Hank’s shadow appeared in the flames for a moment, the outline of the pickaroon gripped in his hands. Hank sprang forward, thrusting the weapon forward and disappeared once more as he left the haze of the flames. Eric grabbed his reins of the horse and gave the horse a little kick on the side, the sudden surge of power causing Eric to slide back in the saddle. He could barely hold on as he barreled down the icy highway, holding on to the reins with white knuckles and squeezing his thighs together. It didn’t take long for Eric to catch up. A small herd of shambling shapes appeared out of thin air. He pulled back on the reins, not wanting to get to close before he ended up in the middle of a hoard of zombies. The stallion reared its front legs up. Anticipating the horse was going to do that, Eric pushed off the saddle and jumped backwards into the snow. The sheer force of the maneuver sent Eric toppling over backwards, the snow bracing his fall.
“Hank!” Eric called out, his voice carried away with the wind. Eric reached back and placed his hand on the grip of his revolver. Feeling the stiff rubber grip was comforting. The wind had really picked up now. A whirlwind of snow along with the dull, flickering glow of the fire was disorienting. The hungry groans starting to drown out the low moan of the wind. The smell of decaying flesh and waste was overpowering.
“Eric.” A familiar voice called out, but it wasn’t Hank. Eric tilted his head towards the sound, trying to pinpoint the source of the distress signal. “Eric, over here.” He was sure the sound was coming from just in front of him, but he could see anything. The wind whipped snow straight across the highway. Eric could see the outlines of the shambling corpses shuffling towards him. “Eric.” The voice was right beside him now. He looked around and could see figures moving through the snowstorm. He couldn’t see who they were, but he could tell that they belonged to the living, so Eric followed them. Eric rushed towards the survivors. As he got closer, he recognized the white camouflage clothing. The military was here and the voice belonged to Warrant Smith.
“Warrant Smith, what’s going on?” Eric called out, but the only answer he got was a hand that reached out and grabbed him, shoving him in line with the others. Eric didn’t say anything and placed his hand on the back of the soldier in front of him. He didn’t want to get lost in this snow storm. Whatever they had planned, Eric was along for the ride now and could only hope that Hank was somewhere amongst the living.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
REBUILT
Jason sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his arms to get the circulation back into his wrists. Doctor White had finally removed his restraints and he would have made a break for it if an armed guard wasn’t pacing the hallway just outside of his room. The tight leather straps had left large red rings around his arms. He could feel the difference with his finger as he ran them over the indents left behind. “So the surgery was a success?” Jason knew that it was; he just hated sitting there in silence.
“It would appear that way.” Alvin took out an instrument and shined a tiny bright light at Jason’s eyes. “Follow the light.” The doctor checked Jason’s right eye first, moving the light left then right, up and down, and then duplicated the routine for the other eye. “Good. Your eyes are very responsive and I have heard the off switch works.”
“Yeah, David already showed me that feature.” Hatred spewed from Jason’s mouth. He couldn’t hide his anger, but he wasn’t about to act upon his rage.
“Very good then. There are several other features that can be turned on and off.” Doctor White pulled out a blue note pad and flipped through the lined pages. “Well, for starters, the satellite link works. We can see what you see at all times.”
“I’ll make sure I look down in the toilet after I take a shit.” Jason quipped.
“Mr. Cook I’m not going to be watching the camera, but I couldn’t care less. I’m just here to go over the functionality with you and clear you for duty.” Doctor White didn’t look angry or disgusted, just uninterested and distant. Large bags puffed out under his blood shot eyes. His white eyebrows were dry and full of flakes of dead skin.
“I must have enhanced vision.” Jason could see much better than he could before the surgery. “I can see things crystal clear.” Alvin’s face was lined with wrinkles, the skin under his neck was loose and dropped down from his chin. He was nearly bald except for a few straggly white hairs that was spaced sparsely over his scalp.
