The Z Directive (Book 1): Extraction Point

by Thompson, Chris

  Hall slipped the earpiece back on. Jack wasn’t saying anything and, as he was the leader of the only team she was working with at that moment, she decided to take a break. Hall slipped her tablet computer into a pouch that hung off her belt and zipped it up, making her way to a corridor beneath the overseers office that led to the facilities - bathrooms, a private mess hall and a break room with a few cots and, further down, the utility areas of the sub-basement. As she made to return from her few private moments she found Maxwell standing just outside in the corridor. His back was to her, but he turned at the sound of the rest room door shutting.

  “Elizabeth.”

  “Sir. Did you need me?”

  “Just checking in with you.” He responded, and as though by silent agreement they began to walk back. “It’s been a hell of a week.”

  “That it has, sir, but I feel that we’re going to turn this around.” Hall told him as she stepped back onto the main bullpen area from the corridor, before turning to face Maxwell. She looked at him, wanting to ask why he felt Jack was quite so important to the success of the mission, but her military discipline prevented her from doing so.

  “What is it, Elizabeth?”

  “Sir?”

  “You want to ask something, so spit it out.”

  Hall thought there was a lot to be said about Maxwell, and one of those things was that he was very astute.

  “Major Ramsay. Why are you so sure he’s the right one for this mission? Major Williams has been running operations quite satisfactorily since—”

  “Because,” Maxwell interrupted, “before all that shit went down, Jack personally pulled my ass out of a hot zone when it had been declared impossible. Not him and his squad, nor even him and Tyrone, Jack on his own. If the doctor has information that can slow or stop the spread of this contagion, then Jack’s the one who can get her out safely.”

  Hall nodded, trying to hold in the fact that she had more questions.

  “Understood, sir.”

  “What else?”

  Hall sighed.

  “If he was such a good operative, why did you let him get captured?”

  “Because it was that or let some spook execute him. Burning his cover and letting him get captured was a risk, but I believed it was the best possible outcome for him in that situation.” Maxwell told her evenly. “Was it a cold-hearted thing to do? Absolutely, but I’d make the same choice again rather than let him die.”

  She nodded slowly.

  “Carry on.” Maxwell told her before starting to move away, but Hall spoke up, stopping him in his tracks.

  “Was there something you wanted, sir?”

  “Not at this time.”

  “Oh.” She responded. “It’s just you came down from your office.”

  “A good commander knows when a subordinate has something they need to get off their chest, Elizabeth. That’s why I came down.” He told her before starting away again.

  Hall watched him walk away and, once he started up the stairs to return to his office, she tapped her ear piece to open a line of communication.

  Advancing to the nurses’ station had been harder than Jack anticipated. Although there should have been a straight path, people had erected fortifications - of a sort - with gurneys, carts and even cleaning supplies. They’d been forced to take side corridors then work their way back to the main path lest they stray too close to the emergency rooms where they knew most of the infected were congregating. On the way, they’d encountered a few infected who were simply aimlessly wandering the corridors; these had been dispatched silently and without trouble. After several minutes they saw the nurses’ station. It was a wide open space with a path going left and two paths going right - one on the near and one on the far side of it. The station itself consisted of two parts; a U-shaped desk on the right with computers, cabinets and seating for a couple of supervising nurses while the left side had a countertop with a number of storage units. There were scattered patient charts everywhere, with other forms strewn about amidst blank stationary. There was also blood and, disturbingly, a number of skeletonized remains amidst torn scrubs, scattered clumps of hair - some still clinging to pieces of scalp while other lengths had presumably been ripped straight from the head and discarded as the inedible strands they were. The infected consumed the soft flesh and left the rest, Jack thought, his stomach turning a little as he considered that.

  “Jack, where are you?” Hall questioned. Jack tapped his helmet to respond.

  “We’ve just passed the nurses’ station. We had to make some detours.” He responded as he was moving towards the elevators. He observed blood on the handle of the door leading to the stairwell and wondered if this was related to the blood smear he’d been tracking earlier - before they’d been required to make a diversion - or if it was just more blood. There was no way to be sure. Even before they detoured, he’d lost track of the trail several times because of the gory state of the hospital.

  “Understood.” She acknowledged as he tried the handle. It turned, but the door didn’t budge. He put his shoulder against it and pushed, attempting to determine just how stuck it was without making too much noise, which led him to conclude that whatever was wedged up against it was pretty tight. After a few slightly more forceful attempts, he found that the door had opened just a crack, but not even enough to get his fingers through.

  “Shit.” Jack announced. “Hall, this door is blocked. We can try to force it but that’s going to make some noise.”

  “There are more stairs at the far end of that corridor you’re in. It’s going to put you close to the ER though.”

  Jack nodded, glancing down the dank corridor before looking at the door.

