Nicole's Odyssey (Human Extinction Level Loss Book 1)

by Philip McClimon

  “I think we’re clear.”

  Everyone lowered their weapons and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Is everyone-”

  Nicole’s words were cut off as a runner in a uniform bearing Lt.Col rank burst through the doors and down the corridor. Everyone froze as it advanced. Its face was ashen and its eyes were dark wholes sunk deep in its head. It wheezed and hissed as it charged. Before anybody could do anything, three shots rang out. The runner stopped and then fell to the ground, unmoving. All eyes turned to look down at Jordan, standing in front of them. Legs apart, shoulders squared, she held the pistol out in front of her for several seconds. Finally, she lowered the pistol and turned back to the others. A tear ran down her cheek as she saw all eyes upon her. Finally Billy spoke.

  “Nice shootin’, Tex.”

  Jordan breathed a deep sigh and wiped the tears from her face. “Ghostbusters, right?” she said.

  Fifty

  “That last guy that Jordan popped was a high rank,” Billy said.

  Nicole pursed her lips. “It’s the eye scan that concerns me. I mean what with the decay… would the scanner even be able to read an eye?” she asked.

  “It’s worth a try,” Paul said.

  Minutes later, the group was back in front of the sealed door. Walt and Paul held the Lt.Col up by the shoulders. Nicole grabbed his hand and placed it on the scanner. It immediately lit up. An electronic voice sprang to life. “Hand scan, recognized. Place chin on the rest for retinal scan.”

  Walt and Paul heaved the corpse forward as Nicole grabbed the back of its head and positioned its chin on the rest. Within seconds a red light activated and a mesh pattern moved across the clouded over eye. Everyone held their breath as after three scans of the light the voice had not signaled clearance.

  “Well, this isn’t-” Nicole’s words were cut off by the computerized voice.

  “Retinal scan recognized. Please enter the last four of your social security number on the keypad for final authorization.”

  “Oh geez, man! How are we supposed to know that?” Walt asked.

  Realization dawned on Nicole’s face.

  “Keep holding him up, guys,” she said as she searched the pockets of his uniform. In the breast pocket, she found his wallet. She flipped it open and searched through it, finding his military I.D. She tore it out and cast the wallet away. Holding the card in one hand, she punched in “8997” on the pad then stepped back and waited. Everyone stared at the doors for several long seconds.

  “Authorization, approved,” the computer voice intoned, then the large steel door slid open.

  Nicole stood in front of the open door. Behind her, the others gathered. They peered over and around her into the darkened room. Nicole did not step in. The others waited for her cue. She hesitated. She had journeyed across the country with one goal, to gain admittance to this base and the sanctuary it represented. That she had done, but she knew within herself that goal was almost secondary to seeing her father. A greater distance than could be measured in mile markers had separated them, and she thought that finally she was ready to close that distance. She had nurtured the thought that perhaps she finally understood her father just a little bit. She did not kid herself and imagine that it would be enough to send them into each other’s arms, but she had known it would be a start. She wanted to believe that her father had called her and had practically begged her to come to him, not because he needed another trigger puller, but because maybe he finally understood her just a little bit too. She knew that this room must be the nerve center of the entire facility, that if there was any chance that her father had led a group to safety, it would be in this room. Until she stepped into this inner sanctum, while she hesitated and remained on this side of the door, the hope of a real sanctuary and a real reunion was still alive.

  The seconds passed and Nicole stared into the blue glow of the room. Paul shuffled his feet and cleared his throat.

  “Do you think we should—” he said, his words cut short by Ruby gently reaching out and squeezing his hand.

  Paul nodded and remained quiet. Nicole reached up and wiped a tear from her eye.

  “Yes, we need to… let’s go,” she said.

  She took a breath and stepped across the threshold into the blue.

