Deadlocked 7

by A. R. Wise

  “Okay,” said Jeff. “Hurry. I don’t know how much longer we’ve got before he turns off the power.”

  Hero raced through the dark corridors, now lit with only a dim red glow. Beatrice was crying out for help the entire time, and Hero yelled to her that he was coming before running into the lab. He skid to a stop when he saw the horrific scene within.

  William was on the floor, a knife lodged deep in his jugular. There was blood everywhere, brilliant red against the white floor. William’s face was pale and his eyes were open, staring at the ceiling as Beatrice knelt over him. Her hands and arms were soaked with blood as she cried out, helpless as she looked down at the corpse.

  “What the fuck did you do?” asked Hero.

  “Me?” asked Beatrice. “I didn’t do anything. I swear. I would never…”

  “Bullshit, you psycho! What happened?”

  “He was working on the cure, and he said he’d finished.” She was sobbing as she wiped blood off on her blouse. “He said he was happy that he was able to save you, and then he apologized. I didn’t know what he was doing when he threw my tablet against the wall and then picked up that knife off the counter. He said he couldn’t live with himself anymore. He said meeting you made him realize how wrong he was to be a part of The Electorate’s plan in the first place. I swear. I tried to stop him, but he just…” She put her hands over her face and broke into a fit of sobs, William’s blood smearing on her face as she wept.

  Hero didn’t know what to do as he gazed at the horrible scene.

  Beatrice looked at him, her face covered in the scientist’s blood now. “You do believe me, right?”

  “I don’t know what I believe.”

  “Watch the video,” said Beatrice as she pointed to a security camera in the room. “Go watch the video and you’ll see that I’m telling the truth.”

  “We had to turn off all the security feeds except for upstairs,” said Hero.

  “Oh,” said Beatrice. “Well, you’re just going to have to trust me. I’m a lot of things, but I’m no murderer.”

  “Except for the slaughter of six and a half billion people,” said Hero.

  “Think whatever you want,” said Beatrice like a petulant teen. “I know what happened. He made a cure for you, and even showed me how it was reacting properly with the microscope. You can see for yourself. He labeled the slides. Put the one that says ‘Hero – Infected’ under the microscope and you can see the black dots attached to the cells. Go ahead. Then compare it to the one that says ‘Hero – V Three’ and you can see for yourself. Usually viruses are too small to see, but this strain clumps together. You can see tiny black dots, or almost like little whiskers around the cell wall.”

  Hero kept his eyes on her as he moved to the large microscope. “Stay there,” he said as she started to walk toward him. “Keep your boney ass right where it is.”

  “I’m standing in a pool of blood,” she said as she looked down.

  “Good, that’s where you belong. Stay there.” He picked up the sample of his infected blood pressed between two slides of glass and put it under the microscope. He inspected the cells, unsure what he was looking for. He saw the miniscule black specks on the outer rim of the cells and then switched the slide out for the supposedly cured one. In the second slide, the black specks had come detached from the cellular walls and were floating independently between.

  “See,” said Beatrice. “All you have to do is inject yourself with that needle on the counter and you’ll be cured. You have to at least be happy about that, right? After all, if there’s anyone down here I’d like to see dead, it’s certainly not poor old William. I’d much rather kill you off, you daft bastard.”

  “The feeling’s mutual,” said Hero as he picked up the syringe. “This is the cure?”

  “Yes,” said Beatrice, still standing in the pool of William’s blood.

  He shook his head. “I fucking hate needles. And if anything weird starts to happen, or I feel like I’m going to pass out, or get sick after I inject this, I’m going to run over there and start biting the shit out of you. I don’t even care if I’m a zombie or not, I’m just going to bite your ass to death because I hate you.”

  “Want me to inject it into you? You have to get it into the vein. I can do it if you want.”

  “I won’t have trouble,” said Hero as he took off the syringe’s cap and squeezed the plunger until the air bubble was pushed out. “I’ve done this more times than I’d like to admit.”

  “I thought you hated needles,” said Beatrice.

