Howard could not understand what else the scientists thought they would learn. They already knew that the virus reactivated part of the brain (discovered during a very dangerous CAT scan) and they would only eat living human flesh. Why not simply destroy all the subjects and stockpile the virus? Howard shook his head. He knew that they were working on an anti-virus as well. Sitting back in his chair, Howard wondered what would happen if Mahan knew how much he really knew about things in Keystone? Once perfected, the virus could be released and after the dust settled, if the anti-virus worked as planned, (deactivating CR-IV), one nation or corporation would be left in charge of the world. Howard shuddered at the thought of the virus escaping. Could humanity cope with the disaster it would cause?
Howard was skimming the other screens when he saw someone working in the culture lab. Glancing at the clock, he noted the time was 2150. Long past when work stopped for the night. Leaning forward, Howard touched a control, switching to a different camera. Howard could see that it was Graham. The nerd scientist preferred working alone, rarely taking a break. He worked, slept, and worked again. As far as Howard knew, the man had no friends among the staff. Did he have permission to be working late? Howard was about to check the log when he saw it; Graham took one vial, replaced it with another. Graham did it so quickly Howard had to check the footage four times before he was sure of what he’d seen.
Howard felt his heart rate increase. Graham was up to something. Lifting a dark blue security phone, Howard, never taking his eyes off his prey, began giving instructions to his people.
Keystone Research Facility
Somewhere in the Alleghenies
29 April 2028
Once in the changing room, Graham could feel sweat dripping down his back. He could feel the vial in the waistband of his underwear, digging into his boney frame. Trying to stay calm, he changed into a fresh pair of scrubs – the usual attire within climate controlled Keystone, making sure the vial remained secure. As he finished dressing, he made a fatal decision; he would drop by his quarters, grab a few things, and then try to slip out.
As he stalked through the corridors to Mahan’s quarters, Howard could hardly believe what he’d seen. Even with all the constant background checks, they had a traitor in their midst! What was more, he worked in culturing the virus, so what was he planning? Was Graham going to release it? Perhaps sell it to the highest bidder?
As he moved quickly through the empty corridors, a smile slowly crossed Howard’s face. The only thing their traitor did not know was that his little secret was out. As he walked down the long corridor toward Mahan’s office, the Security Chief of Keystone grinned. Having discovered this danger to the entire facility, he was sure to get a large reward, while the traitor…well there was no telling what Mahan would order for Graham, though Howard had an idea or two.
Mahan had a passive look on his face as Howard finished his report. Once the security chief was finished, the scientist’s face twisted in anger. "I know how to handle this. I think we just found a new subject.” Mahan glanced at his watch. It was 22:35. Late enough that few personnel, other than night security would be about. Mahan and Howard made sure that the night security detail was loyal to them above all. Face twisting into an ugly grimace; Mahan growled, “In fact, why wait? Go get this damn traitor and bring him to the chamber. We’ll see if he has anything to say after a visit there!"
Standing outside the hyperbaric chamber, Mahan waited impatiently. Leaning forward, he peered into the chamber. To gain entrance, one would enter a holding area, the door of which was sealed, then wait while a second hatch opened. Once the holding area door was secured, only then would the inner door; leading to the main chamber be opened. Since there was no pressurization in the tank, there was no delayed entry. The subjects, sealed in on the larger side of the chamber, allowed the staff to place a new subject in safely. This was the only safe way for subjects, or researchers, to enter the chamber.
Mark Graham sported a bruise over one eye and the right shoulder of his scrub top was torn. As Howard and the two other security officers led him to Mahan, his face showed defiance. Now Mahan had to wonder, why was Graham going the traitor route? Having been rivals for years, Mahan knew that Graham also resented being passed over by Tyree.
Mahan smiled at him. "Thinking of taking a little mid-night stroll, Mark?"
