The Lazarus Strain Chronicles (Book 4): The Dead

by Deville, Sean

  She was the one that gave Gaia the intel that allowed them to tip off Azrael at the airport. She hated herself, but to be found out as a spy didn’t usually end well for those within the ranks of the clandestine agency. As the world fell apart, her association with Gaia fortunately became meaningless, her role for them seemingly forgotten. Now her loyalty was fully with the men she had helped survive, but she feared the day Nick would one day learn the truth because she knew that he would likely kill her for her betrayal. Her days of sending information to Father were over, and her betrayal had never been voluntary. If the Americans had Mother though, was Natasha’s duplicity about to be exposed?

  24.08.19

  Frederick, USA

  “Explain it to me again?” Schmidt sat stone face in her small office, Jee the only other person in the room. Jee definitely felt uncomfortable being alone with her new boss, the Professor’s stare piercing and accusatory. There was an odour in the room that Jee couldn’t quite place, the smell of evil perhaps.

  Even here, the ever-present surveillance cameras watched down on Jee, the electronic eyes monitoring her every movement. There was no escaping the prison they all found themselves in.

  “We need to keep the immune awake. If they fall asleep again, we may lose them like we lost Anthony Powell.”

  “And you think you can explain what happened to AP35BM?” Still, after witnessing his death, Schmidt refused to honour his sacrifice by using his actual name. The body had already been moved to the dissection table, something Schmidt was brimming with intrigue about. She didn’t realise her evident excitement made her seem like a ghoul. Or perhaps Schmidt did realise, and just didn’t care.

  “Yes. Reece told me some of it.”

  “I do wish you wouldn’t use their names. They aren’t people anymore, they are property.”

  “I can’t do that,” Jee said stubbornly. “I gave an oath, and part of that oath is to respect my patients.”

  “But Doctor Lee, they aren’t YOUR patients.”

  “Even so,” said Jee, “I will help you with seeking and securing the cure, but I won’t be party to their dehumanisation.” Schmidt sighed. Such noble and ethical ideas always got in the way of proper scientific practice. You had to detach yourself away from the human element so that you could let the science flow freely.

  “As you wish,” Schmidt conceded. “Now that we are friends again, do you mind telling me how a man’s skin seemed to peel away without outside intervention?”

  “I have no idea, but Reece might. From what they tell me, the immune have developed a psychic connection. They all suffer the same dream.”

  “Suffer seems to be an interesting choice of words,” Schmidt said. She wasn’t sure she had time for this nonsense. Whatever Jee had been told was surely just hysterical hearsay.

  “Not really, not considering what they tell me happens when they are asleep. Apparently, they dream of being in a desert of pain and misery.”

  “A desert, how very Freudian of them,” Schmidt sneered.

  “They tell me that while there, they can communicate with each other and that they are being chased.”

  “I fear CR28HT might be pulling your leg here.” Jee shook her head defiantly.

  “No, she can’t be, and I can prove it.”

  “Oh,” Schmidt said, genuinely surprised. “I would love to see how you propose to manage that.”

  “She said one of the people chasing her goes by the name of Smith. Several of the immune know who this man is in the real world, so they were able to share it with everyone who existed with them in the dream.” There was more to it than that, something Reece hadn’t shared. In the desert, they just seemed to know who Smith was.

  “Smith is such a common name…” and yet not a name the immune were likely to have any special interest in concocting, Schmidt suddenly realised.

  “Colonel Smith, for clarity. Not so common now I’m sure you will agree. It’s the same name as the man who first developed XV1 if I’m not mistaken.” There had been a danger for Jee to allow smugness to creep into her voice, but she defied her own ego to prevent it. Smugness wouldn’t work well with Schmidt. It wouldn’t work very well at all. Schmidt looked as if she had just been slapped.

  “Preposterous,” Schmidt insisted. And yet…

  “I was also told the name of another immune, one called Azrael. If you will remember, that was the name of Smith’s first test subject.”

  “Coincidence,” Schmidt said, continuing down the road of denial.

  “Check the audio and video logs. You will see I couldn’t have given them that information.” Jee knew that this suspicion lurked within Schmidt.

  “This better not be some sort of game you are playing, Doctor,” Schmidt warned.

  “I’m not stupid,” Jee countered. “I’m well aware of what you are capable of.” Schmidt actually laughed.

  “Why Doctor Lee, whatever do you mean?” Jee didn’t answer that. Instead, she struggled with what she was going to say next, but one of the immune they held was already dead. If she didn’t act, the rest would likely follow Big T into the morgue. There were things she needed to say, despite her reluctance. As much as she despised Schmidt, there was still the goal of trying to crack the secrets of Lazarus.

  “There’s something else. I think I know why our anti-serum won’t work.” That got Schmidt’s attention all right. Schmidt didn’t say anything, just waited for Jee to carry on speaking, the Professor’s eyes wide with anticipation. “Going through Smith’s files, I found something that might explain everything. His donor, Jessica Dunn…” There she goes again, thought Schmidt, using names.

  “Yes, well spit it out.”

