by Jack Wallen
“You have a choice; death by gunshot or by infection. Until someone confesses, I will use one or the other on each of you.”
Gerand raised the pistol and pointed it toward one of his original helpers.
“You first. Which will it be; bullet through the brain or virus in the vein? I’ll give you ten seconds to reply. Ten. Nine. Eight.”
One by one, Gerand counted off the seconds. With each count, the young girl grew desperate. Tears raced down her blotchy cheeks, the pout of her lips turned inward.
“Seven. Six. Five.”
The smell of urine permeated the air.
“Four. Three. Two.”
“No! I can’t. Please don’t make me,” the frightened girl cried out.
Gerand lifted the gun and cocked back the hammer. Everyone near the girl stepped back.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I was just…”
“You were just, what?” Gerand interrupted.
“I thought…I thought you were quoting Hitler. That’s all, I swear.”
The gun lowered, the biologists left eyebrow raised in curiosity.
“I will give you a reprieve, if, and only if, you can tell me how long this body would have continued on had it not been for the premature removal of the skull and brain.”
“How is that poss – ”
The gun returned to firing position.
“Oh my God, oh my God. Okay, just give me a minute to examine the remains.”
“Take your time. The body isn’t going anywhere. For this research to continue, however, we must know how long this body would have remained animated before it, yet again, expired.”
Nervous fingers picked up surgical instruments from the table and began probing around the body. With an impressive efficiency, the young woman had the left atrium of the heart dissected and a smear of blood under a microscope. Her eyes jumped between two scopes and a tablet of paper. The blood on the glass slide came from the bowel soup. The second slide contained a microtome-sliced, tissue-thin piece of flesh, taken from the atrium. A curious ‘hmmm’ escaped from the technician’s lips.
“What is it? What have you found?” Gerand peered over the young woman’s small shoulder. When she didn’t reply immediately, Gerand placed the palm of his hand on the back of her neck. “You’ve no reason to be nervous. Right? Now, tell us the inspiration behind the sound you just made.”
With no apparent means of slipping out of Gerand’s cold grasp, the young woman sucked in a deep, jittery breath, and offered up her analysis.
“According to my estimation, the differential between the state of decomposition between the cardiac and gastric systems is two weeks.”
Just as Gerand released the sound of celebration, the technician held up a shaking hand to silence the man.
“The heart muscle shows absolutely no sign of decomposition. It was as if the muscle still pumped fresh blood.”
Gerand shoved his way back to the surgical table and glared down at the open torso. His gloved hand shot to the heart.
“What is to blame for this?” the biologist wrapped his fingers around the remaining meat of the ventricle and atria. “There had to have been some level of degradation in the cells. Are you sure you examined the correct tissue?”
“I’m certain, doctor. I took the sample directly from the muscle tissue and placed it onto the slide immediately.”
“Give me your scalpel.”
Gerand grabbed the girl’s tools and went to work on the left ventricle. In a matter of seconds, the sliver of tissue was on glass and under the scope.
“This is not possible. I refuse to believe this. Damn it.” Gerand punctuated his exclamation with a pound of a fist on surgical steel. “The heart muscle was still very much living tissue when the brain was destroyed.” Another, harder punch to the table; this time the microscope tipped, only to be saved by one of the nearby technicians.
All was silent and still. Every eye in the lab was locked on the biologist’s back as a nervous energy raced through the room. When Gerand turned to face the crowed, his eyes were ringed with madness. Before anyone could pose a question or offer a theory, the doctor’s right hand shot out and wrapped fingers around the neck of the girl assistant.
He slammed her head down so hard that her forehead bounced off the steel table. Her body collapsed to the floor.
“Move her to Examination Room B,” was all Gerand said before he made his way to his office.
Inside his personal sanctuary, Gerand sat and placed his shaking and sweating head in his hands. Guilt raced through his mind. He knew what he had to do; knew he must have a subject to study. If this experiment was to succeed, he must have the means to fully understand the undead ‘life’ cycle.