  “Ty, Bridges, stay here and see what you can do about the door... but do it quietly. Smith and I are going to go see if the other entrance is blocked off too.”

  “Just remember that the infected have made it up to the next floor, so there is at least one point of entry.” Tyrone pointed out.

  “Right.” Jack confirmed. “Keep an eye out.”

  Jack started to move in the direction of the next staircase, Smith just behind him - keeping an eye primarily on their rear flank Jack observed. It was for the best as, given the number of patient rooms on the left and right, as well as the supply closets and other less obviously designated spaces, it would have taken them much too long to secure every room. While it was risky to proceed in this way, they had no choice with the time constraints they were under.

  Advancing towards the next set of stairs Jack could hear the sounds of the alarm growing louder; not blaringly so, but loud enough to make it abundantly clear they were closer to the massive throng of infected he’d seen earlier.

  “Aren’t car alarms supposed to turn off on their own after a while?” Smith asked in a hushed tone.

  “Supposed to, unless it’s damaged or their constant jostling of the vehicle is re-triggering it.” Jack responded. “Why?”

  “Well, I’d rather it didn’t turn off while we were so close.”

  Jack couldn’t fault her logic; if the alarm ceased the infected might decide to go wandering and could end up meandering right into them. As they continued onwards, he became aware of a body just ahead of them. Rolled onto its side, the corpse had neither been eaten nor was it moving, and both of those things filled him with concern.

  “How fast do people turn into one of them?” Jack wanted to know.

  “Depends.” Smith answered. “Some turn instantly, some after a couple of hours. I read a report that said the longest someone withstood the infection was twenty four hours.”

  “Great. Hold up.” He told her. Jack approached the body with his weapon trained on it; he got within a couple of paces and kicked it in the back, expecting it to growl and rise up. Fortunately, this person appeared to be fully dead, a large pool of blood underneath the head.

  “What is it?” Smith asked, keeping her eye on their surroundings.

  “Not sure yet.” Jack told h
er, stowing his weapon as he knelt down. He drew his knife as a precaution and rolled the corpse off its side and on to its back. It was a man who looked to be in his thirties, and he’d been shot in the head. His eyes were closed, so either he’d seen it coming and it was an instinctive reaction or his killer had closed them in a final act of kindness - the first one being taking him out with a clean shot. As for other wounds, he had a bite on his calf. A chunk of flesh had been taken with it, but he had survived and the wound had been roughly bound; to Jack’s mind, he was likely the source of the relatively fresh blood back at their entry point. Dressed in black with a basic ballistic vest and assorted combat gear, he was vaguely reminiscent of a soldier or perhaps a cop in tactical gear. There wasn’t, however, any markings identifying him as such. Jack began to search the body, rifling through his pockets and coming up empty; there wasn’t any ammunition, weapons or technology on his person - a radio, computer or phone. He was just a dead man in a hallway.

  “Hall, bring up my head cam feed and take a picture of this dead guy. Run him through facial recognition and see if you can find out who he is.”

  “Hold his head straight on.” Hall instructed. Jack sheathed his knife then grabbed the man’s face, peeling up his eyelids with his thumbs. “Got it.” Hall reported. Jack set the man’s head down and stood, retrieving his weapon.

  “We’re on the move again, but I’ve got a feeling about this guy. Contact me when you know more. Ramsay out.”

  Jack started to move again.

  “Who do you think he is?” Smith questioned as she fell in behind Jack.

  “Not sure, but he looks tactical. If Bolvinox really did send a team in to kill the doctor, then maybe he was with them.”

  “Seems a bit of a stretch. Who’d willingly come into a shitstorm like this to kill someone?” Smith questioned.

  “Probably someone of a similar mindset to people like us who willingly come into a shitstorm like this to rescue someone; just a different side of the coin, Smith.”

  “That’s comforting.”

  They proceeded along until the end of the corridor was in sight: double doors with a sign above that indicated ‘Emergency Rooms’. Between their position and the double doors were two turn offs to the right, with the next stairwell door set between the turn offs. Jack approached the door and tried it, finding it too was jammed tight.

  “Damn it.” He muttered.

  “All this way for nothing.” Smith commented.

  “We should check another staircase then head back towards—” Jack started just as one of the emergency room doors began to open.

  Immediately, Jack readied his weapon to bring down the intruder, Smith shifting to do the same. Jack was expecting to see the shuffling form of an infected - perhaps a group of them, alerted to their presence in such a way it prevented the attraction of the car alarm from overriding their senses. What he saw instead was a figure in black, an assault rifle braced against his shoulder.

  “Freeze!” Jack instructed severely, his voice a little louder than was wise. The figure stopped advancing, remaining halfway through the door, and looked directly at him.