Graham was staring past him, his eyes narrowed. As he looked at the chamber, he could see two of the subjects shadows pass by the thick glass of the observation window. A feeling of calm passed over him. Could this be what the docent had spoken of? Was he going to enter paradise? Were the revived really here from God to lead the worthy to eternity? As one of the security officers opened the outer door, he could feel his fear replaced with an almost unnatural calm. Taking a deep breath, Graham held his head high.
Howard placed a hand in between Graham’s shoulder blades and shoved him forward.
"Answer the man, damn it!"
Graham swallowed and said, “I was just going to get a breath of air, see the stars. No harm in that. I’ve done it plenty of times.”
Mahan’s face twisted into a parody of a smile. Slowly he nodded at Howard.
Howard leaned close to Graham, allowing his moist breath to tickle the man’s ear. He raised the vial of virus so Graham could see it. “And do you always take classified samples for a stroll?”
Graham clamped his mouth shut. He would not give these two the satisfaction of begging for his life. He wondered if he could bluff his way out, claim that he merely forgot he was holding the sample. As he was going to try this, Howard leaned forward and whispered, “Bad enough we caught you with the sample, Graham. We also have you on camera, taking it. This wasn’t any mistake.”
Graham’s face froze in a grimace, and then softened. Mahan stood there, shaking his head. “Graham, do you know anything about loyalty? Anything at all?”
Graham knew right then he was going to die. Sneering at the head of Keystone, he growled, “Loyalty? You’re the one who doesn’t know the meaning of the word! You’re a hack, Mahan! I should have been in charge here! You’re Tyree’s mistake!”
Mahan grinned and leaned closer. “You? I’m surprised you haven’t pissed your pants already, Mark. I got the job because I’m better at selling myself than you. So what were you going to do with the sample? Sell it? Go to the papers? The Police? F.B.I. perhaps?”
Graham stared, his eyes hard. “Fuck you.”
Mahan turned away from Graham and motioned toward the now cycling outer door. As he did, two security men raised their weapons. Caution was always the watchword when the chamber was opened. So far, security measures had been 100 percent effective, but why slack off now? If one of the creatures had somehow remained in the inner chamber, waiting and gave one the slightest bite or scratch, they would be infected. That would start the dreadful process that ended only one way, with death and then revival as a zombie, hungry for human flesh. There were rumors of a counter-virus, one that would protect from this hideous infection, but so far, it hadn’t been issued.
One of the security officers pulled the door fully open. Mahan made a motion toward the vestibule and said, “I don’t think we have anything else to say, Graham, you had your chance to talk.”
Howard shoved Graham forward. His feet caught them on the edge of the doorway and he fell, the hard metal tearing the skin of his knees, blood staining his pants instantly. As Howard yanked him to his feet, Graham’s shirt tore a bit more, revealing a flash of red on his chest.
“Stop,” Mahan ordered.
Howard and the second security man yanked Graham to his feet. Graham wanted to pull his shirt back into place, to keep Mahan, no, all the unbelievers from seeing the mark of his faith.
Mahan stayed a safe distance away, pointing at Graham’s chest. “What is that?”
Howard looked at the tattoo, a small red diamond over the heart. “Tattoo, Doctor Mahan.” With a ripping sound, Howard tore the rest of the shirt away, grinnin
g as he asked, “Were you a gang-banger, Graham?”
Graham, sweating heavily even though the room was cool, said nothing. Mahan’s face slowly filled with anger. “You’re one of them, aren’t you Graham?”
Howard looked confused. “One of who Doctor? What’s going on?”
Mahan came a bit closer, pointed at the tattoo. “He’s one of those nuts, what’s the name, the Order of Lazarus!” Mahan’s voice rose in triumph, his eyes glittering. “I thought you were a scientist, Mark. Not a religious fanatic.”
Graham lunged forward a bit. “The Order is true, their message is true! Humanity needs to be purged! What we’ve created here, this is a sign!”
Mahan held his chin with one hand, peering over the rim of his glasses. “Graham, when the subjects are done, I’m going to enjoy dissecting you. Throw him in.”
