The Turning

by Thomas Key

  The fire quickly spread to the rest of the house, the heat and smoke beginning to rise into the bedroom. The pounding on the door had once again ceased. That was their cue. They, once again, stood and began walking to the door, moving what little leftover furniture that they had piled against it. Ken put his right eye to one of the bullet holes made by their previous attempts to keep the undead out. All of the remaining infected in the hallway were slowly moving across the hall and down the stairs to the first floor. “The fire is drawing them away,” he informed the others as he watched. The trio began to sweat heavily as the floor under their feet began to heat up with the flames below. The smoke was beginning to become a physical presence, the dark cloud filtering through every crack in the wall and flooring around them. To avoid the obvious issues, they lowered themselves onto their knees to avoid the majority of the deadly air. “We’re clear, let’s go while the getting’s good,” Ken said as he opened the door. Another dense blast of smoke and hair blew into the room. The hallway was littered with dead zombies, their heads and bodies destroyed in one way or another. Some had holes blown out of the back of their skulls, some with heads almost completely intact with the exception of an entry wound. Occasionally, bullets will be slowed enough to enter the skull but not exit, ricocheting around like the inside of a pinball machine. Not wanting to risk an accidental bite, the group placed their knees and feet carefully, staying as low to the ground as possible. As they neared the stairs, the heat from the fire hit them full force, causing a fresh intense sweat to begin to trickle down their foreheads and necks. At the bottom of the steps was the remaining infected that had been in the hall. Ken could tell this by the sheer amount of wood shards that were all over the clothing of the few infected in the rear. “We need to get through these guys and head for the back,” he whispered to the others. They nodded in mutual agreement. He raised his rifle and fired. The zombie in the rear took the first round, the shot missing its mark but hitting it dead center in the spine, pun intended. It fell forward, paralyzed but twitching. The trio unleashed a wave of bullets into the zombies and assorted infected, pushing those in the front that had originally been staring into the gorgeous flames into said fire, creating more toasted and roasted Z’s that were walking around like creepers at sunrise. For those of you gamers like Ken, that makes perfect sense.

  When the path to the back door was finally clear, the small group made their escape, the glass door having previously been shattered during the initial zombie attack. Bloody broken shards littered the ground, adding a crunching sound to their foot falls as they erupted out of the burning home. Once outside in the chilled moisture filled air, they all gulped in large gasps of fresh air, coughing repeatedly as they did so. A half dozen infected were still heading their way from inside the house and in less than a minute, they were dispatched. Inside the home, a wall collapsed, causing the entire structure to lean to the right, and slowly, the once picture-perfect Albuquerque home fell in on itself, burying the remaining attackers inside of it. The place would be a tomb for an assload of undead, and unfortunately, of one child. The fire continued to burn, a spire forming as it licked over the previously pristine rooftop. They watched the house burn and saw the zombies and infected on the other side of the flames staring back at them. They didn’t make any moves to cross the fire to attack. Instead, they stood in a Mexican standoff, the light around them dancing with each flame. Atencio and Ashmore were breathing deeply, laughing amongst themselves, thankful to be alive. Ken though, was perturbed. The special infected, the one that had dodged his shot was nowhere to be found. That fact bothered him to no end. He tried to spot the smelly bastard in the crowd beyond, to no avail. The rain that had taken a smoke break resumed its downpour, causing the fire before them to sizzle. It was time to go. The house was in the foothills of the Sandia Mountains, where the dozen trail heads were only as far as the backyards of most of the homes. “I think up is our best bet,” he said, looking up at the looming mountain. “You want to hike all of the way up there?” Atencio asked. “When was the last time that we went for a nice nature walk?” Ashmore threw in, looking at Atencio. