“How do you know that for sure?” I asked.
“This isn’t the first one we’ve experimented on. There have been others, and after several years of research and observation, all of them, without exception, have developed into these things. You probably know them as Draugr. The word comes from-”
“Norse mythology,” I said, interrupting. “Undead warriors that attack the living.”
Higgins blinked. “I’m amazed you know that. No one else ever has.”
“I read a book about it in college.”
“Interesting. Well, we don’t call these Draugr. Not after they grow a tail and their knee joints pop. Once they reach this stage, we call them Chimeras.”
“Greek mythology now,” I said. “Norse wasn’t good enough for you?”
A narrow smile. “I chose names that matched the creatures. But, in Mr. Jones’s case, it refers more to the medical definition of a chimera. Are you familiar with that one?”
“No.”
“It’s a single organism made of the cells of more than one genotype. Multiple types of DNA, in other words. In this case, human and…whatever the infection is.”
“I thought it was some kind of bacteriophage,” Gabe said.
“It exhibits some characteristics of a bacteriophage,” Higgins replied, “but also of viruses and other things we still don’t understand.”
“So…what is it, exactly?” I said.
A shrug. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I know it’s not extra-terrestrial, and I know it was bioengineered from a single-celled organism that’s been on earth since long before the dinosaurs went extinct. But as for what it’s made of and how it works…I’m afraid that part is a bit beyond me.”
“Are you telling me the infection is man-made?” Gabe asked, pointing through the window.
“Not entirely. It was bio-engineered, or maybe bio-altered would be a better term, but the original organism exists in nature.”
“What organism?”
Higgins looked at Jacobs.
“We can discuss that later,” the general said. “It’s not important right now. What is important is you two understand that there are going to be more of these things. A lot more.”
I walked closer to the window and touched the glass. “How long did it take him to get this way?”
“Like I said, I’ve been feeding him for three years.”
“Yeah, but he became a Draugr first, right?”
“Right.”
“How long did that take?
Higgins leaned his back against the window and crossed one foot over the other. “Ghouls have a gestation period after they’re turned. They stay ghouls until about eighteen months go by, then they undergo some drastic changes to their internal structures. At that point, it doesn’t take much for them to turn into Grays. Once they reach that stage, it depends on how much they eat. They get bigger and bigger until they reach a kind of critical mass, and then the knees pop backward and they start growing a tail. The armored skin comes last.”
“Is there a stage beyond this one?”
“Not as far as we can tell. This seems to be the end of the line from a morphological standpoint. Except for this.”
Higgins walked back to the console, picked up a handset, and pressed the transmit button.
“Eddie, send the second drop.”
A second panel opened in the ceiling and a bundle of something I could not make out fell through. The thing that had once been Anthony Jones had just finished its bloody side of meat and now turned its attention to the new material. Looking more closely, I saw Higgins had dropped a bundle of root vegetables. Carrots, potatoes, turnips, that sort of thing. Without hesitation, the creature grabbed a potato in one hand and a turnip in the other and began eating. As I watched, the dread and disgust I had been feeling transformed into something just below the level of barely concealed panic.
“It’s…eating vegetables,” Gabe said in a quiet voice.
“On a long enough timeline,” Higgins said, “and after eating enough meat, the Draugr eventually become omnivorous. Some of them get there faster than others. Not sure why. Either way, that’s when the transformation really accelerates.”
I stood and felt my heart pounding in my chest. My face was cold, and my hands tingled with pins and needles. I walked over to the control panel and sat down heavily.
“Mr. Riordan,” Higgins said, sounding genuinely concerned. “Are you alright?”
I held up a hand. “Just give me a minute.”
The others gathered around and waited while I took a few long, deep breaths. I closed my eyes and focused on clearing my mind, focused on breathing. A minute or so later, I gathered myself enough to sit up and look at them.
“Do me a favor,” I said, pointing at the viewing window. “Close those doors.”
Higgins said, “Don’t worry, it can’t get through. That glass could stop a-”
“Just fucking close it,” I snapped.
Caleb walked over to the control panel and pressed a button. The steel panels slid back into place until the Chimera was, thankfully, out of sight. I breathed a little easier when the lights came back on.
