Omega Virus_Beta Hour

by Jake A. Strife

  OMEGA VIRUS: BETA HOUR

  Jake A. Strife

  OMEGA VIRUS: BETA HOUR

  JAKE A. STRIFE

  www.JakeAStrife.com

  Copyright © 2016 by Jason Norby

  Cover Design © 2016 by Misty Norby

  Cover Art © MLV MEDIA

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  Thank you Misty, for always supporting me, and never letting me give up.

  About The Author

  Jake is a YA writer, character artist, role-player, and avid gamer. His collection of novels are in the sci-fi/horror or fantasy genres. Throughout the years, he has written multiple short stories and various screenplays. Jake was born in the `village´ of Bellaire, Ohio. As the population shrank, he knew he needed to get out or get caught in the trap of the average small town-if you don´t get out young, you don´t get out at all. The earliest influences on his writing were survival horror video games, and sci-fi/fantasy novels. It was the thrill of a good scare and abilities above and beyond the scope of physics that drove his imagination. For many years, Jake focused only on his artistic abilities and put writing aside. He eventually enrolled in an art school, but after taking a Story Writing course, he became serious about his work and eventually switched to Creative Writing at another university. He was twice published in the schoolís magazine, The Aviator, for his works, Book of Fate and Omega Virus. Jake spends most of his time with his wife, and is always writing, drawing, or gaming.

  LISTEN.

  I always loved video games, and was good at them. Before, I even planned on majoring in Game Design; Survival Horror games were my favorite! So naturally, I thought I'd kick ass if the Zombie Apocalypse ever came.

  AND THEN IT DID.

  Now the virus runs through my veins. I can smell my friendsí flesh and blood. I'm infected, and they know it. It's only a matter of time; yet, they won't let me end my life. They think there's still a chance.

  MY FRIENDS ARE WRONG.

  The world is a Corpse-filled wasteland. There are no extra lives, no continues, no cheat codes, one bite, and it's Game Over.

  BE WARNED: THIS. IS. NO. GAME.

  LEVEL 01 - SURVIVAL HORROR

  Groans came from the nearby shufflers. As a fellow slave to normalcy, I gave them my full support. Mornings at Milpeg High sucked. My locker jammed. I wedged my fingers into the sliver of an opening and pulled harder. The door creaked in protest but held fast.

  “Ow! Son-of-a!” I yanked my hand back. A dot of red formed on my finger. “Wonderful.”

  Programming class made my Junior year better. The joy of being able to create and manipulate a world had become second to none, yet the locker of doom stood in my way. I needed that book. I slammed my head into the door and sighed.

  “Hey, Zach?”

  I froze. What did someone want with me?

  I looked back with caution; it had to be a trap. Tiffany Gainsborough stood a few feet away with her hands on her hips, cheeks red, and out of breath.

  Every day she wore baggy jeans, some shade of violet t-shirt, and the same black baseball cap turned backward, atop her hip-length hair; an incredible piece of work.

  Both of us being almost-loners, I likely had nothing to fear. She did have a few friends. They called themselves, “The Gamer's Guild.”

  “Um, hey Tiff,” I said.

  She rolled her eyes. “Don't call me Tiff. Only friends call me that.”

  “Tiffan—”

  “Stop. It's weird even talking to you.”

  My heart sank. So much for meaningful conversation.

  “You're a nerd, right?” she asked.

  “I'm not a nerd per say.”

  “Follow me. I think there's something you'll want to see.” Tiffany pointed at the hall to the alley. A trap after all. Her friends probably wanted to beat me up.

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Why should I trust you?”

  “Don't be stupid. It wasn't my idea to get you. She just said you play survival horror games.”

  Two things sparked my interest. One, Tiffany said 'she,' meaning another girl. And two, I loved video games.

  “Are you coming, or not?” Tiffany tapped her foot.

  “Yes, of course!”

  With a sigh, she turned to leave. Maybe I sounded too excited. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and followed.

