by Matt James
“This place is freaky,” Fitz said, splaying his L.E.D. over the room, looking like he was about to retch. “I thought the Nach were bad… But the people running this place were even worse.”
Logan immediately agreed with Fitz’s criticism of the Wohn Tod as soon as his light found one of maybe a hundred or so large specimen jars. He inspected one in particular. Inside this container was what looked like a type of mongoose, except it was as big as a Komodo dragon. With fangs to boot.
“I almost crapped myself when I saw what was locked in here with me,” Fitz said, laughing a little. “Lucky for me they’re already dead.”
“Ugh,” CJ said, her face pale white in the bright beam of their flashlights. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
Logan didn’t either. Every major species that inhabited the Serengeti was on display like some formaldehyde freak show from hell. The room must have taken up seventy-five percent of the basement level, with the middle being dedicated to performing these horrific acts against nature…and man.
He looked up and saw that the ceilings were vaulted. They must go straight up into the floor above, giving the room a cavernous feel.
Now that he thought about it, Logan realized that all of the rooms on the first floor were to the outside of the hall, away from its center. This room was the central hub of this entire facility.
Mengele’s pride and joy.
“Are those people?” Jan asked in a low, growling tone. His light showed a half-dozen vertical coffin-sized containers. The bodies were naked, floating in the viscous green fluid. Three were male and the other three were—
“Oh, my God!”
Logan shared CJ’s horrified sentiment. The men, while stripped nude, looked semi-normal, only having minor signs of physical abuse and scarring from what was most likely some kind of brutal experimentation performed on their bodies. But the women…they were different. They, like the men, were nude and floated lifelessly in the chemical soup, but they also had one feature that was obviously dissimilar.
“They’re pregnant,” CJ said, gagging.
Logan watched as she stumbled away, vomiting beside another of the tanks. This one contained a chimera of sorts. It looked like half a baby giraffe had been combined with half a zebra. It was a strange and disturbing combination, one that he wouldn’t even know where to begin to describe it if someone were to ask. He hoped no one would.
“CJ…” Logan said simply.
She shooed him away. “I’m fine—well not fine, but…”
He knew what she meant. No one was fine with this, but the three men accompanying her had been hardened by war. But this wasn’t war. This was a crime against nature and humanity. This was evil.
“Logan,” a voice said, tinged in German, “you need to see this.”
Logan turned away from his sister, who was slowly composing herself. He saw the former demolitions expert halfway across the room, staring into a tank that was easily floor-to-ceiling in height and another ten-feet-wide.
He slowly made his way through the operating tables, which were stained with a dark brown coloration. Blood, he thought as he swept his flashlight back and forth, spreading the high-powered beam across the space. There were six tables in all, including a sizeable platform that was recessed into the floor, most likely used for larger specimens. He walked across it, noticing a hole at the center of the gigantic operating table. It unnerved him. He knew what it was for.
A drain.
Looking up to the darkened glass, Logan could see an enormous shape inside. It was easily twice his height. Jan was only a couple of feet from it, staring into the void, unmoving. As Logan stepped up next to him, he could see the older man had a single tear dripping down his cheek. Whatever was in here had unhinged the otherwise stoic man to tears. And Logan saw why.
“Is that a hippo?” Logan asked, shocked.
“Yes,” Jan replied, “and something else too...”
Logan looked closer and saw it. The hippopotamus was standing erect…like a human. He saw various chains keeping it upright and against the rear wall of the room. But the body was all wrong. It had the same thick build as a hippo but had the proportions of a human being.
“Look at the face.”
Fitz had quietly stepped up next to Logan and Jan, a look of revolt on his face as well. They had both seen some awful things in their lifetimes, but this was insane. It was even worse than watching their bullets kill those kids. That, again, was war.
Logan looked up from its bare chest and midsection, which at one time or another, belonged to a woman, and saw what Fitz had. The face was all hippo, but the open, lifeless eyes, along with the brow and skull, were human. It even had hair, floating around in the green liquid. Probably would have been shoulder length if it wasn’t floating.
“I think I know where it came from.”
The three men turned, finding CJ, hand pressed up against one of the pregnant woman’s tanks. Not one to hide her true emotions, she let the tears stream down her face. She looked back over to them, blinking heavy, containing herself just long enough to finish her hypothesis.
“They weren’t just experimenting on them…” She looked back up into the dead woman’s face. “They were growing them.”
22
“Wait, I thought you said they were trying to develop some sort of super-serum?” Fitz asked, confused.
They had backtracked back upstairs and were now searching a few of the rooms on the first floor they had skipped. They still took every turn cautiously—even though Fitz had confirmed that there were only the two saber-lions in the bunker with them.
“Apparently, it wasn’t the only thing they were working on down here,” Jan replied. “Mengele and his men were obviously tinkering with the genetic code outside of their primary goal.”
Fitz shook his head. “I still can’t believe it was Mengele.”
Jan thumbed over his shoulder back towards the entrance. “Would you like to meet him?”