Graham didn’t struggle as they pushed him into the chamber, slamming the door shut. Disappointing Mahan, he showed no fear at all. He stood there, staring at the closing door a smile slowly growing on his face. Reaching down to his bleeding knees, he took some of the blood and drew a small red diamond on the porthole. His face looked absurdly calm considering the death that was awaiting him.
Graham spoke. Eyes filled with an unnatural calm, his lips began to move soundlessly until Mahan finally pressed the intercom switch.
“You think you’re killing me, Mahan? You’re blessing me! You’re granting me eternal life! A gift you won’t get Mahan, you or any of the unbelievers with you!”
As Graham began to laugh maniacally, Mahan released the intercom switch and turned away.
At the control board, Howard pressed a switch. Slowly the inner door began to open.
Keystone Research Facility
Somewhere in the Alleghenies
30 April 2028
Mahan slid the flash drive into the USB slot, touched a control and sat back to watch.
Graham stood there, a strange light filling his eyes. The look was neither fear nor anger. Mahan stared at his former subordinate, wondering why the man wasn’t shaking with fear. Then it struck him. Graham’s face was filled with desire! What kind of lunatic was he? He had his back against the door, arms akimbo, hands splayed. Granny was the first to reach him. The old woman took one of Graham’s arms and stroked it almost tenderly, while goose bumps rose on his skin from the touch of the dead flesh.
With a ferociousness that made Mahan jump, Granny sank her teeth into the soft meat. With the audio disabled, Mahan could not hear any screams. Had the audio been enabled, the scientist would have been disappointed. All Graham released was a moan that, had anyone been able to hear it, sounded akin to pleasure. Mahan watched, amazed as Graham’s eyes opened wide, the pale orbs filled with joy. Smiling at the camera, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to be taken, offering no resistance at all.
The subject they called Trucks pushed Granny aside, and clawed at Graham’s chest, gnarled nails tearing away fabric and flesh to get at the organs beneath. While he did this, the others ripped into the first wound, further rending his flesh, crazed for a taste of human meat. In what seemed like moments, the attack was over, and Graham was now one of them. Mark Graham, eyes blinking stupidly, struggled to his feet. What remained of his now undead face showed the ravages of this vicious assault, eyes vacant and blank, lines around his mouth and eyes deeper from the pain of his death. Chewed loops of intestine hung from the gaping hole in his stomach. Bites of flesh from his arms and legs left bone showing. Graham snarled at the others through a ravaged throat. Bloodstained, he staggered away. Mahan glanced at the timer in the lower corner of the recording. Only two minutes had elapsed before Graham revived. That was damn fast!
Mahan watched for a few more minutes as the zombies fought over choice remains, then he shut the player off. Odd, he thought, that once something revived, they showed no further interest in it. Odder still, how it previously had taken nearly seventy hours for the dead to revive; obviously, a bite put more of the virus into a victim. Perhaps while the victim was alive the circulatory system carried the virus to the brain and nervous system faster. Mahan made a note, listing these ideas for future research. Removing the drive, he held it in his hand, toying with it. What did Graham mean? Were the Lazarites that insane to think that the dead rising would herald the end of the world? How could a scientist accept such nonsense? Shrugging these thoughts aside, he dropped the device into the burn bag under his desk. Keeping this kind of evidence around could be dangerous. Even the video he’d shown to Benton on his lone visit was long gone, destroyed under the watchful eye of security.
Turning on his computer, he opened Graham’s personnel folder. Accessing the section that listed next of kin, he was happy to see that his one-time rival had none. Mahan knew that all of the personnel assigned were supposed to be free of that particular burden (he himself was an orphan), but it paid to be sure. Betraying Benton was bad enough, but he also betrayed the memory of their mentor, Doctor Tyree. Tyree chose Mahan to be his assistant because he knew that Mahan could make the hard choices, as with Graham. Mahan saw nothing wrong with creating this virus or seeing the potential it held. Mahan knew that there were forces out there that wished to bring America down. This project was just another way to protect this country from its enemies.
Chapter 3 - Zombietown Falls
Keystone Base
Security Chief Thomas Howard Quarters
14 July 2031
Three years later.
