Rotter World

by Scott M. Baker

  Tatyana rose to her feet slowly and deliberately. O’Bannon noticed that the pain and anguish she had felt a moment before was now replaced by a sneer of revulsion. Good, he thought. That emotion he could deal with. She fully morphed into her vampiric form. Her fingers elongated into talons, the palms out to her side and ready to attack, as her lips curled back to expose the mouth full of fangs. Her eyes turned crimson, intensified by her hatred. She growled as she moved toward him.

  Without taking his eyes off of Tatyana, O’Bannon reached up to the top bunk, stuck his hand under the mattress, and removed a pair of stakes. Holding one in each hand, he assumed a knife fighting stance. His eyes showed no emotion because he didn’t feel any.

  “Bring it on, bitch.”

  Tatyana stopped and eyed him. He couldn’t place the emotion he saw in them, uncertain whether it was fear or disillusionment, not that it mattered. When she took a tentative step backwards, he knew he had won.

  “You’d really kill me?” she asked.

  “In a heartbeat.”

  Tatyana reverted back to her human form, a shattered expression on her face. “Didn’t I ever mean anything to you?”

  “You’re just a mattress, hon. Something to sleep on.” Still holding the stakes in each hand, he used his right foot to kick her clothes across the floor. “Now get out before I stick this in you.”

  Bending over, Tatyana scooped up her clothes and raced out of the room, forgetting to close the door behind her. Once the sound of her running feet faded down the hall, O’Bannon stepped over to the door to shut and lock it. He strolled back to the bunk and crawled into bed, still holding a stake in each hand in case Tatyana or one of the other bloodsuckers tried to even the score later that night. He didn’t have much time to contemplate that option, though, since he fell into a deep sleep shortly after his head hit the pillow.

  Chapter Forty-six

  The rotters wedged between the two perimeter fences shuffled along in one mass, each following the other in a glacially-slow clockwise movement that after several hours would bring them back to where they started. According to the log books, they had been trapped between the twin gates nearly two weeks ago so the convoy could slip out of the facility unscathed, and since then had been endlessly circling the enclosure. It reminded Ari of the cattle she used to watch on her grandfather’s farm as they were herded into a confined area before being shipped off to slaughter. Except these things didn’t evoke the same empathy in her that the cows did.

  Even so, Ari could not take her eyes off the monitor that belonged to the security camera focused on the front gate. She had been transfixed by the horde for most of her shift in the control room, unable to avert her attention. This was the first time she was able to truly study the rotters up close, or at least as close as the camera could get her. By zooming the lens in and adjusting the angle to track them, she watched select rotters for fifteen or twenty minutes at a time. It left her feeling empty and depressed.

  At one time each of these things had been an individual just like her. They had loved ones, they had jobs or classes or something that occupied their lives, they had felt love and anger, happiness and despair. They had harbored dreams and aspirations that didn’t include joining the ranks of the living dead. But the key word here was “had”. As she watched them hour after hour, she saw nothing that indicated any feelings. No signs of physical pain. No signs of emotion. No signs of individual thought. They huddled around each other, a mindless mass stripped of every last shred of humanity. The only tenuous link they had to the living was their instinct to feed.

  At one point a deer wandered out of the darkness and approached the fence, coming to within a few feet before the rotters saw it. Those closest to the deer began moaning and clutching at the chain links, sloughing the decayed flesh off their fingers. The others around them joined in, oblivious as to what caused the commotion, generating a mass frenzy. As expected, the deer bolted back to the safety of the forest, and once it was gone the rotters quieted down and resumed their shambling.

  Then something caught her attention. She noticed it at the far end of the monitor. Shifting the camera to the right, she focused on the female rotter pressed up against the fence and wearing a soiled and torn hospital gown. It moved more awkwardly then the others because it protected something cradled in its left arm. When the rotter shifted slightly so it faced the camera, Ari saw that it clutched a baby. The umbilical cord was still attached, draping down from the infant’s belly before disappearing under the gown. Its tiny arms and legs twitched, while its tiny mouth suckled on the mother’s emaciated breast.