  The room looked like mission control at NASA. That was Nicole’s first thought as she stood just inside the door. To her left was a massive screen that covered most of the center portion of the wall. The fact that the wall soared high above her head and made her feel small testified to its dimensions. It revealed a map of the world. All the countries were clearly delineated and all of them were covered in red. At first, overcome by its sheer size, Nicole thought how impractical it was to color all the countries the same color. Only as her mind adjusted did she begin to realize that the red represented the infection, and its spread was total. She ripped her eyes from the screen and scanned the room. In front of the huge screen were row upon row of workstations. In each row were banks of computers, each with multiple smaller screens of their own. To her right, she saw what looked to be a smaller command station. It was set higher on a platform. Carpeted steps led up to it. Further back from this and up two flights of stairs was a glass enclosed office. The same blue light glowed inside, muted by shades pulled closed. Paul, Jordan, Billy, Ruby, Walt, and Sam slowly spread out, mouths agape at the view before them. Apart from themselves, there was no evidence of anyone else in the room.

  “Nobody touch anything,” Nicole said as she walked up to the raised platform.

  Another bank of computers and screens were arrayed across a semi-circular work station facing the larger screen and overlooking the rows of terminals below. The workstation was clean and organized, save for several abandoned Styrofoam cups strewn across its surface. Nicole looked at the cups. Long dried coffee stains and mold greeted her. She turned, her heart sinking. Behind her was another table. On this were several boxes of donuts, their tops closed. Nicole crept up to the table and flipped one of the lids opened. The donuts were indistinguishable under a thick blanket of mold. Nicole stepped back, her hand went to her mouth and her breath left her. There was no one here to eat the donuts and hadn’t been for a long long time.

  “Everything alright, Nicole?” Sam asked.

  Nicole turned to look at Sam on her left. She looked at him without seeing him. She was about to speak when movement caught her eye. She looked up, beyond Sam, to the office at the top of the stairs. Emblazoned on the solid wood door of the office was written, “Col. Steven Bennett, Commanding Officer”

  “Daddy!” Nicole gasped as she pushed past Sam, flying down the steps of the raised command station and up the stairs to her father’s office.

  Sam watched her go, as did the others from below. Nicole reached the door, but this time she did not hesitate. She grabbed the handle and pushed down. The door swung inward and Nicole rushed in.

  She scanned the room for any sign. To her right was a large circular desk, covered with papers. Foam coffee cups littered the floor. Across the room, another door sat open in a wall of glass, the shades pulled closed. The same blue lights were on in there, and Nicole could see a row of high-back chairs sitting down the length of one side of a long wood conference table.

  “Dad! It’s me, Nicole!” she cried.

  Silence was her only answer. Sadness and stress washed over her. Her lips quivered and she felt her knees grow weak. She stumbled forward and reached out for the end of her father’s desk to steady herself. Her head hung low as the last bit of hope fled. It was all but gone when a movement caught her eye and it flared to life. Through the glass, a shadow moved across the blinds in the conference room. Nicole raised her head and started to run into the room. She came up short when the figure stopped in the doorway. An icy chill pierced through her and her mind locked.

  “No, no, no, no, no… Daddy, no, please… noooo…” she begged. Her words coming out as a wail and a lament. Standing in the doorway was Col. Steven Bennett.
His skin was ashen gray and his eyes were pools of black. His lips were peeled back, revealing his teeth in a horrific grimace. Patches of his close cropped flattop hair were missing. Where they should have been, was torn skin and skull. His uniform was in tatters and hung loosely on his emaciated frame that once was ripples of hardened muscle. The thing that once was Steven Bennett stared coldly at her. In one hand was a .45 semi-automatic pistol. The slide was jammed back revealing an empty breech. Nicole’s voice failed her as her face revealed the near total emotional collapse she was feeling. She shook her head slowly back and forth while still mouthing the words “No” over and over.

  The thing that was Steven Bennett stared at Nicole. It seemed to hesitate, unsure of what to do. It cocked its head at her and continued to just stare. Nicole wept. Seeing it look at her, she pushed off the desk.

  “Daddy, are you in there? It’s me, Nickel, your lucky Nickel. I came, just like you said.”