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, trying to stomp out the plan. “I disagree. If we can reach the peak, there are a crap ton of antennas and we can probably use one of them to contact the base. If not, there are probably cars that we can use,” he said, pointing upwards. It was, of course, too dark to see anything at all, so he slowly put his finger back down. “So we’re going to climb however many miles to the top, use the towers to call for help and then sit tight?” Atencio asked, as she stood directly in Ken’s face, meeting his eyes. At 4’9, she was feisty as ever, and he had to look down at her to meet her gaze. “Yep, that sounds about right. Or find a car,” he said in response. “What about the fuel being bad? Or the battery?” she asked. He shrugged. “If we could get a car into neutral, we could roll it down the other side of the mountain far faster than we could walk.” She stared at him, and he stared at her. “Okay, fine,” she said, turning her gaze from his and beginning to walk to the gate in the yard. Beyond lay a pitch-dark mountain, with their only destination being the top of the behemoth in front of them. “Let’s get this done,” Atencio said as she took the lead, and up they went, the previously raging fire behind them beginning to slow its rage and calm as ash and embers formed at the feet of the zombies watching their prey walk away.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Good morning General, members of the board, and Praetor,” Sydney said as she stood in front of a dozen men and women in a luxurious conference room. The marbled table, leather chairs and spacious interior added to the feeling of poshness. Even the lighting in the room had been meticulously chosen to show each seat in only the most flattering light possible. She was standing at the farthest side from the Praetor, with everyone else filling in seats on other sides between them. She was forced to stand, as she was not recognized as being a member of the council and not deserving of a chair at the head of power. Yet. “Good morning,” many of the group relayed back, either with muttered responses or simple nods. The Praetor, of course, did not make a move nor acknowledge her with anything other than with his eyes. He’s such a dick, she thought as she continued. “We initiated phase 2 of our testing using one of our subjects; a man recovered from a bite just outside of Albuquerque not long ago. As with the others, he appeared to be immune to the infection.” She held out a small remote that lowered a projector from the ceiling above, to which everyone in the room turned to look at the display. “Subject 5 was physically fit, had no allergies or other medical issues, and was completely healthy. Other than the bite he had received, of course.” Several slides showed him standing or sitting on the hospital bed, even one slide was taken in the hall during his perceived getaway. “You can see here,” she paused, clicking to the next slide, “He was strong enough to take down several guards. This made him our prime candidate for expedited testing.” The next photo was of the stairwell incident. “Once he was taken back to his room and restrained, we began testing in earnest,” she said, clicking it again. On the screen was an assortment of charts and diagrams with medical information that a large majority of those in the room did not understand. She quickly dove into the data, showing everything from his weight and height to his blood sugar and heart rate. “As you all know from our previous briefings, I have been working on a concentrated dose of Serum 128…” “Excuse me dear,” an older woman spoke up, interrupting her mid-sentence. “We already know the serum works. The whole world is infected. Why are you still bothering with making it more concentrated?” she asked. “Yes Senator, the original virus worked like anticipated,” Sydney said, taking a quick breath. “However, for the sake of our medical plans, we wanted to concentrate it to see if the patient is actually completely immune, or just simply resistant.” The Senator nodded for her to continue. “What we found was something very interesting,” she said as she clicked the remote again. On the screen, subject 5 was hooked up to a machine w
ith a large batch of the black liquid feeding into his arm intravenously. His eyes were cloudy, his expression lifeless. “When we injected the subject with the original syringe, the effects wore off.” The Praetor grunted. “Do you mean to tell me that he became uninfected?” he asked. “Yes sir. The infection spread through his body, and it changed everything from his eye color to his metabolism and his blood. After about 6 hours, the infection receded to the point where medically, he was fine.” Gasps from around the table, and even a ‘oh my god’ came to Sydney's ears. Inwardly, she smiled. This is it, her time to shine. The General spoke up. “Are you saying his body is not only immune but he can cure the infection itself?” “Yes sir. I’m saying that if we keep him going, we could even have the basis for a cure. We would be able to produce it and control distribution of it.” She smiled, and on the other side of the table, the Praetor smiled back. “This is just the beginning.”

