Degeneration

by Mark Campbell

  The infected emerged from around the bus while another larger group closed in from in-between the tanks and Humvees from the other direction; the whole city seemed to be converging on one spot.

  “Look up!” Mathis pointed towards the roof and ran towards the bar as the infected closed in.

  Richard followed after him. He glanced up at the roof and spotted the tail of a black apache helicopter, barely visible, peaking off the edge of the roof.

  Mathis and Richard ran into the building and slammed the steel-reinforced doors shut behind them.

  Waves of infected bodies hammered against the doors and caused the doors to fling–

  Mathis quickly shoved the steel doors shut once again and slid the locking bar into place.

  Infected slammed against the doors and the battered on the steel shutters covering the windows, surrounding the building on all sides.

  Mathis leaned against the doors and closed his eyes, breathing frantically. Condensation coated his facemask and sweat made his urine-soaked uniform cling against his flushed skin underneath his white-suit.

  Richard stared at the door and backed away from it, trembling. He slowly turned and surveyed the dark, dismal bar.

  The pub tables and bar stools were stacked against the rear wall and covered under a plastic tarp. All of the wine and beer behind the bar had been liberated. Rifles and pistols lay scattered everywhere. The entire room was filled with toppled army cots and thick with flies. The foul stench of rot mixed with defecation hung in the air.

  Mathis unslung his rifle, dropped it to the floor, and picked up a fresh rifle off of the floor. He ejected the magazine and was satisfied to see that it was full. Holding the rifle with one hand, he knelt down and removed the magazines from two other two rifles and slid them into the cargo pockets on his white-suit.

  We need a gun too. Think, before you give him the upper-hand again!

  “We need a gun, too,” Richard obediently said.

  Mathis spun towards Richard and glared at him through his foggy facemask.

  “Who’s ‘we’? You mean me and you? That’s not happening.”

  “I can help hold them back. I can shoot.”

  Mathis hesitated a moment. He didn’t like the idea of giving someone he didn’t trust a weapon, but he was dangerously low on backup at the moment. He looked down and spotted a pistol lying on the floor in a dried pool of blood. He picked it up and handed it to Richard.

  Richard took the pistol. The weight of it felt good in his hand.

  “Are you familiar with them?” Mathis asked.

  “I’ve had experience,” Richard muttered. He checked the clip and saw that it was nearly full. He slid the clip back into the gun, switched off the safety, and chambered a round.

  Mathis watched him with hesitant suspicion.

  “What did you do, before this? Were you a security guard or something?” Mathis asked, watching Richard handle the gun. “How did you survive inside that overran hospital all by yourself?”

  You weren’t by yourself.

  Richard hadn’t been alone for a very long time.

  “I just… remembered what my brother showed me,” Richard said. “He was good at it.”

  Don’t lie. I never showed you how to kill. You were just a natural.

  You owe me.

  You owe me Butner.

  I went through a lot for you. The least you can do is save me.

  Before Mathis could respond, the kitchen door behind the bar swung open and four infected soldiers bolted into the room. They leapt over the bar and sent empty bottles shattering against the floor.

  Mathis switched the rifle’s firing mode to ‘full-auto’ and held down the trigger, stepping backwards, sweeping the rifle side-to-side.

  Automatic gunfire swept across the besieging soldiers, ripping through their chest and abdomen.

  The soldiers jolted with each bullet but continued unabated.

  Mathis ejected the empty cartridge from the rifle and slapped in a fully-loaded one.

  Richard thrust the pistol out and fired four rounds in rapid succession, closing his eyes, terrified.

  The rounds went errant and didn’t hit a target.

  Mathis glanced over at Richard for a fleeting second and saw how shaken and novice the man was a gun. He was not surprised.

  Mathis focused back on the targets and fired another burst of automatic fire and swept the rifle across the soldiers, higher.

  The rounds struck through the heads of two of the soldiers and blew out the back of their skulls. They both collapsed against the floor.