  She took a couple of steps toward what used to be her father and it tracked her with its blackened orbs. Nicole raised her hands and slowly reached out. What used to be Steven Bennett let its gaze fall from her face to her hands as they came closer. With its nose torn from its face there were no nostrils to flare. The wheeze of the intake of air sounded through the bony nub at the center of its face. Nicole edged closer, the tears flowing freely. She blinked as the gun in its hand fell and hit the floor. What was Steven Bennett raised its now empty right hand and reached out for Nicole’s left. Nicole’s eyes glistened with tears as the thing’s hand touched hers. There was a pause of several seconds as father and daughter reunited.

  Suddenly a change came over the Walker that used to be her father. It let out a gaseous hiss and its hand clamped down on Nicole’s. Nicole flinched as her dream shattered. Fear replaced longing as the Walker lunged for her. Nicole jumped back and fell, landing hard on her back. The fall ripped her hand free from the Walker’s and she crab-walked backwards away. She took her breaths in gasps as she scrambled. Her movements stopped as the back of her head banged against the now closed office door. Her hands reached out and clamored for purchase on the handle. She slapped at it and pulled it down but her weight against the door worked counter to her efforts, her mind too panicked to realize she kept herself locked in. Gradually she began to come to her senses as she watched the Walker drag itself towards her. Nicole’s whimpers began anew and she shook her head back and forth.

  “No, Daddy… please no…” she cried. Her latest pleas, not for what her father had become, but for what she must now do.

  The thing that was Steven Bennett inched toward her in halting steps. Nicole pulled her rifle to her shoulder, her movements slow, the gun feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds. She kicked her feet, trying to move, wanting to run, but her position and the door keeping her there. She pressed the gun against her, but it proved no deterrent.

  “Nooooo,” she cried again, lowering the gun and letting it fall into her lap.

  She turned her head away and took several deep heaving breaths as it approached. It came to her, its feet finally bumping against hers on the floor, but still she did not turn to look. The thing that was Steven Bennett leaned in, its mouth now just inches from her cheek. Nicole’s breathing quickened, rasping in and out of her like the vapor from a steam locomotive. Finally she turned, their faces inches apart.

  “Aaahhhhhh!” Nicole’s scream unleashed her pent grief and rage.

  She shoved the thing that was her father in the chest. It stumbled backwards, its movements awkward and uncertain. It paused for the briefest of seconds, then its jaws opened and it let out a venomous hiss and charged her. Nicole picked up her rifle and sighted down the barrel. The red laser sight remained steady in the center of the Walker’s forehead. It advanced and Nicole closed her eyes and let out her breath. She fired three times in quick succession and the Walker’s head snapped back. A second passed and she fired again. The thing that was Col. Steven Bennett, father of Nicole Bennett, fell to the floor and was motionless.

  Fifty-One

  Paul, Walt, Billy, Jordan, Sam, and Ruby sat in chairs at the consoles just below the raised command platform behind them. Nobody spoke as they fidgeted the minutes away, waiting for Nicole to come back down. Their collective thoughts centered around the positives. Nicole hadn’t immediately come back down, so there must be something keeping her up there, namely a lengthy discussion with her father about the status, both of the base and them as uninvited guests. Like a brick through a plate glass window, the silence was shattered by the four gunshots coming from Steven Bennett’s office.

  Sam leaped from his chair and stared at the office above. He dashed up the stairs, rifle at the ready. The others abandoned Ruby and raced after him. Paul turned and saw Billy and Jordan following.

  “You two stay down here with Ruby!” he said.

  Jordan and Billy stopped.

  “Come to me, Children,” Ruby said.

  Jordan and Billy took up position on either side of Ruby’s chair as Paul raced up the stairs after the others.

  When he reached the top of the stairs, Sam and Walt had already burst inside. Sam took in the scene before him. Nicole was slumped over the motionless form of her father’s body. Sam started to go to her, but Nicole’s screams stopped him in his tracks.

  “Get out!” she cried.

  Sam opened his mouth to say something but words failed him. When her initial command did not remove them, Nicole’s face twisted and her words came out in a snarl.

  “Get out of here, all of you!” Walt moved towards the door, nudging Paul, who was leaning into the room, out of the way. Sam took a single step forward.

  “Nicole—” he said.

