's bicep. Dark red blood exploded from the wound and the midnight runner screamed out. Sam dislodged the blade but didn't give the creature time to withdraw its wounded appendage. She lifted the ax again and when she swung she found the same spot with extreme precision. This time the blow severed the creature's arm, and it fell to the ground. Blood sprayed wildly from the wound, and a second later, the monster disappeared.

The door shut.

There was long moment of silence and then a loud
THUD
.

The noise caused Sam to jump, her heart still thumping in her chest like an ensnared jackrabbit trying to kick its way out.

THUD.

Sam backed away from the door and looked up to the monitor. The creature lifted its good arm slowly and banged against the door.
THUD.
A bloody stump dangled at the other side. The other five stood behind their leader, motionless.

THUD.

THUD.

After a moment, the banging sped up and Sam watched as the rest of them joined in. They slammed their giant fists against the door. She stepped back slowly, still clutching her ax. She was worried the door would give way to the creatures' massive weight and power. In the corner of the room, next to the door, the severed claw was clinched in a fist and it gyrated with each bang on the door.

Ten minutes later, the thudding finally stopped.

"What now?" Cole asked.

Sam looked up at the monitor. The creatures had stepped away from the door, but they were still out there. They huddled together in a tight group as if they were a football team coming up with some sort of trick play to fool their opponents.

"Now, we wait," Sam said and dropped the ax to the floor.

9

The monitors encircling the room continued to cycle. All except one. The wall-sized monitor remained dark. Sam stared at it for a long time and then turned her gaze to the others. Cole had taken on the added responsibility of nursemaid and helped Doc lay Alex's broken body out on the floor. The girl still hadn't moved and Sam wondered if she would be able to leave her if their lives depended on it. Killer elite or not…Sam didn't think so. If push came to shove, she didn't know if she could leave the Doc either. But she wouldn't let him know that.

The Doc went through his routine of shining the penlight into her eyes and checking her pulse. Groan. Repeat. An hour had passed since the door had shut and he reemphasized the pressing matter of getting Alex back to the medical offices numerous times.

Sam ignored each one.

Not because she didn't care. Sam cared about the girl immensely and knew time was of the essence. But no matter how much she cared, Sam didn't have a plan for dealing with the monstrosities on the opposite side of the door. Doc looked up at her and she promptly spun a quarter-turn to her right to avoid his menacing glare.

The monitors on the wall displayed live footage of the children working emphatically on the giant generators. The large metal machines dwarfed them in size, but the children clambered up and down the ladders at breakneck speed. The video feeds cycled through countless sunken faces, bloated bellies and haunted eyes. Slaves of Lost Angel. She would free them all if she had time. But if the creatures outside the door had their way, it might not be an option.

She turned her chair again.

The monitor above the door displayed the group of midnight runners. They remained in their tight huddle. Sam stared at the monsters. They took breath in unison, their hulking bodies rising and falling simultaneously. Two black horns jutted from each giant forehead. They curved out like the horns of a steer and ended in sharpened spikes. Their massive heads pitched and rocked back and forth in rhythmic time with one another.

She turned again.

Screens full of empty rooms and dead bodies.

She rotated in the chair once more, back to her original starting place, and faced the dark screen. The screen that dwarfed all the other screens. Why was this one turned off? What was it hiding?

Sam twirled 180 degrees, and she faced the door. The computer screen had gone blank once more, except for the neon green command prompt. Absently, she let her hands fall to the keyboard and let her fingers gently rest on the faded keys.

She couldn't remember ever using a computer but the positioning of her fingers came natural. The few legible letters on the keyboard were out of order and most were either faded from overuse or still covered in Soto's blood, yet she knew where they all were without looking directly at the device.

The vague feeling of remembrance—muscle memory perhaps—felt strange and the intermittent data that continued to be fed from some unseen encyclopedia in her mind was even stranger.

"Cole," Sam said. She beckoned for her friend to come closer.

The big man brushed a thick strand of purple hair from Alex's face, whispered something to the doctor and then came over to her. "You have a plan, Miss Sam?"

"Not exactly," Sam admitted. "I just wanted to know if anything has changed for you since we've been here."