Fitz looked at the German but didn’t answer. He just shook his head no and continued forward, following Logan and CJ back towards the hallway not containing the bodies of Saami and Pandu’s. They didn’t need to relive that moment, and honestly, Fitz didn’t want to see it for a first time.
Rest now, my friends, Logan thought as they passed.
“The Wohn Tod were evidently looking into cross-species experimentation as well as their fabled God Blood,” Jan said.
Logan knew it honestly didn’t matter why they did what they did. It was done and over with and now they were tasked with cleaning up the mess. Either way, they needed to contact the Bullpen and figure out their next step in this fight against this plague.
“But why the animals and the cross-breeding?” CJ asked, unnerved.
“Could it be that they were just fucking nut jobs?” Fitz asked, getting some of his wit back.
“Clearly,” CJ added, “but there has to be a reason why. Like you said, the serum makes sense. They wanted to create stronger, better soldiers. Maybe even turn the tide in the war.”
“I don’t think so,” Jan countered. “Remember the note the doctor left? It said something about leaving Hitler behind and moving on.”
“Desertion?” Fitz asked. “They were going AWOL?”
“Sure sounded like it,” Logan said from the front of the pack. “We’re pretty sure this entire complex was off the Fuhrer’s radar completely. The Wohn Tod didn’t believe in what the Reich stood for. They wanted more.”
“A secret organization operating under their noses,” Fitz said. “Most likely using Nazi funds as well.” Then he thought of something that didn’t fit, motioning up. “What of the SS logo on the hatch above? You think they had some help from within the Schutzstaffel?”
“I think it’s pretty safe to say they had agents within the SS. Stealing the building materials from a Nazi warehouse and sneaking them out of Germany overnight would have been easy too.”
Fitz nodded his agreement. If an
yone knew their German history it would be Jan. He knew the man had no ties to the radical group, and it was honestly a blessing to have someone with this kind of knowledge right now. They needed any advantage they could get.
“How did this all start?” CJ asked, making the three men pause mid-stride and face her. They had just made it around the corner, back into the entrance tunnel back to the stairs.
“What do you mean?” Jan asked.
“What I mean is… How did this all start in the first place—how was this virus unleashed?”
“From the poachers in the pit topside,” Logan said, remembering their first encounter with what they would later dub, the Nach.
The screams.
The glowing red eyes.
The bloodied chaos.
“Correct,” CJ agreed. “We need to somehow investigate the burial for clues to how they were infected.” Her face fell. “But… It may not be safe. If it’s contagious then someone like the CDC should take care of it.”
“I’m not going in there,” Fitz said. “I say let the experts handle it. I’m just here to kill the sons-of-bitches.”
“So,” CJ asked again, “what was it?”
“It, uh… It wasn’t blood, obviously,” Logan said, his mind in three different places. “That would have dried up long ago.”
“Anyone know of some other protein that could have lasted seventy-plus years buried in the ground and then transmitted to a human?” Logan, Fitz, and Jan shook their heads, their night vision devices swaying back and forth. They opted to use them again, keeping their hands clear for their weapons. Just in case.
“Anatomy and biology weren’t exactly my strong suits in school, CJ,” Fitz said laughing. “I was a natural with a rifle and had shit for grades. The army was an easy choice.”
“Same here, mate,” Logan said.
“It’s possible,” Jan said, continuing the conversation. “We don’t really know what is in the Gott Blut—the God Blood. If it’s something synthetic, then, who knows? It could last forever in an ice box even.”
“But, yes,” he went on as they reached the bottom of the metal stairs leading back up to the surface, “I’m no expert either. I made things explode for a living. If it were an explosive I could dissect it and tell you everything. But this…”
Logan perked up at a memory. “Wait, remember the note?” Jan and CJ nodded, Fitz just shrugged.
“Only what you’ve told me,” Fitz said.
“Right,” Logan said. “Anyway… It stated that the earlier versions of the elixir caused the subjects to turn violent, craving flesh and blood.” He pointed up. “I’m willing to bet the farm that’s what we’ve got here.”
“You think we are dealing with the more…unstable…version?” CJ asked.
“Yes,” Logan replied a matter-of-fact, “I do. It all fits the behavior.”
They stood there motionless, everyone waiting for the other to say something, but no one chimed in. What else could be said?
“Alright,” Logan said, doing his leader thing, “let’s get topside and call in Mo. We need to get the hell out of here and regroup.”
“They’re on their way, mate,” Fitz said, grabbing the ladder. “I sent Mo back for the others...just in case. Adnan is going to stay behind and hold down the fort.”
“ETA?” Logan asked.
Fitz looked down at his watch, calculating the time the chopper would arrive. “If Mo is flying like a banshee with her dress on fire, they should be here shortly.”
Logan nodded and motioned for Fitz to climb. They needed to get back to base in one piece and retool for a heavier enemy. Their current weapons weren’t going to cut it if these things got bigger.