  “I do,” said Hero as he tapped the vein of his right arm. “Not because they hurt, but because I came damn close to getting sucked into a life where all I did was stick myself with needles. If it weren’t for my brother, I would’ve been a junky just like my mother.”

  Beatrice watched as he stuck the needle in.

  “Where’s your brother now?”

  “He died,” said Hero as he finished with the injection. “Thanks to you.”

  She didn’t have a response.

  Hero tossed the empty syringe onto the table top beside the microscope. “But you were never able to take him from me completely. Mark will always be with me. I’m reminded of it every time I look in the mirror and see this,” he pointed to the tattoo of a pistol on his neck.

  “Why? Were you both gun nuts?” asked Beatrice, unable to keep her question from sounding snide.

  “Nope, the exact opposite,” said Hero. He leaned his head to the side so the tattoo was easier to see and then used his finger to follow the barrel. It pointed to the back of his neck. “Mark was paralyzed by a drug dealer that shot up our house. I got this tattoo so I could show him I felt his pain. When he got shot, it was like I got scarred too. Every time I see this tattoo, I think of how fucking tough that kid was.”

  “Well,” said Beatrice, her tone softer now. “I guess I owe you an apology. I just assumed you had it as a gang tattoo or something like that.”

  “Yeah well, you know what they say: Assumptions make you stink like an asshole.”

  Beatrice smirked and squint her eyes, aware that Hero was joking but commenting anyhow. “I’m pretty sure that’s not how the saying goes.”

  “Whatever,” said Hero. “You know, my wife thought the same thing about my tattoo. When we first met, she assumed I was a thug too. When I finally told her what this tattoo really meant, she apologized. After that was when she finally gave me a chance, and a few years later we got married.” Hero smiled at the memory and then saw Beatrice’s computer on the table. “Jerald has one of those. He said it’s an older version and that you’d know why that was important. Any clue what he means?”

  Beatrice’s eyes grew wide and the color faded from her cheeks. “Oh my God.”

  “What? Why does that matter?” asked Hero.

  “If he has what I think he has, then we have to get out of here. Now.”

  “Why?” asked Hero.

  “Only a few members of The Electorate were given the original tablets. They were connected to all of the facilities, but those were destroyed when it was discovered that there was a group of defectors inside of The Electorate. He can’t have one of the originals. He must be bluffing.”

  “And if he’s not?” asked Hero.

  “Then he could activate the purging of this facility any time he wanted to. He would have control of everything in this place, even the intercom.”

  “That’s right,” said Jerald’s voice through the intercom before he started laughing.

  Hero rolled his eyes and sighed. He shook his head and muttered as if he’d become a tired old man, “Fuck.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six – Enemy’s Hands

  Two years after the apocalypse

  Billy is escaping the Nederland facility with Reagan’s help.

  “Stay here,” said Reagan. “There’re a few soldiers patrolling the hall past the next door. Just stay where you are for now.”

  Billy tried to look like he belonged
there as he leaned against the wall, his legs crossed as he held the camera that Reagan was speaking through. The soldier he had killed was a few sizes larger than Billy, and his clothes barely fit. Billy had rolled the sleeves and pant legs to make them more comfortable, but he still looked ridiculous.

  “How do we know you’re the only one watching the security cameras?” asked Billy.

  “We don’t,” said Reagan. “The ones in the cells are shut down. We’ll just have to hope that you can pull off looking like a soldier – God help us.”

  “I don’t look so bad,” said Billy.

  “You look like a baby in his Daddy’s jacket.”

  “What can I say? That guy was like a giant.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” said Reagan. “Okay, go ahead. Follow that hall to the third door on the right. Hero’s in there. There’s a guard in there with him, so you’re either going to have to convince him you’re there to relieve him, or put a bullet in his head. One or the other.”

  Billy walked down the hall, conscious of the cameras that watched him.

  “You’re going to want to hurry,” said Reagan.

  “I thought you wanted me to look inconspicuous,” said Billy.

  “I don’t think it’s going to matter in a minute.”

  “Why?” asked Billy.

  “Because a soldier just went into your room,” said Reagan. Then a shrill alarm went off as the lights in the hall turned red and began flashing. “Okay, time to run.”

