The Night

by Steinwachs, Mark

  The rear passenger door of the vehicle opened. “Bosh! Get in here,” Dr. Ayers yelled.

  “Will!” was all Janice could reply before she got blindsided. Her body contorted around the attacker’s body and she grunted as air was forced from her lungs. Their bodies hit the runway in a tangled heap. Janice kicked out as hard as she could and sent her attacker rolling a few feet away from her.

  “Bosh!” Dr. Ayers yelled.

  “Oh, shit!” Agent Betzon’s voice carried on top of the doctor’s.

  “I got it, I got it!” Randall called out and raised his pistol.

  Janice looked up to see her attacker scrambling back towards her. A tattered shirt hung from his cut and bruised upper body. He looked more like a wild animal than a human. With open mouth he lunged towards her.

  Janice saw a bullet rip through the shoulder of her attacker. He spun sideways from the force of the projectile and dropped to the ground. His shoulder hung limp as he pushed himself back up with his good arm.

  Agent Jeffries’ voice brought Janice back. “Dr. Boshifski, get in the car! Now!”

  She rolled onto all fours and pushed herself up, and saw each agent fire another shot, both men hitting their targets. Janice took in the scene around her as she darted to the SUV. There were at least twenty bodies on the ground, some still moving. More people were sliding out of the planes and onto the tarmac heading nowhere, trying to escape the chaos around them but making more in the process.

  Janice got within a few feet of the vehicle, and the other FBI agent ducked back into the SUV and pulled his door shut. The front passenger door opened and Janice glimpsed Agent Jeffries closing in behind her. She half dove, half fell into the back seat, panting heavily. Her door slammed shut. Agent Jeffries landed in the front seat and Agent Betzon mashed the gas pedal. The SUV roared to life and sped down the crowded runway. Agent Betzon swerved through the bodies lying on the ground and those still standing. People shouted and frantically waved as he roared past. Pat drove under the terminal, made a hard right turn and was back on the service road that led out of the airport.

  “What the hell happened, Randall?” Pat said as he sped on the empty road.

  “Someone said they were bit and it all went south real fast. At least I got her out,” Randall replied between breaths. “Did you see the other planes? This is bad. I don’t know what it is, but ...”

  “Excuse me,” Janice cut off the agent, her voiced raised but it still resonated with control and focus. “What the hell is going on? Will? Why are you here? Why is the FBI shooting people on a plane? Why is the FBI pulling me off a plane? What the hell?”

  Randall turned to the people in the backseat. “We were sent to get you back to the CDC. There has been—been—well, to be honest, we don’t know, an outbreak or a terrorist attack or both. Dr. Ayers will be able to fill you in better on the medical end. Just let us get you there.”

  Janice looked at her colleague from the CDC. “Will, what’s going on?”

  “A lot,” William began as he pulled out papers with notes scribbled all over them, “and none of it is going like we thought it might. You’ll see.”

  As Janice looked at the notes in her partner’s hands, she felt the vehicle turn and speed up. They were on I-85 and she knew, with the car’s lights and siren on, she had less than twenty minutes to get up to speed. “Okay. What do we know so far? Anything and everything. Talk fast.”

  The SUV sped up even more, weaving through traffic. Janice could tell Agent Betzon was an experienced driver; his maneuvers were smooth and precise. William looked at his notes and started to read, “Reports from all over the East Coast: New York City, Philly, Buffalo, Pittsburgh, Washington, DC, Charlotte, even here. I mean everywhere, Bosh. People in hospitals pronounced dead that weren’t. I mean, they were dead, but then they came back to life and started attacking people. These reports are from hospitals, Bosh. Hospitals. Doctors and nurses. They can’t be confused or lying. The patients started acting crazy and attacking the hospital staff. It’s like …” he trailed off, then continued. “While I’ve been with the FBI waiting for you, I’ve been getting flooded with emails. Seems like it’s starting to spread west. I won’t read off the cities. It’s all of them. We are also following reports of people with ‘rabies-like symptoms’ who are attacking people on the streets.”