  The remaining two bounded over the corpses of their fallen brethren and continued sprinting.

  Focus, Richie!

  Richard opened his eyes at the sound of Andy’s voice, held his breath, and sighted-in on one of the soldiers.

  The forehead of the first soldier caved-in and a geyser of blood and bone erupted out the back of his head as it snapped back. He tumbled to the ground.

  Richard sighted-in on the second soldier and fired.

  The soldier’s head snapped backwards and he flung backwards against the ground.

  Mathis looked over at Richard, mouth agape. He felt as if he was looking at a different person all of a sudden.

  Richard lowered the gun, slowly letting out his bated breath.

  There’s the killer I know…

  Mathis studied Richard, trying to figure out what sort of man casually goes from one extreme to another in the blink of an eye. In truth, Richard frightened him, but a good shooter was definitely hard to come by at the moment.

  After a few seconds, Mathis walked towards the kitchen door.

  “Come on,” he said, “we have to get to the roof and get on that helicopter.”

  “And fly where?”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Richard.”

  “Richard, we have more pressing issues at the moment,” he said as he checked his suit’s oxygen canister; it was running dangerously low. “There is a communications center in the break room behind the kitchen. Hopefully, the equipment is still operational and we can let the Air Force know not to shoot us down.”

  “And then what?” Richard asked.

  “There is a roof access hatch in there as well,” he said, checking the ammo in his rifle. “We’ll get to the helicopter and we’ll fly out of the quarantine.”

  “What about Butner?” Richard quickly asked.

  “Butner? There’s no point in that,” Mathis said casually. “It’s inside the hot zone.”

  He reached for the kitchen door.

  Richard grabbed Mathis by the shoulder and spun him around towards him.

  “I already told you that my brother is there. I need to get him out!” Richard yelled.

  Mathis brushed Richard’s hand off of his shoulder.

  “The National Guard refugee center is overrun,” Mathis said.

  Richard shook his head side-to-side animatedly.

  “No! He is safe! He is locked away in the federal prison! The infection couldn’t have gotten into the prison!”

  “How did you come to that estimation? It was probably brought inside by sick guards. Jesus... you really have no idea, do you?” he said with a tone of disbelief.

  “About what?” Richard asked, glaring.

  Mathis gave an exasperated sigh.

  “You have absolutely no idea about the scope of this infection. Panic started setting in across the state well before the virus even escaped the downtown quarantine.

  “Charlotte was engulfed by rioting and civil unrest. Wilmington was a ghost town. Frightened Ashville citizens took up arms. The Air Force firebombed two interstates and shot down four commercial planes that broke the no-fly zone over Raleigh-Durham International! The Navy sunk ships trying to leave the coast! Hell, they’re using napalm mixed with thermite to corral half of the state with flames.

  “They’re going to keep the quarantine in place until those things die off on their own in a few days. After t
hat they’ll keep the area sealed for months as a precaution. Then FEMA will march in and collect the dead and bury the evidence of what happened here. Don’t you understand? This state is one mass graveyard.”

  Don’t listen to him. Stay calm, Richie.

  Richard started to pace and bit his bottom lip.

  Mathis glanced down at the pistol in Richard’s hand and hesitated.

  “I’m sorry,” Mathis finally said in a pitiful attempt at pacification.

  He’s just trying to discourage you. He wants you to obey him and go where he wants you to go. Just play along.

  Despite what Mathis said, Richard still planned on getting to Butner, one way or the other. He was not going to leave without saving Andy from that hell, if he was still alive…

  I’m not dead, yet. I am still inside my cell. Those fucking guards left me to die. You just need to get here before you get sick. For now, just stay fucking calm until I think of something.

  Richard stopped pacing and turned towards Mathis.

  “Why didn’t you just stay hidden and wait it out!? If they’re going to die off in a few days, why bother dragging me out in the middle of it? You could have waited until FEMA came around, right?”