When Gerand finally lifted his head, his eyes fell upon the lock box containing the virus.
“I am not bound by the Hippocratic Oath. It is not my duty to ‘do no harm’,” Gerand whispered as he picked up the small case and returned to the lab.
Within Examination Room B, the young girl was starting to rouse from her trauma-induced nap. The first thing her blurry vision was able to focus on was the hypodermic as it sucked liquid death from the vial.
“What are you going to do with that?”
“Learn.”
“No. Please don’t do this. I helped you…I did everything you asked.”
“That is precisely why I am using you as my subject. You care; about me, about this mission. I can see the passion for science in your eyes. It only makes sense that you be the one to open the door to a truth I so desperately need to witness.”
Gerand presented the syringe so the woman could see the instrument of her doom. The moment her eyes saw the liquid virus tilting within the plastic tube, tears rained down upon her cheeks. She tried to cry out to Gerand but her words fell behind a throat closed by grief. Instead, she shook her head. Her tears flew out and splashed onto Gerand’s trousers. The dark blots soaked through the fabric of the pants, but went completely unnoticed.
As the needle broke the skin of the woman’s thigh, the patient and the doctor’s eyes met. There was no understanding, no remorse – only fear from either side.
“I will wait with you, as you spiral downward into the abyss. From what I have witnessed, the transition will be quite painful. I wish there were something I could do for the oncoming suffering, but you must experience the evolution to its fullest. I must know what happens when the acceleration occurs without hindrance or help. Tell me, what is your name?”
Sobs erupted from the now-infected woman. “My name means nothing now. I’m no more than an experiment to you, a goddamn number. You can just kiss my ass.”
Gerand placed a gentle hand on a sobbing cheek. “I am truly sorry for this; if there were any other way…”
Regret caressed the biologist and flushed his cheeks with sorrow. His hand moved from the woman’s cheek to brush her hair from her eyes. He stared around the room, in search of something. After a quick glance over his shoulder, he turned back to the patient.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Had I known what was going to be demanded of me, I would have never agreed.”
“Agreed to what? I don’t understand.”
The red-rimmed, tear-filled eyes of the woman met Gerand’s gaze.
“My name is Adele.”
“Thank you, Adele. Though you didn’t willingly volunteer for this death sentence, what you are doing will hopefully save lives.”
A wash of pain lashed at Adele; her body buckled under the agony and tested the limits of the restraints.
Gerand grabbed the woman’s hand. “What are you feeling?”
“Your bedside manner really sucks.” Adele spoke through clenched teeth. “It feels like my insides are on fire.” A scream issued from her mouth. “Oh my God, the noise. Please, Gerand, stop the noise.”
The biologist stood, glanced at his watch, and scratched the time and date on a note pad.
“I don’t unders
tand. What noise?”
Another scream queen roar issued from Adele’s lips. “Inside my head. I can’t…” Her words faded to silence. The woman lay on the hospital bed, sweat dripping from her flesh, her chest heaving shallow breath.
“It passed. I’m okay now.” Adele looked up at Gerand, her eyes searched for mercy. “Please, don’t let this happen to me. You can stop it, can’t you?”
Gerand closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. The one flaw in the Zero Day Collective’s plan revealed. There was no cure. That lack was intentional. Had there been a means to stop the spread of the virus, the possibility of some selfless hero saving the day loomed in the background. John Burgess refused to allow even the slightest chance his Great Cleansing be foiled.
“Why are you doing this Gerand? I don’t mean just to me. Why are you working for them? What do you hope to accomplish?”
The question was one the biologist had allowed to bounce around his mind since he began this mad ride. Only one logical answer ever presented itself.
“To survive.”
Adele’s brow wrinkled with curiosity.
