“They stayed behind to monitor their new guinea pigs,” Straddling replied. “They had just injected them when you radioed.”
“In that case our search can start there.”
Lewis led Straddling, Bannister, Masters, Pellegrini and Matthews down towards the Incarcerated. For the past couple of days they had started to adjust to life again without having their weapons constantly drawn, without fear constantly gnawing at their bellies. Now they all clenched a Browning or SA80 tightly as their stomachs churned.
“Who’s on patrol?” Lewis asked.
“Corporal Kevin Berthon and Flying Officer Olly Frost,” Straddling replied.
They did not run towards the Incarcerated as they were now pausing to check the passageway at every turn, but they progressed as swiftly as safety would permit. Lewis was on the radio as they went. “Frost.” There was no reply. “Frost!” he repeated.
Then suddenly there was static and a voice. “Yes sir, it’s Berthon here.”
“Berthon,” Lewis was relieved. “Thank goodness. Look, we’ve got a situation. Vida seems to have had a relapse. She had some kind of fit and then disappeared. Keep your eyes open and your wits about you. Don’t take any chances and get back to the cafeteria now. Is that understood?”
“Yes sir.” There was a pause. “Right away.”
They were just outside the Incarcerated corridor. Lewis peered in. The two scientists were there, crouched behind their screen, watching the diseased within. Lewis rapped on the glass then pushed the door open and hissed at them. Reluctantly they shuffled backwards.
“You’re coming with us,” Lewis said and started to turn away.
“You’ve got to be joking,” Rhind spluttered. “We’ve got to stay here and monitor their progress. We’ve only just injected them. This is the most important thing now.”
“Not anymore,” Lewis replied. “I’ll explain as we go. Move.”
He radioed Berthon and Frost again to check where they were but there was no reply. He tried a couple more times. Straddling and Bannister exchanged a worried glance. There was still nothing.
Back in the canteen there was the familiar air of fear circulating amongst everybody. There was still no sign of Frost or Berthon.
“Everyone is to stay in this room,” Lewis said loudly. “Nobody leaves for any reason whatsoever.”
Just then Berthon charged through the door. His jacket and trousers were slick with red and his eyes were bulging.
“What the hell happened?” Lewis asked. A sense of dread was quickly filling his body from the bottom up, like a man with his feet stuck in sand as the tide rushes in. Everything was caving in too quickly and it was hard to keep pace.
Berthon glanced fearfully over his shoulder and then sank down into a chair. There was a frightened whimper from some of the onlookers. There was blood on Berthon’s face and hands, and fear in his eyes.
“It was one of the infected,” he said between gasps. “We were just finishing our patrol at the far west of the building when one of them attacked us. It knocked me to the ground and I dropped my gun. Then it jumped on Frost and bit him. I grabbed a bit of wood to defend myself and hit it as it came at me again. I killed it.”
“And Frost?”
Berthon shook his head. “I’m sorry. I did what I could for him but there was just too much blood. It bit through an artery. I couldn’t save him. He died in my arms. I would have brought his body back but I didn’t know if there were…”
“Of course not,” Lewis said. “You did the right thing getting back here.” He turned to Singleton and gestured at Berthon. She nodded. He then turned to Sergeant Harper Hutchison, who he was leaving in charge. “Barricade the doors with whatever you can, but listen out for our return - in case we’re in a rush,” he added.
Singleton put a hand on his arm and he stopped for a moment. “Just…” she faltered, “just don’t take any more risks than you absolutely have to. Please…”
He nodded. They both knew the score. Then he took the same five soldiers as well as Corporals Gray and Bamburac, and left.
Sergeant Hutchison immediately got down to organising the reinforcement of the doors by nailing the tops of tables to them. As they worked a silence remained behind, slowly filling the room; a silence that not even the hammering and sawing could easily fill.
CHAPTER 18
“We’ll make our way along the top corridor. Then down to the first floor and carry on to the far west of the secure zone. Then we’ll return along the ground floor,” Lewis said in a hushed voice as they stood outside the cafe. The hiatus of recuperation and consolidation that he had so desperately wanted, had been short lived indeed. They were back in the familiar territory of fear and caution. They were all well-used to operating in such strained conditions, but for some reason it felt different this time. Each of them held a Browning and SA80 and they had four radios between them.
As they had done in the recent past, they shuffled nervously along the top corridor. Masters was continually trying to edge past Lewis in his anticipation of finding his wife. Finally Lewis grabbed him and hauled him back.
“I know you’re desperate to get to her,” he hissed, “but there’s something not right about this. I want to find her just as much as you do but I also need to keep you, and the rest of us, alive. The only reason I have brought you along at all is in case we do locate her and need you to help for whatever reason. But if you continue to push the pace then I’ll take you back to the canteen and lock you up. Do you understand?”
They continued cautiously, stopping to check and listen regularly. Nobody jumped out at them. Everything seemed to be quiet, just as it had been since they had finished clearing the building and declared it supposedly ‘safe’. It was a crushing blow for Lewis to think that all their hard efforts had been for nothing. They made it to the far west of the secure area without incident. There had not been anything out of place, nothing to raise their suspicions. As they descended down the stairs to the ground floor however they could already see that something was wrong. The fire door to the west was wide open and the chain that had been looped through the handles and locked, now lay on the floor nearby. The padlock was still attached but the chain had been snapped. It was not a slight chain but had thick, heavy-duty links. It was the kind of chain that was not easily broken.
