A shiver went through Burrows. “Yeah ok doc. Don’t mean I wanna touch it or even be near it.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” Manson slid back across the floor to the microscope. “This is a revolutionary moment in scientific history and you’re being squeamish.” The doctor let out a strange sound that might have been a chuckle.
“So what? Did you find out how to cure the virus after just two days of looking at that thing’s blood?”
Manson made the chuckling sound again, longer and louder this time. “No, not at all. But…” He licked his lips, staring at the blood splotch on the slide under the magnified scope. “This is an incredible find. Compared to the other samples I have from the infected specimens two years ago, this one is a completely different strand of the virus.” Manson’s voice rose as he spoke.
“Yeah, and what’s that mean doc?”
The doctor looked up from his instrument annoyed. “It means the virus is mutating. Adapting perhaps? Those fast-moving infected people are still early on in the contagion process. You can see the LRS-10 hasn’t completely wasted them away. This one still has defining muscles and is still physically fit. But many in the hive out back were further along with the infection and they still were able to move around quickly, even with great injuries or muscle dystrophy.”
Burrows just stared at the doctor, looking as though he was trying to read the subtitles to what Manson was saying.
The scientist sighed and gave the soldier a sly smile. “It’s just interesting. That’s all. I’m sure I can learn about the infection and perhaps find a means to slow it down. It’s the first step in my treating the virus and finding a cure.”
The door behind Burrows opened and Ben came walking in. Manson threw himself backwards in his chair and went wheeling back into the stall and he quickly closed the door. The scientist stood up from his chair and brushed himself off.
“Dr. Manson.” Ben said, standing timidly at the entrance.
This makeshift laboratory that Manson had constructed was strangely put together and had a weird vibe. There were books stacked and piled in the corner, microscopes and slide kits arranged on the counter and countless beakers and burners and tongs and goggles and disinfectant and flasks and other science equipment that was available in the store. If the mad scientist couldn’t find anything, he made do with substitutes.
“Yes Benjamin?” Manson flushed the toilet and exited the stall, closing the door quickly. He pulled the rubber gloves from his hands and went to wash up at the sink.
“We need you to go to the front entrance of the store.”
“Hm. Why is that?” The scientist looked irritated, rolling his eyes at the idea of leaving his lab.
“Well, Bates went outside and… he may have been infected.”
“Shit.” Burrows lowered his head.
Manson put back on his glasses and looked elated. “Did he get bit? Has he turned yet? How is he?” The scientist rushed across the room.
Ben had to back up when Manson got right in his face. “Uh… the boys killed him. But it didn’t look like he had turned yet.” Ben stepped back again to give himself more room to breathe. “We need you to find out if he was really infected or not.”
“Fuck, Bates’ is dead?” Burrows shook his head, finding it hard to come to grips with the news.
“Damn it! They killed him?” Manson threw his hands up, his anger making him more animated than usual. Then he quickly regained his composure, feeling the eyes in the room on him. “That’s fine. The sample may still be intact, and I can compare it with my latest specimen.”
“Huh?” Ben looked around the rest room and when he and Burrows met eyes, the soldier looked away. “What’s going on…?” He said, trailing off and feeling the weird vibe of the room grow deeper.
Manson snatched up a heavy leather bag from the fold-out table near the diaper changing station. “Let’s hurry before the host kills off the specimen.” Putting the bag under his arm, the scientist shoved Ben out the bathroom.
Burrows followed, but Manson told the soldier to stay and make sure no one entered his lab. The scientist hurried towards the entrance to the store with Ben jogging after him through the aisles.
At the front entrance of the store, a small crowd was starting to form as more and more voices shouted out, asking the soldiers who were waiting there what was going on. With dozens of questions being thrown at them, Rico and Bryant, were overwhelmed just trying to calm everyone down.
“We heard gun shots!” a voice cried out.
“What’s going on?” another asked.
