Apocalyptic Beginnings Box Set

by M. D. Massey

  It is pure madness in here now—blood bath would be putting it nicely. Stepping over bodies of both the dead, I nearly lose my balance multiple times.

  My Glock clicks empty once more as I take down two more TGP soldiers rounding opposite corners ahead of me. I holster it behind me and swing around the machine gun I lifted from the dead soldier earlier, continuously squeezing the trigger and taking out a mixture of soldiers and dead.

  I hear their moans and cries for fresh meat behind me. I peer back over my shoulder and spot three fast-moving infecteds galloping towards me like a small group of fucking race dogs. I didn’t know they could do that.

  I run, bobbing and weaving among the steel pods, hoping the dead trailing me find a better meal and break off. But no dice. My ass must look super tasty from behind, as the drool oozing out of their mouths is constant and not very uplifting. I also notice a slew of dead soldiers that will probably be turning sometime in the near future, which will add to the already abundant dead meat roaming around in hell.

  16

  I take a couple more side steps and avoid being shot to shit when I notice my way out. Up ahead and through a bright gauntlet, which steals my night vision. There’s a man with wiry black hair and dressed in a dingy white lab coat franticly hitting the lone button on the wall. He doesn’t look like all that much and appears as though he couldn’t fend off his own shadow, much less a horde of flesh-eaters. Makes me wonder how in the world he has survived this long.

  I keep pace and sprint forward, the three followers blasting me with their eyes. That elevator door needs to hurry the hell up.

  The man looks back over his shoulder and spots me making a beeline right towards him, the now frantic look escalating to an expression of shitting his pants. The elevator dings and the door springs open, the white lab coat rushing inside and smacking the button repeatedly as he looks me dead in the eyes.

  You better hold that elevator or you’ll find being eaten alive is the lesser of two evils, pal!

  Then again, he’s just trying to survive. Don’t trust anyone, like I was. Like I still am. If I make it inside the elevator, his chances of me killing him now are pretty good. Just saying.

  The dread ding of the elevator rings in my ears and the doors start to close as I make a mad dash for my only way out. Man, it’s going to be close, but I think I can make it. Good thing I haven’t eaten anything in a while.

  I keep going all out, the white lab coat screaming at me and moving off the side. The doors are nearly shut as I barely slip through and hit the interior wall hard. The shrills and lip smacking of the dead trio trailing me fades off as they run into the door full throttle, shaking the inside cab.

  “Please don’t kill me. Christ, don’t kill me,” the man screams and sobs as he wedges himself into the corner of the elevator, tears flowing down his red cheeks and through in his sparse black beard.

  “Shut up, I’m not going to kill you. At least not if you stop that damn whining,” I say, picking myself up off the elevator floor.

  I work the pack off my back and toss it to the side. I hit the red emergency button on the elevator control panel, instantly stopping the carriage.

  “Wha . . . what are you going to do to me?” the man stutters.

  Lord, I might kill him ’cause he’s getting on my nerves.

  I pull my Glock out from behind me and sit down opposite whiny ass, resting my back against the solid wall of the elevator. My head tilts back as I take a deep breath, the gun hanging loosely in my right hand. Just from his timid body language and the fact his eyes are watching the gun like a hawk, he wants no part of it. That’s good, as it’s not loaded. Guess I’m selling it well enough then.

  “So, what’s your name?”

  “Wal . . . ter Jenkins.”

  “Well Walter Jenkins, I’m Mike.”

  No way!

  That name, Walter Jenkins, triggers a memory almost on cue after he blubbers it out. It’s hazy and sorta out of focus, but I can see a name badge with the engraving W Jenkins. Is this divine intervention or am I just that lucky? Either way, I’ll take it. I can’t tell if my epiphany has alerted him, but I need to see what I can get out of him.

  “You’re not going to eat me, are you?” Walter asks, peering at my face with a look of fear.

  “No Walter, I’m not going to eat you, but I am going to ask you some questions. And depending on how, let’s say truthful, you answer them, I may feel a little . . . snackish. We clear?”