  “I think she is pregnant.” Could that really be the answer? thought Jee. She didn’t realise what she risked unleashing.

  “Pregnant?”

  “Some of Smith’s notes were hard to decipher, and the part of the medical history form that made up Jessica Dunn’s hospital file was missing from the scan they sent us. That’s why it was missed.”

  “Could it be that simple?” Schmidt asked herself. Were the hormones released in pregnancy the answer? And could it even help them?

  “I don’t know,” Jee answered. Schmidt looked at her.

  “May I share something with you, Doctor?”

  “Yes, of course,” Jee said apprehensively.

  “I no longer think Smith’s antiserum is the panacea we seek.” The revelation was a surprise to Jee who had seen so many people sacrificed to try and mimic its effects.

  “Really?”

  “Yes. When I last spoke to Smith, before he broke off all contact, it was clear to me that the man was quite insane.” A somewhat ironic statement for Schmidt to make, thought Jee.

  “But surely you don’t think…”

  “I do think. I was witness to him injecting infected individuals with XV1, all of them seemingly cured by it. Of course, I have no scientific evidence for this, but there was something very wrong with Smith and those he injected.”

  “Do we carry on down this research path then? Perhaps there’s an antiviral we haven’t tried yet.”

  “No, we’ve tried them all. Lazarus has been completely unaffected by everything we have thrown at it. The only sign of a cure now might be a path for madness as well as your claims that it somehow puts our immune residents in danger.”

  “So what do we do?” Jee asked. For the first time since coming here, she could see that Schmidt was filled with doubt.

  “Doctor, I really don’t know.” That was possibly the first time Schmidt had ever said those words. They would carry on with the experimentation into the undead themselves for now, but it was Schmidt’s formulating opinion that, for perhaps the first time ever, she was going to fail to find the answers she sought. That feeling weighed heavily on her, a dark depression beginning to grow in her mind. She had never encountered anything like Lazarus before. Schmidt had also never failed before, not to this degree, and it was an unusual feeling. H
owever was she to cope with it?

  25.08.19

  The Peak District, UK

  Despite the country’s depleted infrastructure, Natasha found a way into the computer servers of the interim military government stationed in Leeds. Before the crisis, she had been the best hacker MI13 had…now she was likely the only hacker, the rest probably victims to the virus.

  The information she found was scrambled, cobbled together on systems that were never meant to be joined. But there was nothing encouraging. Within thirty minutes, she had broken into the supposedly secure email system being used, downloading thousands of messages that had been sent pre and post-crisis. Over several hours, she began to formulate a picture of what was happening in Leeds. A democratic, prosperous city that was being turned into a totalitarian fortress. She learnt about the colour coding system, the use of the Fawkes list and the complete abolition of habeas corpus. The rule of law established over hundreds of years had been usurped by the military who now ran things by the power of the gun.

  She didn’t know how she felt about it if she was honest. She worked for MI13 which routinely flouted the laws of the land, but only so they could protect it. Natasha could see sense in ruling by absolute martial law when faced with an enemy such as the undead. Desperate measures were needed to deal with the impossible situation. Would it work, though? Would ignoring everything that made Britain what it was save them?

  And what would be left even if the city was made safe?

  She doubted this would act as any kind of deterrent for Haggard and his men. If they retreated there, they would be right at the top of the tree, their skills as soldiers more valuable than their weight in diamonds. Same applied for herself and the rest of her MI13 team. The civilians though, where would they fit?

  It was clear that Jessica didn’t want her blood being used for any more experiments. She had seen first-hand what the supposed saviour, XV1, had created. Monsters, able to hunt the immune in a world of dreams. Natasha couldn’t get her head around that. She could understand how Jessica felt, however, having something about you used against you and those you cared about.

  Natasha continued her search. She knew she was pushing her luck, but she also knew she wasn’t technically breaking any laws. Natasha worked for MI13, she was allowed into most networks and secret databases so long as it related to the mission. Right now, she was following the orders of her superiors. Nick had told her to find out what she could about how Leeds was being run, and that was exactly what she intended to do.

  So far as she could tell, Leeds was being turned into a totalitarian shithole. Just her kind of place.

  What do you think you are doing?

  The words popped up in a new window on her screen. She had about seven different windows open, so Natasha didn’t see it at first. The cursor blinked accusatorially at her, demanding her attention. She was surprised she had been discovered, the backdoors provided by Moros and MI13 usually undetectable.

  My job. What’s it to you?

  I can’t allow you to continue

  Natasha smiled at that. Whoever this guy was, he clearly didn’t know who he was up against. She could ignore him, let him fret while she extracted the rest of the data she sought. But sometimes, with the stresses of life, you kind of got the urge to play and see just how good the other guy was.

  I’m with the security services.

  I’m authorised to be here.

  Bullshit

  How else could I have broken in?

  It was a fair point that would play to her new opponent’s ego. If she wasn’t supposed to have access, it meant that whoever had designed the system had left it open to unwanted access. Before Lazarus, whoever was on the other end would be trying to figure out where she was breaking in from. Natasha hadn’t taken any of the usual precautions to prevent that because there wasn’t any point. She was operating remotely via Moros, so it would be doing all that for her. She would appear to be in London, any back trace sending the searcher through multiple locations in an endless chase.