  The SUV jerked to the left, hard. Janice slammed into the side of the vehicle and William tumbled into her. “Sorry,” Agent Betzon said. Janice looked out the window; the traffic was sparse. They were going ninety-five down the highway, blowing by the other cars as if they were standing still. It’s rush hour. Where is everyone?

  William continued. “This is where we are right now. Contact has been made with the White House and we are awaiting response. USAMRIID is online with us and information sharing has begun. Dr. Peltree reached out to her contacts there as well, just to make sure the army isn’t trying to cover up something. We have sent out a recommendation to every state medical official to contact the proper authorities and advise everyone to stay in their homes, and only emergency personnel should report to their jobs.”

  William let out a long sigh. “Basically, we’ve asked to shut down the country.”

  Janice looked at him, absorbing the information, letting it sink in. “Will, this is bad, really bad. Do you know what was said to the White House? How far west? West Coast, too? Peltree? What about Director Milsap?”

  “We are starting to get information from hospitals on the West Coast. I think it’s going to get worse,” William replied. “All hospitals that have had an attack are locked down, or are supposed to be. No one going out and those coming in are being dealt with case by case. Again, this is all hearsay. We’ve got our people heading to hospitals all over the Southeast right now. Here in Atlanta we’re sending staff to Emory, Shepherd, Wesley, Piedmont, and Kennestone. They will be collecting samples and bringing them back to the lab to begin studying and testing. No one has heard from Director Milsap, so Dr. Peltree is in charge.”

  “Jesus,” Janice said, “could this be it? How did it start? Where did it start? We aren’t ready. We could never be ready. I only hope people will listen.”

  “So do I, Bosh. So do I.”

  The conversation lulled and Agent Jeffries turned to face her and Will. “What’s going on out there, Dr. Boshifski? Is some supervirus about to run rampant on the world? We’ve all lived through the ‘latest, greatest superbug’ that was going to infect the planet, but it never did. This is different, isn’t it?”

  Janice collected her thoughts as she watched the world speed by outside. Another mile and they would be off the highway onto Freedom Parkway and then a few minutes after that at her office. Agent Jeffries would be her first test. He’s seen it up close. If she can’t convince him, she will be in a world of hurt later. “Can I say for certain this is different? No, I can’t. Not yet. Soon I will be able to, and I will. I know what I think it is. I know what Dr. Ayers thinks it is.”

  Janice stopped, leveling her gaze on the FBI agent in the front seat. Looking into the eyes of the man who quite possibly saved her life, she said, “You know what it is. Tell me, Agent Jeffries. What do you think it is?”

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Boshifski. I heard everything you said, but I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  He was about to continue when Agent Betzon interjected, “Hang on, guys!”

  He slowed the SUV to sixty miles per hour, and adeptly turned the wheel right. Tires screeched as he took the exit ramp at a speed that for an average driver would have been much too quick. Everyone leaned left, holding on to whatever they could to not be thrown into one another. Janice could have sworn she felt the right two tires hit the ground as Pat straightened the car’s path and picked up speed.

  Dr. Ayers broke the silence this time. “There are many things that are not possible. Until they happen, that is, Agent Jeffries.”

  Agent Jeffries looked from him back to Dr. Boshifski. “There’s no way
it can be, but there’s no way that it can’t be. They aren’t real. It’s fantasy. Horror movies and video games.”

  Janice knew what it was; Dr. Ayers knew what it was. It would be her job to convince as many people as she could of what it was. It started right here with the two men in the front of the SUV. “Say it, Agent Jeffries.” Her voice burned with cold detachment.

  “Zombies.” He shook his head. “Shit—”

  “Shit!” Pat’s voice erupted from the driver’s seat. He slammed the brakes hard and spun the wheel to the right but it was too late. Dr. Ayers was thrown against his door as Janice tumbled into him. Agent Jeffries grunted as the seatbelt awkwardly caught his body. Pat held on to the wheel as his body hit the door. A pedestrian slammed into the corner of the front bumper, spun up on the hood, and then off the side.