  Walter nods his head, his eyes staying ever vigilant on my every move. Not that it would matter much. At any point and time, if I feel so inclined, I could kill him without much pause or struggle. Plus, he doesn’t look like the fighting type.

  “Good, now stop your damn crying and be quiet. It’s wearing on my nerves.”

  Walter stops, his arms folded across his chest and his teeth going to town on his nasty looking fingernails. No telling what’s caked under those things.

  “Tell me, Walter, what exactly is going on here? From the looks of this structure, and the dead walking around, it doesn’t appear to be your run of the mill warehouse or laboratory. Then again, I’m just assuming.”

  “I can’t really say because I don’t much know either,” Walter replies, his eyes staring away from my black irises. “Myself and a handful of others are just a small piece to a much larger puzzle. They direct us on what our job is and that is all. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  “Who is ‘they’ exactly?”

  “Some pharmaceutical company I was contracted through. I never really met anyone face to face. I was contacted over the phone and offered the job. I was told they had been watching me for some time and that they had a top secret project they wanted me on.”

  “Didn’t you find that just a little odd?”

  “I did until they told me what it paid. I’ve got an ex-wife that is bleeding me dry, and loans that are nearly drowning me. I’m on the verge of losing everything. At the time, I really didn’t care.”

  “So you have no clue as to why those things out there are roaming around and why I look like ground shit!”

  “I’ve already said I don’t know what’s going on,” Walter replies, digging deep to find his balls. “I’ve almost gotten bit I don’t know how many times and have seen stuff that will scare the hell out of me for the rest of life.”

  You may be convincing yourself that you don’t know anything, but I think you know a lot more than what you’re letting on, Walter.

  I get off the ground in a huff, my “loaded” Glock gripped tightly in my hand as I lick my dried and crusty lips. Added effect. Instantly, that pair of nuts Walter discovered sucks back up into his mangina, his body tensing for a beating.

  “You don’t know shit about nightmares, pal. LOOK AT ME!” Walter tilts his shaking head towards me, his fearful eyes trying not to look at me, but he does. “Do I look like I can take a stroll in the park without people freaking out? No, I can’t, Walter! All because of something that happened here. Because of something YOU helped with.”

  And there it is again. That expression on Walter’s face that shows that he has been found out. Found out by someone who he thought he would never see again. Well, maybe not alive anyways.

  “Last time I’m going to ask you . . .” I say, placing the Glock flush in the middle of Walter’s forehead, the barrel nesting against his sweaty, slimy skin. “Tell me EVERYTHING you know right now or I’ll relieve you of your current nightmares!”

  “All right fine, just put the damn gun down!” Walter yells, his hands in the air.

  Smart man.

  I pull the Glock away slowly and slip it behind me. I take a couple of steps back to give him some breathing room and lean against the interior wall. “Go on.”

  “I hate guns. They always set me on edge.”

  I couldn’t tell.

  “Walter, focus,” I say bluntly.

  “Yeah, so okay. So, I’ve seen you once before. The group I was with was injecting the
stabilizer into test subjects before they were moved onto the next phase of testing. The stabilizer was to control the substance and keep it from getting out of hand. The last phase, from what I’ve heard, is the activation of the substance. A catalyst is administered to the subject and then they are set free if they don’t spaz out and turn immediately.”

  “What is the substance?”

  “I don’t know what it is. I wasn’t part of that group and it wasn’t something they shared with me. All I know is what I was working with. That is all. I swear,” Walter says in what I can tell is a genuine tone.

  He could be lying or not telling me the entire story, but I don’t have time for twenty questions. I’ve got a lot more than what I had ten minutes ago.

  “Are you going to kill me now?”

  “No, I’m not killing you. Although, you’re a piece of shit and will probably die down here, but that is just a hunch.”

  I walk to the elevator control panel, switch off the emergency override, and hit the down arrow. The carriage comes back to life and begins its journey downward.

