Omega Virus_Beta Hour

by Jake A. Strife

  His head hung to his chest, and next to him, safe from the blood sat his black zombie killing fedora with the red feather.

  “What happened to you?” I whispered.

  “How’s it look, Doc?” Wesley asked. “I can’t really tell anymore. I don’t have the energy to open my eyes.”

  I looked him over and shook my head. “You’ve looked better.”

  “Don’t be so nice,” Wesley said. “I can’t feel my right leg, and I know what that means.”

  What could I say?

  “Give it to me straight.” He said. “Think I’ll make it?”

  My eyes scanned him up and down. Could I just tell him that in his condition, survival would be impossible? When he didn’t hear me respond, he chuckled.

  “You’re still too cowardly to tell someone they’re going to die?” He asked.

  “It’s not easy,” I said. “I’ve seen too many die already. I don’t want to see anyone else fall.”

  “Not everyone is dead, you know.” He whispered.

  “I have to get to Jessie, Jeff and Dave!” I said.

  “Oh yeah, you do.” His head lolled from side to side. “The Lv04 took them. That crap was crazy. I didn’t think I could ever see something move like it did. It leaped about with long claws, they had to be a foot each.”

  “Doesn’t sound good,” I admitted. “Where did it take them?”

  “Further down.” He said. “You’ll have to go on without me. I think I have to log out.”

  “Wesley,” I said. “I’m sorry. I should have come with you. This is my fault. It’s all about me.”

  “I know.” Wesley agreed. “It is all about you. This entire game Grandson is playing. It’s all about Zachary Mastiff. Not the billions that died.”

  “I’m going to put an end to this,” I said. “I’m going to stop him.”

  Wesley laughed, and reached his hand to the side, gripping his hat.

  “It’s dangerous to go alone,” he said. “Take this.”

  My eyes opened wide.

  “Y-you’re hat?” I asked. “But I can’t—”

  “I don’t think I can take it with me where I’m going.” He responded with another chuckle. “Plus you need it to kill zombies. Don’t worry; you’ve earned it. You’re now Player One. Whatever you do, don't lose it. It will save your life one day, I promise.”

  I reluctantly took the hat and placed it on my head.

  “Let me take a good look.” He said. “It has to be fitting, ya know.”

  I gasped as he lifted his head. A huge long gash had gouged out his eyes.

  “Looks good on ya!” He grinned.

  “But you can’t—”

  “Don’t ruin the moment.” He said, voice stern.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “I have one more thing to tell you.” Wesley continued. “I was going to tell you on the ship before my hat went overboard, then I agreed to tell you when you told Jessie about the virus. And since that’s all cleared up, now I gotta… and I don’t know how it’s going to affect you and Jessie, especially with what we saw in the G.O.D. Report Part 2.”

  “What is it?”

  “That marriage scene.” He said. “Between you and Tiffany. There’s still a--”

  He coughed, and blood poured from his lips, but he spit it out.

  “As I was saying.” He continued, “There’s a still a chance it can happen. I mean, if you want it to.”

  “Tiffany is dead,” I told him.

  “That’s just the thing,” He whispered. “She’s not.”

  I shook my head. “We were there! She shot herself with that gun!”

  “But were you watching her?” He asked. “You had your back turned.”

  “You mean…”

  “She pointed the gun to the side and fired into the water. She didn’t kill herself.”

  “How is that—but---she was bitten!” I said. “She was infected! She would have died by now!”

  “Another trick.” He said. “I think she was faking her own death for a reason.”

  “What kind of reason?” I cried. “All this time I blamed myself, and she’s alive?”

  “Somewhere out there.” He nodded. “She’s just waiting for you to find her, I bet.”

  Guilt flooded my heart. If Tiffany had survived, what about Jessie? What did that marriage scene mean then? And could I even survive to see any of it through?

  “Why did you wait so long to tell me?” I asked. “I could have found her! I could have—”

  “Don’t deal in could have, would haves,” Wesley said. “I didn’t because I saw the special bond you and Kessa shared, and then Jessie. Why do you think I kept asking if you loved the girls?”