  “I didn’t have the luxury of waiting a few days,” Mathis said, pointing down towards the oxygen canister on his suit. “I’m low.”

  “If I’m immune to this like you think I am then I don’t need you. You’ll just slow me down. I don’t need a special suit to breath. Go your own way, and I’ll go to Butner.”

  Mathis stared at Richard a moment and then laughed.

  Richard flushed with anger and his grip tightened on the pistol’s grip.

  “Do you honestly think that you’d make it out of here alive without me?”

  “I was doing okay before you showed up.”

  “You got bit.”

  “But I’m still standing,” Richard quickly replied. “I haven’t been hacking. Looks like I may be immune to them after all.”

  Mathis wiped the condensation off of his facemask and stared at Richard. He knew that the man was simply grandstanding trying to get his way.

  The sound that the infected made as they banged against the shuttered windows and slammed against the doors was deafening.

  “Okay, since we’re surrounded and you can’t go on foot, what are you going to do? Shoot me and take a helicopter you don’t even know how to fly?” Mathis asked.

  Richard said nothing.

  “Exactly, so shut the fuck up, and follow me,” he said as he motioned for Richard to follow him into the kitchen, “We’re doing this my way. Forget Butner.”

  Patience, brother, patience.

  Richard gripped his pistol tightly and followed.

  Dirtied pots and pans lay scattered throughout the narrow kitchen. On the right side, about half-way down, there was a large freezer with its door shut. At the far end of the kitchen a door was labeled ‘Staff Lounge’ and cracked open an inch. Bright light spilled out from behind the cracked door and glistened off of the spent brass shells that lay scattered across the grimy floor.

  “The coms center is just behind that door,” Mathis said as he pointed the barrel of his rifle towards the break room. He hurried towards the room and sent brass shells skittering aside with each step.

  Richard followed, gripping the pistol tightly.

  Mathis swung the break room door open and bathed the dim kitchen with sunlight. He squinted and stared into the room with dismay.

  Military communication equipment lay scattered and computer desks were overturned. A soldier wearing a radio headset lay motionless in the center of the room, riddled with bullet wounds; flies hovered around the corpse and danced across its clammy skin. The roof hatch in the ceiling hung open and allowed dusk’s orange light to pour into the room. The rungs of the ladder leading up to the roof were soiled by dry blood.

  Overhead, a squadron of fighter jets passed on their way out of downtown and sent dust fluttering down from the roof hatch.

  Mathis entered the room and walked over to a battery-operated civilian radio that lay next to a toppled desk. He reached down and turned it on just as Richard entered the room behind him.

  “–at once. Please make your way an operating FEMA shelter immediately. The nearest operational FEMA centers in this listening area is: Crabtree Valley Mall and Brier Creek Shopping Center. Follow all official instructions. Avoid the interstate. If you are sick, stay at home and isolate yourself from others. Do not report to a hospital. Avoid any individual who appears to be sick and report them immediately–”

  “Is that an actual–” Richard began.

  Mathis shushed him and turned the volume up.

  “–seek safe shelter. Do not panic. Help is on the way. This message will loop until the situation is resolved and will be periodically updated. Please stay tuned for additional information. This is the North Carolina Emergency Broadcast System with an urgent message. This is not a test. A biological attack has occurred in the listening vicinity. Seek safe shelter at once. Please make your way to–”

  “A recording,” Mathis muttered. “It’s the same one FEMA had cycling across all local FM bands.” He flipped through the channels and found nothing but the same recorded message being played. He threw the radio down in frustration.

  He quickly scanned the room but all of the military-band equipment had been thrashed. He shook his head and scaled the ladder up onto the roof.

  Richard slid the pistol under his waistband and followed.

  The roof of the bar was littered with empty ammo boxes and boxes of food rations, evidence of somebody’s last stand. In the center of the roof sat the helicopter.

  Mathis watched the fighter jets fade into the setting sun.

  “We don’t have to worry about the Air Force for a little while. They’re pulling back to refuel or something. We’ve been afforded a window of opportunity so we better not waste it,” Mathis said.