  The SUV shuddered and Pat strained to keep control of it. His hands wrenched the wheel back and forth, trying not to overcorrect. The car slammed against the side of the highway barricade, the passenger side crunching in. He used it to help slow the SUV and feathered his brakes to finish the job. He turned it to the left getting it away from the barricade as he came to a grinding halt. Smoke billowed from around the engine, and the smell of burnt rubber and overheated metal filled the cabin. The SUV’s front axle was cracked, causing the nose to dip towards the ground. The driver’s front corner was smashed; the wheel totally shredded in pieces behind them.

  “Is everyone okay?” Pat asked. His question was answered by groans, not screaming, so he figured there were no serious injuries.

  Randall undid the seatbelt and drew his pistol. “What the hell?” He said.

  “He came out of nowhere,” Pat said, drawing his own pistol. “You okay back there?”

  Both doctors muttered in response as they righted themselves.

  Pat surveyed the situation from his seat. There wasn’t anyone in the immediate area. “Okay. We are right at the edge of Freedom Park and Ponce de Leon. We’re going to head down Ponce on foot. Double-time. I will take point. Agent Jeffries will be behind us. You two will do what we say, when we say, how we say. No questions. My goal is to commandeer another vehicle along the way. I will go first. Wait for my signal.”

  He slid out and looked back at the body. It crawled towards them, a broken mass of flesh. It kept moving closer, mangled legs dragging along the ground. Pat brought his pistol up. The shot echoed over the empty street. “Let’s go.”

  Dr. Ayers opened his door, pushing himself out with Janice following behind. When both of them were out, Pat started off at a fast jogging pace, both doctors fell in line behind. Randall was right behind them, keeping up easily.

  The sun beamed with white puffy clouds dotting the sky to intermittently block its rays, a perfect spring day in Atlanta. They ran the first block up to Barnett and were already sweating. Some cars drove by them but they were going too fast to be flagged down. No one in any of the cars seemed to notice or care that four people were jogging down the street, two of which were armed and dressed in suits. Agent Betzon halted the group at the next corner. There was a Ford Explorer in the parking lot.

  “Randall,” Pat said when the four of them got together, “we’re never going to stop someone. I’m going to hotwire this thing.”

  Before Randall could respond, his partner smashed the window with the butt of his pistol, shattering the glass. He put his weapon on the seat and opened the door. Getting under the steering wheel, he began to work on the car. The rest of the group kept a lookout, either for help or trouble.

  After a couple minutes Randall began to get impatient. “You going to get this thing going?” he asked

  “Almost got it. Just another minute. Calm down,” Pat tersely replied.

  A woman’s voice cried out in terror, “Help! Help me! He bit me! He’s going crazy! Help!” Everyone but Pat, who was still working on the car, turned to see a woman running across the street in their direction. “Help! Please! He’s going crazy!”

  Randall put his finger on the trigger but kept his gun low and out of sight. “It’s all right. Get behind the car. I’m with the FBI,” he called out to the woman. “Hurry up, Pat,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

  The woman was almost to their side of the street. She was dressed in sweatpants and a nurse’s scrub top with long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail; blood dripped from her hand and arm. “Thank God! Thank …”

  Janice heard the gun go off and in the corner of her eye she caught Randall’s arm recoiling slightly. The woman’s body snapped back, kicked out from under her as she slammed to the ground.

  “Christ!” Janice yelled, “What the—”

  “She was bitten.” Randall cut her off. “It’s a new world. You made me say it. You’re right. Now we have to deal with it. We don’t have time to ask questions. We couldn’t save her.”

  The car roared to life, ending the conversation. Pat pulled himself up onto the driver’s seat, ignoring the glass from the broken window. “Let’s go, guys,”

  The doctors got in the back seat as Randall moved around to the other side of the car. Everyone saw the commotion from the front door of the building where the dead woman had come from. People were spilling out of it now, fleeing. Screams and cries erupted as people ran, a scene all too familiar to the group.

  One of the people spotted Randall and started towards him. The man never saw the car coming. The brakes squealed, but it was too late. He hit the hood and bounced over it. The driver, unable to keep control, spun his vehicle to the right, skidded on the grass, and slammed into a tree.

  Randall got in his seat. “Go!” he said before he had the door shut.