  Deeper inside the facility, Shepard lay, heavily restrained. The near constant pumping of serum into his veins kept his body in an unknown state. It sat somewhere between life and death. His mind though heavily drugged was constantly battling the infection raging on. A battle of wills of the zombie virus against his human spirit. The question was, could he conquer the foe invading his body or would it overpower him for full control? Only time would tell.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Rachel, Isabel and Jaylin had spent the previous twelve hours delving into personnel manifests, files and other reports in their plans for the raid. Included in their group were several battle-hardened soldiers, a pilot, an engineer, a medic and a sailor for a total of ten. Overseeing the group was a Sergeant Elmsley. Elmsley was one of those that made it up the ranks by sheer tenacity. She didn’t take any shit and always spoke bluntly, much to the consternation of some of her previous superiors. The group had made several lists and had come to conclusions on the entire mission personnel list, with her being the judge and jury for a majority of the choices. With a raiding party of two dozen, they would be split into small squads once the assault began, with the goal of infiltrating and capturing or destroying the rogue group in the desert. Rachel would be placed in the group on point, along with the two air guard members that she had met earlier, Cassandra and Natalie, Elmsley and the sailor Jewel. The sailor’s job was to observe the raid and act as a radioman for the group. If they could not gain entry or things got too hairy, his radio calls to the USS Mobile Bay would result in the complete destruction of the facility from an assortment of cruise missiles. That, however, would not be preferable due to the amount of supplies, personnel and Intel that they could gain from a total takeover. Cassandra and Natalie’s expertise from their time in Red Horse (Rapid Engineer Deployable Heavy Operational Repair Squadron Engineers were invaluable. The military loves their acronyms), gave them the special knowledge of demolition required from breaking through any doors that they could not bypass otherwise. Behind them would be the rest of the team, who would then spread out to take any other objectives as they arose. The best guess of the brass was that the facility was formerly a missile silo that was closed down and purchased privately. Thought to be abandoned after the sale, the basic layout of the silo system was fairly well known, however, the exact setup of the interior was up for debate. Much to the chagrin of the group, once inside, they would have to decide their next steps as they went. The military brass absolutely hated that idea but there were no alternatives. It was a vital objective and the assorted team members were going to take it, one way or another. The mission would commence two days later, and the raiding crew would be more than ready, or so they hoped.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  An hour after their initial start of their nature hike, Kenneth, Ashmore and Atencio made it up the well-used trail with the hope of making it to the top in three pieces. After their vacating the burning house of horrors, they had kept up their guard, with one of the group constantly looking behind them to see if any of the infected were following. None ever showed. As the hours of walking up hill took its toll, there was need to stop more and more often. “Can we stop?” Atencio said, frustrated. “Again?” Ashmore asked, nearly throwing her hands up in the signature ‘I give up’ way. “Yes, my feet hurt,” she said, finding a rock nearly as tall as she was, and clambering up to the top. The petite woman proceeded to take off both of her boots and rub her feet. At her size, she looked like a child on a hike that her parents just had to take her with them. If it weren't for the camouflage pants and top, it would almost be a complete picture. “Fine, move over,” Ashmore said with a sigh. She too climbed the boulder and sat beside her friend. Or more than friend, or whatever. Kenneth, grumbling to himself, sat on the ground at the base of the large rock. “Damned women taking the good spots,” he whispered to himself as his ass hit the dirt. “What the hell did you just say?” Atencio nearly yelled. “Nothing shush!” he yelled back. Her evil eye finally left him as Ashmore caught her attention once again and they began to talk amongst themselves. Ken, with nothing to stimulate him, nodded off with his head resting against the rough rock. It was not the most comfortable pillow that he had ever had, of that there was no doubt, but in a pinch, it worked. His heavy eyelids closed and opened wide a half of a dozen times before they finally rested in the closed position.

