“Are you the one who turned on the siren?” Cadence asked. “Move aside, creep.”
A hard push sent the zombie stumbling against a file cabinet. With one eye on the creature, she leaned over the desk, and hit several red buttons. The siren died and the warning lights clicked off.
“That’s better. Now for you.”
The zombie clerk made a lunge for her. Cadence reacted, slashing from navel to stern. As his organs slid to the floor, the clerk’s legs collapsed beneath him, and she finished him off at the neck. The head rolled between her boots. Taking a seat, Cadence stared at the rotting head, mouth and eyes still moving.
It should feel normal for a zombie to attack, but she had grown used to them ignoring her. None of the dead that came through the blast door had considered her a meal, but this one was different. No, that wasn’t right, she thought, recalling the zombie in the tunnel. Something was wrong about the NORAD zombies.
The door to the office opened with a bang.
“I thought you might need some help,” Smack said. She was covered with black splatter and her skirt had been ripped. Several M16s hung over her shoulder. “I know you told me to stay with Blaze, but when I saw an opening, I took off after you. I’m sorry.”
Cadence was fond of Smack. The girl started out as the Fighting Tiger’s mascot, but over time had become like a little sister. “Thor and Freeborn are up on the second level,” Cadence said. “This guy was pretty aggressive. Maybe it’s because I spoke to him.”
“Or maybe it’s because he’s a zombie and that’s what they do,” Smack said, scrutinizing the body. “Think there’s a radioactive leak? Imagine…radioactive zombies.”
“Let’s hope you’re wrong. Were you bitten?”
“No, but a few looked me straight in the eye right before I shot them, so I guess they saw it coming.” She spat her gum onto the ground and produced a piece. “You need a new weapon? I picked up a few nice ones.”
Smack handed a rifle to Cadence, who checked to make sure it was loaded and turned toward the panel in front of her. Surveillance cameras were set up all over NORAD, and there were a dozen blank monitors. She flipped on several screens and fuzzy lines appeared. Loud footsteps drew Cadence and Smack’s attention. Both faced the door as Picasso and Lachlan entered the office. Lachlan’s Irish broadsword was covered from hilt to tip with dark stains, Picasso was splattered with brains and gore, but neither vampire appeared to be injured.
“You guys are as a loud as a rhinoceros,” Smack said, an impish smile on her face. “Since when do vampires make so much noise?”
A look of concern appeared on Picasso’s face. “Since you became a precocious thirteen- year-old, requiring constant supervision,” Picasso said. “Whisper has the situation under control in the tunnel, so we came on ahead. I know the layout of NORAD. I spent a summer here on active duty. The emergency generators are still working, but I want to try and bring the main system on line. You two stay here and wait for the team. Lachlan and I will check it out.”
“Where are Freeborn and Thor?” Lachlan’s Irish accent was thick and charming. He took out his radio and patched through to Freeborn, talking in a muffled voice. “Level 2. Got it.” He gazed at Cadence with those hazel eyes. “They’ve run into another large group and need help. I’m on it. I’ll catch up with you later, Picasso.”
“There’s a map of the bunker on every level.” Picasso placed a fresh magazine into his rifle. “The maintenance room will be on the lower-level with four underground reservoirs. I want to know the drinking water isn’t contaminated. It’s marked with a large number one on the door, so you can’t miss it, Irishman.” He gave a tug on Smack’s pigtail. “Stay out of trouble.”
Both vampires took off running. Cadence turned back to the console, fiddling with buttons, trying to bring the cameras back on line. Smack chomped on her gum, hanging out at the door and keeping an eye on the hallway.
“I thought you were the only one of us who didn’t have super abilities,” Smack said. “But that’s not the case anymore, Commander. I climbed over a mountain of bodies that you killed. Want to know how many I think you killed?”
“Too many,” Cadence said in a dismissive tone. “And yet, not enough.”
“Lachlan likes you. I know you like him too or you wouldn’t turn red whenever he’s around. He’s, like, years older than you, and a vampire, but I guess he’s still dateable. I mean, it’s not like you’re with Highbrow anymore. You can get cozy with anyone you want. If I was your age, I’d like Lachlan. But I guess I’m stuck with Dodger.”