  He ran towards the helicopter and climbed inside the cockpit while Richard wandered towards the edge of the roof and stared at the ground below.

  Hundreds of infected had gathered around the bar from every direction. They reached up their dirtied hands up towards the roof towards Richard, snarling, and moaning.

  “Come on! What are you waiting for?!” Mathis shouted. “Get in!”

  Mathis toggled the helicopter’s starter switch and began the starting sequence. The copter’s engine churned to life as fluid pressure started stabilizing. He took the radio headset that was hung above his seat and pulled the wire off of them. He plugged the wire into a jack on the outside of his white-suit while he waited for the RPMs to reach full throttle.

  Richard crawled into the co-pilot seat and slammed the door shut behind him. The sound of the whirling blades was loud even with the cockpit sealed. He looked at Mathis and saw his lips moving but couldn’t hear a word he was saying.

  “What?!” Richard shouted.

  Mathis reached over, grabbed the headset hung above Richard’s seat, and tossed it in Richard’s lap.

  Richard put the headset on and the ambient noise was immediately muffled.

  “I said that we’re on borrowed time,” Mathis said into his suit’s mike. The voice came in loud and clear over Richard’s headset. “If those jets circle back and spot us, they’ll shoot us down just like the others.”

  “What about the radio? Can’t we call somebody?” Richard yelled.

  Mathis recoiled in his seat.

  “Speak normally,” Mathis said. “I can hear you just fine through the headset’s mike. We’re listening to the Army frequency now. It feeds in alongside our two-ways in the cockpit.”

  “But I don’t hear anything,” Richard said.

  “I know. We’ve been cut off and the frequencies are being scrambled. I was hoping that we could access a secure DSN terminal at Glenwood Five-Points and contact someone on the outside, but the equipment was purposefully thrashed.”

  He keyed the mike on the
ceiling.

  “Mayday! I am requesting an emergency extraction! Come in, over!” he said.

  The line crackled with static.

  No response.

  Mathis continued transmitting.

  “I am infection free and currently five-clicks away from event epicenter, en-route for extraction with a HVT! I have a Sample-Prime HVT in my custody! Repeating, subject is Sample-Prime! What is your location? Do you copy? Does anybody copy?”

  “[static] Falls Lake FOB, [static] repeat your [static] located a Sample-Prime [static]”

  “You’ve got through!” Richard said, looking at him.

  Mathis shook his head.

  “We’re only receiving them because of their close proximity,” he explained. “The Falls Lake forward operating base is in the red zone. That whole area is.”

  “So? What does that mean?” Richard asked.

  “That means that they can’t do anything for us,” Mathis said. “They’re trapped in here… just like us.”

  He pressed the transmit button.

  “Falls Lake, this is Colonel Mathis. Where is the nearest operational secure DSN terminal, over?”

  “[static]to proceed to Brier Creek Staging Area [static] extraction. [static] the beacon on your display. We- [static]”

  He banked the helicopter away from the hollowed remnants of downtown and flew it over Glenwood Avenue. He glanced down at the avenue of wrecked vehicles and thousands of wandering infected. Vacated homes lined the avenue along both sides.

  Richard looked over at Mathis, expectant.

  Mathis shook his head again.

  “It’s a set-up. Nobody is running extraction details anymore. They just want me to land there so that they can ambush us, take you into custody, and have a bargaining chip to escape the quarantine,” he said. “We’re on our own until I can get in touch with DC.”

  “This is Major General Yates to [static] –hello? [static] –do you copy?”

  Mathis didn’t reply.

  “ [static] –make your way to Brier Creek [static] –for extraction. Is that understood [static]”

  Mathis toggled the radio off.

  “Yates must think that I’m an idiot,” he said, shaking his head. “I would have thought that he would have been extracted when the shit first hit the fan, but I guess they really aren’t taking any chances with this. Rank really doesn’t matter anymore, I guess.”