Lewis cursed. He realised immediately that they should not have relied upon their security measures. They should have searched the entire building and cleared it all. He had believed at the time that it was the safer option to just lock the doors to the west rather than look for any more infected. Those offices had not been of any use to them when they had visited the laboratories the first time, and he had wanted to spare his men from any more stress and peril than was absolutely necessary. Now though was not the time for regret. Now he had to try and keep them all alive. Right now they had a missing woman, a dead soldier and a security breach, not to mention the question of how the chain had been snapped.
The body of Flying Officer Olly Frost was only a few paces away, next to a diseased man. Frost looked like he had been held by the toes and dipped in blood. The walls were sprayed with red and his corpse was twisted. It was immediately clear that he was dead. The diseased man beside him however looked a whole lot worse. When Berthon had said he had killed him with a bit of wood Lewis had not envisaged the scene that greeted them. In reality Bethon had all but decapitated him, with a table leg, turning the man’s skull to pulp.
“The secure zone has been compromised,” Lewis said on the radio. “Keep everything tight there.”
“What now boss?” Straddling asked quietly.
Lewis knew what had to be done but did not like it - not at all. They had to check the building once again, without knowing how many infected had been in the area to the far west, the area where Matthews had thought he had seen one of the infected. There may only have been one, but there could have been many more. And with just the eight of them it did not leave a lot of spare m
anpower. On top of that, there was still the issue of Vida. Lewis quickly outlined his plan.
They would clear the laboratories in sections working back towards the canteen. Each time they would only go as far as the next set of stairs before regrouping. Two of them would remain in situ on the top floor. In theory that should be the least dangerous task. They could be silent and vigilant, and would see anything approaching. The other six would back-track along the top floor to the next set of doors where two would remain. The four would then go down to the ground floor where two more would stay to guard. The last two would then go back to the west. They would wedge something robust to secure the fire doors closed and that at least would be a temporary measure and would show that nobody was behind them. Knowing that area was now safe they could then regroup to the east and make their way back to their colleagues. This was the only way he could see that they could be absolutely sure the area was free from diseased. It was time-consuming and left them vulnerable as they had to split up considerably, but it would mean the building was safe once more. In theory at least it did not expose them to too much of a risk, if they moved slowly and maintained strict discipline, and was the best plan available to them.
They completed this as far as the fire doors and were then presented with a harder task. The building along the next section had the extra floor. This would take even longer if they were going to be thorough. None of them liked it but nobody had a better idea and they all realised the importance of doing this methodically and slowly.
Pellegrini and Gray were the two remaining in situ on the top floor. “If anyone approaches you unannounced,” Lewis said sternly to them, “shoot first and ask questions later. Do you understand?”
“What if it’s Vida?” Pellegrini asked.
“Challenge her,” he replied. “Tell her to stop. If she refuses, put her down.”
“No, that’s my wife…” Masters wailed in anguish.
“I’m sorry,” Lewis said without losing his brusque manner. “We don’t know what’s going on here or what condition she’ll be in. We can’t risk it. And if you don’t like it Masters then as I said before, you’ll go back to the canteen and we’ll search without you.”
Straddling was in total agreement with his commanding officer. “I’ll tell ya something for nothing,” he muttered as he led Corporal Bamburac away, “anybody approaching me will get a round between the eyes so you’d best let me know you’re coming first.” They disappeared down the stairs where they would guard the doors on the ground floor.
The remaining four soldiers made their way slowly. It was still morning but many of the doors along the corridor were closed and the building seemed to be gloomy.
“I don’t like this,” Gray confided in his friend.
Pellegrini just nodded.
“Are we really going to shoot Vida if we see her?”
Pellegrini shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe we aim for a leg or something. Let’s just hope the others find her, and not us.”
They watched their colleagues making their way gradually, checking every office until they passed through the next set of fire doors and out of sight.
“We’re on our own now,” Gray muttered fearfully.
“I think it’s best if we don’t talk so that we can hear anyone approaching,” Pellegrini whispered. “Keep your eyes peeled.”
Lewis looked back at the two soldiers as he went through the doors. The last time he had left Gray behind, when they had found Julia, it had worked out okay. Hopefully this would as well. So far there had been no signs of life and no noises from anywhere. All the time he was trying to imagine how one of the infected had snapped the chain securing the doors. That, and what might have happened to Vida. It just did not seem right. He could envisage two possible scenarios, one much less appealing than the other. Either she had had some kind of delayed mental seizure relating to her trauma and had wandered off in confusion, in which case they must surely find her soon, and hopefully before she ran into one of the infected. Otherwise the only other explanation he could see was that she had indeed turned into some kind of vampyric minion, as Collins had warned, in which case lord only knew what they would be dealing with. But for how long would he continue to hope that she was merely stumbling and disorientated somewhere in the building? And when would he start to accept the less palatable explanation? He also knew that if they did not find her within the area of the laboratories that they had previously secured, then they would have to check the rest of the building to the west, the unsecure area, where goodness knows how many more diseased there may still be.