  “I hope it doesn't go,” Tiffany said. “And I hope those idiots haven't touched the stupid dead thing.”

  “What?”

  “You know, it could have crawled away.”

  “Wait, you said dead. Dead things don't just—”

  “You'll see,” she said.

  Tiffany broke into a jog, and I did my best to keep up. Running sucked.

  Her urgency unnerved me. She grabbed my arm and pulled me down the hall to the exit. Without losing momentum, she kicked the door opened. I nearly tripped as we made it to the empty alley. Nothing stirred or made a sound, not even a bird.

  Tiffany snickered. “Figures. They must have led it somewhere.”

  “I'm confused. You said something was dead. You can't lead a dead thing anywhere.”

  Scraping and a thud came from around the corner of the building.

  Tiffany pulled me again. “Come on.”

  We ran directly into her group: Dave Carnby, a short, fat guy with an affinity for dragon button-downs; Jeff Mason, a tall, tough-looking senior; and finally Jessie Bluefield, my Freshman year crush!

  My heart leaped into my throat. We made eye contact for a brief moment before I looked away. How could I face her? I couldn't! Not since an incident at her birthday party some years back. One bad swing of a piñata stick and you can never talk to a girl again.

  “You brought that loser?” Dave snickered. “Jessie, don’t you stalk him around town?”

  “N-no!” Jessie argued. “I’ve never stalked anyone. I swear. I just asked for Zach because he knows about this stuff.”

  “Wait, what?” I cocked my head.

  Jessie and I locked eyes, but she quickly looked away, her cheeks turning rosy red.

  Beneath our feet, a dark and crusty substance led to the basement window. A coagulated blood trail? Only dead things had coagulated blood.

  “You threw something dead into the basement, didn’t you?” I asked.

  “It looked like a mushy ball of flesh.” Jessie said. “We saw it just as it dropped through the window!”

  Jeff shrugged. “I personally think it looked like road kill. There was no need to get you.”

  I crossed my arms. “This is some kind of joke, right? Did you guys seriously kick a poor dead animal down there?”

  “This is serious, Zach!” Jessie pleaded. “You’re brave. Will you tell us what it is?”

  Dave shoved me, “Check it out, but hurry! I’m hungry and the cafeteria is calling my name.”

  I stared at the dark basement window. “What? Why me? We should just leave it to the janitor
!”

  Dave snorted. “You’re the survival horror expert!”

  “Yeah, in video games!”

  Tiffany lifted the window. “We'll be right behind you.”

  “Hell no, I won't.” Dave crossed his arms, and took three large steps back. “I don’t deal with dead things.”

  Jeff shrugged. “Ain’t worth it. Not for this guy.”

  Jessie kicked a pebble. “Zach’s brave.”

  Tiffany groaned. “Cowards! Don’t worry, Zach. I’ll be right behind you, even if these jerks won’t.”

  I handed my backpack to Jessie.

  “Be careful.” She said, and pecked me on the cheek.

  My stomach tingled. Girls never worried about me.

  Tiffany waved her hand. “Go already!”

  As I climbed through the window, I cursed under my breath. I misplaced my foot, slipped, and landed on my tailbone. A sharp pain almost caused me to scream, but the sticky substance I landed in, turned my stomach. I scrambled to my feet and wiped my hands on my pants.

  The dark basement stank of must and something foul. Broken chairs and desks were strewn around, along with old white boards and flat sports balls.

  Tiffany landed beside me and clicked on a small flashlight. She handed it over, and we followed the blood trail. It ended near some old cabinets.

  I sucked in my breath as something squished nearby.

  “I think it's behind there,” Tiffany said.

  I inched forward, adrenaline pumping. Could it really be a dying animal? The spooky basement stole my courage, leaving me trembling.

  I shouldn’t be afraid! It couldn’t be more than a poor dog, or cat.