  I stared at him for several long moments.

  “Zach,” Wesley said. “You have to go to Grandson. We heard what he said to you over the speakers. If he really has a way to stop the virus from consuming you, then you need to find it. If not for any other sake than to find Tiffany.”

  “But how can I find her? Why should I find her?”

  “I believe she is another piece of the puzzle to all of this,” Wesley said. “If she was so close to you in childhood, then without a doubt, G.O.D. Mode is going to target her as well.”

  Wesley spoke the truth, and I knew it. Tiffany would be hunted down, too. I needed to find her and save her.

  “Do me one last favor,” Wesley whispered.

  “Anything,” I said. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “When you find Grandson,” Wesley mumbled. “When you find that bastard; kill him. Kill him in the worst way possible. Kill him, not only for Kessa, not only for the billions dead, do it for Serenade Kennedy, the only girl I ever loved.”

  “I will,” I said.

  “It’s up to you to take down G.O.D. Mode.” Were Wesley’s final words as his head slumped to his chest and he gasped for breath one final time. Then Wesley James passed from the world.

  I wiped away my tears. “I’m going to do it for you too, Zombie Killer, for you too.”

  As I stood, I fixed the hat on my head. I felt like some kind of renewed energy flowed through me. I needed to live for Jessie, Jeff and Dave, but I also needed to live for Tiffany. I didn’t know if I would end up marrying her like the hologram showed, but I made a promise, I would save everyone’s lives. No one else, not a single one of my friends would die. I had become Player One.

  LEVEL 39 – TELLTALE

  Feeling motivation or not, the challenge of walking still stood before me. Now. I staggered along, almost a Corpse. But at least no longer felt fear. Not only did I feel like a hero, I felt like a Zombie Killer; someone who transcended the normalcy of a normal ZPoc survivor. The old Zachary Mastiff died back there, alongside Wesley James. For the first time, I believed Grandson had come within reach. I would get my answers to all of the puzzling questions, and kill that son-of-a-bitch before he could hurt anyone else.

  As I limped past dozens of rooms, I ignored them all. I didn’t need to search for guns and ammo; I didn’t need to find any other Corpses to fight. I only needed to get to Grandson, and then I would hunt down every last G.O.D. Mode member and make them pay, one by one.

  “I’m coming for you!” I shouted.

  “Finally! I was beginning to worry.” Grandson mocked over the speakers. “I hope you’re not looking for a fight. You aren’t are you? I think you'll lose in that state.”

  “The hell I will,” I muttered.

  My friend's scents were growing stronger, Jessie’s in particular, but the scent of rot came on the strongest.

  “What makes you think you can win?” Grandson asked. “Of the two, I am far superior.”

  I continued on, picking up my pace, freeing my joints and muscles from the rigidness within.

  “We are but one and the same, you and I.” Grandson continued. “But there is one vital thing that sets us apart.”

  “Do tell.” I turned a corner and headed in the direction of the rot.

&n
bsp; “I know how this ends.” He laughed.

  “Typical villain monolog,” I muttered. “When I’m done with you, I’ll find Grandfather and punch him in the face.”

  “You will never make it to the others.”

  “I said in the face!” I snapped.

  As I battled the virus within, I could almost feel my white blood cells losing the battle.

  “We weren't always, confident, were we?” Grandson said. “Now we've both grown brave, and taken separate paths.”

  I closed in on the Lv04; its scent seemed closer than my friends. That meant Wesley’s killer had gone into hunting mode.

  “So you sent it after me,” I said. “Coward.”

  “Do not presume you understand my motives.” He said. “If you can't deal with a Lv04, you're not worthy.”

  I glanced at the reflective wall as I walked. And for a moment, I thought I looked upon Wesley, but no, I looked back at me.

  More determination filled me. Stopping equaled death.

  It dawned on me then, I couldn’t feel a migraine anymore, in fact, I couldn’t feel anything at all; not my fingers, toes, my heart or pulse. I no longer even breathed. A coroner might have declared me dead on my feet, but as long as I had my mind, I could go on.

