The Z Directive (Book 2): Mutation

by Thompson, Chris

  “Yes.”

  “So, what was it that sparked the interest in a biological collection device on a satellite?”

  “You think it might have had something to do with the United Space Project’s space station?”

  “I’m not sure what to make of it at this point, but something prompted someone in a position of power to install a biological collection device. I think they’re both dots that are separated by a lot of empty space at this point, but I also think that there may be a thread that connects them. Is there anything else, Elizabeth?”

  “Well, according to my information, Haddenfield was deployed by the Coalition at the behest of the Faradistani Government to deal with a group of extremists. After completing his mission, the General and his team were on their way back to the United States when their plane was destroyed, the evidence suggesting an explosion within the cabin. There were no survivors, and no bodies were recovered - despite an extensive search operation by both Coalition units and the Faradistani military.”

  “Convenient.”

  “You think so?”

  “Well, it was a perfect way to fake his death.”

  “Then you might be interested to know that Carl Sutton was one of the soldiers attached to Haddenfield’s unit for that operation,” Hall informed him. Maxwell smiled.

  “You could’ve led with that.”

  “I usually only get to deliver bad news, sir, I wanted this to have a bit more of a moment.”

  “Well, well, a sense of dramatic timing too. Your résumé can’t get more impressive, Elizabeth,” Maxwell stated, smiling before taking a long pull on his cigarette. “I’d like to see the investigation reports on the wreckage as well as anything the Faradistani’s chose to share with us.”

  “I’m sending the information to you now, sir,” Hall informed him, and then she unexpectedly heard a familiar voice in her earpiece.

  “Hall, it’s Jack. We’re inside the first sub-level security room,” he told her hurriedly.

  “Major Ramsay, I’m going to put you on speaker so that you can brief General Maxwell directly,” Hall told him, tapping on her tablet.

  Over the next several minutes, Jack relayed what they had learned of the destruction of the Redshield Facility, as well as its self-destruct device. By the time he had concluded his update, Maxwell was putting his cigarette out in the ashtray on his desk.

  “Is Gabriel confident he can disarm both devices?”

  “He says it’s impossible to tell whether he’ll be able to without getting his hands on them. There’re no schematics in the system that he’s been able to locate other than a description of what they’d do if they were activated. That said, he’s fairly confident that neither of them are in the early stages of activation yet.”

  “Is there any evidence that whoever was remotely operating the system before is still doing so?” Maxwell questioned.

  “Bridges doesn’t think so, but he admitted they could be covering their tracks, meaning they’re still in the system but simply lying dormant for the time being.”

  “Let’s hope they continue to do so while you’re on site.”

  “I’d be surprised if they did, Maxwell. I tend not to be that lucky,” Jack responded coldly.

  “What’s your next step?”

  “Using Jeff’s card we’re going to take an elevator down to the second floor and scope it out. Unfortunately, because of the tiered layers of security, we’re going in blind: we don’t know what purpose the second floor served, what the level of undead will be, or even the layout. Jeff thinks there’s a security station on each floor, so when we get down there we’ll try to find it. Hopefully it’ll be near the elevators, as it is on this floor,” Jack answered.

  “Keep me updated. And Jack?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Be careful,” Maxwell instructed.

  “As careful as we can be.”

  Jack closed out the line. Hall looked at Maxwell curiously.

  “Sir, it seems to me that there’s either a dissident within Bolvinox who is working against them, or there’s another party attempting to destroy them - perhaps to claim the research,” Hall declared.

  “It certainly seems that way, doesn’t it? Pull the Bolvinox data again and send it to me, as well as anything you can get on this United Space Project. I want to review it while we wait for the next update on Jack’s progress,” Maxwell ordered.

  “Yes, sir,” Hall responded, turning to leave the office. She peeked over her shoulder as she did so and saw Maxwell lifting the lid on his laptop. She couldn’t help wondering what it was he was working so secretly on.

