Contamination Box Set [Books 0-7]

by Piperbrook, T. W.

  “Where are you headed?”

  Cromwell paused for a second.

  “I just received orders to head to Salt Lake City,” he said finally.

  “You did?”

  “Yeah. Actually, I meant to tell you earlier. They’ll be rotating a new person in to cover my shift.’

  Hopper shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then swallowed. It looked like he had something else to say.

  “What’s wrong, Hopper?”

  “Nothing. I was just hoping that I would get a call myself.”

  Cromwell stared at the man, getting angrier by the second. Who did this guy think he was? Not only was he one of the weaker Agents, but he was also rude and presumptuous on top of it. Hopper played with his hands, growing uncomfortable.

  Cromwell stared at him for a moment, catching a glimpse of his trachea, and then looked away.

  He had an idea.

  Perhaps he could take the man with him, and then when no one was looking, he could slice him up for practice and leave him on the street. Cromwell laughed. He coughed to cover it up.

  “You know what? I’ll put in a good word for you,” Cromwell said.

  “Really? Thanks,” the other Agent mumbled. It looked like he was sweating. His eyes darted around nervously, and then he took off down the hall.

  What a strange man, Cromwell thought. It’ll be good to get rid of him.

  The cargo bay of the compound was filled with vehicles. Among the fleet were two rows of SUVs, several cargo vans, and a line of pickup trucks.

  The back wall contained several workstations filled with tools, three lifts, and shelves filled with spare parts. The compound had several mechanics—all Agents working for the cause—and they helped to keep the vehicles in working order. On the far side of the bay were several storerooms. Each contained a variety of weapons and ammunition. The compound’s equipment had been purchased securely through both foreign and domestic sources, all untraceable in the event it fell into the wrong hands.

  Cromwell stepped through the doorway and surveyed the room, watching as his fellow Agents prepared several cargo vans for the upcoming journey to Salt Lake City. After a few seconds of taking it all in, he walked across the bay, his boots clapping on the concrete, and joined the other soldiers.

  One of the men stopped when he noticed Cromwell.

  “Hey, I heard you’re joining us.” The Agent’s name was Roberts. He motioned to the rear doors of one of the two cargo vans. “We could use a hand loading a few cases of food into the back.”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  Cromwell walked over to one of the storage rooms and opened the door. Inside were cardboard boxes full of uncontaminated products. He browsed the selection, finally choosing a few that had been marked as dried fruits. At the moment, food was the last thing on his mind.

  He carried the boxes to the back of the van and put them inside. Roberts gave him a nod. Cromwell looked over at the van next to him, and noticed that Hopper was now present, helping to load it. He smirked.

  “How many people are going?” Cromwell asked Roberts, already knowing the answer.

  “For now, we’re taking two vans. There will be four of us in each of them. From what I’ve heard, things are going as planned in the city, so we aren’t expecting too many survivors.”

  “That’s great news.”

  “Sure is. Have you been to one of the affected areas yet?”

  “No, I haven’t actually. This will be my first time.”

  “Let me tell you, it’s a lot of fun.” Roberts laughed, and Cromwell noticed a familiar twinkle in the man’s eye. “I think you’ll appreciate it.”

  When the men had finished loading the vans, they jumped inside. Two men took the front seats, and another rode in back.

  “Cromwell, you mind getting in the back?” Roberts asked.

  He shook his head and climbed inside.

  “Wait!” Roberts said.

  Cromwell stopped.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something, Agent?”

  Roberts reached into a side compartment of the van and pulled out a white jacket. He handed it to Cromwell, who slipped it on and buttoned the front.

  “Thanks. It fits perfectly.”

  PART THREE – TURN THE TIDE

  13

  Sam pulled off of the side of the road and cut the engine. All around them mountains cropped the side of the highway, green trees springing forth between the crevices. Just outside the SUV, a brown sign rose six feet above the dirt.

  “Salt Lake City – 2 Miles”

  “I wish we didn’t have to go through the city,” Delta said. “Isn’t there a way that we can get around?”

  “None that I can see. Unfortunately, the compound is right on the other side.”

  Sam drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Even a few miles away from the city, he was already feeling apprehensive. Delta climbed in the back to retrieve the rest of their weapons, placing them within easy reach.

  “Are you ready for this?” he asked.

  “What choice do we have?”

  He bit his lip and nodded. One of his main concerns was getting stuck somewhere in the city and being forced to abandon the vehicle. They had already passed a slew of empty cars on the way in, along with a few meandering creatures. If they were forced out on foot, Sam was afraid they would be overwhelmed in seconds, even with the weapons they had.

  “Here goes nothing,” he said.

  He accelerated back onto the highway, kicking up a cloud of gravel, and headed toward the city limits. According to the map, they wouldn’t need to exit for a while, and could make their way through much of Salt Lake City on the highway.