  “Go!” Nicole screamed again.

  The ferocity of her tone rattled Sam and he jumped, his face blanching. Slowly he turned and left the office.

  “We’ll be just downstairs, if you need us, Nicole,” he said as he eased the office door closed.

  Nicole turned back and buried her head against her father, all senses blunted in the face of a wall of bitter emotion.

  ☣

  An eternity later, Nicole raised her head. She stared around her, drained from emotional fatigue. She pushed herself away from her father and stood up. Leaving her rifle on the floor, she saw the large desk near the door and shuffled over to it. She stared down at the desk, with its blanket of jumbled papers. It wasn’t like her father at all. He was always so organized, so particular about his things. A quote sprung to her mind, from where she didn’t know. “A place for everything, and everything in its place.” Amidst the chaos, she saw a sticky note on the mouse pad of her father’s laptop. On the note was her name. Nicole reached out and took it, the motion waking up the computer. On the screen was an open video file with a large “Play” button below it. Nicole slumped down in her father’s chair and stared at the screen. Finally, she moved the cursor over and pushed the “Play” button.

  An image of her father appeared. He was sitting where she was now. He looked tired and worn, his uniform disheveled. Nicole looked away, her eyes falling to the body on the floor. Fresh hot tears welled up in her eyes. Her father’s voice brought her back to the computer screen. Steven Bennett took a breath and started to speak.

  “This briefing constitutes the last official record of the events that lead to the Human Extinction Level Loss… Hell… we used to joke at that, but…”

  Steven Bennett looked away and became lost in thought for several seconds. He gathered his resolve and looked back at the camera.

  “It started off as an effort to reduce casualties on the battlefield. I want that to be known. Scientists and the military were working together here, to develop regenerative agents that would interrupt the death process and allow for rapid rejuvenation of life functions in the face of massive trauma. We had achieved great advances, promising advances in this regard. To say we had achieved total success would be an overstatement and there were… side effects with the early trials that w
arranted the R&D being conducted in this the most secret and secure of military bases. To say that every precaution was taken is not an overstatement. Everyone involved knew the risks and was fully on-board with what it meant to…”

  Steven Bennett looked down at his hands in his lap. After a long pause he gripped the armrests of his chair and stared back into the camera. Nicole had never seen her father like this and it unnerved her. She kept her eyes locked on the screen.

  “To say we got excited about the most recent results again is not an overstatement. Subjects that had flat-lined were… reanimated. That was one aspect of what we tried to accomplish. The other was enhanced unit cohesion. In the fog of war, the breakdown of unit integrity can be almost as crippling as human casualty.”

  Col. Bennett smirked and looked down at his hands again before continuing.

  “Everyone at one time or another has looked at a baby and thought, maybe even said, that baby is so cute I could just eat them up. Our scientists thought that notion may be a residual concept from humanity’s ancient tribal ancestors. They think that it is a latent response that compels someone to want to be one with another. This, they say, is reflected in cultures who would eat some part of their prey or enemy in an effort to gain their power. In our modern culture, those serial killers that have eaten their victims are believed to have done so out of a desire to be one with them. This was all theory until we discovered the presence of certain chemicals in the brain that triggered these feelings. It was our belief that we could re-engineer those chemicals, and apply them to our goal of supplementing the fighting spirit of the American armed forces with intense feelings of fidelity to the unit, even in the face of the most extreme cases of battlefield chaos… minus the eating, of course. Care was taken, that these desired effects could not be transferred to our enemies. The serum resided in the blood and gave animus to a severely injured body while maintaining extreme unit fidelity. The serum was structured in such a way that should our forces experience severe casualties in close combat, their blood could not transfer any of the animus or fidelity properties to the enemy. We realized we were only half way there, when the reanimated subjects showed no signs of rejuvenation. That is to say we had achieved animus in the body, but not in a healing way, and certainly not in a cognitive way. All the safeguards in the world proved ineffectual in the face of what can only be called human cowardice on the part of one of the techs assigned to the specimens lab. I want the name Seaman Francis Delroney to become a byword of shame. It is to him that I lay-”