THE LAST
Book 5 in the Lazarus Strain chronicles
By Sean Deville
www.severedpress.com
Copyright 2020 by Sean Deville
Who would want to be prey in a world full of hunters?
- Alexia Purdy
MI13
Colonel Nick Carter
Jeff
Natasha
UK Civilians
Andy
Jessica Dunn
Judy Dunn
Tom Dunn
Michelle Knight
UK Military
Captain Beckington
Captain Stephen “Mad Dog” Haggard
Sergeant O'Donnell
General Woolington
Corporal Tommy Clifford
US Government/ Military
David Campbell - DIA
Jacqueline Fairchild - US President
Captain John Fairclough - USMC
Private Richard Howell
Dr Jee Lee - US CDC
Lorraine Winters - DIA
US Civilians
Clarice Reece
Elizabeth Wood
For Immediate distribution
25.08.19
Final Report on virus H4N2G7 by the WHO Executive Board:
Due to the speed with which H4N2G7 has developed and spread across the planet, international cooperation to stop the spread of the virus has been negligible. Indeed, this Executive Board has found that it has been impossible to formulate a coordinated response. Much of this was due to the initial virus hitting Bangkok, resulting in the bulk of those attending the World Congress on Virology and Infectious Diseases becoming some of the first to be infected. This disseminated the virus to the majority of western and Asian countries, allowing the virus to hit the infrastructures of the very organisations that would be key in the battle against it.
The virus continues to spread unchecked, multiple governments now having collapsed. The WHO itself is no longer a functioning body due to the infection rates amongst its own staff. This will thus be the last report by the Executive Board. Worldwide, we estimate that nearly seven hundred million people have become infected. Death rates are close to one hundred percent, and we also have worrying reports of interspecies transmission. Without a global distribution of an affective countermeasure against the virus, we anticipate a complete breakdown of the planet’s ecosystem as well as total population destruction due to the resurrection capabilities of the virus. This will happen in a matter of weeks, made worse by the almost indiscriminate use of nuclear weapons by some countries.
We have thus categorised H4N2G7 an extinction level event, and we again urge surviving countries to share any and all knowledge of the virus whilst there is still the infrastructure worldwide to allow that. We also beseech the nuclear nations to resist the temptation to unleash any more of their nuclear arsenal upon the world. Mankind cannot survive the armies of the undead and a nuclear winter.
Dr Dhru Abara, Director General WHO
26.08.19
Leeds, UK
Even the most harmless of creatures now had the potential to become the ultimate predator. That was the situation humanity now found itself in, and it was during his recuperation that Andy finally realised humanity was no longer at the top of the food chain. Andy was amazed that the thought hadn’t occurred to him before. All the advantages technology had provided were being stripped away by something that couldn’t even be seen by the naked eye. Looking around the former classroom, now filled with beds for those unwell from anything other than Lazarus, it occurred to Andy that this school would never again be used to teach the ways of life to young and malleable minds. Mankind had reached the peak of their civilisation and were now crashing to an inglorious end.
That was another thing that had occurred to him…since leaving his home to work as per the terms of his forced conscription, Andy hadn’t seen any children. Where were they all being kept? Were children an asset or a burden now?
As individuals, humans had always been vulnerable to the forces of nature, even with training and weapons. But as a species they hadn’t, until now, encountered a threat that science and persistence couldn’t overcome. Perhaps it was therefore fitting that it was science that put them into their present predicament, the artificially constructed virus turning the world’s cities into an already decaying collection of charnel houses. With the rumoured use of nukes, some were further being transformed into huge crematoriums for the remnants of man. If the zombies didn’t get you, the radiation would. At this rate, there would be nothing left for people to try and salvage.
You kind of had to wonder what the point of going on was.
The woman in the bed next to him was asleep, the one called Michelle. She was a curiosity to Andy, nothing more. There wasn’t any attraction there, the existing apocalypse having a detrimental effect on his libido, which truth be told hadn’t been that high originally anyway. That went a long way to explain why he was in his mid-forties and presently unattached. Instead, his interest in the woman lay in the intriguing question of how long she would survive. He had already seen first-hand how vulnerable she was, prey to those who saw the opportunity the breakdown in the social order brought them. It was clear that she was unable to look after herself without some sort of supportive structure. People like her stood no chance, even in places which tried to pretend some sort of order existed. Places like Leeds, which were now run by the power of the gun.
Michelle was a creation of a society that allowed its citizens to become soft, pliable and useless. Nay, it encouraged such people to develop like that, the state eager to take on the mantle of care giver whilst at the same time slowly detonating the support structures that were supposed to be there to catch the fallen and disadvantaged. The millions in the west who had tried to buffer themselves from the traumas of life through trigger warnings, safe spaces and the elimination of offensive language were now, perhaps, the least equipped to survive in this new world. It was like some huge Darwinian experiment, survival of the fittest now the mantra of the survivors. No matter how thick their doors were, or how well stocked their cupboards, the weak were a doomed species that were destined to be consumed by the insatiable undead.