Bryant held his hands up with a nervous smile on his face. “Please. Everyone just relax. It’s nothing to be concerned with.”
“What’s happening out there? Is it those freaks?” The old man, Clint, had stepped out in front of the crowd and rubbed at his eye patch.
“Look, there’s nothing to worry about.” Rico wasn’t prepared to handle this mob. “Captain Baker is…” He stopped when a loud banging at the shutter door called his attention. Rico went to the entrance and looked through the peep hole and saw the captain and his men. “Oh, thank god.”
After working to get the shutters open and getting everyone inside, Baker and his men were met with a barrage of questions. People were trying to get a look outside through the boarded-up windows, but none of them were satisfied with what they could see. The survivors in the store mobbed the two new faces, Antonio and Miles, who were entering the Costco behind the soldiers. When questions started being thrown at Captain Baker, he didn’t even attempt to try explaining the situation. Antonio, however, was only too thrilled to answer any questions he heard being called out.
“What happened? Did you go out there to take out those freaks?” A woman shouted out.
“Naw, they wasn’t freaks. They was a hive.” Antonio pointed over his shoulder with a cocky grin. “It was like a hundred of them! They turned into a madhouse too! But we took care of it! We got rid of all them ugly ass strikers for you.”
“Yeah, yeah!” Miles was nodding his head and jumping around as he flexed his small muscles. “We did it! We did it! We got rid of the hive!”
Antonio began to strut, boasting about their accomplishment. “It wasn’t nothin’. We took care of them for y’all and Mr. Captain Baker helped us with his men. They did they thing. But y’all lucky me and my brother showed up.” The cocky teen brushed his nose with his thumb, smiling a proud smile.
“Yeah, you guys is lucky! So lucky!” Miles put his hands up in a raise-the-roof fashion, smiling a crooked smile.
“Them strikers had eaters wit ‘em too.”
“Eaters?” Someone asked, confused.
“Yeah. That’s when a infected person so hungry that they kill you and eat you like a zombie.” Antonio clarified, and a few people groaned at the thought of it.
“But it’s not a zombie. It’s just hungry. Infected people ain’t zombies.” Miles added.
“I know that Miles.” Antonio let out an irritated groan, “But they eat people like a zombie.”
“They not zombies. They not dead, you can kill them. They sick. They all sick. But there ain’t no cure.”
Antonio sighed, “Everybody know that.”
“You two kids were out there fighting those freaks?” Another bystander asked.
“Yeah. We lost them in the woods.”
“They called strikers. They called strikers.” Miles corrected. “It was a hive of them and we lost them in the woods. Yeah, we lost them in the woods.”
Baker watched the kids and just shook his head. “Close the door,” He said to one of the men standing near the shutter door chains.
“Where’s Bates and Anderson?” Bryant asked, hesitant but still curious.
Baker just stared at him and said again, “Close the door.”
“Captain!” A booming voice came up over the crowd and everyone turned to see Major Carver approaching with fire in his eyes. “Restrain those boys right now!”
&
nbsp; Baker saw the disbelief on the boys’ faces. “Sir?” The captain questioned the major.
“Restrain them, Captain Baker! Those two are murderers!” Carver coughed.
Baker paused, but still nodded to Lincoln and Torrez to take the boys and put their arms behind their backs.
“What the hell? This is bullshit! Antonio was shouting vehemently. “We just took care of those strikers for you! Just got rid of a fuckin’ hive!”
“And then you killed one of my men in cold blood,” Carver said when he made his way through the crowds and the people parted as he came.
“He was infected! He was about to turn!” Miles wasn’t as aggressive as his brother but was just as upset about being held captive.
“We watched you on the monitors. We saw you shoot him. He didn’t look infected to us and you killed him anyway.” Carver looked out at the crowd and prepared to address them, when Baker put a hand on his shoulder.
“Sir, I don’t think this is right,” Captain Baker whispered.
