by Michael Bray
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Draven & Kate
Underground Lab
The Pentagon
Washington DC, USA
They worked in silence, deciding it was better than discussing what had happened with Herman. They were surrounded by the reams of paperwork liberated by Herman as they looked for anything that might help them gain a head start on finding a way to stop the virus. The lights flickered on and off, and Kate gave them a nervous glance.
"That's the third time in half an hour."
"Relax, we're safe here. We're way below street level."
"Don’t you wonder what's going on up there?" she asked.
He looked up from the paper he was studying and saw how afraid she was. As a man not accustomed to the finer intricacies of the female psyche, he grunted and turned his attention back to his papers.
"Well?" she pressed.
"I know as much as you do," he said with a sigh, giving her his full attention. "It's safe to say it’s hell out there. We're in the safest place we could be."
"Sorry for speaking." she said and turned back to her console.
"I didn’t mean to snap at you. The stress is starting to take its toll."
"It's fine. I get it," she replied, glancing over his shoulder to the holding cell where Herman still sat on the floor as his cellmate shuffled his endless circles. "We're all feeling it a little.I just wondered if there was anyone else out there apart from the ex-wife and kids who you were wondering about."
Draven shrugged. "I don’t have any family, or at least, none that I speak to anymore."
She nodded, getting the impression these were skeletons which Draven didn’t particularly want to uncover. To her surprise, he carried on speaking.
"My mother left my father when I was just a boy. I don't remember her, and my father kept no pictures. She's like a ghost to me. I do sometimes wonder if she's still out there in the world, although if you're talking about emotional connection, then no, I have none."
"What about your father?"
"He passed away when I was eleven."
"I'm sorry."
"We knew it was coming. He was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. I was away from home a lot during that time studying at university, so I missed the symptoms. Worse was that he didn’t want to bother me when I was busy with my studies. By the time I noticed there was something wrong, the illness was in a quite advanced state. He fought it, of course. In the end, he took a tumble down the stairs when I was in China on an expedition." Draven swallowed, his eyes staring through the wall as he recalled the long-buried memories. "There was nobody there to help him. He'd broken his leg in the fall and he couldn’t get up, or drag himself to the phone to call for help. It was three weeks before the neighbours noticed the smell. By all accounts, he suffered a slow and painful death. Of course, nobody could find me to tell me, so it was another month before I found out. By the time I'd managed to get home, he was already buried. If there is one regret I have, it's not being able to remember the last thing I said to him followed by regret at not being able to say goodbye."
"That’s awful, I’m so sorry," Kate said.
"After dad died, I dived headlong into my work. In the end, after it killed my marriage too, I decided it was better if I just stayed on my own."
"That must be a lonely lifestyle."
"I'm used to it. I think I’m just one of those people who is destined to be alone."
"You never know what could happen, though. You might meet someone else."
"I try not to think about it. It's-"
The lights flickered again, followed by a dull rumble of a distant explosion.
"Are we under attack?" Kate whispered, hand going to her weapon.
"No, I don’t think so. It sounded distant. Away from the building."
"Another nuke?"
A vivid image came to Draven’s mind then. He saw Kate and himself heading upstairs to speak to the President, to find the building gone, blasted into oblivion by a nuclear explosion.
"No," he said, shaking his head. "We'd have felt a hell of a lot more if it was. Maybe it was a plane crash or something."
Kate nodded. "Strange how something which would be seen as a huge disaster a few days ago seems so trivial now."
"That's what happens when mankind gets thrown into the dark ages. Perspectives shift."
"What about-"
The lights flickered again and then went out. They sat in the dark, listening to the air conditioning unit power down. Draven was about to ask Kate if she thought there was a backup generator when the room became bathed in a dull red glow of the emergency lighting. It was then they both heard the dual click of the magnetic locks on the holding cells disengage. Draven's heart felt as if it had leaped into his throat. He was up and moving before he could think about it, charging across the room to the first cell. "Kate," he grunted, noting she was already following suit. He reached the cell just as its furious occupant slammed into the door. The steel frame hit Draven hard, winding him. He shoved with everything he had just as the muscular arm of the imprisoned soldier breached the gap, snatching, and clawing at Draven, who did everything he could to avoid the potentially lethal grasp.