The problem with looking after number one is that wasn't going to help the whole defeat the zombie menace. To have any chance, mankind had to work together, whilst sacrificing the dead wood. To defend those who could not help themselves stretched resources that were already dwindling.
If humanity survived this, it would be a harder and less forgiving species. The Lazarus virus infected indiscriminately, but for those who escaped its initial onslaught, only the hardiest would be able to battle against the zombie menace. That was the challenge with the initial onslaught of Lazarus. It had been broad, burning into the various agencies and organisations that allowed mankind to rule the globe. It had taken the strongest as well as the weakest, millions infected before the realities of the zombie dawn were fully realised. Despite the hope that a city such as Leeds brought, could there really be any way to survive the onslaught that was heading towards all of them? Sooner or later, the undead would come, and when they did, they would arrive in numbers almost unimaginable.
Too many people had relied on the state to protect them in their old life. Who alive knew how to survive without electricity, supermarkets, or running water? Not even Andy could count himself in that category. That was probably why the people of Leeds had acquiesced so readily to the new command structure, rolling over and letting the interim military authority come down on the city with its ruthless ferocity. People needed order, needed to be told what to do and when to d
o it. They demanded the comfort of knowing the lights would be on, and the streets would be safe for their children. Even the most lawless realised that only the state could provide them with the comforts they craved because as tempting as anarchy was, that was merely survival. And if survival was all you had, there was no room for anything else. No happiness, no joy, no hope. It was a pitiful existence that ripped everything that was good out of people.
There was no nanny state now, just remnants of it, led by a hand clad in an iron gauntlet that would smash down on everyone and anything that was deemed to be a threat. The message was clear. Behave yourself and do exactly as you are told, and you will be kept safe. Give up your liberty for the promise of security. Rock the boat, and you will be made to regret your actions.
That was Andy’s job now, the front line against those foolish enough to believe that some sort of rebellion could be fashioned from the frightened remnants of the people of Leeds. From what Andy had seen, the approach put forward by the city’s military commander appeared to be working. The population of Leeds was cowed, compliant and terrified both of the army and the zombie menace. Those who sought to ferment revolt had already been purged. Andy still didn’t know how he felt about all that. Killing another person wasn’t supposed to be so easy, but with legal authority behind your actions, Andy found he enjoyed the thrill of it.
He hoped his fainting spell hadn’t damaged his standing to any great degree because he found himself wanting to get back out there and practice his new found art. It wasn’t that he had unlocked some hidden serial killer gene you understand. Just walking up to someone and shooting them randomly in the head didn’t really have any appeal for him. It was the whole package he wanted, the rush of combat that filled him with a delight he had rarely experienced. Zombies or people, he was happy to take either so long as there was some sort of action involved. Would he still feel the same if the true horrors of war were shown to him, though? It wasn’t like the people he was rounding up ever shot back or put up any real kind of resistance. And whilst he had faced the undead, it had always been in a situation where he came out on top.
How would he feel if he were to face the true strength of a horde?
The apocalypse had turned him into a killer, and he was glad about it. A killer had a chance in a land plagued by the dead. A killer was unlikely to fall foul to the other killers that were now out there waiting for the weak and the naïve to cross their paths. Andy himself was dangerous, and because of that there was a risk staring him in the face. He had embraced his shadow, but if he wasn’t careful, he knew he could fall into an abyss where he came to enjoy the slaughter a little too much.
From his recent experience, the discovery of his secret inner self was an artificial wall that he had been forced to demolish. When he had shot Iain, it had been out of desperate necessity to defend himself, the satisfaction that followed tempered by the fear that he had been fatally exposed to Lazarus. The second death at his hands had been less urgent, a choice made by a calculating, rational mind that had little to concern itself with the plague so many were vulnerable to. There was no denying it, he had enjoyed ending that life, ridding the planet of a lowlife, a no-good parasite on society. Iain’s death had been self-defence. Killing the scrote who was threatening to burn down people's houses had been an absolute pleasure.
That could have been enough for him. If he’d been allowed to retreat into his home, the beast within him might have shrunk back down into the darkness of his unconscious, only to resurface when survival demanded it. But then the army had come, insisting that he help defend the city which ultimately resulted in him voluntarily shooting half a dozen men and women in the back of the head. Every twitch of his trigger finger had been a delight, any horror in his actions undetectable.
His subconscious mind might have rebelled as often occurred with those forced into combat situations, but when would it have the chance to? He certainly wouldn’t be plagued with night terrors, his dream time completely engulfed by the horrors of the desert. As strange as it seemed, the torment and the torture of that place was perhaps acting as a buffer against Andy’s own inner demons. When you were flayed alive by the very wind every time you went to sleep, murdering another human being didn’t seem so difficult.