Grinning, Cadence patted her knee and Smack plopped down. The girl laid her head against Cadence’s shoulder. Smack’s thirteenth birthday had been November 30th, the same day Cadence turned eighteen. They didn’t celebrate with a cake, though it would have been nice, and she felt Smack deserved something special. Not many kids reached thirteen.
Cadence glanced back at the screen. Three were working and showed Lachlan, Thor, and Freeborn fighting zombies in a large theater. She sat up straight and leaned forward, pushing Smack off her knee.
“Keep your eye on the door, kiddo. I want to get the other cameras running. When Whisper arrives, send him to the second level. Thor may need more help.”
“Will do,” Smack said, tired.
They were both startled by a loud moan. A zombie came through the door, walking toward them. Decay and rot had not set in. The zombie might have passed for a human if it weren’t for the deep bite mark in his neck. It was obvious he had been one of the last bitten. Smack gasped, causing the zombie to notice her.
“Poor guy,” Smack lamented. “He’s so young, Cadence. And fresh. I bet he was the last to hold out. It must have been horrible for him.”
The zombie let out a deep, heartfelt groan and reached for Smack. She lifted her hand, meaning to knock him away, but the zombie caught hold of her fingers. A strange expression appeared on the zombie’s face that could have been mistaken as human.
“Do you think he understands me?” Smack said. “Do you, Mr. Zombie? I’m sorry you were bitten. You didn’t deserve it, nor did all of your friends.”
The zombie moaned, responding to Smack’s voice. Smack’s eyes widened. For a moment, it was as if she could understand what he was trying to communicate.
“We could give him my blood,” Cadence said, “and try to cure him. His bite mark isn’t that severe. I mean, he’s lost a lot of blood, but he was probably bitten a few days ago. My blood worked on Freeborn. Why not this guy? He seems friendly enough.”
Smack pulled her hand free. The zombie let out a moan. “We can’t. What if he ate someone? You can’t cure someone who has eaten a human. He’d feel so guilty, and he would never be normal. Make it quick, Cadence. I don’t want him to suffer any more.”
The zombie let out an angry groan and reached for Smack’s pigtail. She pushed him away, screaming and striking back with her fists. The zombie became frenzied and tried to bite her. Cadence lifted her sword and hacked off his head. It plunked onto the floor and rolled toward her. Flipping the goo off her sword, Cadence looked at Smack and saw tears running down the girl’s freckled cheeks.
“I understood him,” the girl, with a heavy sob. “He said his name was Jim. Did you hear him, too? I couldn’t make out his last name. Something like, Holmes. I’m so sorry I asked you to kill him.”
“I didn’t hear any words,” Cadence said. “But he did react to you. Your radioactive theory is starting to grow on me. I’ll have Picasso check out the levels and make sure it’s safe to be here. They do have nuclear missiles here.”
Smack wiped the tears from her face. “If Dodger was here, I wouldn’t be scared. I miss him, Cadence. I miss my family. I want to go home.”
“It’s going to be okay, kiddo,” Cadence said. “You have a new family now. It’s our job to take care of them, so buck up. We’ve done okay so far.”
Sniffing back tears, Smack blew a large pink bubble, sucking it back in before it popped, and chewed with a veng
eance. Cadence just smiled. She didn’t know what normal meant anymore, but watching Smack blow bubbles was a nice way to try and remember.
* * * * *
Chapter Two
Logan had been under guard at the Citadel for six weeks.
Daily he visited the main lab, staying until twilight to watch Dr. Leopold and his medical staff at work. Several chromatography machines were in use, passing samples through porous material inside tubes, separating liquid into molecular components. There were machines he was unfamiliar with, some antiques and some state of the art. A table held all manner of medieval- looking devices on a metal tray, next to where cell-counters provided test results at ten-minute intervals.
“Learn anything new, Agent Logan?” asked Dr. Leopold, looking up from a microscope.