“Yes, your vision is perfect and the chip implanted in your brain can process images the same as a camera with auto focus.” Doctor White’s white lab coat was left open, exposing a black sweater pulled over a green dress shirt and silver tie. “It also has night vision, thermal vision, and it can sync up with your weapon to help you aim your weapon.”
“So how does it all work, with that remote?” Jason wanted to get his hands on that remote. Maybe if he controlled it he could escape this awful place.
“It can be controlled by the remote and it can also be controlled by your computer operator.” Alvin poked the remote into his lab coat and handed Jason the notepad. “You can have a read through this manual, but it won’t matter. David will have the remote at all times and if you somehow manage to get it he has given orders to terminate the program permanently.”
“So you’re saying there is absolutely no way that I could ever escape David’s control.” Jason wasn’t waiting for the doctor to answer, he was already developing contingency plans in his head. Now that he had his sight back he would find a way to get his revenge on David Steele.
“Not with your vision. It would be near impossible anyway.” Alvin opened a cupboard along the wall. Various books and magazines were stuffed tightly inside. “If I were you, I would take advantage of your eye sight.”
“I don’t plan on losing it anytime soon.” Jason wasn’t going to do anything until he spoke to Tracy. Maybe she would be able to help him escape this hellish nightmare.
“I know you aren’t planning on it, but that’s not what I meant. I mean you are going to see some gruesome sights out there that you won’t soon forget.” Alvin pulled his chair up next to Jason’s bed. “You should read or do something that you enjoy with your eyesight. I enjoy a good book.”
A tall, slender woman wearing a dark blue shirt with a white apron draped over it walked into the room pushing a trolley full of trays. “Chicken or beef?” She said in a robotic tone, her deep blue eyes staring off into the distance. The blank expression on her face matched her voice. Her blonde hair was tied into a messy bun on top of her head. A black mesh hair net contained most of it underneath, but a few wayward strands poked out of the bottom.
Jason sniffed at the air. The scent of garlic and onions made his mouth water. “I’ll take the beef.” The worker grabbed a tray from her cart and left it on the counter. “Do you mind grabbing that for me? I still feel a little woozy from the surgery.” Jason asked doctor White. Alvin handed Jason the tray, his nose turned up at the overpowering odour. “Thanks.” The food smelled better than it looked. The beef was nearly grey, the instant potatoes looked runny and full of lumps, and Jason didn’t like the look of the bun. He picked up the bun and pulled it apart. It was dry and flakey. Crumbs fell onto the tray and into the mushy paste that resembled potatoes. “This looks awful.”
“Look on the bright side. At least you can see.” Alvin made an attempt at being funny and it made Jason crack a smile. The two men had started to become friends, or at least what counted as friends in this world. Jason knew that he wasn’t the only person in this facility that was being held here against their will. He was also aware that others were being forced to do things they didn’t want to do. No one could resist the safety of the base at Pharmakon; a life outside of these secure walls just wasn’t appealing. Jason had survived in the harsh new world since day one. The looming threat of zombies always hung over his head, but the threat of punishment from the Pharmakon staff was far worse.
“They didn’t even give me a fork to eat this with.” Jason grumbled.
“They would
n’t want to give you anything you could use to kill yourself with.” The doctor explained.
Jason picked up a piece of beef and let it dangle from his fingers, shaking it back and forth. “It kinda looks like someone cooked their rubber boot for supper,” Jason said jokingly. “It’s strange, but I think I’d rather eat a cold can of beans than this shit.” Jason took a bite of the beef and chewed it methodically. He was relieved that the cook had overloaded it with garlic. It took a few minutes before he could swallow the beef, but at least it tasted better than it looked. “I think I’ll get the chicken next time.”
“Maybe next time you can eat with me in the dining hall. The food is much better for employees.” Alvin stood up and started to walk away.
“You think you could get me in there.” Jason called out.
Doctor White paused in the doorway. “Mr. Cook you are a Pharmakon employee now, whether you like it or not. You should take full advantage of the perks that will be given to you. Trust me, things could get a whole lot worse for you than they have been. Ask your wife, she can explain it to you.”