Shirtless, Howard stared into the bathroom mirror. Briefly, a look of guilt crossed his face. He had been employed by Benton since his enlistment in the Air Force expired. His salary and benefits were good, but one goal constantly eluded him, to take Foresters place. It was clear from the few times that Forester came to check the facility, that his time was past. Forester’s eyes held a haunted look and as soon as he arrived, couldn’t wait to leave. Howard wanted to keep tabs on his boss, see if there was something he could bring to Benton, and perhaps turn the man against Forester. Being trapped in Keystone was making this difficult. Howard was sure that Benton needed a new security head, a more dynamic one. Howard believed that it was the color of his skin that was holding him back. Benton was still living with the notion that the black man should serve, not lead. Forester, in Howard’s eyes was just a Tom, dancing to Benton’s tune. This idea festered in Howard’s mind until, on leave in Philadelphia, using information he’d discovered searching Graham’s quarters (trips outside the facility were limited to those Forester and Benton thought most trustworthy), he contacted a representative at TriPharm.
Now it was time to earn what BPC’s rivals promised. Forester was a dinosaur, but Mr. Benton listened to him as if the man were infallible. As he pulled on a white tee, and then his dark grey uniform shirt, Howard snorted. If Forester ever found out what TriPharm was going to pay him, Howard might end up in the chamber with the other subjects, forgotten by all but the scientists, eventually ending up like the others, a series of tissue samples in various Petri dishes. It would be more than enough to start his own security business, be his own man, wealthy beyond anything he ever dreamed.
Howard stared into the mirror a second time. He thought about Forester, who recruited him when he was considering leaving the Air Force. Forester guided the young man, helping him climb the ladder within BPC. Howard looked down at his hands. One bore scars from his service in the Middle East when he tossed a grenade out of his Humvee. That kind of act brought him to the attention of a friend of Forester’s who was always looking for the best. Now, for money, like Judas, Howard was going to betray the company. A wry look crossed his face. Why not? Old man Benton was not going to let a dynamic black man climb the ladder, when he could have a Tom dancing to his tune. So why not betray the company? Why not let TriPharm have the research? Wasn’t competition good for business?
Leaving the small bathroom, Howard looked around his quarters for the last time. He had been in Keystone for five years, watching as the researchers perfected the viru
s. Why should Benton have it exclusively? Wouldn’t the world be safer if another company had it? Howard knew he was justifying an act of industrial espionage, but he was sure that the two hundred and fifty million TriPharm promised would help him sleep at night.
Howard glanced at his watch. It was nearly 0300 hours. His contact at TriPharm promised to have a cell dispatched to take over the facility. As he strapped on his pistol belt, Howard hoped they were on time. Still if he and his one accomplice did not take care of a few things, the entire assault would go wrong.
As long as his new partners kept their word, nothing could go wrong. Taking one last look around before flicking off the lights, Howard left his quarters for the last time.
Keystone Research Facility
Outside the Main Gate
14 July 2031
Security Officer Len Cherry, sweating in his ghillie suit, held his M11 close to his chest. He could feel the camo makeup on his face smearing as he sweated. On either side were two more security officers, Jake Mosley and Darnell Hobbs. Cherry wiped sweat from his eyes, peered off into the darkness, waiting for the signal that it was time to begin. Cherry was going the same route as Howard, turned by a promise of money from TriPharm. For him, the price was a paltry twenty million, but that was more than enough. With the money safe in an offshore account, he planned on never working again. Howard made sure that Cherry was on duty tonight, when a group of operatives from TriPharm would arrive. His task was to make sure that the other two other men were neutralized, allowing TriPharm’s mercenaries easy entrance to the facility.
Slowly, carefully, as Cherry made sure his silencer was secure, he flipped his safety off. When the signal came, he would eliminate his former partners, but in deference to their friendship, he would do it quick, sparing them any pain.
“What’s that?”
Enclave: A Novel of the Zombie Apocalypse Page 4