  Chapter Six

  PRIOR TO SUMMONING one of the elevators from below, Jack, Tyrone, Bridges and Smith dropped one of the vending machines across the doorway to slow down any infected that might spill out from the cab, before forming a firing line a few paces away so they could quickly slaughter any threats. Fortunately, the elevator had been mostly unoccupied - only mostly because it did contain skeletonized remains loosely covered in scraps of clothing. The laminated badge identified one as Clive Williams, Head of Level One Security. Taking that and his keycard, which Jack tossed to Bridges, having already decided he would be staying on that floor, he and Tyrone then quickly cleared the elevator of bodies so they could occupy the space more easily. The confined space, however, made the stench of blood and death almost overwhelming. Regardless, they pushed on, managing to stand the vending machine upright and manoeuvre it inside before laying it on its side again, which barely fitted and then only with scarcely an inch gap on either side.

  “We’ll never get that out now,” Bridges complained.

  “Why would you want to?” Smith wanted to know.

  “We could be down here for a while. When you’re looking for chocolatey goodness, now you’ve got to go poking around in a blood-soaked vending machine.”

  “I’ll survive,” Smith told him dryly.

  “So, who’re the lucky ones who are going down into the unknown zombie hell hole?” Ridgewell asked, leaning against the wall outside the elevator.

  “Smith, Ty and me first. Once we’ve cleared out the initial space, come join us and we’ll push through to the security office together. Although, if the next floor layout is the same as here, that’ll be a shorter trip than we think.”

  “Bossman, I’ve connected our comms to both the local and external access communications line, so we should be able to communicate easily between floors and with home base,” Bridges announced. “Also, I tried to look at the camera feeds for the floor below, but it says I’m not authorized, so you’ll need to check in their security office.”

  “Fine.”

  Emma didn’t look entirely pleased.

  “Something wrong, Doctor?” Tyrone asked, obviously seeing the same expression on her face Jack had.

  “I can be more than just a passenger to be escorted between floors,” she declared hotly.

  “Of course, but you’re our expert on the virus - or at least the closest thing we have to an expert. We need to make sure you’re kept as safe as possible so you can review any data we retrieve from the lower levels,” Tyrone explained. “You proved yourself quite capable in Dewbury.”

  “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” she said, though her tone was a little sarcastic.

  “It’s the nicest thing he’s ever said to anyone,” Jack commented with a grin.

  “Fuck you.”

  “And he’s back,” Jack said, while leaning over to swipe the Jeff’s keycard through the reader inside the elevator, and then he pressed the flat metal button with a ‘2’on it. “We’ll be in touch when we’ve checked out the next floor.”

  Emma nodded, though her sour expression definitely changed to one of concern. It lay in her eyes, and as they fell on Jack, he felt the concern was largely for him.

  The doors shut and the elevator began to rumble downwards. Having no idea how far it was between floors or what reception they would r
eceive when the doors opened again, the trio stood back with their weapons raised; Smith to Jack’s right and Tyrone to his left. Music started to play. It was coming from a speaker in the panel, a cheerful number that would’ve been a toe tapper if the floor wasn’t covered in blood and the elevator didn’t reek with the smell of death. After about twenty seconds the elevator slowed, then stopped. The music ceased and there was a soft, almost welcoming ding, and then doors began to slide apart revealing yet another stomach-churning scene of carnage and slaughter. Blood adorned almost every inch of the floor, with spatter and arterial spurts spraying up the walls and onto the ceiling. Skeletal hands, held together with fragments of tissue, were elevated by arm bones as though the pitiful remains were clawing at the air.

  “There’re so many bodies,” Smith commented.

  “Yeah,” Tyrone agreed, continuing to scan the area with his weapon for any suggestion of movement.

  “No, I mean there are too many bodies.” Smith declared, drawing Jack’s attention to her momentarily.

  “What do you mean?” Jack wanted to know.

