Cryonic

by Travis Bradberry

  “So they’ll kill us with germs instead?”

  “Some of us, I suppose. They’re constantly making biological attacks against the Chinese military and government institutions. Problem is, the Chinese are really good at isolating the outbreak and treating the infected. Their medicine is so advanced that the casualties tend to be very low. Bombing has killed more civilians on this side than bio warfare.”

  “That thing, you know, the,” I hissed and made claws and fangs at Alex, “that Barry, Elliott, and Janet got, was that from a biological attack?”

  “No, definitely not. The doctors isolated the origin virus. It was human polyomavirus, JCV.”

  “What is that?”

  “We all have it, actually. Children get it from their parents. But something about the reanimation process caused the JCV to mutate radically in those three. Up until the last moment, the doctors thought they were dealing with a variola virus.”

  “A what?”

  “You know, like smallpox. When they were trying to make sense of Elliott, they finally realized that it wasn’t a variola after all. It was the JCV, but it had mutated so much that they hardly recognized it.”

  I didn’t understand everything Alex was saying, but one thing was clear—just like the other cryonics, I had all the ingredients for the super virus. Thinking about coming down with their illness made me paranoid. I began to feel warm and clammy like I was coming down with a fever, but I chocked it up to hypochondriasis.

  “So does that mean I have it?”

  “I don’t know. You didn’t have the mutation in your preliminary exams, but neither did the others. It mutated so quickly. They were talking about testing you when all hell broke loose.”

  “What was up with that anyway? How come the doctors thought Elliott was dead when he wasn’t?”

  “He was dead.”

  “He was? He didn’t look dead to me. I’d say he was pretty alive and hungry when he was having Dr. Feng for breakfast.”

  “I know, I know. That’s what was so strange. In the beginning he was breathing, but his oxygen levels kept dropping as if he wasn’t. His lungs weren’t even obstructed, but he was way past the point of not getting enough oxygen to his brain. The alarm finally went off because his heart stopped, but his oxygen levels had reached zero long before that.”

  “All right, so he visited the other side for a little bit. He fired back up pretty nicely after that. Same thing happens to drowning victims.”

  “I wish that were it. I took a look at his vitals after he attacked that first doctor. He didn’t have a pulse. He wasn’t breathing, either.”

  “Muscle spasms?” I was joking, but part of me hoped Alex would agree.

  “Did Janet and Barry look like they were having spasms? Or how about Elliott when he chased Dr. Feng down the hall?”

  “Is that why you were being such a coward in there?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t claim to be a particularly courageous person. The whole thing got under my skin.”

  “Well, if I start breaking out in sweats and sores you can just go ahead and take me out before I start biting.”

  “I’ll keep my fingers crossed that it doesn’t come to that,” Alex said as he walked into the other room. He stepped back into the doorway and pelted me with something. “Here, put this on.”

  I held what Alex had thrown at me. It was a navy blue jumpsuit that buttoned in the front. I reluctantly removed my hospital clothes and slid on the jumpsuit. Alex returned from the bedroom wearing the same.

  “Sweet, we’re twins!” I exclaimed sarcastically.

  “This is standard issue for civilians. We’ll be a lot less noticeable on the streets in these.”

  “Well, we’re ready to take out the trash.”

  “Come on, let’s go. I know a place where they won’t be looking for us.”

  13.

  Alex led me back across town to a high-rise residential tower directly across the street from the facility we had escaped that morning. He assured me his friend Celeste’s apartment was safe because she had told him they’d already searched the building for us, but we snuck in through a back entrance just to be safe.

  When he knocked on a fourth-floor door, an absolute beauty answered. Celeste was tall and lithe with wavy jet-black hair and bright blue eyes that sparkled when she smiled. Her roommate Carson was another story. Alex had attempted to prepare me for him, but no description was adequate. Years before, Carson had been labeled a dissenter by the Chinese for trying to organize a labor strike. His attempt to get a day off for US citizens earned him a trip to a reeducation camp, where they lobotomized him and tinkered with his brain until he returned a model Chinese citizen. The three of them had been friends forever, and Celeste roomed with Carson so that she could keep an eye on him.

  Carson was like an overzealous den mother offering us rice and asking all sorts of questions about where I’d come from and what my interests were. The four of us sat down for a bite and some tea, and I couldn’t resist picking his brain.

  “So what is it you do, Carson?”

  “Royce, I’m so glad you asked. I’m a supervisor at the waste management facility.”

  “What sort of supervising do you do there?”

  “I ensure the workers process the waste efficiently and accurately to support the great republic.”

  “Is that so? And processing trash is pretty important to the great republic, is it?”

  “Oh yes. A clean society is an effective society.”

  “You sound like a pretty big fan of this great republic.”

  “I love the republic above all else.”

  “And why is that?”

  “The great republic is creating peace and harmony throughout the world by integrating its cultures. The great republic provides for all the needs of its citizens. We have ample employment, shelter, and nourishment for our bodies. I am grateful to the great republic for everything it has given to me, and I dedicate my life to furthering its cause.”