Carver shook the captain’s hand off his shoulder and looked him up and down for a moment. “I’ll say what is and isn’t right.” The major continued with a voice of restraint. “This is about protecting this community, Baker. You know better than anyone what that means.”
Carver raised his hands to the people and they slowly started to quiet.
“Wait! Don’t close that door yet! Open it!” Manson came squirming through the audience, clutching his bag and made his way to the shutter doors; just as they were lowered shut. “Raise it back up! Open the door.”
“Manson, what the hell are you doing here?” Carver asked.
“The specimen! I have to get the specimen before it dies!” The scientist looked at the soldiers and pointed at Torrez and Lincoln. “You two, come with me. I may need help while I examine the body.”
“The body?” a voice from the crowd echoed.
“Manson!” Carver shouted.
Ben appeared next, stepping out from the crowd. “We need to check him. To find out if the boys were right.”
“You’ve got to be…” Carver rolled his eyes and rolled his head too, putting a hand to his face.
Lesly’s shrill voice could be heard from behind the masses, “Excuse me everyone!” Faces started turning to give her their attention. “Could you just come with me to the food court, I can try explaining everything there!”
Carver was grinding his teeth and whipped his head around when he heard the shutter door starting to screech open behind him. Before he could say anything, Manson was throwing his leather bag under the door and getting down to crawl through the opening.
“Damn it!” The major growled. His control seemed to be unraveling with each passing second and he blamed those two boys for the anarchy.
“Should… should we go with him?” Lincoln was feeling overwhelmed with everything happening so fast, but still understood the order of command and asked the major what they should do.
“Go,” Carver rumbled. Then he looked at Ben, standing in front of the crowd that was trying to decide between staying and leaving with Lesly. The major took a breath, put on a feigned smile and addressed the people. “Please, everyone, go with Lesly to the food court. We’ll explain everything. There have been some new developments and we just want everyone to stay calm.”
Reassured by Carver’s words, more of the audience turned to leave with the store manager as she led the way. Some lingered behind, hoping to see something of interest or get their questions answered by the major directly. But when he waved them off, they went without argument. Lance was one of the many lingerers who stared down the major with that same sneer he had been wearing since the day his wife went with Franklin and the others on their venture outside. Carver sucked the back of his teeth and cleared his throat, spitting on the floor before stamping it with his boot.
Lance still blamed the major for allowing his wife to go with the search party. Carver didn’t feel responsible for her decision, nor did he feel responsible for the groups apparent disappearance. The major believed it was suicide for anyone to leave the store and felt no remorse if they wound up dead.
Carver looked back at his men and grabbed the boys from Torrez and Lincoln. “Hurry up and go so we can get this door shut!” The major shouted and the men moved.
Outside in the parking lot, Manson stood waiting, watching the slow moving freaks stumble about in small numbers. He could probably count them all on one hand, give or take one or two. Lincoln came crawling out first, then Torrez followed, and before either of them could stand up, the scientist was bombarding them with questions.
“Where is it? Where is the body? How compromised is it?” Manson was scanning the lot and pushed his glasses up on the ridge of his nose.
“What?” Lincoln scratched his head in confusion.
“Where is the body?”
Torrez pointed and Manson went sprinting in that direction; the two soldiers followed, watching the infected cautiously. When the scientist got to Bates’ body he recognized the head scarf and dropped to one knee to examine the body closely. He saw the scratch or scrape on the arm and the bullet wound to the head and the scientist sucked his teeth. It would’ve been incredible to have a live host to study. Manson put down his leather duffle bag and opened it, pulling out his sample kit and a pair of gloves.
“This is amazing. To have a specimen so early in the stages of infection.” Manson whispered to himself.
“Shouldn’t we take the body inside the building? Maybe give him a proper burial or something?” Torrez said, shaking his head and feeling sorry for Bates.