Sitting up in his makeshift hospital bed, the outside air was punctured by a shot that was quickly followed by two more. Was this further justice being administered? It was easy to feel uneasy about the abandonment of the courts and the lawyers. There was a reason the British Common law system had developed the way it had, a system of checks and balances to ensure that the guilty were punished while allegedly protecting those innocent of the crimes they were suspected of. None of that seemed to matter anymore. When there was the constant threat of total annihilation, you could kind of understand why execution was now such a tempting and formidable tool for oppression and control.
Likely, if the zombies could be kept at bay, things would temper somewhat, the original shock and awe needed to gain domination unlikely to be accepted by the populace once safety was established. Andy hoped those in charge realised this. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, the interim military government would quickly run out of viable reasons to kill their citizens. Even a disarmed and demoralised population could rise up if their oppression got too onerous.
A viable and stable society needed people to feel safe from outside and within. People needed hope that those protecting them were out for their own well-being, or else the inherent nature of humans to fight against oppression would start to surface, despite the most lawless and most violent being purged. Not all those wearing the green and purple markers would be able to accept a continuing slaughter past the first few days. It would be interesting to see how the city shaped itself over the next few weeks. What would they become if they could hold off the zombie threat?
A female doctor came in to check up on her patients. She had been there when Andy had escaped the prison of the mind that he had been dragged to by The Woman of Skulls. That had been a precarious moment, falling asleep in the middle of a field after helping kill a whole swathe of infecteds. That was what those who carried the virus were now being called, Infecteds. It was a dangerous thing to do, labelling a whole class of people. It helped dehumanise them, made them apart from the norm. Made them the other. The other could always be easily targeted by those who needed to point the finger of blame at someone. Neighbours, family and friends were difficult to castigate, but the other could always be shunned by society.
The Undead themselves seemed to have acquired the nickname of Dead Heads and Jerkers, the latter from the way they ran. Andy would stick to zombies if it was okay with everyone else.
“Doctor, when can I get out of here?” Andy asked, noticing that she was wearing a name badge that said Holleron. Like him, she was blessed with the purple wristband. The people in charge really needed to rethink the long-term use of those. It wouldn’t be long before a black market in them started up, and then the trust in the system would quickly evaporate.
“I think I’m safe to discharge you,” Holleron answered. Andy was going to say something else, but with her eyes, the doctor gave him a look that told him to be cautious. Right then, Gary walked into the room, the police officer’s face as stern and unforgiving as usual. He would have been wasted sat behind a desk which is what his sergeant stripes suggested his previous role had been. Just stick him in a room with most suspects and they would be babbling within minutes. Even from a distance, the man’s stare was intimidating.
“You gave us a scare out there, Andy,” Gary said. Andy was surprised that he felt guilty in letting his team down. He wanted to give Gary the truth about what had happened, but he had already decided to avoid such talk.
“I scared myself. I need to look after myself better.” That’s it, make it seem like it was just fatigue or some random event that could happen to anyone. Don't go ranting about desert landscape haunted by The Woman of Skulls. Can you imagine how that w
ould sound to the average person?
“You men work too hard. I’m surprised I don’t get more of you in here,” Holleron said, trying to help buffer Andy’s recent condition with a logical reason for his collapse. She didn’t look at Gary for fear her eyes would give something away. Men like him had a habit of sucking secrets out of your soul.
“He good to go?” Gary asked the doctor. It was clear it was more an order than a question.
“I was just about to discharge him,” Holleron responded, giving Gary what he wanted to hear. She turned, gave Gary as pleasant a smile as she was able, and made her way past him out of the room. Gary didn’t follow her with his head. Instead, his eyes continued to burn into Andy.
“Get off your arse then,” Gary ordered, “there’s another job for us.”
“What do you need me for?” Andy rose from the uncomfortable bed he had been given. He wondered when he would be allowed to return to his own slumber in his own home.
“We are hitting Harehills tonight. Cleaning out the last of the scum.” Harehills was a part of Leeds within the safe zone and was renowned for being a crime infested shit hole, at least by British standards. Something resembling a smile crept onto Gary’s face. “It’s my old stomping ground, and plenty of people there need to be placed on the other side of the wire.” The other side of the wire, a slang phrase for evicting people from Leeds. That eviction was either by helicopter, dropped near a herd of Undead to redirect the Horde’s flow, or evicted from life by a bullet in the back of the head. Andy was well versed in the latter technique, having clearly mastered it.
“How many are we rounding up?”
“A lot,” Gary said. “It’s probably the last criminal elements left in the city. After tonight, our job might not be so interesting.” Andy reached down to pick his coat off the chair next to his bed. When he turned around, Gary was close in and personal, the sergeant grabbing his arm lightly, bringing his face in so that Andy could smell the fetid, alcohol infused breath. Gary drank, not as much as he could but perhaps more than was warranted. Stocks of alcohol were one of the first things the military seized when they took over.
The Lazarus Strain Chronicles (Book 5): The Last Page 1