  The first several miles were clear; they only passed an occasional car or truck on the side of the road, and all the exits appeared unblocked. Overhead, the sun had continued to progress in the skyline, reaching its apex above them and sending rays of heat onto the highway below.

  Sam wondered if the infection hadn’t hit yet. Perhaps they had made it to the city with time to spare, and they would be able to make their journey unimpeded. The thought was a welcome one, and he did he did his best to contain his optimism.

  A few miles later, his hopes were destroyed.

  A tractor-trailer and several cars had been overturned, barricading the highway. Sam let his foot off the gas and came to a stop. He scoped out the opposite side of the interstate, but the remnants spilled over into the southbound lanes as well. A few small fires had broken out among the wreckage, and several of the creatures were already moving towards the SUV.

  They had reached an impasse.

  Sam looked behind them. About a hundred feet back they had passed an exit into the city. He threw his arm over the seat and put the car in reverse. The engine whirred as the car shot backwards. After overshooting the ramp, Sam switched gears, put the car into drive, and then veered off the exit.

  The first few streets were deserted. Sam noticed a few cars parked on the side of the road, but there were no signs of life from within.

  As they headed deeper into the city, Sam saw an increase in activity. Windows were smashed, doors were open and hanging off hinges, and the creatures were running amok. A few stumbled into the roadway as they passed, arms outstretched, and Sam turned to avoid them. Both he and Delta had rolled up the windows, but even with the glass barrier, they felt far from safe.

  With each passing block the destruction multiplied, and he found himself swerving to avoid the rubble that had found its way onto the city streets. The roadsides had come alive with an undercurrent of movement and moans, and Sam found himself frantically searching in front of him, hoping that they wouldn’t be suddenly blocked in. He heard a bang to his left, and looked over in time to see a mucus-covered hand slide d
own the glass of the driver’s side window.

  “This isn’t good,” he said.

  Delta gripped her pistol, scanning the roadside around them.

  “We’re going to get trapped, Sam.”

  Sensing the vehicle, the creatures had begun to advance from surrounding doorways and alleys, heading toward the street. According to the speedometer, the SUV was going twenty-five miles per hour, but Sam’s speed diminished as the debris around them increased.

  “Can you get out the atlas?” Sam asked.

  Delta fumbled in the glove box and pulled out the sheet of paper. Sam glanced over at it. On the front was an overview of the highway; on the back was a map of the city.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  His eyes darted around the street, finally settling on the green sign at the end of the next block. Outside, the groaning had increased in volume.

  “600 South. I think all the roads are numbered,” he said.

  “Which street should we—”

  Before Delta could finish her question, something smashed against the passenger’s side door. She dropped the map and clung to her pistol. Outside, one of the creatures had flung itself at the vehicle, bouncing off of it and falling back onto the pavement. Several more trampled over it, groping for the door.

  Sam had been forced to decelerate again. In front of them, two cars were parked sideways in the road, leaving only a thin gap between them.

  “I don’t know if we’re going to fit,” he said.

  He aimed the SUV between the two vehicles and braced for impact. The front bumper collided with the rear quarter panel of a Honda Civic, pushing it a few inches forward, and the other side scraped the bumper of a Subaru Legacy. Sam revved the engine and the tires spun. Around them, the creatures had caught up to the vehicle, and they slapped their hands against the side.

  “Shit! Come on!” he yelled.

  He smelled the rubber from the tires, and the tires emitted a screeching sound that echoed off the surrounding buildings. Sam let his foot off the gas, and then rammed it down again. With a sickening groan, the SUV moved, squeezing between the two vehicles, and then somehow slipped past. They continued down the road.

  Sam breathed a sigh of relief, watching the swarm disappear in the rearview mirror.

  The next few blocks looked clear.

  “I don’t think we’re going to be that lucky again,” he said, sweating.

  Delta picked up the map.

  “I think we can stay on this for a bit,” she said.

  Sam picked up speed, using the open roadway to gain distance between the car and the creatures behind them. As he drove, he kept an eye on the intersecting streets, gauging which ones may be safe should they come to a roadblock. Most of them contained hordes of the infected.

  None promised safe travel.

  The road ahead contained an array of high-rise apartment buildings, most with balconies on the upper floors. The creatures had taken residence on many of them, hands clawing the air as they watched the vehicle drive on the street below them. If circumstances were different, Sam might have taken them for a crowd of happy spectators, waving their arms and cheering at the scene below.

  As the SUV continued, some of the infected jumped down from overhead, smashing into the pavement in front of them. Sam watched with concern, afraid that one may land on the vehicle.

  As if on cue, something struck the roof with a crash. The ceiling caved, the metal pushed inwards, and Sam was forced to crouch in his seat. Delta screamed as one of the creatures slid down the windshield, smearing its blood-covered hands on the glass.