“Do you know when she will be back?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
ESCAPE
Dana awoke to find herself alone in the living room. Relieved that the fire was still roaring in the hearth and Sasha’s blanket was thrown over the back of the recliner. She could hear the floor boards upstairs creaking. Dana looked at the coffee table. Sasha had brought her pills down from her bedroom and left a glass of water for her on the table. Dana lifted up her sweater and checked the bandage. For the first time blood hadn’t soaked through. The pain was now just a dull reminder of what had happened. She popped a pill in her mouth and took a gulp of water to wash it down. It was still lukewarm, she could taste the metallic tinge of the pot. Sasha must have boiled more water recently.
“You’re awake.” Sasha called out from the top of the stairs. She had changed her clothes again. Now she was wearing a tight pair of blue jeans and a light green tank top with glitter sparkling in the fabric.
“I can’t remember falling asleep.” Dana couldn’t recall what they had been talking about when she dozed off.
“Honestly, I think I fell asleep before you.” Sasha chuckled. “You were probably talking to yourself anyway.”
“How long have you been up?” Dana asked curiously.
“Maybe ten minutes. Just long enough time to get the fire going again and change my clothes. I was drowning in sweat. This cabin doesn’t take long to warm up.” Sasha bounced down the stairs, her hair bobbing around her face. She walked past the living room and straight into the kitchen.
“Shouldn’t we try to conserve some of the food?” Dana wasn’t sure how long she had been asleep. Her stomach was grumbling, but she knew things could get a lot worse. She had gone days without eating before and didn’t want to face that terrible ordeal again.
“We slept through the night. I think we can let ourselves eat today.” Sasha rummaged through the cupboards.
“Do you want to share a can of something?” Dana asked, hoping that Sasha wouldn’t agree.
“We can if you really want, I think I would like to have spaghetti.” Sasha held a purple box and shook it, rattling the noodles loudly. “Now that’s Music to my ears.”
“Did you want my help with anything?” Dana stood up to stretch. She tried to raise her arms above her head causing the stitches in her stomach tighten uncomfortably.
“You can boil the water if you want. I’ll heat up the sauce in this pan.” Sasha twisted the lid off a bottle and dumped the red sauce into the frying pan.
Dana walked over to the kitchen and looked out the window. She could barely see the next cabin. Gusts of wind picked up the light powder on top of the hardened snow and mixed it with the already falling snow to create white out conditions. “It looks nasty outside. I hope they found some shelter before this storm hit.” Dana grabbed a pot on the counter and was glad it was already filled with water. She certainly didn’t want to have to go outside in that frigid storm.
“I’m sure they are just fine.” Sasha didn’t seem bothered by the storm. “Once this storm passes I’m going to check the cabin next door, see if that one has supplies too. If it does, we should start bringing them over here.”
Dana nodded her head in agreement. “Sounds like a good plan.” Dana wasn’t sure if she was ready to be on her feet doing things, but at least it would keep her occupied and her mind off Eric.
Eric grabbed the jacket of the man in front of him. Thick flakes of snow was falling now, obscuring his vision as it whirled around. The person behind him was doing the same thing; no one wanted to risk getting lost in the storm. The hungry moans of the dead were closing in fast. They didn’t need to see where they were going. The scent of human flesh guided them without hindrance. They didn’t need to stop to gather their bearings. The soldiers needed to find their way back to shelter, the storm had grown so nasty that the fire was only a distant glow to lead them in the right direction.
“Keep moving.” A frantic voice carried on the wind. Eric couldn’t tell where it had come from and he couldn’t see anything around him, the rotten stench of death and decay was growing stronger. A set of snapping jaws appeared out of thin air. Milky eyes quickly followed as a zombie lurched forward. Eric had to let go of the man in front and brace himself against the foul creature. Eric managed to grab the creature by the shoulders as it toppled on top of him, they both crashed into the snow. The corpses rotten breath was warm on Eric’s face, blackened drool spraying out of its mouth as its jaws snapped. The zombie’s skin was black with frost bite. Its nose had fallen off and left behind a sore, reddish black hole in the centre of its face.