  “Wha . . . what are you doing?” Walter asks with a shaky tone. “We can’t go down there. There are too many infected all over the damn place. We need to go up and get the hell out of here. You might have a death wish, but I barely made it out of there in one piece and I’m not going back!”

  Way to show a backbone. You’ll need to keep it attached to make it the rest of the way.

  Walter turns and goes for the emergency stop button, but I’m already two steps ahead of him. Christ, I wasn’t born yesterday. I snatch Walter’s scruffy white lab coat collar and flip him around, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him hard against the elevator door. I lift him off his feet, my face stone cold and my black eyes peering deep into his soul. The terror that instantly fills his eyes does little to ease my taut grip, my fingers clenched over his windpipe.

  “I’m going down, not up. You’re coming with me. Whether you’re alive or dead is up to you. Got me?”

  Walter nods his head in an obedient manner. My hand opens and drops him to his feet. He’s bent over, coughing, hacking with his hands on his knees. I scoop up my gear and pull a clip from the side pocket. I remove the Glock from behind me and eject the empty mag.

  Walter’s face hurtles toward the floor. “The damn thing wasn’t even loaded?”

  “Nope.”

  I reload and slip the pack on as the elevator dings to ground zero, filling the quiet cabin. Walter stands erect and reaches for his throat, my fingers etched into his sweaty skin.

  The door opens partially, showing a black void with brief sparks of light igniting off in the distance. I don’t hear anything stirring, but that really doesn’t mean much.

  “I wouldn’t stand that close.”

  Walter looks at me with a peculiar stare, eyes creased and mouth ajar like he’s regressed into one of those things. I gingerly point to the opening as Walter follows my invisible line reference to the black space beside him. He peers back at me and takes a step forward, a look of pure shock and horror instantly filling his face as something grabs his leg and trips him.

  “Help me!” Walter screams as he is yanked back through the opening, his feeble arms catching both sides of the elevator doors.

  I grab his wrist, pulling and tugging as he continues to yell at me. Whatever has him is strong as hell and pulls Walter free of my grasp, his body vanishing into the black hall. A final scream of pain seals his fate.

  I told you Walter, you wouldn’t make it out.

  17

  Silence fills my ears again. No footsteps, shrills, or moans from the dead, or whatever abomination is running loose down here. I knock out the lights inside the elevator and slowly drop to my knees, the darkness from outside taking hold of the carriage and giving me some sort of cover. I make sure to keep my distance from the opening as I place my head low to the ground and peer out, my eyes instantly adjusting.

  I don’t see anything. There’s debris everywhere and more exposed wires hanging like vines from the ceiling, but no dead or soldiers visible. So what the hell nabbed Walter?

  The last thing I wanted to do is play hide- and-go-seek with any of the infected, but I guess I don’t have a choice in the matter. Across the way, past the apparent trap, is my way down to S-2. For once, I would like a scenario that didn’t involve me possibly getting eaten. I’m just saying.

  I get back to my feet and move to the side of the opening, my Glock clutched tightly in my hand as I kneel down and try to look below the carriage. A massive puddle of what I can only guess to be Walters’s blood is spread all over. I can’t spot his more than likely mutilated body, but I do see the dark tinted blood being dragged off towards a hole in the wall.

  With no dead in visible sight and my sensitive ears picking up nothing, I cautiously slip down through the opening and hit the ground. Oddly enough, I can now hear something scurrying about, moving within the rubble that is everywhere. Or maybe I’m just imagining it. Who knows? What I do know is that I need to make it across here quick, fast, and in a hurry to get to S-2.

  I’ve got both of my hands clutched on my Glock, every muscle fiber taut and poised for whatever may come at me. I start to walk forward, cautiously peering in all directions, wishing I had grown eyes in the back of my head. Would have come in handy right about now. One foot in front of the other, I train the Glock at every little nook and cranny as busted concrete and other odds and ends crunch under my boots.

  I know you’re in here and that you’re watching me. Show your ugly fucking face already so I can blow it off!