“I believe the only members of the human race that will survive this virus will be the ones behind the curtain. I don’t know how they could possibly contain the infection and stop it from spreading. This plan of theirs would happen whether I agreed or not. So I figured I might as well join them and have a chance at survival. It’s not right, I know. Hell, to be honest it’s not actually logical. Fear drove me to make the choice. So, if I were to answer your question honestly, I would have to say I’m doing this because I am a coward. But not a coward without conscience. I intend on doing everything I can…” Gerand’s eyes darted around the room. “I’m sorry. I can’t say anything more.”
The tiniest of smiles alighted Adele’s mouth. The smile fought the juxtaposition of tears falling from her eyes. The overall effect wrenched at Gerand’s heart.
“I’m very sorry, Gerand.”
“For what?”
“That the world has come to this. That life means so little to so many.”
Chapter 20
“I’ve tried three cell phones, all different carriers, and none have signals. How can that be?”
Mixx looked up at me to answer.
“Someone is jamming the signals. My guess - the bastards that hired us to film this gig.”
“Whoa!” Sonja stood and waved her arms. “Is now really the time to go conspiracy? I mean, yeah, something seems wrong here. But why would they need to prevent cell phone calls? It doesn’t make any sense. This is a horror film; not Peter fucking Jackson filming yet another prequel in a shire. There’s no need for that level of secrecy.”
“If they are, indeed, just filming a movie. What if this whole production is nothing more than a cover up for some government-funded biological weapons test?” Mixx stood to meet Sonja, eye to eye. “Think about it. We’ve filmed scenes that were impossible to explain. I swear to you, those stunts were live. There were no squibs, no doubles, and no prosthetics. I can’t fathom how anyone would manage such realistic effects.” Mixx paused and let his eyes bounce between Sonja and I. “Unless what we were seeing was real.”
“Do you hear yourself? What’s next? Are you going to say we’re dealing with real zombies? Come on, Eddie, there has to be a more reasonable explanation.”
I stood and separated the two before they had a chance to get any more heated. The tension was already thick enough.
“I don’t know Sonja. Usually I’d have to agree with you; but this time, I’m not so sure. I’ve worked with some pretty seriously fucked up actors before, but that guy on the street – I snapped the guy’s jaw off and he didn’t blink.”
My confession silenced Sonja. A change trickled down her face; doubt seeped under her skin.
“What? No, that’s not…” Sonja bit her lip as if she didn’t want finish the phrase. “What do we do?”
And there it was – the money shot question. How we answered that would not only determine our next action, but carried with it the possibility that we were to completely re-define our purpose. I decided my role as director would have to evolve. But to what end? And how? I had the best camera crew in the business at my disposal – it was time to make good use of them.
“What we’re going to do is continue filming; only now, our goal is to amass enough evidence to prove what in the hell is going on here. Maybe we’ll find that, in the end, this was nothing more than a zombie film. Or maybe there is something much deadlier going on. When it’s all over, we’ll either be insanely rich, or heroes.”
“Or both.” Eddie grinned.
As I breathed in the moment, something dawned on me.
“We can’t let anyone know of our suspicion.” I grabbed Eddie by the arm. “My dear Mixx, we’re going to need your stealth on our side.”
The grin on Eddie’s face instilled just the right amount of confidence.
“I’m listening.”
“The Zero Day Collective works out of a building very close to ours.”
“Still listening.”
I grabbed a small case and popped it open. Cushioned in a cocoon of protective foam was a modified helmet camera I used for special circumstances. The camera could be attached to nearly anything and could be fed into the same wireless network the cameras used (which, conveniently enough, wasn’t being blocked along with the phones). When I pulled the camera out, Eddie’s eyes went wide with excitement.
“Holy shit, Malcolm. I’ve heard rumor of this beauty.”
“She films 1080p in high def with no fish eye and contains a fully functioning, internal, gyro-scoping dampener. You’ll not find anything that can do what this does, at this size.”