  You should stop this!

  I plan to. Just waiting for the last download…

  And it’s done. Thank you for your cooperation.

  She broke the connection before he could give her any kind of witty comeback. She would be back, and she was sure they would speak again. Even though her new opponent now knew of her ability to penetrate to the heart of the Leeds’ servers, she really didn’t see how her further incursions could be prevented.

  24.08.19

  Mid Atlantic

  Winters had sent Campbell on this mission, although he wasn’t in charge. That honour was given to the Captain sat next to him.

  The Hercules transport plane dipped slightly as it hit turbulence, none of the men travelling in it even noticing. A bit of turbulence would be nothing to what they would shortly be undertaking. The High Altitude, Low Opening drop (HALO) was the quickest and easiest way to get the assault men to the island of Tristan da Cunha. Two teams would parachute in, the best the US army had, twenty-four men from B Squadron of the 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta.

  As good as Campbell was, these guys made him seem like a fucking boy scout. He was thus here merely as an advisor until the island base had been secured. Although he was capable of running the mission, his last failure still weighed heavy in the minds of those who made those sort of decisions. He knew some of these men, one of the teams with him when they took Mother into custody. That had been a basic, low-risk operation, not like this. Here, they were dropping into a remote location with no immediate means of evacuation. Two destroyers were steaming towards the island, but they were still days away. Effectively there would be no significant backup. When they touched down, they would be on their own except for the air cover that had been arranged.

  The precarious state of his country demanded the high risk of this mission be accepted by those willing to undertake it.

  There were drones already above the island, and an AC-130 Spectre Gunship would give them vital air support. There were so many threats facing them though, and not just from this mission. When he had been sent to snatch Mother, Campbell had half-joked to Winters that there might not be a country for him to come back to. There was no joke in that statement now, the country of his birth on a knife-edge, teetering on the brink of destruction.

  The importance of this mission couldn’t even be calculated. If they could force entry to the island’s bunker complex and if they could get inside, they might be able to find the answers to the cure for Lazarus. If Mother had been telling the truth, at the very least, this might be the place where the data on the vaccine could be found.

  Because of the nature of the mission and the risks it posed to the men travelling with him, every man here had been given a chance to back out. None had. They had all been witness to the perilous state of the world. Some of them had lost friends and family. They all knew what Lazarus meant for them and those they cared for. Protecting their country and their loved ones was the only thing that now mattered.

  Every man here was more than prepared to give their lives for this mission, including Campbell. He lived for the welfare of his country; without such a purpose in his life, he was truly lost.

  “Thirty minutes to drop,” a voice said over their helmet intercoms. This would be Campbell’s second HALO drop, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. It was a high-risk procedure, designed to get the men on the ground as quickly as possible. They would be jumping at twenty-five thousand feet, no knowledge of what, if any, air and ground defences were present at the drop zone. Nobody really expected the Gaia headquarters to be too heavily defended, but Mother’s history as an international arms dealer did not go unnoticed.

  They could have anything down there.

  Even with the satellite intelligence they had gathered, they would be dropping into the unknown without any form of immediate extraction, safe in the knowledge that the very drop itself could kill one or more of them. All in a days’ work for D
elta Force, but perhaps a tad more than Campbell had signed up for. He would feel a lot better when his feet were finally back on the ground.

  25.08.19

  Leeds, UK

  The barricade across the motorway bridge wouldn’t hold the undead for long. With his shotgun carried on his back, Andy tried to get the hang of firing the L86A2 a harried soldier had thrust into his grasp an hour earlier. He had complained briefly that he had never fired such a weapon, but that had just caused the soldier to shrug. Upon further pleading, and almost begrudgingly, the Corporal had given Andy a brief rundown of how the gun worked.

  “It all comes down to pointing that end at the things you want to kill and pulling the trigger,” the soldier had finally said before leaving Andy with the weapon and three further clips of ammunition.

  One of those clips was already empty, discarded on the floor beside his feet. It was a strong possibility that most of his bullets had hit their targets, but very few of the zombies seemed to be dropping. To Andy’s amazement, they seemed to easily weather the impacts inflicted upon them. The undead were finally here, and the Corporal was screaming at them to get their bloody acts together and shoot for their heads. Not the easiest thing to do when you weren’t trained in the use of the gun you found yourself armed with. To his credit, Andy thought he was doing a decent job, all considering.

  There were only a dozen of them guarding the bridge, two soldiers and ten civilians wearing the green wristbands that displayed their importance to the new world. The street lights still shone, which gave them all the light they needed, while also adding an eerie quality to a foe that was streaming wildly towards their defensive post. It was clear that whatever selection criteria had been used to put Andy and those like him in this position clearly wasn’t working. The number of undead attacking wasn’t even in the dozens, but it was a certainty that most of the shots being fired off were going wide. Andy figured he was one of the few capable marksmen here, and in the scope of his rifle, he lined up another shot which took a zombie in the shoulder.