Kate joined him, shoving against the door and jamming the prisoners arm. Infuriated, the captive screeched and grunted, pounding and slamming against the frame.
"Get some help in here!" Draven grunted through gritted teeth.
Kate lurched towards the lab door, shaking the handle. "I can’t get out, we must be on automatic lockdown."
Draven was about to reply when the door slammed against him. He almost toppled over, and somehow kept his balance and slammed his shoulder against the frame. "We need some help in here, now."
The prisoner now had his face wedged in the gap between door and frame, eyes wild, drool hanging from his chin as he snarled and snapped. He grabbed a handful of Draven’s shirt, tearing it from his shoulder.
"Don’t let him scratch you!" Kate screamed.
"We need more bodies in here!"
As he said it, the power came back on, bathing the room in its usual stark white lights. The power to Herman's cell came back online, the lock clicking into place. The split second distraction was all the prisoner needed. The door slammed open, knocking Draven to the ground. He looked up in time to see the snarling brute launching through the air towards him, teeth bared, eyes wild. He landed on Draven, knocking the wind out of him as he tried to bite at his throat. Kate grabbed him around the neck, but was shrugged off and sent sprawling across the tile floor. Draven’s mind raced with the information he had digested, all of which made him incredibly aware of the danger he was in. A single scratch or bite, even blood or drool entering his mouth would lead to inevitable infection. He grappled with his opponent, arms trembling under the strain as his much bigger adversary clawed and scratched.
Kate sat on the floor, frozen and unsure how to react. It was the first time she had witnessed the frenzy of these creatures up close. Part of her had always seen them as human, but now she could see only beast. A violent force of nature which was single minded in its thirst for destruction.
"Kate."
She turned to the voice, locking eyes with Herman as he stood at the glass, yellow veins standing out against his pale skin. "Let me out, let me help him."
She shook her head.
"Come on, I’m still me. I’m still in control. I can help. I’m strong enough to fight him."
She looked at Draven, who was still wrestling on the floor by the holding cell. Every instinct told her not to release Herman. She was aware from the research they had done that the infected were almost a singular entity, and would work together to achieve their goals. She feared that by letting him loose, he would attack her and help his fellow prisoner to finish off Draven.
"No," she said, drawing her weapon and pointing it at Draven’s attacker.
"Wait!" Herman screamed, banging on the glass. "You can’t do that."
"Why?" she grunted, adjusting her aim.
"The blood. It could get in his mouth."
She lowered her weapon, feeling helpless.
"Kate, let me out. I swear to you I’ll help him."
She stared at him through the glass. She saw no lie in his face, no evidence of deception. At the same time, she couldn’t ignore the prominence of the veins as they stood out on his cheeks and neck, the first signs of the transformation.
"Why should I trust you?"
"Because if I'd wanted to escape, I'd have done it when the power went down. Please, he doesn’t have much time."
Kate nodded, and before she could change her mind, unlocked the door. Herman stepped out and paused inches from her.
"Be ready to close the cell door," he said as he strode towards Draven. There was no hesitation, he grabbed Draven's attacker under the arms and lurched back, dragging him up and back into the holding cell. Kate sprinted to the door, slamming it closed and engaging the locking mechanism. She slumped to the floor, exhausted and shaken by the experience.
"Are you okay?" she said to Draven, who was still lying on the floor, breathing heavily.
He sat up, sitting against the opposite wall, eyes wide and filled with the same fear she could feel growing inside her.
"Whose blood is that," she asked.
"You already know the answer to that," he replied.
She crawled over to him, not sure her legs would be able to steady her. Draven’s chest and shoulder were covered with blood. On his shoulder blade she could see the bite, twin crescents which bled freely.
"I tried my best to hold him off," Draven said, his voice cracking. "He was strong."
"I'm sorry," she said as she slumped back to a sitting position. "If I'd have acted quicker..."