  “Well, you said that horde was fifty or so strong, and looking at all the casualties so far, there weren’t many people who turned. That means they had an extremely high number of infected test subjects already,” Smith explained. “Doctor Reed thought there were sixty or seventy people in the Bluefield Facility, but what if this one is way larger than that?”

  “It makes you wonder if we packed enough ammo to clear it,” Tyrone stated.

  “And enough people,” Jack added.

  With no immediate threat from the undead, Jack clambered over the vending machine and set foot in the blood-soaked elevator lobby of the second sub-level. The fluorescent lights flickered ahead of him, leading him to wonder if this was an indication that there were power issues on the lower levels or if it was some kind of localized damage that was causing the problem. He glanced at the second elevator and saw that the display above the doors still indicated it was on the third floor, so he focused ahead. As he took a step forward, his boots crunching some unfortunate soul’s bones in the process, the lights flickered off altogether for several seconds. Jack immediately flicked on the flashlight of his weapon, and then continued his advance. To the right was a security room just as there was above, even down to the layout of the room itself. Jack approached the door and used the keycard from the level above in an attempt to gain access. It made a stubborn beeping sound but there was no indication that the door unlocked.

  “Ty, Smith, check the bodies for a card,” Jack instructed, continuing to peer down the blood-soaked corridor. It terminated not far from the end of the security room in a T-junction. There was something written on the walls, and below there was one arrow pointing left and one right. However, Jack couldn’t read where they were directing people to beneath the blood smeared over them. He was listening carefully, trying to detect even the faintest sound of an undead, but at that point the level was completely silent - as silent as the tomb it seemed to be.

  Jack heard the movements of his team behind him as they searched the shredded clothing for a keycard that would open the security doors. It took a few minutes, but eventually Smith spoke up.

  “I’ve got one,” she announced, moving to Jack to hand it off. He took the card from her and, upon seeing it was coated in blood, and having no alternative, wiped it off on his trousers in case it wouldn’t read in the machine. Jack found it interesting that this one had a wide violet strip across it. With the card cleaned as best as he could, Jack swiped it through the machine and this time it beeped in the affirmative and there was a metallic clunk from the door. He pushed it in, advancing carefully inside while keeping his weapon braced against his shoulder. It was empty and bloodless, though the weapons locker in the corner stood open without a single weapon inside it.

  “Clear,” Jack announced. He turned to look at the terminals and saw the one in the far corner was operational, while the one closest seemed to be switched off. He moved quickly to it, tapping the keys then wiggling the mouse, but it was definitely off.

  “Should we come down yet?” Emma probed over the radio. Jack thought about it quickly. Though they hadn’t secured anywhere beyond the elevator lobby and security room, it didn’t seem as if there was much in the way of nearby hostiles. With that said, if there was a horde and it came as a whole, they’d be trapped just like those who had died in the lobby.

  “Not yet,” Jack returned, deciding they needed to have more information before bringing the whole group back together. “We’ll see if we can get a look at the cameras first to see if it’s clear.”

  Jack went to the working terminal, pocketing the second keycard as he did. He pulled out the chair and sat down, letting his weapon hang as he prepared to access it. In short order, Jack found his way into the operating system, opening up the camera views and taking a peek through them one by one. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to be learned from most of them as they contained a static image with the words ‘no signal’ across the screen. In fact, of the thirty cameras, twenty seven were inoperable.

  “Shit,” Jack commented as he cycled through them.

  “What’s wrong?” Emma wanted to know.

  “The cameras have either been destroyed or there’s some technical problem,” Jack reported as the lights flickered on and off for a few seconds, the computer terminal almost crashing as the power dipped. “And there’s a problem with the power.”

  “So what’s the plan?” Bridges asked.

  “We’re going to have to secure the area manually before we bring you down.”

  “Do you need an extra body down there?” Ridgewell probed. “Bridges would be happy to join you.”

  “No, stay up there and keep an eye out for any infected that might still be wandering around. Other than that, see if you can engage a lockdown on the doors on this floor, and if you can locate the mine entrance that might come in handy later.”