Like the freak in the jail cell downstairs. He looked at the floor, visualizing the large skeleton with ragged flesh strapped to the chair on the floor below. He didn’t want to admit it to anyone, but he had become intrigued with everything happening. Call it the result of a boy’s natural interest with dinosaurs or with Kaiju like Godzilla and Nemesis. His mind shouted at him to flee or fight, but his inner voice told him to investigate it too. Find answers.
What made matters worse is, he knew of some pretty horrible possibilities out in the plains that, if infected, could wreak havoc on them. Shit, he thought. Some of them aren’t even carnivores. But he knew better. The God Blood would see to that nicely and turn the most docile giant into the worst monster imaginable.
OUTBREAK
“Let both sides seek to invoke the wonders of science instead of its terrors. Together let us explore the stars, conquer the deserts, eradicate disease, tap the ocean depths, and encourage the arts and commerce.”
~John F. Kennedy
23
Tanzania, 1946
One year, he thought to himself. It had been a year to the date since he had taken a permanent leave of absence from his post at Auschwitz to set up his little side project in the south of Africa.
He leaned back, rubbing his temples, recalling some of the information he had just read. The reports were promising, but the results were lacking. He needed more men who thought like him, but he recognized that wasn’t possible.
He knew it was senseless to think that way, though. There was only one of him. There was only one Mengele. He was unique. He believed himself to be…special. It was the reason—the purpose—of starting the Wohn Tod. The Fuhrer had no idea what the Gott Blut could really be used for. Yes, it could turn the subject into a near immortal—a god—but it could also do so much more.
It will do more.
Staring at his notes, Mengele sighed, beyond exhausted. The initial tests of the current serum were encouraging, but it still wasn’t right. The desired physical changes had occurred, but the changes to the mind was still an enigma as to what was causing them.
What would turning into a god solve, if you are to only act as a brute?
He rubbed the weariness from his heavy eyelids and sat straight. He knew it would take every single spare second he had here at the Wohn Tod’s secret location to get it right. Someone would eventually come for them. It would only be a matter of time until someone survived an encounter with his men roaming the plains and report them.
By now the Allied forces were busy chasing a figment in South America, following a false trail he had set up to keep them occupied while he moved full-time to this outpost. If all went accordingly, they would believe him hidden away, living his life in peace in the jungles of the Amazon.
Mengele thought the Allies were fools. If they were as learned as he, they could have easily followed the trail south of Rommel’s camp and found them here. Then again, there had been no reports of the Nazis continuing any further. So why would they think such?
His initial estimate of the place was correct. It was plentiful with life, specifically the mammalian DNA the Gott Blut required to work. For a reason that still escaped him, he still couldn’t figure out why the elixir had no effect outside of mammals. He had always wondered what the serpents of this land would become if given the Gott Blut. He couldn’t complain, though, he still had an abundant amount of viable species at his disposal whenever he called for a new…specimen. It’s all they were to him.
Mengele believed them all to be expendable—even his own men. His own life was truly the only one he believed mattered.
He had used some of the lesser soldiers stationed here—the ones that had started to second guess the cause as the months went by. It was an understandable situation, but it was also a feeling that needed to be quelled immediately. The last thing he needed was a mutiny. He knew it was rational for some of the men to feel that way. They were, in fact, originally told that they would be relieved after a few months. But no one would be coming. The only time frame they truly had is when they ran out of food and water… Which would be never. They would hunt food and collect water if needed.
“Doktor?” A shaky voice asked from the doorway of his private quarters.
He turned to find the younger man stan
ding at attention, waiting for him to reply. The man, whose name he had yet to learn, was visibly uncomfortable, sweating profusely, his forehead beading with the salty liquid.
“Ja?” Mengele answered, seeing the soldier flinch when he spoke. The people here were still terrified of him after all this time…and it served him well. They obeyed him to no fault, and they never second guessed one of his decisions. Particularly ones like this. If it were a more seasoned soldier… He didn’t have to worry about that, however. They had all been slowly taken care of. The only soldiers left were ones he could control.
Smiling at the private, he knew why he was summoned. The men here had strict orders to retrieve him once the newest test subject was prepped. It was to be the first experiment with the latest of the serum. A new strand made from the oldest lot.
His heart pumped with excitement at the possibilities the most recent combination would provide. A truly unique outcome. And based on this result, they would proceed with the next phase of the project.
“Er ist bereit?” Mengele asked. The soldier nodded, confirming the subject was, indeed, ready.
He stood and approached the man. The younger soldat was maybe in his early twenties and easily could have physically overpowered Mengele. But the Angel of Death didn’t need to use muscle to intimidate. He used something better. Fear… Reputation.
If anyone here crossed him and didn’t kill him, they knew they would become the next in a long line of experiments. And that…was something even worse than death.
“Nimm mich,” Mengele said, shooing the man forward. The soldier was nothing more than a lackey for the Wohn Tod’s scientists now—an errand boy. With most of the commanding officers dead from predator attacks while out on hunting expeditions, Mengele was truly in control.
They quickly marched through halls with practiced strides. Both men could have done this in the dark, having moved through the corridors hundreds of times.