  “Oh, that is just sick!”

  “Royce, please,” Alex begged.

  Alex may have been uncomfortable with my toying with Carson, but Celeste was working very hard to suppress her laughter.

  “I don’t feel sick,” Carson said. He was confused by the back and forth.

  “No, I’m sure you don’t, knucklehead.”

  “What’s a knucklehead?”

  “You’re a knucklehead.”

  “Oh that’s terrific. Thank you.”

  I left Carson alone after that for Alex’s sake. If it wasn’t for Alex helping me escape, I’d probably have been in a reeducation camp already. Though I still couldn’t figure out why Alex had helped me in the first place. He definitely didn’t seem the type to take it to the man, and our freedom was looking like it was going to be short lived. When we first came to Celeste and Carson’s building, I’d actually wondered if Alex had brought us there to turn me in, but the longer we hung out, the more it seemed like that wasn’t going to happen.

  14.

  The following morning after breakfast, Carson headed out to pick up their food rations for the week. I left Alex and Celeste at the table and stood at the window to watch the front of the building across the street. More soldiers had arrived and spread out in formation around the building. The street between our buildings was deserted as soldiers had blocked all vehicle traffic at both ends of the block. It was difficult to see in the few windows facing my direction, but there appeared to be a lot of movement happening behind them, maybe even some commotion.

  Celeste rose from the table and joined me at the window. She placed both hands on the sill and gazed down at the street below.

  “So where you from?” I asked.

  “All over, but I was living here in the city when the war started. You?”

  “California.”

  “So how did you end up out here?”

  “Um, that’s complicated. Didn’t Alex tell you?”

  “He said you’re
part of some kind of experiment they’re doing in the lab.”

  “That all?”

  “Wow, look at the ego on you. You’ll be surprised to know that we weren’t just sitting there talking about you.”

  Her comment stung a little, but it was hard to argue with her point. Since being reanimated, I had been pretty selfish. I was having a hard time accepting that this wasn’t some kind of game, that these were real people I was dealing with.

  “Ya, I guess I um . . . whoa! Look at that!”

  I pointed toward the entrance to the building across the street. Several wild-eyed soldiers were shuffling down the steps toward the soldiers standing in formation. The shuffling soldiers shared a similar gait, each man limping and dragging himself along as if someone had broken one of his ankles. The soldiers surrounding the building maintained their formation, with their backs to their approaching colleagues. When the first soldier from the building reached the formation, he grabbed one of the men by the shoulders and bit deeply into the side of his neck. The trailing members of the party followed suit, biting and tackling men in the formation to the ground.

  “Alex, Alex, get over here. You gotta see this!” I yelled.

  Alex ran over. His jaw dropped wide open.

  The attacking soldiers were decorated, and the rest of the formation had remained in their positions out of deference to authority. When one soldier couldn’t take it anymore, he turned and knelt to help a fallen comrade. A higher-ranking member ran over and yelled at him to get back into formation, but was promptly attacked by one of the carnivorous officers from the building. As soon as he went down, the rest of the soldiers broke formation, shots were fired, and all hell broke loose.

  We stood there silently absorbing the chaos descending upon the scene below. Medical personnel, workers in hazmat suits, and soldiers flooded out of the building. Some ran for their lives, while others stumbled out with that awkward, bloodthirsty stride that meant only one thing. That’s when I noticed Carson, his arms full of groceries, strolling down the sidewalk toward our building like everything was hunky dory across the street.

  “Oh no, look. It’s Carson.”

  Alex and Celeste followed my finger and saw him. They looked worried. The attacks had spread to our side of the street and up and down the block.

  “I’m going down there,” I said.

  I ran for the door and took the stairs down to the first floor. When I came out front, I couldn’t find Carson in the melee. A panicked tenant covered in blood pushed past me into the building. I crouched behind a car. Infected soldiers and doctors paced the street in front of me. A doctor in bloody white scrubs ambled in my direction. An automatic weapon stuck out of his back like a dorsal fin. The bayonet was lodged in his spine. He raised his nose in the air, turned toward me, and growled. I stumbled backward awkwardly, and he started moving in my direction.

  I crawled under the car. The doctor lay down and tried to come in after me. He snarled and screamed as he reached in after me, but the gun in his back pressed against the bumper and stopped him from crawling in any further. Seeing one of them up close was terrifying. His eyes were dull and vacant, and when he opened his mouth to growl, a putrid stench emerged from deep within his abdomen. The skin on his fingers was stripped down to the bone from clawing and scratching. Somehow he was moving and alive though his body had expired. Beyond the bayonet in his spine, he had massive bite wounds in his neck that left the severed arteries dangling like drooping flower stems. I thought about jamming my heel into his face, but I hesitated. Alive or dead, it didn’t feel right to smash somebody’s face in.