  His partner gunned it back onto Ponce de Leon and towards the CDC. They were only a few miles away.

  Everyone sat in strained silence. The sound of the air whipping in the vehicle from the broken window drowned out any hope of talking, not that anyone wanted to at this point. Each of them were alone with their own thoughts, contemplating them, wondering where they went from here.

  Janice sat looking out the window, the FBI agents speeding her towards her destiny. Her mind played over the events and information at hand, analyzing every detail. She thought about the people she had seen injured or killed; the ones she couldn’t stop to help.

  They rounded the corner to the CDC. Janice was shocked to see the area cordoned off by armed military personnel. Pat pulled the Explorer to a stop at the roadblock of marine Humvees. After a short discussion, respective badges being shown, and a brief radio conversation between the Marine and an unknown voice, they were allowed through.

  Agent Betzon pulled up to the front of the building where Janice’s office was. As they were all getting out of the vehicle, Agent Jeffries explained that they would remain with the doctors, as per their orders, until further notice.

  ***

  Janice turned her head from the tech wiring up the camera in front of her over to Dr. Ayers. “Look, Will,” she began, “I don’t know how I’m going to tell the President of the United States, not to mention everyone else in the meeting, that the country is being overrun by zombies.”

  William looked at his clipboard. “Bosh, look at the information at hand. We have eyewitness accounts from doctors and nurses, ones that you know and trust, as well as reports that match theirs coming in from all over the country.”

  “I am aware of that, Will,” she replied, her thumb and index finger rubbing her temples. “You know that I agree with you. You know that there are plenty of people here that agree with you. I just can’t say it without hard evidence. Even if we had proof it would be a tough sell … damn, why couldn’t we have a few more hours?”

  Another doctor entered Janice’s office, “Here is the latest information.” He spread the map of the United States across her desk. Red circles densely covered the continental US, with a few in Hawaii and Alaska.

  Janice looked from the map to the man that presented it, Dr. Garrett Pasek.

  She looked back to the map. �
��Those are all the reports? Already? How did this spread so fast? Do you have any leads yet at all, Garrett?”

  “Nothing. I’ve never seen anything like this. I have computers running all the 911 calls since 12:01 this morning. I’ve gotten some hits, but they are within minutes of each other. I don’t know. I need more time, Bosh.”

  Janice looked at the map, red everywhere. “What if there is no Patient Zero?”

  The other two doctors looked at her, but before anyone could say a word, the tech spoke. “You are on with the president, Dr. Boshifski.” She watched him slip out of the room.

  Janice looked up at the large monitor in front of her. Once again her ability to react quickly came to her aid. “Good morning, Mr. President.”

  The camera was focused on President Stephen Lansing, but kept wide enough where she could see other people in the room. She knew the Surgeon General, Dr. Young, and the head of USAMRIID, General Coleman, but that was it. She could see other men and women crowding the War Room. Papers were strewn about the large, pristinely polished table. Monitors were along the walls showing news feeds from various outlets.

  The president began. “Welcome, Dr. Boshifski. I’m glad you made it back safe. I heard about your troubles at the airport.” He turned away from her and addressed the others in the room. “This is Dr. Janice Boshifski from the CDC. She has been leading a small research team studying the viability of a mass viral outbreak of an unknown origin. She and her team are the most well equipped to assist us at this time.

  “Before we get to you, Doctor, Director Kimball was about to say something.”

  The camera panned and Janice saw Tom Kimball, Director of Homeland Security. He was dressed in jeans and a polo shirt and Janice realized that other than the president and the members of the military, everyone was dressed casually. Mr. Kimball looked around the room, his eyes were bloodshot and puffy. “How can we—” he began. His voice broke and he stopped. His body shuddered and he put his hand to his eyes, wiping away the tears that formed. He started again. “How can we—you, me, anyone—demand that anyone connected with Homeland Security must report to their jobs? I—” he started sobbing. “That wasn’t her. That wasn’t my daughter. I don’t know.” Tears streamed down his face. He looked at the president. “How can you, sir? It’s not fair. People won’t do it.” He put his head in his hands, still crying.