  The fine hairs on the back of my neck sprint to attention and a chill of something behind me sends a warning down my spine. My legs throw me around to nothing trailing in my wake. Standing there, my eyes and Glock in sync looking over everything, I pick up the faintest noise directly behind me. If that didn’t give it away, then the fowl stench of its rotting body would have been a clear indicator.

  I tumble forward end over end as I feel the breeze of its claws barely skim the back of my neck. My feet hit the ground and I spin around, squeezing off two perfectly placed rounds that find their mark in the creature’s forehead as it lunges for me. It falls to the ground hard and motionless, the walnut sized holes in its head oozing that thick, pasty looking blood.

  I stand fully erect and lower my Glock to the floor, cautiously walking towards the mutated thing. I know its dead, but I don’t want to be that fool that just rushes in. I slightly nudge its flesh-deprived arm, finding no response. I take a deep breath and peer ahead, finding the door that leads onto S-2.

  I step around the dead creature and head for the door, making it halfway through the dilapidated corridor before something grabs my pack from behind and rips me backwards. It throws me against part of the wall that is busted up, the air escaping my lungs as a piece of rebar impales my upper right thigh. No pain; just more of that dead sensation that registers to my brain that something has ripped into my body. nerves must be completely gone now.

  I place my hands on the wall and try to push forward, lifting my right leg up to try and free it from the jagged piece of metal protruding out of the discolored meat. Out of the corner of my right eye I spot something massive running towards me. Its mouth is immense and open for business, rows upon rows of knife-like teeth gleaming in the flickers of light. It’s the biggest thing I’ve come across while being here. It’s fast, strong, and I’m willing to bet it’s got a hollow leg to fill up with humanish meat.

  It slams its giant cleaver-like palm around my throat and lifts me off the ground, my leg freed from the rebar that has chunks of my flesh dangling from its rusted edges. It snarls and huffs, blowing sticky strings of spit and whatever bacteria that is probably festering inside its meat grinder of a mouth at me. It has no visible eyes and the flesh from its nose is gone, leaving nothing more than the bone showing through the rough and tattered skin draping down over its head. A blank canvas of bruised and torn flesh. The oth
er no-pulse walkers I’ve killed have looked like hell, but this abomination takes the cake ten times over.

  It shrills loudly and grips my throat even tighter, reeling me in with its muscular tree-trunk arm that has pieces of bone shooting out in every direction. I grab a handful of its bone from its shoulder, breaking it off and jabbing it in the side of its neckish area. It lets out a roar as it reaches for the reddish caked bone with its free hand, blood oozing out and down its deformed body.

  I try to break free from its hold, slamming my elbow down on its arm repeatedly and kicking it in the stomach.

  It flicks its wrist and hurls me across the room like an unwanted toy, my battered and beaten body slamming hard against some metal pipes that dislodge from the wall and start hissing. The fumes hit my nose immediately.

  Gas.

  I cough and gag from the pungent odor, my eyes locking onto the abomination that is trying to get a beat on me once again. It removed the bone jetting out from its neck, the thick blood bubbling and dropping to the floor in clumps.

  I peer over my shoulder and find the exit, a stupid and crazy thought manifesting inside my throbbing head. I’ll probably die, but it can’t be any worse than the situation I’m currently in.

  I reach back to my pack and remove one of the flares, holding it tightly as I get to my feet and make a beeline for the exit. It shrills loudly, and runs after me. The fumes haven’t made it this far yet, the smell dissipating as I leave the scene. I pop the top to the flare and toss it back towards the puncture. The sparks spewing from the top grab hold of the gas and ignite, creating a thunderous explosion that shakes the very ground. A heat wave engulfs the room, incinerating everything, including my dead admirer.

  My feet crest the exit when the shockwave from the blast overtakes me and slingshots me forward, my ass cooking at one billion degrees until nicely done. I hit the ground hard and tumble into a wall, ash and parts of the building raining down upon my scorched skull. My ears ring and I can smell my flesh burning.