Eddie pulled the camera from the case as if he were retrieving a priceless holy relic. The man was lost, geeking out over the tech.
“You need a moment alone?” Sonja toyed.
“I might. Damn, Malcolm, this is serious.”
“Back to the now guys. What exactly is our plan?”
Sonja’s question drew a silent curtain down on the discussion. I studied the faces of my cohorts and tossed my mind back over everything that had happened in the previous incident.
“We’re going to make a movie…within a movie.”
My time-bomb statement took a moment to detonate within the minds of Sonja and Eddie. When it did finally explode, crooked grins and cocked eyebrows made it clear we were all on the same page.
“An obscured making of. That’s brilliant.” Eddie Mixx gave my cheek a smack as if he were some mafia don.
“Sonja, sync the spy cam up to the network. Before you do, however, I have a little extra magic to add to the sauce.”
From another case, I pulled out a micro SD card and displayed it for Sonja and Eddie.
“Encryption. With this card, everything sent out from the spycam will be encrypted. The only way to crack the encryption is with a key I carry on a flash drive.” I gave a smile and a wink. “…a little something I picked up on a film I did about a group of young hackers. You never know when you’re going to need to hack the planet.”
Sonja got the reference and presented her usual double-thumbs-up grin of approval. I slid the card into the spycam and turned the device on. The cameras wireless light flashed red twice and then green.
“It’s transmitting.”
“Got it.” Sonja nearly shouted.
I handed Sonja the drive with the decryption key. She kissed the drive and slid it into a USB slot on her laptop. The whole of the moment was pure sex.
“You’re good. You single?” Eddie chided.
“Not if you’re asking.” Sonja rejected.
Sonja added the decryption key to her encryption keychain. When she opened the feed from the tiny camera, everything was perfect.
“We are live and lovely.”
With Eddie locked and loaded, we sent him out the door. The spycam was mounted to a retractable pole, so he could get shots into higher windows.
In order to pull off the lie, Eddie also carried a standard camera. His first mission was to head to the HQ building of the funding group.
“Honestly, Malcolm, I hope like hell Eddie comes up with nothing. I don’t know about you, but I want this to just be a regular gig, not some fucked up nightmare paved, yellow brick road to prison. If that group is doing something illegal, I want nothing to do with it. Maybe, at one point in my life I was down with that type of sickness. Now? I just want to taste normal.”
I gave Sonja a hug. “I’ve tasted normal and it sucks. But I’m with ya. And if they’re doing something illegal – ”
“Or amoral,” Sonja interrupted.
I nodded and continued. “ – we’ll get it on film and report them to the authorities. Simple as that. And no matter what that group says, the camera doesn’t lie – at least not on my watch. This isn’t some pre-scripted reality TV bullshit, this is life. If they are doing something, we’ll know it.”
Sonja stared into me. She had a way of looking past the facade and to the heart and core of truth. “What do you know of this Burgess guy?”
My eyes lingered on at Sonja, my mouth unsure of what to say at first. When I did finally speak, my voice was peppered with embarrassment and guilt.
“Honestly, not much. When he flashed his bankroll at me, I sort of neglected to vet the man.”
“Well fuck.” Sonja moaned. “So we have no idea what we’re dealing with. This dude could be a madman on a killing spree, for all we know. Don’t worry, I got this.”
And with that, Sonja returned to her station and let her fingers dance over her laptop keys. I didn’t have to ask. She was doing what I should have done before I accepted this gig – research the man writing the checks.
“John Burgess. CEO of LabTechCo as well as chair, figurehead, and mouthpiece of a movement called The Zero Day. Apparently, the goal of the group is to help focus mankind on returning to a less complicated way of life. There’s no explanation – just an ass-load of buzz words and catch phrases. It’s like some school of business puked up a monograph with just enough wisdom to keep everyone interested. But nothing is really said. Beyond that, it’s all too conveniently vague. They do use the word pure a number of times.”