  Safely out of the doctor’s reach under the vehicle, I looked around for Carson. I spotted him near the entrance to his building. He was lying on his back with a doctor of his own on top of him. The doctor was biting and clawing at Carson who was flopping about like a fish. I pulled myself out from underneath the vehicle and ran over to help him. Carson’s groceries were pinned between him and the assailant, and they appeared to be keeping him alive. I grabbed the doctor by the shoulders and ripped him off Carson. The doctor flew back onto the pavement, then quickly turned in my direction and bared his teeth. I recognized him immediately. Dr. Feng.

  A burning hatred engulfed me. I’d never wanted to kill anyone, but after everything he’d done to me, seeing Dr. Feng attacking Carson made me want to end him. He may have been dead already. Who knew for certain? All that mattered was he was up and moving and hurting people and I was going to put a stop to it. I walked calmly over to the car I had been hiding under. The doctor impaled by the assault rifle was struggling to get to his feet. I put my foot on his back, grabbed the butt of the rifle, and pulled it out of him as I thrust him back onto the ground. I turned around and saw Dr. Feng was back on top of Carson, who now had his hands free and was struggling to hold Feng out of biting range. I walked up behind Feng and drove the bayonet into the back of his skull. The blade protruded between his eyes and stopped less than an inch from Carson’s cheek. Blood and cerebrospinal fluid dripped out the wound onto Carson’s face.

  I hadn’t anticipated the blade was going to come so close to Carson. I was overcome by emotion and acted without thinking. Feng’s limp body lay draped across Carson. I pulled the blade out and pushed him off with my foot. Carson looked terrified and confused. His jumpsuit was covered in blood and grains of rice. People were being attacked all around us, and the screaming increased. I helped Carson to his feet and retrieved what I could of the damaged rations. I couldn’t pick up much because I wasn’t letting go of the gun. I put Carson’s arm around my shoulder and walked him over to the building entrance. As we opened the front door, we caught the attention of an infected nurse and soldier. I pushed Carson inside, and he fell to the floor. I followed him in, dropped the groceries, and began searching for something to block the glass doors.

  I spotted a janitor’s closet in the lobby and pulled the door open. Two brooms leaned against some rusted shelving. I grabbed them and ran to the front door. I leaned my shoulder into the glass and wedged the brooms into the door handles as the infected pushed on the door from the other side. Their furor was drawing the attention of other infected who lumbered over and joined them against the glass. They moaned, growled, and pushed against the glass, stressing the strength of the broom’s ability to keep them out. I pushed the lobby desk against the doors while bloody hands smeared the other side of the glass. I helped Carson back up. As we headed to the elevator bank, a confused tenant approached the building from the outside. She screamed as the violent horde pounced upon her. They tore into her abdomen and devoured her flesh while we stood there on the other side of the glass waiting for the elevator.

  I felt terrible about blocking the doors. I just didn’t know what else to do.

  15.

  “Oh my God! Oh my God!” Celeste cried. “Are you two all right?”

  I lugged Carson into the apartment, then shut and locked the door behind us.

  “I’m fine,” I said, “but I don’t know about him.”

  Alex and Celeste helped me get Carson into his room. We laid him on his bed and stripped off his blood-soaked clothing. He was covered in bite marks and deep scratches. Carson didn’t say anything while we cleaned his wounds. Then he fell into a deep sleep, and we left him alone. The three of us went into the kitchen and salvaged what we could of the rations. There was rice, dried beef, and canned bok choy and cabbage.

  “What happened down there?” Celeste asked.

  “You couldn’t see?”

  “A little bit, but you were out of our line of sight most the time,” Alex explained.

  “It’s gotten ugly down there. Whatever my cryonic friends from the hospital had is spreading like mad. Carson got attacked, and you’re not going to believe who did it.”

  “Who?”

  “Dr. Feng.”

  “What did he attack him with?”

  “His teeth and nails.”

  “You mean he turned into one of those . . . o
ne of those things?”

  “Yes. When Elliott bit him, he must have passed the virus on to him. Pretty much all the doctors and nurses down there have it.”

  “This is not good,” Alex muttered under his breath.

  “That’s not the worst of it. Remember when we were trying to figure out if the infected cryonics were alive or dead?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, they’re definitely dead. I pulled that machine gun from the spine of one of Feng’s henchmen. He was walking around like it wasn’t even there, and his throat was ripped to shreds—arteries hanging out and everything. He was completely bled out.”

  “What are you two talking about?” Celeste asked. “Dead people don’t just get up and walk.”

  “We had vitals hooked up to these people, and they were completely flatlined, walking around the room attacking people like wild animals,” Alex explained.

  “And they’re trying to get into the building.”

  “They are?” Alex looked terrified. He ran over to the window and pressed his nose against the glass.

  “It’s OK. I mean, we should be OK. I blocked the front door pretty good.”

  We stood at the window. The crowd had thinned a bit, and bodies littered the street. Gunfire rattled from multiple directions.

  “What’s our next move, Al? Wait for the Chinese to come and clean up this mess?”

  “Yes, they’ll send in reinforcements and have this area quarantined by morning.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Celeste said.