  “You see, I thought because we are so alike, I could become a God.” Grandson continued to ramble.

  “Good for you.” I spat.

  I sensed the Lv04 just ahead in a room where our battle would ensue. It looked like a graveyard. The ground appeared to be made of packed dirt. Tombstones dotted the area. I entered the room and read the first plain looking grave.

  “Experiment 0001.” I read aloud. “Failed to adapt.”

  The next read Experiment 0002, failed to adapt, and the graves went on in rows spanning the length of a football field.

  “You’ve reached the Graveyard.” Grandson spoke.

  “This is sick.” Looking forward I spotted a figure standing in the center of the room.

  The smell turned my stomach. I knew the creature to be the Lv04.

  “I found your pet,” I said.

  “No, Mastiff, it found you.” Grandson replied.

  The Lv04 looked like a shirtless man, except being so thin its ribs pressed out from within, actually breaking the skin and protruding into the air. Its skull had sunken in eye sockets, and its nose had rotted off. The face appeared almost entirely skeletal except for its cracked blue lips. The creature wore tight black pants and was barefoot. The most disturbing part of the monstrosity showed itself when it stretched out its long arms. At the end of each were foot-long claws.

  “Please don’t put up a fight.” Grandson sounded concerned. “I would rather you save your ammo.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll save a bullet for you, asshole.” I lifted my Desert Eagle, pointing at the Lv04.

  The creature took slow steps forward, never lowering its claws. Step after step it came, hissing as it moved and picking up speed. I wrapped my finger around the trigger and fired.

  The kickback nearly threw the gun from my hand, but I maintained my hold. The Lv04 took the shot in the shoulder and stopped walking. A chunk of its upper arm had been blown off, and now hung by mere threads. It slowly turned its head back to me, and opened its mouth, but no sound came out. I almost thought it smiled.

  “Oh, Mr. Mastiff.” Grandson said. “Why did you have to piss it off?”

  “Cuz, I’m pissed off.” I pulled the trigger again.

  The Lv04’s arm blew off, and it screeched, looking at the stump.

  In a sudden movement, it darted faster than a rabid cheetah. The gap closed in a split-second, and it swung its claw. My body felt so stiff; I couldn’t try to dodge.

  The attack slashed across my chest, and I nearly fainted when I saw my blood spray the Lv04’s face. It stuck out an elongated tongue and lapped up the blood, then it began to cackle. The attack should’ve been crippling, but I couldn’t feel pain anymore. So I lifted the gun right up to the bastard’s chest and fired.

  The super Corpse tumbled, falling over a tombstone, and shattered the next with its skull.

  “You’re toy isn’t any fun.” I closed my eyes. “Please tell me you have a better surprise waiting for me.”

  “He isn’t done yet.” Grandson assured.

  My eyes popped open, and the Lv04 had moved. I turned as fast as I could only find thrusting claws coming straight for me. I gasped as all four long daggers impaled my chest. It retracted its claws and cackled again. I looked down and touched the wound. Surely, my lungs had been pierced. When I tried to breathe, air leaked out as a morbid whistling.

  “Crap.” I gasped, my voice came out in a strange airy tone.

  The cackling continued as I glanced back up at my foe. It had killed Wesley and now stood in my way.

  “Screw off.” I lifted my gun right to its face and pulled the trigger.

  The head of the Corpse exploded in a gory mess. The creature stumbled back and still, despite its decapitation kept standing. I walked forward and fired another shot. It lurched back but swung about trying to slash me. I fired again, blowing off its other arm. I made my way up to the defenseless body lifted my foot and kicked it in the gut. With a thud, it collapsed into the dirt. I stomped and stomped again. It still kicked its legs about, so I turned and fired a shot into each knee, blowing off its lower extremities. Finally, only a torso remained.

  “That wasn’t so hard.” I continued across the room.

  “Do you know how hard it is to make one of those?” Grandson snarled.