"Let’s not dwell on that right now. There's no point. I think we both know what needs to happen."
Draven got up, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. Blood, stark red against white tile dripped from his wounds as he walked to the glass to look at Herman. His perpetually angry cellmate was silent, perhaps sated by the taste of blood on his lips. Herman was pacing. He looked at Draven and grinned, and expression which melted when he saw the ugly wound on his shoulder.
"Oh man, please tell me that’s not what I think it is."
Draven nodded.
"Doc, I..."
"It's fine. I wanted to thank you for helping me. It means a lot."
"If only things had worked out better for us both," Herman said. Then he approached the thick glass, his voice sounding flat and listless as it was relayed by the microphones built into the cell.
"Doc, I want you to do something for me. A final request."
"What do you need?"
"This virus. As much as I’m doing my best to fight it, I can feel it starting to take over. I don’t want to be like him." Herman jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "I always said I wanted to be in control of my own fate. I can’t do that now, so I’m asking you to do it for me."
"No," Kate said, joining Draven at the glass.
"Come on, it's obvious by now it’s dangerous to keep his kind... our kind alive. What happens next time the power goes out? What if my cellmate here gets out and decides to chew on the President?"
"That won’t happen," Kate said, blinking back tears. "We can..."
"He's right," Draven said, trying to ignore the agony in his shoulder. "We can’t risk this happening again."
"We can’t just give up on him."
"Come on Kate, this is bigger than any of us. We have to respect his wishes."
"But we-"
"It's okay," Herman said, even managing a smile. "This is what I want."
"Well I can’t watch," she said, striding away from the holding cell.
Draven and Herman stood, separated by a few inches of reinforced glass. "Who would have thought it would come to this, eh doc?"
"Yeah," Draven said, looking down at the floor. "I'm sorry I got you into all this."
"I was already involved. You don’t owe me any apologies, man."
"You just let me know when you're ready. You know, to...go."
"I’m ready now, Doc. I don’t want to experience this anymore. I don’t want to become one of these monsters."
"You realise what will happen to you don’t you? When I purge the cell."
"Yeah, I read the reports earlier. I know what's coming."
"It will be agonising."
"I don’t feel anything anymore doc. That part of me is already changed. Please, just do it before my mind goes too."
Draven nodded, struggling to hold back his own emotion. He clenched his teeth and approached the control panel on the front of the cell. Above the speaker panel was a red handle inside a glass door. Printed in white above the panel was a single word.
PURGE
Draven opened the door and grasped the handle.
"Hey Doc," Herman said as he stood in the centre of the cell.
"Yeah?"
"Tell Kate I said thanks for trusting me. She'll know what it means." Herman folded his arms. "Okay doc, I’m ready."
"I'll see you soon, Herman," Draven said, then pulled the handle before he lost his nerve.
A siren started on top of the cell, a red domed light rotating in warning. Inside, a series of gas fuelled nozzles erupted to life filling the space with flames and ensuring every inch of the cell was purged. There were no screams. Draven was thankful that he could no longer see his friend amid the inferno, and could only stare into the fire as the heavy steel doors slid into place over the glass, locking in the fire which would reduce both inhabitants of the cell to nothing. Draven turned to Kate, looking at her across the room. No words were shared. He could see her cheeks streaked with tears.
"You know the drill," he said as he walked to the second cell. "Lock it as soon as I’m inside. I’ll stay with you as long as I can be helpful. With luck, I’ll still be able to assist when Subject A arrives. Until then, better to be safe."