He tested his radio. Pellegrini answered immediately, followed by Straddling and then Hutchison. Nothing seen or heard so far. At the next set of fire doors there was the canteen to the east and the stairs going down to the first floor. The café’s doors were closed and Lewis envied those within. He knew though that he had most of his best soldiers with him. It was their duty to be the ones on the outside, placing themselves in danger for the good of the others. They all had their place in their small, insular society. Everybody had slipped into their roles seamlessly, and his was that of leadership and security. It was as simple as that. They descended to the first floor where Bannister and Matthews took up guard.
“Stay sharp,” Lewis muttered for the sake of saying something although he knew it was unnecessary.
Feeling increasingly vulnerable Lewis now made his way along the passage. Masters was ever close by his side, looking wildly around. He was pale and jittery and sweating profusely. Exactly how much use, Lewis wondered, would he be in an emergency? He sincerely hoped he would not have to find out. They made their way slowly. They left every door open after they had checked carefully within. The fire doors beckoned. Lewis tried to maintain a steady pace. Don’t rush now. He glanced beyond. All was still. They carefully passed through. The end of the corridor with the stairs up and down was close. Don’t rush, Lewis thought again. Don’t rush. Almost there, take it easy. There were still no sounds and now they were at the end. Lewis breathed a sigh of relief. Straddling and Bamburac were below on the ground floor. Pellegrini and Gray were above. He signalled to Masters that they would collect Pellegrini and Gray first. He did not look for confirmation that Masters had understood. Nor did he check that his colleague was following. He just naturally assumed; and sometimes assumption can lead to the mother of all cock-ups. When he was half way up, the top floor started to come into view. He expected to see their feet and legs as he ascended but there was no sign of them. He felt a lurch in his chest. His pulse quickened as did his pace. His fingers clenched his SA80 as he reached the top step. He looked out on an empty corridor; empty, that is, apart from the fresh streak of blood along the floor, the splatters across the walls and ceiling and the rifles lying abandoned and unused. A groan escaped him, but the sound was covered by shrieks from below.
He turned to run. Only then did he realise that Masters was not right behind him. He took the stairs in leaps and made for the ground floor as the cries had come from there. As he passed the first floor at pace he noticed someone out of the corner of his eye. It was Masters. He was standing staring along the passageway at another figure. He was staring at Vida. She stood a dozen yards away with her arms by her sides. Her head was bowed and her eyes closed as though deep in prayer or asleep on her feet. Lewis skidded and slipped as he tried to change direction. He banged into the wall hard. Masters was already running and now Lewis was uncertain whether the scream had come from below or from Masters. As Masters neared his wife he slowed, as though he was suddenly unsure. He paused as he opened his arms to embrace her. He took an uncertain final step just as Lewis gathered the air into his lungs to scream.
“No Masters. No!”
She opened her eyes but there was no flicker of recognition. There was no sign of the person she had once been. Her face was pale and thin and her eyes were veiled. She opened her mouth in a smile that was more a grimace than an expression of endearment.
“My lov
e…”
As his arms enwrapped her she drew back her lips and opened her jaw wide. As he pulled her close she leant her head forwards towards his exposed flesh. As he started to sob with relief she bit down suddenly. Her teeth sank deeply into his neck.
“No,” Lewis yelled.
He scrambled to his feet and was about to start to run but gunshots rang out from directly below, pulling his attention. The sound was so unexpected and loud that he flinched and turned to glance behind. He was only distracted for a moment, but by the time he looked back Vida was gone. Masters lay in the middle of the corridor. He spouted profusely from the open wound on his neck. His body convulsed and shook as he immediately went into shock. His eyes were staring and he tried to speak but blood bubbled up from his mouth as Lewis reached him.
Another blast from a gun came from below.
Lewis tried to place his hands on the injury but blood spurted between his fingers. Masters’s arms flapped uselessly and for a moment he looked into Lewis’s eyes. Ever since his wife had been initially abducted, his smile and joie de vivre had vanished. He had become withdrawn and anxious. Without her he was utterly lost. When she had come out of her coma he had blindly ignored the oddities to her character, so happy was he to have her returned to him, but always at the back of his mind he had been trying to hide from the truth. It had been a particularly hard few days for him and now he was being released from the hideous realisation that his wife had changed and would never be the same. Lewis reached down and grasped his flailing hand. It seemed as though Masters was trying to smile as his head lolled to the side and his body ceased shaking.
Only for a second did Lewis pause and hang his head. He did not have the luxury to delay. A door was ajar nearby. He forced himself to his feet and launched himself at it. His SA80 was in front of him as he booted the door fully open. Instinctively he swept the room with a burst from the hip but the room was empty. The window had been smashed and the metallic Venetian blinds ripped away. He checked outside but there was nobody there. As he turned to sprint to his colleagues downstairs he did however notice the blood on the window sill.
The Blood of the Infected (Book 3): Twice Bitten, Twice Die Page 31