  Ari wanted to weep from despair. She reached up with her right hand and fingered her mermaid pendant, a gift from her own mother on her sixteenth birthday, and now her only link to humanity.

  Daytona entered the room, holding a thermos of hot coffee. “The cavalry has arrived.”

  “Thank God.” For the first time in hours, Ari looked away from the monitor.

  “Watcha doin’?”

  “Studying the end of mankind.”

  He glanced over at the monitor. “Jesus, kid. Why are you torturing yourself like that?”

  “They’re hard to ignore.” Ari glanced back at the monitor. “Don’t you ever imagine who they were when things were normal?”

  “No.”

  “But look.” Ari pointed to the monitor. “There’s one rotter in there wearing a cheerleader’s outfit. One is dressed in a tuxedo. Another one’s in a business suit. I can’t help but wonder what they were doing when they were turned.”

  “I don’t think about it because I don’t want to think of them as human. They’re not anymore. If I think of them as people, I wouldn’t be able to kill them.” Daytona placed his hand gently on her shoulder and squeezed. “And you shouldn’t be thinking of them that way either.”

  “It’s hard not to.”

  “They’re dead, kid. Their souls are in a better place. What you’re seeing there are walking corpses.”

  Ari wanted to believe him, wanted to reassure herself that there was nothing human left in their shells of a body. But then her eyes fell on the rotter mother clutching her dead infant, and she started to doubt.

  “Come on, kid. Shift’s over. Go get some rest. You need it.”

  Ari turned away from the monitor and stood up. She wished Daytona a good night and headed back to her room, trying to force the image of rotter maternal instincts from her mind. Though she doubted she ever would.

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Robson woke up to find Natalie cuddled against him. He lay there for several minutes, admiring everything about her. How her chin rested on his chest and one arm draped over him, protecting him. How she breathed deeply yet sedately, a sign that she felt safe around him. How even though they were buried hundreds of feet underground and surrounded by rotters, she could still sleep with a smile on her face, content with what life had thrown her way. The other night when they made love was the first time he had been with a woman since the outbreak began, and he had almost forgotten how alive the touch of another person made you feel. His contentment went beyond the physical, which had been fantastic. Emotionally he felt more alive than he had in months. Despite having admitted that he had left Susan to die, Natalie still wanted to be with him, and trusted him enough to open her heart. Even more importantly, her faith had allowed him to forgive himself. With that heavy burden lifted from his shoulders, Robson could now begin to live again.

  Natalie awoke a few minutes later. She greeted him with a warm grin and a good morning kiss, which led to a passionate embrace. They made love, this time slowly and sensually, savoring the moment, exploring each other physically and emotionally, and strengthening the bond between them.

  After showering and getting dressed, they headed for the cafeteria. As they walked, Natalie clasped his hand, sliding her fingers between his and gently squeezing. Robson found the dichotomy striking. Over the past few months he had watched Natalie shoot down rotters wi
th military precision, standing her ground against packs of the living dead without flinching. Now she acted like a teenager going to the prom. It made him adore her even more.

  If he could find such happiness in a world as fucked up as this, there may be hope for what little remained of mankind.

  As they entered the cafeteria, Robson noticed that everyone was already eating breakfast except for Compton, Thompson, Jennifer, and Tatyana. Everyone watched him and Natalie intently. A small band of Angels and Caylee were seated by the counter. They leaned closer and began chatting in hushed whispers. Dravko, who sat against the wall with Tibor, nodded his head to Robson as if giving him the thumbs up. Robson wasn’t sure why, but he felt extremely self conscious.

  That feeling was intensified when they stepped up to the counter and grabbed some plates. Ari stuck the ladle into the scrambled eggs and asked, “I suppose you two will want an extra serving to keep your energy up?”

  “Jesus,” said Robson as he felt his cheeks flush. “How many people know?”