  “Oh shit, shit, shit,” said Billy as he moved to Hero’s door. He knocked and then opened it. “Hey there,” he said as he waved to the startled soldier inside. “How’s the big black pain in the ass?”

  “What?” asked the soldier.

  “Hey, I’ve got one of those,” said Billy as he pointed to the camera on the small table just inside of the room. It was the same as the one he was carrying, that was connected to Reagan.

  “Yeah, so?” asked the soldier, but when he looked back up Billy was already pointing his gun at him.

  “Put your hands up,” said Billy.

  The soldier went for his gun. Billy had no choice but to shoot. The guard was dead instantly, a large chunk of his bloodied hair now splattered on the wall in front of Hero.

  “Billy?” asked Hero as he hung with his back to the door.

  “It’s your knight in shining armor,” said Billy.

  “Holy shit,” said Hero. “How did you get out?”

  “I’m a badass,” said Billy. “Didn’t you know that already?”

  “Quit bragging and get me down. I feel like a damn side of beef up here.”

  “You guys need to hurry,” said Reagan.

  “What the fuck?” asked Hero. “Where’s he at?”

  “He’s watching us through the security cameras,” said Billy.

  “So that creepy old bastard’s been staring at my ass since I got in here?” asked Hero. “How’s the full moon treating you?”

  Billy laughed as he started to turn the gear that lowered Hero’s chains. “I said the same thing.”

  They could hear someone pounding on a door from somewhere in the hall outside of the cell.

  “I’m serious, guys,” said Reagan. “You need to move, now.”

  “At least let me put some damn pants on,” said Hero as Billy searched the dead guard for the keys to Hero’s chains. “If I try to run out of here with my dick loose, flapping all over the place, I’m liable to knock us both out with it.”

  “Here,” said Billy as he found the keys. “Okay, let’s get the clothes off this guy for you to wear.”

  They could hear Reagan clattering around in the room he was locked in.

  “What are you doing in there?” asked Billy.

  “They’ve got some chemicals in here,” said Reagan. “I’m trying to find something that we can use to light a fire.”

  “The old man’s pyromaniac now,” said Hero.

  “Hurry up and get those clothes on,” said Billy. “Reagan, tell us how to get to where they’re holding you.”

  “I will,” said Reagan, although Billy couldn’t see him on the screen anymore. “Just get out of that room and head to the right.”

  “Look at this shit, man,” said Hero as he put the soldier’s shirt on. It was woefully small on him. “I can’t even button it up.”

  Billy ignored him as he stood beside the door, his gun in one hand and the camera in the other. “Are they outside this door?”

  Reagan picked his tablet back up and started to fiddle with it. “No, not yet. It won’t take them long to get there though. They found the other guy’s body, so I’m sure they’ll be headed your way next.”

  “Man, this is bullshit,” said Hero.

  Billy looked back at his friend and saw that the pants didn’t fit any better than the shirt. The waistband was half a foot lower than Hero’s waist, revealing most of the tight boxers he’d stolen from the soldier.

  “What?” asked Billy. “Isn’t that how black guys like to wear their pants?”

  “Mother fucker,” said Hero. “Look who’s got jokes. I didn’t know this was racist comedy hour. Give me your clothes. You’re practically swimming in them.”

  “No time,” said Billy. “Come on.”

  “God damn it,” said Hero as Billy opened the door and went into the hall.

  “To the right?” asked Billy.

  “Yes,” said Reagan, although he was far from the computer now. It sounded like there were other voices in the room with him, muffled but distinctive. Then Billy heard banging.

  “You okay in there?” asked Hero.

  “Fine,” said Reagan. “Just get moving! This place is full of soldiers and they’re all looking for you.”

  “Are there soldiers outside your door or something?” asked Billy. “Should we be ready to shoot them?”

  An intercom echoed through the halls, “Red alert. Red alert. We need men at the lab immediately. Any soldiers near the lab need to report there immediately.”

  “Is that where we’re headed?” asked Hero.