  It watched them for a second with hungry eyes, and then pounded on the window to get to them. Sam hit the wipers in desperation, but it grabbed hold of the blades, ripping them off of the car. He slammed on the brakes and halted the vehicle. The creature slid a few inches but remained on the hood.

  “We’re going to have to shoot it off!” he shouted.

  He made for his pistol, rolled down the window, and aimed the gun. Right before he fired, the creature grabbed hold of the end. The bullet punched a gaping hole in its hand, and it squirmed and retracted its arm, taking the gun with it. The pistol skittered off the front of the hood and onto the street.

  Sam jabbed the button for the automatic window, but the creature was already reaching inside.

  All around them, things began dropping from the balconies, bodies falling like rain onto the pavement. Sam wrestled with the arm that was reaching in the window, finally managing to push it back outside.

  “We have to go!” Delta shrieked.

  Having peeled themselves off the street, the creatures had begun to approach the SUV, hissing and spitting. Mottled hands raked the exterior, and steamed breath fogged the glass.

  Sam tried to accelerate, but the tires were stuck on limbs and bodies. As the horde surrounded the car, he choked back tears, fearing the car would be their tomb.

  Hopper stared out the window at the Utah desert. After several months inside, he was glad to finally be free from the restricting walls of the compound. Although they were allowed breaks, the Agents rarely went outside, both due to the heat and the unwanted attention they might draw to the building.

  At least, that’s what the Agent leaders had told them.

  Hopper wasn’t sure what to believe. In light of recent events, he found himself questioning everything he had been told and everything going on around him.

  A few hours earlier, he had followed Cromwell again, this time to his room. Somehow, he had managed to slip his foot against the door just before it closed, leaving a narrow gap in the frame. Through the opening, he had listened to his shift mate place call after call on a private phone.

  What he had heard had shocked him. From the sound of it, Cromwell was much more than just another Agent.

  In fact, it sounded like he was the goddamn mastermind behind the entire plan.

  Hopper had been shocked at first, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He recalled the man’s frequent breaks, his trips to various parts of the compound, and his visit to the secret jail cells.

  If Cromwell was really the leader, then he had been very good at keeping it under wraps, passing himself off as just another man working for the cause.

  From what Hopper could tell, no one else had any clue. Even if the Agent leaders were aware, they definitely hadn’t passed the information along to their underlings.

  Now, as he sat in the back of the cargo van headed for Salt Lake City, Hopper wondered what he should do with the information. Did it really change anything? Either way, he was in the same position he had been in before: a subordinate in a plan greater than himself, with the prospect of great reward if the plan succeeded.

  Or so he had been told.

  He looked out the front windshield, watching the cargo van in front of them—the one that contained Cromwell—weave on the desert road.

  For now, he decided, he would keep the knowledge to himself. Perhaps it was something that would come in handy later.

  14

  “I think it’s time to abandon ship!” Sam yelled.

  The SUV shook. All around them, hands plastered the glass, the windows obscured by the bodies of the creatures. Delta held a pistol in each hand, her eyes filled with terror.

  “Where are we going to go? They have us surrounded!”

  He swiveled in all directions, looking for a gap in the masses. Out the back window, he saw a few creatures climbing the glass, and he heard the thud-thud-thud of footfalls on the roof.

  “I think our best bet is to go out the back. Shoot our way out.”

  “Are you kidding me?” she asked.

  “It’s either that or we stay here. Any minute these windows are going to shatter, and then we won’t have a
choice.”

  He unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed into the backseat, gathering up their weapons. The SUV shook even harder. For a split second he thought it might tip.

  “Hurry! We don’t have much time!”

  Delta scrambled to join him. Sam grabbed a shotgun, and tucked a knife and a pistol in his pants. The two leapt over into the back storage area, stepping around the cardboard boxes they had stored there.

  “What about the food?” Delta asked.

  Realizing she had a point, Sam tore open the closest box and stuffed a few rations in his pocket. Delta followed his lead. After that, he made his way to the rear door.

  “On three?” Sam looked at her.

  She nodded, tears in her eyes.

  “We’ll be OK,” he said. “Just put your head down, and keep shooting.”

  He reached for the handle, hands trembling, and then pushed the hatch upwards. Several creatures were in the way, and they stepped back as if confused, and then poked their fingers through the crack.

  The door whirred as it tried to open, and he gave it a swift kick, sending a few of the things reeling backwards. Having created an opening, he fired a shotgun blast into the cluster—the blast almost deafening—and then jumped out into the street.

  The gunshot connected with several creatures at once, sending them sprawling to the pavement. He leapt over the bodies and kept moving, forcing his way through the gap. The cluster of creatures was about six deep, and he fired again—first in front of him, then a blast to each side. Fragments of the things sprayed back in their direction, and Sam wiped his face. One of the things grabbed hold of his jacket, and he squirmed free, wriggling his way out of it and leaving the creature holding his torn garment. Now clad in only his t-shirt, he darted forward to escape the area.