He unlocked the cell door, striding into the space which Herman had earlier shared with the shambling dead thing. Numb and unable to comprehend what was happening, Kate followed him and activated the locking mechanism watching the door slide into place. She watched through the glass, hoping against hope that Draven might not be infected. Like Herman before him, Draven waited for his rotting cellmate to approach and assess him. The dead thing leaned close. Draven made no effort to fight. The dead thing sniffed, its face inches from Draven’s, then it backed away and continued to circle the cell. It was all Kate could take. She strode away, tears blurring her vision as she pounded on the lab door and screamed for someone to let her out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Alan & Captives
Prison Camp 124
Location unknown
Alan had withdrawn further into himself. He went about his tasks, which used to horrify him so much, with a distant indifference to them. It was like they were being performed by someone else. The dead no longer concerned him, nor did his own well-being or mortality. All that mattered was the barn. He had kept a close eye on it during the course of his daily duties, just as Mike and Alan had watched him. He knew they were distancing themselves from him, and he didn’t blame them. It would be better for them not to be associated with him any longer. He had accepted the idea of his own coming death with much more calm than he might have expected. He supposed with so much already lost, he didn’t much care what happened as long as he did what he needed to do. Even another gruelling eighteen hour day of transporting the dead to the pit couldn’t dampen his excitement or determination. He operated on autopilot, almost able to forget where he was and what he was doing, to forget how much pain he was in, both physically and mentally. He could almost even forget that whilst he worked, his wife was probably enduring unimaginable horrors at the hands of their vile captors. With the day now done, he ensured he was one of the first to get back to the cabin so he could get prime position closest to the door. Without a word, he l
ay on his side facing the wall and closed his eyes. As exhausted as his body was, he wouldn’t allow sleep to take him. Instead, he listened to the sound of his weary fellow captives shuffle into the cabin ready to be roll called and then taken to get their meagre supply of bread and water. His plan was flimsy and there was a good chance it wouldn’t even work, however with no other options, he was desperate enough to try. Finally, after what seemed like an age, roll call came. As always, two of Lucas's men came to count heads before they were taken to gather their rations. There were always a few who didn’t go, and they were the ones who invariably didn’t last much longer.
"Hey man," Andy said, shaking his shoulder. "Come on, you need to get something to eat."
Alan didn’t answer, nor did he look at the closest thing to a friend he had. It pained him to do it, but he feared if he did, Andy would see what he intended to do.
"Hey, come on, try to eat something."
"Leave him." One of the guards snapped. "His loss if he doesn’t eat."
Andy did as he was told, and joined the others as they were led out of the cabin. Alan waited until they were gone, and sat up, looking around the room. Other than him, there were around six other people who had declined to go for food, and he was grateful none of them were paying any attention to him. As casually as he dared, he stood and slipped out of the door before he lost his nerve.
II
The orange glow of dusk lit the work yard, which was heavy with shadows. Up the hill, the farmhouse where Lucas and his men spent their nights was ablaze with light which spilled from the windows. The dull thump of music rolled towards where he stood in the shadow of the cabin, his eyes now focused on the barn. His plan was as insane as it was simple. His intention was to walk straight to the barn and hope nobody stopped him. If they did, he planned to tell them he had been sent there on an errand. He was aware such action was dangerous, and could result in a swift and painful end to his life without him ever finding out if his wife was safe. Something came to him then as he stood there, a crippling and absolute fear. He knew he was relatively safe in the shadows, and to step out into the relative light of dusk would mean there was no turning back. He tried to remember his children and yet he was so exhausted, so drained that he couldn’t recall their faces. He didn’t even think he would be able to move, and would be found when the others returned from getting their meagre rations, cowering in the darkness and unable to explain why he was outside. It was the thought of what was happening to his wife which spurred him into action. He hurried across the yard, hands in the pockets of his dirty jeans, trying to look both casual and invisible at the same time. Ahead, the barn loomed large, a golden letter 'I' spilling out of the gap where the doors met. He kept away from the farmhouse, conscious of the fact he could hear Lucas and his men laughing and talking as they feasted and drank. The consequences of them finding him didn’t bear thinking about. It was all or nothing. Live or die. He skirted around the periphery of the light spilling from the farmhouse, keeping close to the shadows and unable to believe his luck that nobody had been outside to catch him. He knew all it would take would be a guard stepping outside to smoke a cigarette and he would be done for. He supposed he ought to thank the arrogance of Lucas and his men. So certain were they of their rule based on fear, they didn’t accept the notion one of them might dare disobey orders.