Cole seemed to contemplate this for a moment and then shook his head. "Naw. Not really. Just a headache I can't seem to shake."

She had forgotten about the device in the back of his head. Chills ran up her spine.

"You care to enlighten us about that, Doc?" Sam asked. "You mind telling my friend why there's some sort of receiver implanted into the back of his skull and a remote control that will wake him from a vegetative state."

Cole's face flushed. "What do you mean?" He rubbed the backside of his head. "What is this?"

Sam ignored him. "Or telling me why I suddenly possess the abilities of a blood-thirsty mercenary?"

"I can answer the questions about your friend," Doc said, "and if you'd like me to postulate a theory about your condition, I can do that as well. But now is not the time."

He looked up from Alex and Sam was almost taken aback by the sad, desperation in his eyes. It seemed he really did mean what he said to the General. That he really did feel like a monster.

"We should be focused on getting out of here as quickly as possible," Doc continued. "This girl needs medical attention and judging by the swelling in your face, so do you."

Sam had forgotten all about her own pain. Her face throbbed dully from the blow to the dining room table. She ran a finger over her busted lip. "What do you suggest?"

The doctor rose from his patient and crossed the room to Sam. She looked up at him and tried her best not to cringe at his deformed face. "My suggestion…" Doc paused, placed a thumb on each side of Sam's nose and then pushed hard.

SNAP.

Sam screamed out as the cartilage was forced back into place. Bright stars filled her vision, and she fought the urge to vomit. The feeling passed after a moment and a sense of relief washed over her.

"My suggestion is we find a way out of here." The doctor examined her face a moment longer and then went back to Alex without another word.

"What were you talking about, Miss Sam?" Cole whispered once Doc was out of earshot. "About me being a vegetable?"

"You know the device I gave you?"

Cole fished the small remote control from his pocket.

"When I found you," Sam said and gently it from his hand, "you were in some sort of catatonic state. I pushed the one in the middle and you just sort of snapped out of it."

Cole thought about this for a long moment and then asked, "What do you think that means?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Sam asked and pointed toward Doc.

Cole nodded and returned to Alex and Doc. After a moment, she heard them whispering amongst each other. Angry whispers. Sam shoved the remote into her pocket and tried to think.

She pushed the murmurings from her mind and focused all of her energy on her fingers. Doc was right. They needed to get out of this room. They needed a plan. One that didn't involve fighting their way through the midnight runners. All she needed was a little help.

Sam.
As if on cue, Jordan's voice filled her mind. She couldn't see him but knew he was there—standing beside her. His presence comforted her.

"I'm here," Sam said aloud.

"What's that, Miss Sam?" Cole asked.

She waved a dismissive hand at him. Cole shrugged and resumed his talk with the doctor, his giant hand clasped around Doc's shoulder and the doctor's deformed eyes wide. She closed her eyes and prayed the connection hadn't been broken.

What are you waiting for, Sam? You know what you have to do. The mission is waiting on you. Concordia is waiting on you.

Sam's eyes opened as Jordan's words echoed through her. She typed a word onto the keyboard and the she looked at the screen.

CONCORDIA

The word had become the bane of her existence. It was the reason Jordan had been taken from her. And also the reason she kept breathing. It was her motivation to not give up and let the beasts outside have their dinner. She had to justify Jordan's death. She had to make sure his sacrifice wasn't in vain.

Her right index finger hesitated over the 'Return' button and she held her breath.

"Everything alright, Miss Sam?" Cole asked

Sam didn't answer. Instead, she mashed the button.

Another loud hiss of air filled the room and Sam jumped to her feet. Her breath caught in her lungs and her eyes darted toward the heavy steel door. A second later, Cole appeared at her side with his rifle cocked and aimed. But the door didn't move, and after a moment, Sam managed a breath.

The hissing wasn't coming from the door but rather from behind them. She turned slowly to see the top of the other desk opening. A large square in the center of the desk appeared first. The wood panel lowered and then split down the middle. The two panels retracted inside of the desk and then the hissing paused. When it resumed, an ancient computer monitor emerged from the newly formed hole and rose from the belly of the desk. At the same time, a panel on the front of the desk slid open, and a keyboard popped out. Once the computer had fully emerged, the hissing stopped and silence filled the room. Sam sat down hard in the chair and was face to face with the mysterious monitor.