A male assistant stood next to the doctor. The staff wore lab coats, Latex green gloves, and disposable slip covers over their shoes. Only men worked in the lab, all hailing from Andorra, a country pinched between France and Spain. They looked similar; tall and thin with waxen, yellow skin stretched tight across their bald heads and faces. If Logan didn’t know better, he would have thought they were clones.
“When you were a kid, Doc, did you play with a chemistry set?” Logan asked, picking lint balls off his thick green sweater. “Don’t tell me. You never married.”
Leopold’s thin smile revealed a row of small, sharp teeth. “No, I never did. As I was saying, in the initial mutation of the H1N1z virus, the proteins the host produces, as well as other compounds necessary for cell health, are not produced correctly or in enough of a supply to develop healthy cells. So the host, while not dying, does weaken, with the fat cells being particularly affected. The host can't store energy like normal, and so is driven to find food more often. The neural pathways, which need fats for insulation, degrade, which is why we have zombies. The degradation prevents cells from properly manufacturing and the infected will gradually die without a constant food source.”
“Does that mean you have found a cure?” Logan asked, sitting nearby. Fluorescent lights flickered; the lab had been a former classroom, and while it was kept clean, maintenance wasn’t a high priority. “I thought you were working on a way to create an immortal female vampire, so the Kaiser won’t be alone. I guess he’s taken at least five hundred brides so far. It can’t be that bad. When one dies, you just marry another.”
“The Kaiser’s love life does not interest me, but I am interested in these Chameleons. Cadence’s blood has adapted to the virus. From the blood samples you provided, I’ve learned there is no degradation of cells, but precisely the opposite effect. If her blood wasn’t toxic to vampires, in theory, I could introduce it into a vampire and create immortals. I believe if Cadence was here, then I would be able to create immortal vampires.”
Logan laughed. “Well, I brought all I could get my hands on. I don’t think I can steal anymore for you, Doc. Neither Captain Pallaton nor the Shadowguard have been able to locate Cadence or the Earth Corps. Highbrow threw them out of the survivor camp because they are infected. Ironic, considering you want them here for the same reason. If I was assigned to finding them, I wouldn’t be combing the streets of Colorado Springs or going from house to house. She’s in the mountains, hiding, and I guarantee she’s watching the Citadel.”
“Five hundred wives is excessive,” Leopold said, as he placed a new slide under the microscope. His assistant gave Logan an incredulous look, picked up a tray of vials, and walked to another table to start labeling.
“What I’m looking at today is lycanthrope blood,” the doctor continued. “Those infected with the lupine virus physically change into wolf-form, but still retain their human nature. It’s my understanding that you’ve been to Germany. I’m sure you encountered a few Old Ones there. They’re an exception. The virus they are infected with is much older and the host is completely at its whim. The moonlight triggers their change and wipes out any memory of their former selves. I’d like to compare the blood types of these two similar but different animals.”
“I’m sure you would,” Logan said.
“Human cells can be infected with multiple viruses at the same time, which is what makes humans so interesting to study.” Leopold pointed a boney finger at a dead frog, spread out to expose its guts, held open by a dozen slender pins. “A tree frog carries a dangerous slime that when absorbed into the pores of a human can cause a chemical reaction and mutate on a genetic level. If a human is infected with the original H1N1z pathogen, without receiving an antidote, they die and rise again within a few hours. If infected with yet another strain of the virus, they turn into a vampire or a werewolf. However, give a healthy human or a recently-turned zombie a single drop of chameleon blood, and they can be cured or even transformed into super humans, although I can’t be sure of that yet. This extreme evolution of Homo sapiens has happened before, but it is different each time. While we are able to identify the DNA genome of each separate virus, at this time we are not able to identify the acting agent in Cadence’s blood…for reasons I do not care to share at this moment.”
Logan glanced at the frog. “Thank God, I thought you were going to keep talking. Just tell me what the Kaiser wants to hear, and I’ll leave. I don’t enjoy the time we spend together, Doc.”
An ear-splitting scream cut Logan off. He spun around when the lab technicians started laughing. Other prisoners watched in horror or looked away, retreating to the back of their cells. Screams erupted once more, clearly a female in great pain. Logan walked over and found Leopold’s medical staff hovering around an older captive. They poked her with sharp instruments tied onto the end of wooden poles, cutting her flesh.