  I kept moving toward the next chamber. I tried to count my bullets in my mind. How many had I just used? I kept counting and came to a conclusion, despite that part of my mind seeming to be shutting down, that I had four bullets left, maybe. As I continued, I lost large amounts of blood, and my body progressively became harder to move.

  After a hundred steps I approached a door covered in red leather. Spikes jutted out of the barrier in a hundred places. I frowned; it certainly looked like the door belonging to a boss. Grandson would be the boss at the end of this quest, the final thing standing in my way. There would be sequels, I knew, but first, I had to finish this one.

  The door swung open on its own, and the next room had no light. I had reached the moment of truth. Knowing it’s too late to back down, I stepped through the portal and the door promptly slammed shut, bathing me in pure darkness. I waited for several seconds and high above a series of lights hummed to life, turning on with metallic clunks.

  The room looked huge, with a steel catwalk running along the upper portion. The floor beneath my feet had been made of glass with fluorescent bulbs underneath. Straight ahead lay a red carpet leading far across the room to a set of stairs whereas predictable, stood a throne; an empty one.

  “Where are you?” I said as loud as I could. “And where are my friends?”

  “I will show myself in due time.” Grandson said; his voice sounded raspy and broken.

  Down from the ceiling fell three ropes. Each of them had been strewn up by their hands; Jessie, Jeff, and Dave. All of them had a gag in their mouth. They all locked eyes with me and shook their heads. They were trying to tell me I'd walked into a trap, but of course, I knew that.

  “Are you happy to see them?” Grandson asked. “You know because if they died, this would all be pointless, wouldn’t it?”

  “You never would have got me down here, otherwise,” I said. “Now let them go and we can have our chat.”

  “No.” Grandson said. “I think I’ll let them hang out just a bit longer.”

  “You're a bastard!” I waved my gun in anger.

  “Both of us are bastards.” He said. “Technically, anyway.”

  “Why aren’t you coming out?” I growled. “I don’t have time for this.”

  “I’m willing to give you something that will stop the virus from turning you into a Corpse.” He chuckled.

  “And what’s the catch?” I asked.

  “You hurt my feeli
ngs.” Grandson said. “Why must there be a catch? Can’t you just accept my offer in good faith?”

  “Not a chance.” I aimed my gun around the room. Surely he meant to ambush me with a horde of Lv04s.

  “Fine.” He said. “I will give it to you if you believe me or not.”

  In the center of the room, just to the left of the red carpet, a panel opened on the floor and another pedestal, much like the one on the ship, rose up. When it finished its climb, I stared, incredulous. Sitting in the center, I spied an injector gun and another vial. This vial looked to be made of bluish steel.

  “Go on.” Grandson said. “Take it. If you don’t hurry, it will be too late.”

  “What about my wounds?” I asked, touching my chest. “Won’t I die once my lungs need to work again?”

  “You need not worry, I promise you will not die.”

  Up above, Jessie, Jeff, and Dave struggled, swinging about and trying to get free. They screamed from underneath their gags, and I couldn’t help but have a bad feeling about the option presented before me. But then, I saw a drop of blood fall from one of my friend's wrists. The ropes were hurting them. I could smell the blood's wonder. I moved to it, but Grandson stopped me.

  “Zach, fight it!” He yelled. “You know what you need to do if you want to save your friends.”

  “Why do you care?” I asked, desperately trying to resist the blood.

  “Because they used to be my friends too.”

  “They used to be?” I asked, “You make no sense! Tell me, if I take the vial, will you let them go?”

  “Yes.” He said. “I promise to release them.”

  “Unharmed!” I added.

  “I promise.” His voice grew raspier by the second.

  Something nagged at the back of my mind, something told me not to trust him. After everything that had happened, why take his word? But if I didn’t take the vial I would be done for, and so would my friends.

  Bravery, and perhaps stupidity filled me. I walked to the pedestal and lay the magnum down atop it. I took up the injector gun and fumbled the vial into the loader.

  “Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?” I whispered.