  “Everyone.” Ari began serving.

  “How?”

  Ari grinned broadly. “Thin walls and gossip.”

  Robson stared at her, speechless.

  “Relax,” said Ari as she dropped several strips of bacon on each plate. “We’re all happy for you.”

  “Thanks.” Natalie beamed.

  “It’s about time. What took you two so long to hook up?”

  Natalie leaned to her right and gently nudged Robson in the arm. “He’s shy.”

  Robson figured by now his complexion must be the same color as the tomato juice.

  Grabbing some coffee and utensils, the two crossed the cafeteria and took a seat with Dravko.

  “Morning, boss,” said Dravko. “Rough night?”

  “Don’t you start.” Robson quickly scooped up a slice of bacon because, truth be known, he was famished after the morning round of lovemaking. “Where do we stand with the preparations?”

  “We’re all set to roll once Compton’s ready. We finished packing the vehicles. There’s barely enough room in there for us, but we’re bringing so much stuff back with us we won’t need to make a supply run for months.”

  “Good. Once we get back to camp, I want to stay put for awhile.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Tibor said with a grin.

  Before Robson could respond to the quip, Dravko continued. “Daytona checked out the vehicles before he went on shift. He says they’re fine. So once the vaccines are prepared, we’re set to go.”

  “Good. The sooner we leave this place, the better I’ll feel.”

  “I don’t blame you. This place makes me nervous.”

  “Which route are we taking home?” asked Tibor.

  Robson took a drink of coffee to wash down his bacon. “Natalie and I charted a way home that takes us north to upstate New York. Then we’ll swing east, cut across central Vermont and New Hampshire where rotter activity should be minimal, and return home via Portland. It’ll add a couple of hundred miles and a few days to the trip, but we’ll avoid major population centers.”

  Everyone nodded uncomfortably, not wanting to remember what they had gone through outside of Harrisburg.

  “Once we figure out who the drivers will be, we’ll sit down and go over the route. I have copies of all the maps in my room.”

  The conversation devolved into small talk for the next ten minutes. The Angels finished their breakfast and filed out in small groups, most of them casting an approving glance at Robson and Natalie. She smiled back while he tried to hide his embarrassment. Soon the only ones who remained were those seated at their table and O’Bannon, who sat sullenly on the opposite end of the cafeteria, drinking coffee and staring at the wall.

  Jennifer entered the cafeteria. She looked around and, upon seeing Robson, made her way to him.

  “Good morning,” said Robson as she approached.

  Jennifer looked at her watch. “Shit. It is morning. I’ve been working with Compton all night to copy his notes and formulas.”

  “When will the vaccines be ready?” asked Natalie.

  “They’re done. We finished the last batch about an hour ago. That’s why I’m here. The doctor wants you to join him and Thompson in the lab.”

  “Now?”

  Jennifer nodded. “If you can. They’re waiting for you.”

  “Should I come along?” asked Dravko.

  “I wouldn’t. Compton doesn’t want to be around you any more than you want to be around him. No offense.”

  “None taken,” Dravko replied.

  Robson stood to leave. Natalie wolfed down the last of her coffee. “Hang on. I’ll join you.”

  As the two crossed the mess hall, O’Bannon rose from his chair and approached. “Mind if I come along? I’d like to hear what he has to say.”

  “Be my guest.”

  The three left the mess hall and headed for the lab.

  Chapter Forty-eight

  As Robson, Natalie, and O’Bannon walked down the hall of the laboratory building, the anticipation seemed palpable. With the last batch of vaccines completed, they could head back to camp, which suited Robson perfectly since he hated this facility. Once back in Maine, he could concentrate on ensuring that Compton and the vaccines reached Omaha so the remnants of the government could begin inoculating troops so they could take back the country from the rotters. And who knew? Maybe he and Natalie could one day actually live a normal live.