  “You’re going to be fine,” said Reagan. “Just hurry up and get here. Go straight down the hall until you see a red arrow painted on the floor. Follow the arrows. They’ll lead you right to me.”

  “Really?” asked Hero.

  “Wait a fucking second,” said Billy as they ran down the corridor, following the arrows to a set of double doors.

  Hero opened the doors, revealing daylight.

  * * *

  August 24th, 20 years after the apocalypse

  Jerald is waiting for Hero, Beatrice, and Jeff to walk out of the facility.

  The false wall that hid the transfer facility opened, revealing the hallway within. Hero stood beside Beatrice Dell, and the soldier that had defected from Jerald’s group was standing behind them. They all had their hands on their heads, just like they were told to do.

  Jerald clapped as they walked out. “Congratulations, you’re not going to burn to death. That’s got to make you happy.” He pointed to the soldier that had defected to join them. “Jeff, come here.”

  “Leave him alone,” said Hero.

  Jerald glanced at the tall black man and winced, as if the man’s words had the ability to strike him. “I’d hush up if I were you, fellow. I’ll get to you in a minute. You see, I don’t really give a shit about either of you guys. I just need the old bitch.”

  “You need him as well,” said Beatrice as she nodded in Hero’s direction.

  “Do I?” asked Jerald. “And why is that?” Then he pointed at Jeff and beckoned him over. “I still want you over here, Jeff.”

  “You need him because he has the cure in him,” said Beatrice. “Show him your leg, Levon.”

  Hero slowly knelt down to lift his pant leg and reveal the fresh bite.

  “He was bit by the zombies in this facility that were infected with the new virus, but he’s cured now. We had the formula, and were able to save him. You can check his blood for yourself if you want. The v
irus is dying off inside of him right now. And, not only that, but he was one of the men that spent time with Reagan. He’s your best chance of developing the cure you’ve been looking for.”

  “Really?” asked Jerald with his brow raised. His pock marked face, replete with wrinkles from a long, hard life, looked pleasantly surprised. “Is that true?”

  “Yes,” said Hero. “You’re going to want to keep me alive and happy, you piece of shit.”

  “Alive, yes. Happy?” Jerald wavered his hand as he walked over to stand in front of Hero. “Not so much.”

  Hero moved too fast for Jerald to defend himself. The strong black man hit Jerald so hard that the old man staggered back and fell against the kitchen counter. The members of the Wolf Pack in the room tensed, ready to react if Jerald wanted them to.

  “See, you’re already making me happy,” said Hero.

  Jerald touched his bloodied lip and then laughed. “Well, look at you.” He took his pistol out of his holster and shot Jeff in the head. The attack was so sudden and unexpected that Beatrice yelled in shock and Hero staggered backward. Jeff fell dead as Jerald laughed.

  Jerald looked at Hero and then his expression softened. “Oh, what’s wrong? Did you like him? Did I make you sad again? I guess that’s nothing compared to what’s coming next. Because if she’s right, and we can duplicate the results, then I don’t need to protect your precious Rollers anymore.”

  “You want to pretend you’ve been protecting them?” asked Hero. “After what you just showed me?”

  “The only reason you’re all still alive is thanks to me,” said Jerald. “I was trying to keep you a secret from her,” he motioned to Beatrice. “They’re the ones that wanted you dead. For me, you were an insurance policy. I would’ve liked to capture you sooner, but you’re not easy to track down. Not that I didn’t do my best. I’ve got satellite photos of all your campsites. I could’ve crushed you any time I wanted by just ordering an airstrike.”

  “You’re lying,” said Hero.

  Jerald laughed as he paced in front of them. “Me? No, sir. I’m sure you’ve been down there getting lied to by our resident cunt here, but you need to recognize the truth when you hear it. Beatrice and the others working with her have been planning a new apocalypse. In fact, the first groups that were sent here were supposed to set up towns, and then hide containment units under them with corpses infected with a new virus. That was until they discovered Reagan was here, and possibly even the girl that had been experimented on by one of their scientists. Then the game changed, because they couldn’t risk putting survivors here, where they might get infected, so to speak, by the cure.”