Logan considered knocking them aside and helping the prisoner. He was pushed out of the way as a stretcher was wheeled in. A mangled werewolf was placed onto a metal table, dead. He assumed it was Huritt, a former member of the local wolf tribe and Chief Chayton’s cousin. The lab technicians swarmed the table and commenced with an autopsy. One of the werewolf’s front legs had turned back into a human arm and hand. Logan looked away when a lab technician rolled in a table containing a tray of medical instruments.
“You don’t approve?” Leopold asked. “Huritt was slain in the arena last night. As for the prisoner, she doesn’t deserve your concern, Agent Logan. What you don’t understand is that I have discovered the true essence of God. God is science. God is the creation and destruction of particles, atoms, cells, and microbes. God is life and death in its literal translation, not a divine being sitting above, judging who lives and who dies. God is a virus. This virus. And I’m going to discover how to harness this divine power and use it for my own purpose. Tell that to the Kaiser.”
The doctor returned to his microscope and Logan looked away, trying not to react when another scream from the victim led to heavy silence. Logan had made a huge mistake by betraying Cadence’s camp and betraying Rose. She was the one person he truly cared for, and he sabotaged any chance of their happiness together. The Kaiser promised Logan a jet and a pilot, enabling Logan to travel wherever he wanted to, but so far the promise was empty. After spending just days in the lab, Logan realized he valued friends more than anything, especially Rose Standish. Now he was alone in a world full of bloodsuckers.
“This virus you worship is a time bomb,” Logan said. “You want to be God? Find a cure before the human race is destroyed. Cadence was infected with the virus and then immediately cured. There’s a greenhouse right here. You have the means to create another Cadence.”
Leopold offered a thin smile. “Cadence may well have risen from the grave, at least ten times if you believe gossip, but I can’t be sure of her regenerative powers until she’s here. As for your flower theory, it’s ridiculous. If you want flowers, go see Dr. Heston. He’s working on that problem.”
“Rose said it’s the flower,” insisted Logan.
“Is that what Rose Standish thinks?” Leopold laughed at the surprised look on Logan’s face. “Of course everyon
e knows about your secret relationship with the fair doctor. Tell me, Agent Logan, did you come to the Citadel to help the Kaiser or to spy?”
“Both, if you want to know the truth.”
“I knew Rose before the Scourge,” Leopold said. “She was my student. Even in those days, Rose spent her time in a futile effort; she wanted to cure cancer. Noble, beautiful, and naïve. Always asking questions, challenging my authority. In short, she was a nuisance. What I want to know about regeneration and immortality, I can learn right here, in my own lab.”
Logan looked at the autopsy table. The werewolf was sliced down the middle and spread out like the frog. “Butchering shape-shifters and torturing humans is sure to produce results. At the rate you’re going, only zombies and vampires will be left. Rose understands that the key to survival is finding a cure.”
“Stop pretending you care,” Dr. Leopold said, jotting a few notes on a clipboard. “For the record, D’Aquilla has manufactured synthetic blood and will send a large shipment by Christmas. Vampires don’t need humans to feed. It is clear you don’t know everything, Agent Logan.”
Logan crossed his arms. “Yeah? What am I missing here, Doc?”
“Cadence represents a higher biological order. Her chameleon blood is aptly named, for no human infected with her blood has the same super powers. Every night Dragon fights against all manner of opponents, and he always wins. We have a number of Cadence’s friends imprisoned here, however, only Master Dragon regenerates at a cellular level that exceeds the healing abilities of vampires and therianthropes. Ironic that he is the one person Kaiser won’t let me experiment on. If you want to be of assistance, convince the Kaiser to let me have Dragon, and I’ll soon have all the answers he’s looking for. Or, bring me Cadence.”
Logan looked up at the clock, realizing he had another fifteen minutes before he was allowed out where guards waited. “What happened to the Dark Angels captured at the Cliff Dwellings?” Logan asked. “I haven’t seen any Dark Angels fight in the arena.”
Vengeful Hearts (Dead Hearts Book 3) Page 2