The zombie went limp, its weight crushing Eric down. Its head went limp and it drooped down into the crevice of Eric’s neck. Blood oozed as thick as sludge from the giant blade sticking out of the creature’s skull. “Contact!” A soldier pulled the body off Eric and helped him to his feet as gunfire erupted. Tiny flashes could be seen down the line as the soldiers started to fire into the storm. The powerful scent of gunpowder quickly filled the air. Eric grabbed his revolver and scanned the edge of his vision but he couldn’t locate anything to take aim at. The soldier standing next to him looked confused and Eric started to wonder if anyone knew what they were firing at.
“Get in all-around defence.” Warrant Smith commanded. “Step into it.” His voice was strong but calm. Years of combat experience allowed him to think clearly and react quickly. The soldiers quickly gathered in a tight circle, each man covering each other’s backs. They all got down on one knee, their legs intertwined. Eric could feel a soldiers butt against the back of his leg. Eric knelt down to join them and started to feel a sense of security amongst the chaos. He didn’t have to scour all around him now. He trusted that the men behind him would watch his back.
A frost-bitten corpses shambled into view, their shapes obscured by the storm. Eric didn’t wait long enough to see their disfigured features. He took aim at a creature’s head and fired a round into the obscurity. The dark shape of the body flailed its limbs and tumbled backwards out of view. Another zombie wandered into view and Eric quickly put it down. Sending this one careening over sideways into the snow.
Unnngghh Unnnngghhhh Urrnnngggghhhhh
One of the creatures grunted loudly in the darkness, seemingly calling out to the others. Eric remained tense, but the zombies disappeared into the storm as quickly as they had appeared. “This way.” Warrant Smith called out and the soldiers jumped to their feet and started to move quickly. Eric was ushered along by the soldiers and he looked up at the flickering light of the fire. The outline of a building could be seen just beyond the flames. A door opened and a soldier held it open, patting each soldier on the back as they entered the building. Eric could see the glow of a lantern in the back of the building and the men quickly gathering inside. Eric could hear Warrant Smith counting as he patted each man on the back. Eric looked at Smith as he cros
sed the doorway. The Warrant didn’t say anything and never patted his back as he passed by.
Eric looked around the room as he entered. It wasn’t very big, the far wall was lined with chairs and a receptionist window sat next to a door on the back wall. This must have been the waiting room of the forestry wardens building. The door slammed shut behind them and everyone was standing shoulder to shoulder. “All right, I only counted twenty-two soldiers, which means we are missing three.” Warrant Smith’s voice spoke over the chatter. “Can anyone confirm who’s missing.”
“Corporal Sinnott got bit and I seen her walk into the storm.” A woman’s voice spoke up from behind Eric.
“Private Alexander got struck by a wayward bullet.” Another man’s voice spoke up somewhere in the room. “He didn’t make it.”
“I think Private Park panicked, he ran off scared and crying.” Someone else spoke up.
“Damn it.” Warrant Smith shook his head in disgust. “Remember our training and keep your heads together. I know it was a shit show out there but we didn’t need to lose anybody.”
A hush silence fell over the room. Eric looked around and was glad to spot Hank huddled in the corner next to the vikings. The largest warrior was holding an old lantern in his oversized hand, making the light look like a child’s toy. His long hair was tied into a braid and the sides of his head were shaved. His beard was thick and tangled with knots. He stood out like a viking king amongst the other two men, who were much smaller. One man had his goatee tied into a point with beads wrapped around it, his hair was trimmed close to his head all around. The other man wore the furs and armour of a viking but looked like a teenager. His blonde hair was shaggy and unkempt. His face was blemished and riddled with acne. Scars from popping the pimples littered his complexion.
Zombies On The Rock (Book 3): The Republic of Newfoundland Page 11