  “Identify yourself!” Smith barked, but the figure said nothing. Jack realized this man was dressed identically to the one they’d found dead a short time earlier. His weapon wasn’t suppressed either, meaning any exchange of gunfire would alert the infected. It was a tense moment; Jack sensed a threat but could only wait to see what action the other would take.

  “Private security.” The man responded. “I’m here to extract a high-value target.”

  “Who are you working for?” Jack demanded curtly.

  “That’s confidential. Lower your weapons.”

  “This is the site of an ongoing military operation.” Jack growled. “You’re required to leave the area and—”

  “I’m not leaving without my target.” The man interrupted with what Jack perceived as suspicious calmness. “Perhaps we can help each other?”

  Jack watched him carefully, realizing the situation could quickly explode into violence. Suddenly, the second door sprang inward and something was tossed towards them.

  “Back!” Jack called, retreating and turning away from whatever had been flung through the doorway. Barely, Jack and Smith managed to get around the corner into the second turn off before a loud, explosive bang deafened them. Coinciding with the sound was a devastating bright flash of light that would’ve been excruciatingly painful if viewed through the monocular - meant to enhance low level light sources - as it would have magnified the effect of the flash significantly. Jack’s ears were ringing and he felt disoriented, but he shook it off and leaned around the corner in time to see a pair of figures coming their way. They fired, shots tearing chunks out of the plaster on the walls and forcing him back into cover. The shots abated for a moment, so Jack ducked down and leaned out to return fire. The figures were gone, however, disappearing down the other turn off.

  “Jack!” Tyrone called out over the radio. “What’s going on?”

  “Contact with two unidentified hostiles. I think they were the Bolvinox assassins the doctor was warning us about!”

  More gunshots rang out, echoing down the corridors. They were growing closer, but Jack maintained his position, his eyes fixed on the direction of the shots. He watched as one of the black garbed men reappeared; he was firing wildly down the corridor he had just exited, but he seemingly sensed Jack’s presence and he turned, bringing his weapon to bear at Jack’s head. Jack had lined up a shot while he was turning, but before he could fire the double doors burst inwards and a trio of infected shuffled out. The man twisted back, preparing to fire just as his comrade came into view and blocked the shot. They instinctively retreated towards Jack and Smith, firing at the infected and tearing chunks out of their heads with their automatic weapons fire. Unexpectedly, a moment later, one of them spun on his heel and took aim at Jack’s position, forcing Jack to fire first. He took out the first with a precise headshot, his lifeless corpse collapsing backwards and slamming to the ground with a twitch in his legs. His partner took his eyes from the fresh infected coming through the doors to look towards Jack, and was still aiming at the infected as Jack finished him off, but not before he’d fired off a few rounds, the loud gunshots echoing in the empty hallways. Jack stood and moved back into the corridor they’d travelled along followed swiftly by Smith.

  “Ty, get that door open! Smith and I are on the way back but we’ll have infected on our tails!” He reported as they backed away. He suddenly became aware that, underneath all the other sounds, there was an absence of a particular noise. It took a moment for him to realize that the car alarm had stopped.

  “Whatever you guys are doing in there, some of the infected are starting to push inside.” Cross reported.

  “How many?” Jack asked, taking aim at the closest infected and firing a single shot through its head.

  “Not sure, but they’re losing interest in the car because the alarm’s packed in. Quite a few of them; it’s hard to be more precise because there’re so many.”

  Ahead of them, the doors were now permanently wedged open by a large group that were pouring through; the flashbang and gunshots obviously having been enough to attract the infected roaming around the hospital towards them. And the horde at the main entrance would soon no doubt begin to search for fresh meat, the only upside Jack could think of was that it’d take time for them to make it through the hospital to their location. The downside was that he didn’t know how many had been roaming through the corridors in pursuit of the private security agents. A couple of dozen had forced their way into the corridor now, stampeding on stiff limbs with ravenous delight towards Jack and Smith. They trampled over the corpses and surged forward, and it seemed there were always more behind them - wave after wave of encroaching undead faces.

  Aware that if he made his way back to the other stairwell too quickly Tyrone wouldn’t be ready for them and they’d be forced to retreat further, Jack too
k aim and prepared to fire. He lined up the first shot, keeping his rifle on semi-automatic, and squeezed the trigger; a dull thump issued from the weapon followed by a report in the target - a soft, wet sound as the bullet tore through the forehead and scrambled its brain. The infected fell back but was tossed forward by the momentum of the group behind it, to be crushed underfoot as they continued their march towards living flesh. Jack immediately lined up a second target while continuing his calculated retreat; he fired again, switching immediately to a third. Smith was engaging the enemy too, keeping herself at Jack’s side while systematically gunning down infected. For every one that dropped though, there was another just behind them, but Jack did his best to maintain his discipline and refused to panic. He fired precise shots, some of which passed through to hit a second target behind, and then moved on to the next one.