This computer was much older than the one behind her. Its drab gray color was coated in a thick layer of dust and the screen was curved and thick. On the bottom right hand corner of the monitor was a square button, and beside it, the word: MicroApple.

Sam hit the button and the screen flickered on.

The screen rolled through lines of foreign text and numbers. When they stopped, a chill ran up Sam's spine as she read what was on the screen.

A sentence lined the top of the monitor. Sam's skin erupted in gooseflesh as she read the words aloud, "Concordia Remote Terminal 36."

"Did you say, what I think you did?" Cole asked.

"Concordia," was all that Sam could manage.

Underneath this was another sentence that made even less sense. Sam gulped hard and read this one aloud as well, "Copyright 2032 by the MicroApple Corporation."

"2032?" Cole asked.

"The year the virus was released," Sam said.

Judging by the state of the monitor, 2032 had been many, many years ago. Her hands once again rested on the keyboard and she mashed the 'Return' key. The words on the screen disappeared and were replaced by another password prompt. Sam hesitated and then typed in David's name. She held her breath and hit return.

PASSWORD INCORRECT

Sam thought for another moment and then typed Concordia onto the screen. She pressed return again and again the monitor returned:

PASSWORD INCORRECT

She typed a succession of words now, hitting return after each one. First, she tried: 'Lost Angel', and then: 'New Hope.' She tried: 'Infected' and 'Halfways.' She tried the names of each of the two leaders of Lost Angel: 'Soto' and then 'Gates.' Each time the screen returned a simple:

PASSWORD INCORRECT

"Damn it," Sam muttered after the umpteenth attempt.

Cole had joined her beside the monitor but stood silently, not offering any thoughts of his own. She looked up to him, and he shrugged. Sam was on her own. Once again, she closed her eyes and waited for Jordan. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally answered her.

You know what the password is,
Jordan said.

"Not this time," Sam answered. "I don't."

Yes, you do.

"But it can't be," Sam said as two words fluttered through her brain. She swallowed hard, and a chill ran up her spine.

Why?
Jordan asked.

"Because it just can't."

Why?

"Because it's fucking impossible!" Sam screamed.

Her heart beat furiously inside of her chest and tears stung at her eyes. She forced herself to take a deep breath and then another. The two words that had fluttered through her mind only a few moments before reappeared.

Try it.

"No."

David is the key…and YOU are the light.

"Jordan, I can't…this is crazy."

Try it. For me.

Sam sighed. Jordan knew she wouldn't be able to not type them in now. He knew she would never disgrace the memory of him by refusing his request…even if his request was nothing more than a figment of her imagination. Even if his request was her own.

Sam let her fingers fall back to the keys and when she opened her eyes tears fell out of them. Slowly, her fingers typed the two words as saltwater streamed down her cheeks. By the time she finished, she was sobbing. She hadn't noticed Cole's big hand resting on her shoulder. She looked up at the screen and read the two words:

SAMANTHA ALBRIGHT

She took a breath, wiped her eyes and hit the return key.

PASSWORD ACCEPTED

The sight of it made her want to vomit but the words quickly disappeared. They were replaced by a single word:

CONNECTING

The word was followed by a succession of dots that continued to replicate. First, only a few and then as the seconds ticked by, they filled a quarter of the screen. And then half. By the time they reached the three-quarter mark, Sam's nerves had quelled. And then the monitor on the opposite side of the room flickered on.

The screen didn't immediately illuminate. Instead, the darkness only lightened a bit and stayed that way for a long moment. Somewhere, either being pumped in through the speakers above them, or perhaps on the built-in ones of the monitor…it sounded like a phone was ringing.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the screen exploded with color. On the screen was a man, half naked and covered by the sheets of his bed, the light being emitted from a bedside lamp. He wore a very tired expression on his face. His bleary eyes were bloodshot and his gray hair was disheveled.