  Grasping the first cabinet, I pulled to the side, but it came crashing down on top of us.

  “You idiot!” Tiffany said.

  We struggled to get out from underneath, but we couldn’t lift it even an inch.

  The squishing stopped, and a scraping took over.

  A grotesque, bloody, lump crawled towards us from behind a sink. The disgusting mass pulled itself using five bony digits. A partially crushed skull revealed its brains through straggled hair, and its eyes were dull green and lifeless.

  It looked too human for comfort. The moving torso gripped something in its other hand; a twitching mouse.

  Entrails hung from the animal's body as the creature tore away a chunk of meat. It chewed with an open mouth, revealing jagged, broken teeth. A long airy groan scraped its throat.

  It dropped the mouse and pulled itself forward.

  “Oh, my God!” I said and put all my strength into pushing the cabinet.

  “I-Is it there? I can't see!”

  “Yes! We have to get out of here!”

  Its clawed hand came within inches, and the drooling thing hissed.

  The basement door opened, and the custodian stepped in. He held a broom in his hand and squinted at us through the dim light.

  “Help!” I pleaded.

  “What the hell are you kids doin' in here? Making out?”

  Unaware of the blood ball, he stepped right next to it and knelt down, lifting the cabinet just enough. I crawled out.

  The creature grabbed the man and sank its fangs into his flesh. The blood-curdling scream reverberated off the walls.

  The cabinet fell back onto Tiffany. She grunted, once again pinned. I crawled back and stared as the blood ball’s head whipped around like a starving, rabid dog. The muscular man fought, but it wouldn't let go.

  “Help me, you moron!” Tiffany cried.

  I searched for a weapon and found an old, aluminum baseball bat. Grabbing it, I swung at the lump, crushing more of its head until the thing finally stopped moving.

  “What in the hell was that?” Tears streamed from Mr. Murph's eyes.

  His wound looked black and rotten. I met his terrified gaze, and then his eyes rolled back into his head. He fell flat.

  “Zach! Get this off me!” Tiffany said.

  I stepped back, looking toward the window on the other side of the basement. I needed to get out. I had a feeling Murph wouldn't stay dead for long.

  “Oh God!” Tiffany screamed. “Please, help me!”

  Mr. Murph opened his dull green eyes. He looked around like a newborn. I took his moment of confusion to wedge the baseball bat under the cabinet. I pushed down, lifting it, and Tiffany crawled out.

  We ran to the window. I held out my hand and boosted her. I jumped, but couldn't reach the ledge on my own. The reanimated custodian stood and moaned, eyes fixated on me.

  “Help!”

  Jessie appeared in the window and saw Mr. Murph. She screeched and grabbed for my hand. Jeff joined her. Murph's iron grip grasped my ankle. I twisted and screamed, kicking hard.

  He snarled and pulled, but my shoe connected with his jaw and he crashed through the broken desks.

  I crawled out of the basement as fast as I could, letting the window fall shut.

  “What happened in there?” Dave asked. “If someone died, I’m outta here!”

  “That bloody thing bit Mr. Murph!” Tiffany said.

  I scrambled to my feet and looked around the alley expecting to see more like the janitor at any moment.

  “So what was it?” Dave asked. “Was it a you know what? Tell me it was a you know what!”

  “It was—It was—” I fought for words.

  “Spit it out!”

  Screams erupted from within the school building, doubling and tripling as panic ensued. The fire alarm blared.

  I swallowed hard. “It was a zombie!”

  LEVEL 02 - FIRST ZONE

  Jeff smirked. “A zombie? The thing looked dead, but that’s bullcrap, man.”

  Dave threw his arms out. “I knew it! Of course! It all makes sense now!”

  Shaking my head, I regarded Jeff. “I know it sounds crazy, but--”

  “You on something, dude?” Jeff asked, arms crossed. “Because if so, I’ll take some.”

  As we argued, the blaring alarm continued.