  “Roger that,” Ridgewell returned.

  “No cameras, inconsistent lighting and a sub basement level that looks like a slaughterhouse. It’s like a scene from a horror movie,” Tyrone announced, looking through the window and gripping his rifle tightly.

  “Isn’t that just life now?” Jack asked as he stood up and went to the door, unlocking it with the keycard before bringing his weapon back to a ready position.

  “It could be worse,” Smith announced. “Bridges could be with us.”

  “Hey, I can still hear you,” Bridges returned over the radio.

  Jack opened the door and stepped out, pointed his weapon down the corridor in case some unknown threat appeared in the flickering light. Clear, he started to advance, a quick peek over his shoulder revealing Tyrone was just behind him on the right, while Smith had taken her place on the left. Focusing forward, they pressed on up the corridor to the T-junction, glancing around the corners to ensure they were clear of targets before stepping fully into the space. Looking at the signage now they were closer to it, Jack discovered it was readable.

  “Research labs one and three to the left, two and four to the right,” Jack announced.

  “Where to first?” Tyrone asked.

  “I guess the first one. At least we can get an idea of what they were researching down here,” Jack responded, turning left.

  As he pressed forward, away from the kill box at the elevator lobby, Jack observed that the signs of carnage didn’t get any less. There were the same metallic walls and floors as on the upper level, and these too were spattered with viscera and congealed blood. When they came to a clear patch of wall however, Jack noted there was a violet colored stripe along the lower wall, and then realized the significance of the colored stripes on the keycards.

  “I think the color coding of the keycard indicates their level of access. The ones we got from Jeff and Clive allowed us to use the elevator to travel down here, but we couldn’t use them to open the doors on this level. The one you found,” he nodded at Smith, “authori
zed access to the security station here, but as there’s no other coloring on it, I guess it’s only good for this level.”

  “So someone with a purple one couldn’t get into the dorms?” Smith probed.

  “I’m guessing it’s a one way restriction; blue can’t enter purple, but purple can enter blue,” Jack returned. “It’d be too complicated otherwise.”

  “Great, so now we just need to figure out what color the lowest level is and we can look for a card that’ll get us down there,” Tyrone declared.

  “It’s as simple as that,” Jack responded.

  They were nearing a turn off to the right. There was still a vast length of corridor ahead of them, but as he peeked around the edge of the corner, Jack saw several large floor to ceiling glass walls with a laboratory within. There were white metal tables laden with computers and equipment, as well as glass boxes that seemed to be sealed, accessible via heavy rubber gloves. This was repeated across tables and workbenches, with desks around the edge with more equipment on them. The space was very large, with a couple of glassed off offices within, likely for lead technicians or lab workers who supervised what was apparently ‘Laboratory 1’ according to the frosted parts of the glass walls. It was an impressive setup that was marred by the obvious signs of destruction and slaughter: blood, bones, knocked over equipment and scattered papers soaking up the pools of blood on the floor, and then there was the milling infected. Some wore lab coats, others gowns as though they had been patients in a hospital. There were a couple of security guards too, leading Jack to believe a number of them had been bitten before managing to secure themselves within the laboratory. Sadly, all who entered believed they were safe, until some of their number turned and attacked the other occupants. There were some cracks along the glass walls and a couple of obvious chips, but otherwise the walls had remained strong. Jack looked further down the corridor and saw a pair of glass doors which were slightly recessed from the metal door frames in the glass wall. The right side of the frame also housed a keycard access panel. As he observed this, Jack heard a decidedly creepy noise. It sounded similar to a man trying to speak with a wired jaw; more an expulsion of muffled noises rather than anything specific, but they were much deeper in tone than Jack had heard from a normal human. Accompanying it was a scratching sound, which sounded as though it was being made by something heavy. Jack leaned further out from the corner in an effort to see if he could locate the origin of the noise, but it was out of view - perhaps coming from around the corner of the laboratory.