Higgins walked over and drummed his fingers on the rim of the control panel. “So, uh…what other questions do you have?”
I looked at him and laughed bitterly. “Doc, there’s only one question left to ask. How long to do we have?”
The scientist looked at Caleb and raised his eyebrows.
“We’ve already seen a few emergences,” Caleb said. “No Chimeras yet, just Draugr. Mostly isolated cases, a ghoul finding a regular food source here and there. But we know the Grays can feed on other infected now, and satellite coverage is showing that happening in more and more places. The populations of revenants keep going down where no people live, like major cities, and not because they’re migrating.”
I swallowed hard. “They’re eating each other.”
A slow nod.
I stood up and faced Dr. Higgins. “Like I said, Doc. How much time do we have before we start seeing more Draugr?”
He rested an elbow on the console and rubbed the side of his neck. “Best estimate? Maybe a year. As for Mr. Jones,” he pointed at the window. “Two, maybe three years, tops.”
I rubbed my hands over my face and walked a few steps away. The Draugr had been a shock when I first saw them, but this was on another order of magnitude. When I looked at Gabe, he was standing with his hands on his hips, jaw clenched, head bowed.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s take a few steps back here. Caleb told me there are people trying to save the world, or whatever. I didn’t know what he meant then, but I think I’m starting to understand now.”
I turned around and walked back over to Jacobs. “How long have you known the infected were changing?”
The general let out a long sigh. “We saw the first signs a year and a half after the Outbreak. Right around the same time people started seeing Grays in the wastelands. The infected we had in captivity didn’t transform any faster than other ghouls. Like the doctor said, there was a gestation period regardless of how much they ate. But once that period passed…well, you know the rest.”
I let that sink in. “How many people know about this?”
“The president, me, Caleb, and a few others.”
“What others?”
“Hicks’s team and some government folks. You don’t need names right now. We can get to that part another time.”
I decided to let that one go, for the moment, and pressed on. “You’ve been keeping the Draugr’s existence a secret. Why?”
A shrug. “The usual shit. President didn’t want to cause a panic, didn’t want soldiers to start deserting again, didn’t want her enemies using it against her, blah fuckin’ blah blah. I’m sure you can figure out the rest.”
He was right. I could, and all too well. “Is there a plan?”
“Oh, yeah. There’s a plan alright. But that’s where we run into trouble.”
“What trouble?”
“We can’t get the military involved.”
I blinked at him. “Why the fuck not?”
“Because if we did, there are some folks who would use the opportunity to stage a military coup. And if that happens, we’re all up shit creek with a turd for a paddle.”
I looked at his face for a few protracted seconds and fought the urge to start screaming. “A coup. In the middle of all this. Are they fucking insane?”
“No. Just power hungry. The world might have changed, but people sure as hell haven’t. Greed and self-interest come before everything else, including the survival of the species.”
I looked at Gabe. I imagine my expression was not much different from his. There was anger, but not surprise. More like a sad, cynical kind of weariness.
“Then what the fuck are we supposed to do? If we can’t involve the military, how do we stop these things?”
Jacobs forked a couple of fingers and Gabe and me. “That’s where you two come in. Between the two of you, you command the second largest fighting force on the planet right now.”
“And then there’s the volunteer militias,” Caleb chimed in. “There aren’t a lot right now, but we’re working to change that.”
“Is that what you were doing in Arizona?” I asked. “You and…what did you call those people?”
“The Hellbreakers.”
“Right. So that’s where you recruited Muir and the rest of your team?”
A nod. “Yep.”
I looked at Jacobs. “So, you’re telling me you need me and Gabe to handle the fighting?”
“Not all of it. Just the part that requires a professional touch.”
No one spoke for a few seconds. Gabe and I looked at each other, both of us measuring, trying to gauge each other’s willingness. There was no way in hell I was going to say no, and Gabe knew it. When he looked down and nodded to himself, I knew he wasn’t going to say no either.
“Okay,” he said to Jacobs. “What do you need us to do?”
Jacobs pointed at Gabe. “You’re going to apply for a loan from Centurion National and borrow as much as they can lend you.”