“No. I don’t need the whole body.” Manson glossed over the question, not really paying attention. He stabbed the injured arm of Bates with a syringe and pulled out as much blood as the vial could hold. He took a small knife and cut around the scar to remove the skin tissue and placed it in a ziplock bag. Then he took a cotton swab and stuck it in Bates’ mouth, gathering saliva before placing the swab in its own vial. “This is enough. Thank you, gentlemen. Your help wasn’t exactly necessary but nonetheless, I appreciate you’re ever protecting presence.”
After putting all his equipment away and preparing to take his gloves off. Manson stood and turned back towards the store. The two soldiers watched him start to leave but delayed as they tried to lift the body from the ground. Manson glanced over his shoulder, annoyed with the two men’s stalling. Then he saw Dr. Chakrabarti approaching with his medical bag in tow.
“It’s fine. I’ve already gathered my samples. The body can stay out here. No need to overexert.” Manson was carefree with his words and pushed his glasses back on his face.
“That doesn’t mean I can’t get my own samples.” Chakrabarti shook his head at the emotionless scientist who scoffed at him as he passed. “Did you get one from Anderson’s body too?”
Manson perked up and spun around. “Anderson? He was infected too?”
“If you had been in the monitor room with the rest of us, you would’ve known this.” When Chakrabarti reached the two soldiers he took over carrying Bates’ body to give Torrez the option to protect them with his weapon.
“Where? Where is Anderson?” Manson asked and Torrez pointed.
The scientist looked and saw the distorted remains of Anderson’s body nearby. He moved so abruptly that Chakrabarti wasn’t even able to suggest that Anderson may have been too far gone to examine. The scientist wasn’t listening anyway. Manson made his way over to Anderson and stood over the corpse. Lincoln called out to him and Manson quickly reached down to grab a handful of guts and remains before a lumbering freak got nearly close enough to grab him.
“What the hell are you doin’ Manson?” Torrez lifted his weapon, but the freak was so slow that killing it wasn’t worth the ammo or the noise.
“That’s Doctor Manson.” The scientist corrected the soldier and pulled off his rubber glove, folding it over the remains to bag the pieces; being careful to hold it with his other gloved hand. “
Beautiful.” Manson said as he admired the baggy and looked back at Anderson’s corpse. A faint whiff hit the scientist’s nose and he turned away; sure that Anderson had soiled himself when he died. Manson took off when the freak lurched at him again.
Back inside the store, Carver was making his way to the food court with the two brothers; their wrists tied with zip ties. Antonio wasn’t very happy about this, but Carver still shoved them along, down an empty aisle; all the items either moved or used up. The boys were dragged through the store and led to the food court where people were sitting at the tables waiting and eager for an explanation. Lesly was coordinating with servers and passing out plates of BBQ baked beans. It was early for dinner, but she figured it’d be the best way to get everyone to relax. It worked too. Many people were chowing down and distracted by Lesly’s bright plum smile while she went around trying to make sure everyone was taken care of. She was ever the dutiful store servant.
When the major reached the center of the food court—where Lesly was standing over a punch bowl of baked beans from four large cans that had been cooking earlier—Carver shoved the boys down to kneel in front of the table where the food was being served.
“How’s everyone doing Lesly?” The major asked, and, although Lesly prepared to answer him, his question was more meant for the audience, who were ready to respond.
“What the hell is going on Major Carver?” one man stood from a table.
“We heard gun shots and horns outside?” A second man spoke up.
“Are the monsters still outside?” A woman’s voice joined in.
“Who are these kids?” The next voice shouted.
Carver raised a hand, quelling the rising questions. “Everyone please, please. There’s two important points that you should be informed on that will mostly answer many of your questions.” The major circled around to see all the people gathered. This wasn’t the whole community, but it was enough of the core to inform everyone else in the store. “First, the swarm of infected outside have been dealt with. We’re no longer in danger and it’s thanks to Captain Baker and his men.” Carver put his hand up to Baker and a slow applause started, though the captain seemed uncomfortable in the limelight.
Two Alive Page 18