  He knocked on the door to the medical lab. A few seconds later, Thompson opened the door and ushered them inside. Compton stood by a sink in the corner of the room, meticulously washing his hands. On a table in front of them sat four steel briefcases, each the length and width of a laptop computer and eight inches thick. Three were closed. The lid to the fourth lay open. Each half of the briefcase was filled with dark gray foam bedding. One hundred glass vials four inches in length sat in four rows of twenty-five, each inserted into holes equidistant from one another. Robson assumed these were to transport the vaccine. To the left of the briefcases stood a wooden stand holding another eighteen vials. Beside that sat a cloth pouch folded over and a Taser.

  Compton finished washing up. He flipped off the excess water and wiped his hands on a towel. “Thank you for coming.”

  “Jennifer said you’ve finished preparing the vaccines.”

  “Finally, yes.” The doctor dropped the towel onto the counter by the sink and crossed over to the table. “Each of these cases contains one hundred doses of the vaccine. I’ve also made six copies of the formula and my notes. I’ll keep one each with me and Thompson. The others will accompany each case. We’ll put one in each vehicle in the convoy. I figure that way if we lose any vehicle on the way back, then we don’t lose all our work.”

  “Good thinking.”

  Compton moved over to the wooden stand. “These vials are for us. I’ll inoculate each of you just before we set out.”

  “How much time do we need before the vaccine takes effect?” asked Natalie.

  “An hour at most. Once the vaccine makes its way into the bloodstream you’ll be immune to infection if a revenant bites you.”

  “Thank God,” said Natalie.

  Robson counted the vials. “You’re three doses short. Have you already started the inoculations?”

  “No. All the doses are prepared.”

  “Who’s not getting inoculated?” asked Natalie.

  “The vampires.”

  Robson felt his chest tighten at the doctor’s cavalier answer. Instead of yelling at Compton, which was his initial reaction, he demanded in a sharp tone, “Why are they being left out?”

  “Because the vaccine is not effective on vampires. Their physiology and blood type are too different to be compatible with any vaccine prepared for humans.”

  “You knew this when you arrived at our camp?”

  “Of course.”

  “And you still allowed Dravko and his people to risk their lives on this mission without telling
them the vaccine wouldn’t help them?”

  Thompson stepped up beside the doctor, trying to diffuse the deteriorating situation. “Mike, before you get angry with us, remember that it wasn’t our decision to have Dravko’s people join us. We wanted to leave them behind. But when we first mentioned to Paul the idea of retrieving the vaccine, he insisted that it be a joint effort between humans and vampires. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of a humans-only run down here.”

  “Did you warn him that the vaccine was ineffective on vampires?”

  Thompson shook his head. “We thought about it, but in the end we decided not to. We were afraid that if Paul found out, he wouldn’t sanction the mission.”

  Robson was still furious. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “Would you have gone on this mission if I had?” Compton asked the question honestly without trying to be condescending. He spread his hands out on either side of the cases, like a messiah calling forth his flock. “You have to understand that getting this vaccine safely to Omaha may be the only chance mankind has of surviving the Revenant Virus. I’ll do whatever it takes to accomplish that, especially if all it takes is keeping the truth from you and ruffling a few feathers.”

  As angry as he was, Robson could not argue with the doctor’s reasoning.

  Natalie stepped over and looked at the open case of vials. “Can you create a vaccine for the vampires?”

  “It took months to create the vaccine for humans, and that was only after seventeen failed attempts at inoculation. They probably wouldn’t survive the trial stage.”

  “I’m willing to take the risk,” snorted O’Bannon.

  Robson glared at him furiously.

  “This is what I have for them.” Compton moved over to the cloth pouch and pulled it toward him. He unfolded the flaps, revealing three medical hypodermic needles safely nestled in cloth slits. A dark red fluid filled each one. “Each hypodermic needle contains a highly concentrated dose of the Revenant Virus, enough to change them over in a matter of minutes. The transformation will be quick and relatively painless. We’ll administer the injection as if we were giving them a vaccine, and when they turn we’ll stun them with the Taser and dispose of them.”