  It could have been only moments or even hours later that he was startled awake. His eyes opened wide and he dared not move a muscle. The two women were still talking above him, whispering and probably telling some crazy ass secrets about someone they hated or something. The hair on his neck began to stand straight up, and he felt that something just wasn't right. In the military, they describe the feeling of someone directly looking at you. They say that there is energy in it and when someone is looking right at you, your body, mind or soul somehow can feel that energy and it causes you to look at the person looking at you. Have you ever been at a restaurant, and seen someone that you think you recognize, so you stare at them, trying to confirm it? Then all of a sudden, they stop talking and look right back at you as if they somehow knew you were staring at them? That’s what Kenneth was feeling right then, as if someone was staring intently at him, and as his eyes slowly scanned the area, they came to a rest on a patch of bushes up the trail and to their right. The sensation that he was feeling seemed to be coming from that direction. Slowly, his hand moved to his rifle that was laying by his right side. He kept his movements as slow as possible, with his eyes no longer looking at the bushes, to avoid putting energy back to the watcher. They teach that the best way to get around guards, and to sneak through parameters is to avoid looking directly at the guard, and using your peripheral vision instead. Many good soldiers died by not following the rule of thumb while trying to infiltrate an enemy encampment. As soon as his hand grasped the rifle, he lifted it and fired into the bushes, sending a three-round burst into it. The noise startled the women above him, causing Atencio to drop the shoe that she was still holding straight onto Ken’s head, the steel toe boot causing him to wince with pain. He stood up, holding his rifle against his shoulder and keeping it trained on the now shredded plant life. A moment crept by, possibly two before a corpse fell to the ground from inside of the bush. Even from that distance, they could tell that something was strange. The corpse was pale, with unusually long nails on its outstretched hands. The ears too were larger than normal, with scratches all over its body, possibly from contact with the trees and cactus in the area. Atencio put her boot back on as quickly as she could. As she finished the last lace, the trees all around them came alive. “Incoming!” Ashmore yelled as she fired into the trees to her right, Ken shooting directly ahead. Atencio pivoted, bringing her rifle up as two pale people came around the boulder, heading straight for the group. She fired on semi-auto, nailing the first one in the head, and the second in the chest. It fell away, clutching its chest as it did so. The group quickly huddled up and were soon back to back, taking shots as heads or figures popped out of the surrounding area. “Red!” Atencio shouted, Ashmo
re turning slightly for a wider angle of fire. The term ‘Red’ was in regards to her being out of ammo and needing to reload. Her fingers fumbled as she found the magazine release, placing the empty mag in her left pocket and pulling a full one out of her right breast pocket, feeling it slide into place in her rifle. Pulling the charging handle, she shouted “Green!” taking up her position once again in the firing line. Like a well-oiled machine, two dozen or so of the things were put down before the last round was fired just a minute or so later. The complete quiet in the night was deafening. With the smoking barrels of their weapons still hot to the touch, they moved forward as one, with Ken leading the pack. He came to one of the dead things on the trail and put his foot to it, confirming that it was, in fact, dead. “What the actual fuck?” he asked out loud as he bent down. The eyes of the man, for lack of a better word were weird. Weird, you ask? The eyes did not have the round pupil of a person, or the dead grey appearance of a zombie, but the eyes that you’d expect to see from a feline. It was something of the animal kingdom, not normal at all for humans. Ashmore pushed past, looking into the eyes with her pen light, and slowly tracing over the features of the thing. “Fascinating,” she whispered. “It tried to kill us and you say it's fascinating?” Atencio asked her peevishly. Ashmore stood back up and looked her dead in her eyes. “Yes. I think this is a mutation,” she said, staring at her whatever she was. Saying girlfriend would, while accurate, be weird without official confirmation, and Kenneth knew that men do not willingly step into a midfield like that without taking some serious damage. “So what are you saying?” Atencio spat back. “I’m saying that these things are obviously faster and stealthier than what we’re used to, and they’re seeing physical changes that would normally take thousands of years. The pale skin leads me to believe that they aren’t usually in the sunlight, and may be nocturnal hunters. Their long nails point to that as well, no pun intended,” she said. “The eyes also lead me to believe that they either have night vision or close to it,” she concluded. Atencio audibly gulped. Ken signed. “Well, grab my ears,” he said quietly. “Hunters,” Ashmore said. “What did you say?” Ken asked, turning to look at her. “They’re hunters. Infected with special abilities like these aren’t something we should ignore,” she said. “I think the name hunters fits just fine.” A howl from what sounded like a dog or coyote in the distance behind them was cut off with a whimper. “I think it’s time to go,” Atencio said, pushing past the other two and speed-walking along the path up to the mountain’s peak. “I second that,” Ashmore said, following right on her heels. “I’ve got the rear, I guess,” Kenneth said, following just two heartbeats after the duo.