  “You weren’t down there! You didn’t see Mr. Murph get bit, die, and turn. Tiff saw it, too!”

  Tiffany groaned. “Don’t call me Tiff!”

  Jessie swatted her straight, red hair from her eyes and grabbed my arm. “Zach, I believe you. You know your stuff about zombies.”

  “Thanks, but how did you know that?” I asked.

  She blushed and looked away. “I remember the report you gave on zombies.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “That was in 4th grade!”

  “I liked it, though.”

  “Anyway!” Tiffany said, looking back at the school. “Zombies can’t be real, but some serious crap is going down in there!”

  How could she not admit the truth? She saw the blood ball bite the custodian.

  The school’s back doors exploded open, slamming off the walls. Screaming students poured out covered in blood. Others tripped, getting crushed under thundering feet.

  Tiffany’s jaw dropped as dozens rushed by in full terror mode. Even Jeff looked unnerved.

  A kid stumbled out, tripped and skidded to our feet. Tiffany and Jeff pulled him from the stampede.

  Jeff tried to help him up, but he violently seized, forcing him to drop the kid.

  Tiffany kneeled. “Are you hurt?”

  The injured guy foamed at the mouth as his eyes rolled back. He’d change in seconds, just like Mr. Murph.

  Terrified, Dave’s eyes widened. “Get away from him!”

  I grabbed my backpack from Jessie and pulled her away. “He’s going to become a zombie!”

  Jeff pulled off his t-shirt, leaving him in a tank top. “Stop using that word! And watch my back so I can get pressure on this guy’s wound!”

  As the crowd thinned, everyone that’d been bit lay on the ground, dying.

  Jessie’s lips quivered and she tugged on my arm. “What do we do? You didn’t cover this scenario in your report.”

  “Again, Fourth grade!” I sighed. “I didn’t know what I was talking abou
t back then.”

  “Well, hell then, why are you here?” Jeff said. “Jessie said you knew your stuff.”

  “I’m a normal teen, just like you guys!” I snapped.

  “An ambulance should be here any minute!” Tiffany said. “That’s what happens when the fire alarm goes off, right?”

  “We need to get out of here. Find a place to hide.” I argued. “Then try to contact our families.”

  Jeff tied off the injured guy’s wound and glared at me. “You’re such a chicken crap!”

  “The loser is right!” Dave said. “Let’s go! People who get bit don’t stay dead long.”

  I pointed to the basement window. “Tiffany Gainsborough! You know what you saw. What do you think happened to Mr. Murph and the blood ball?”

  Tiffany groaned. “Super rabies or something? Zombies don’t exist!”

  Jeff jumped up. “The next person who uses that word--”

  Dave cleared his throat. “Um, guys, you might wanna move! He’s a zombie.”

  We all looked and the injured guy’s eyes were open and dull green. Just like Mr. Murph.

  “Move!” I cried.

  He lunged for Tiffany’s leg and sank in his teeth. I gasped, expecting blood and her screams of pain, but instead, Tiffany stomped in the honor student’s head. Her baggy jeans had saved her.

  Tiffany threw her hands up. “Fine! They. Are. Zombies! Are you happy?”

  “Then why are we just standing here?” Dave whimpered.

  Jeff’s nostrils were flaring as he looked to each of us. “You stupid bitch! You just murdered him! We could’ve--”

  Tiffany blasted Jeff in the face. “Call me bitch again and I’ll stomp your skull!”

  Mrs. Green emerged from the school, with a torn skirt; bright green veins ran up her legs. Blood squirted out of a gaping hole in her throat, as a long airy moan escaped.

  Dave kneeled down and grabbed a branch, holding it like a spear. “Guys! More zombies!”

  Jessie grabbed my arm. “Zach, what do we do? You do know what do to, right?”

  Time ticked to a stop. Jeff stared at Mrs. Green slack-jawed, and Tiffany balled her hands into fists. Without a doubt, we all knew the undead truth.