He pointed at me. “You’re going to give him that loan and apply for a government contract to build cheap rifles for the Army.”
“I don’t own any factories that can make firearms.”
A grin. “Not yet you don’t. But mark my words, you will. You’re gonna get that contract, and I’m going to make damn sure it’s a big one. Then you’re going to use the contract funding and your cash and trade businesses to launder a whole shitload of wealth from other sources toward recruiting as many volunteer militias as humanly possible. That’s phase one.”
“Wait, what other sources? Whose money am I laundering?”
A sigh. “The opium trade.”
“The what?”
“You heard me.”
“How…what…seriously?”
“What, you never read about the CIA in the eighties? Yes, the opium trade. My agents control about half of it. How the hell do you think I fund the research we do here? I’m the head of Joint Special Operations Command, son. What do you think we do all day?”
Gabe saved me from another round of sputtering by saying, “What’s phase two?”
“Don’t worry about phase two right now.” Jacobs said. “Just do what I asked you, and if you can pull that off without getting yourselves killed or thrown in prison, we’ll talk about what comes next. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere I need to be. Higgins, give me a push. Caleb, give these two a ride home.”
Higgins took the reins and began pushing the old soldier toward the opposite door from where I came in. On his way by, Jacobs waved.
“Best of luck to you, fellas. You’re gonna need it.”
A few seconds later, the door shut behind him and he was gone.
“Well shit,” Gabe said.
“Yeah.”
“Now do you understand why I couldn’t tell you anything?”
Gabe and I looked at Caleb, and while I can’t speak for Gabe, I know in my case, it was with a newfound respect.
“Yeah. I understand.”
“Good. Now let’s go home. I hate this place.”
On the flight back to Colorado Springs, I looked out the port side window at the world below. There were mountains covered in white with trees straining through the glistening sheen. There were rivers and streams winding across the land, their waters sparkling in the sun. I saw a herd of elk running along the ruins of a highway and wolves crossing a frozen lake. There were towns with palisade walls and thin columns of smoke rising from chimneys and cookfires. I saw people in those towns, small and antlike from my perspective, and wondered if this was what we looked like to God, or Zeus, or Odin, or whoever it was that set this whole great circus of catastrophe in motion. I looked down and wondered, after everything we had done and the crimes that now defined us, if human beings really deserved to be a part of it all.
“Dark thoughts?” Gabe said through the radio. We were on our own channel, as requested by General Jacobs.
“You could say that.”
“What are they telling you?”
I turned to him, the darkness in the helicopter glazing my eyes after the harsh brightness of the day.
“They’re telling me we’re not just going to be fighting the infected,” I said. “They’re telling me it’s not going to be that simple. That we have to convince people to put aside their own wants and desires and pull together so our children can have a future. But at the same time, they’re also telling me it’s hopeless. That we’ll never get people to open their eyes and see that if we don’t all work together, then we’ll damn sure die together.”
Gabe nodded. “It’s a hell of a job ahead of us,” he said. “We’re going to be fighting a war against mankind’s oldest enemy.”
“What enemy is that?”
He looked at me, and the weight of all the years lived, miles trudged, battles fought, and pain endured were illuminated in the cold gray eyes.
“Human nature,” he said. “And that, Eric, is a war without end.”
The saga will continue in Surviving the Dead Volume 10:
ABSOLUTE ZERO
Also, be on the lookout for The Hellbreakers Volume 2:
EMERGENCE
Coming soon …
For more information, news, and updates on James N. Cook and the Surviving the Dead series:
Visit James N. Cook on Facebook
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Also by James N. Cook:
Surviving the Dead series:
No Easy Hope
This Shattered Land
Warrior Within
The Passenger
Fire in Winter
The Darkest Place
Savages
The Killing Line
Storm of Ghosts
The Hellbreakers
Quick Killer and the Iceman: A Surviving the Dead Story
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
James N. Cook is a martial arts enthusiast, a veteran of the U.S. Navy, a former cubicle dweller, and the author of the Surviving the Dead series. He lives in North Carolina.
Surviving The Dead | Book 9 | War Without End Page 37