“Doctor, what I do not want is some sort of compound that creates a Technological Zombie and an incident that shines a public relations nightmare on this facility. I need to know that if you use this chemical compound on a human that we can control the person, use this person for military purposes and allow them to be trained like regular soldiers.” The general looked up at the doctor and allow him to respond, “General, all research has its consequences, but the only thing I can guarantee is results. You want a compound that delivers results, that is what I have done. The control and training of the final product will be up to you. Now read the rest of the material.”
The general looked concerned with the doctor’s response and looked back down at the reading material: Hellspawn, the dead are usually controlled by a spirit, demon or evil entity. This is why we have so many religious factions and organizations offering assistance.
Unfortunately, these are not demonic possessions and so far, we have no means of curing these people once they are infected. The only way we can stop them, at the moment, is by restraining them, shooting them in the head, or decapitation. The cursed human is the afflicted undead, until the curse is broken.
A discussion of zombie symbolism could require the writing of a thesis. However, there are themes present with the zombie archetype: Death, to be confronted with a zombie is to be confronted with our own mortality. Humans go to great lengths to obscure the remains of our dead, especially our loved ones. Our dead are made up and dressed up to hide the ugliness of decomposition.
Zombies remind us that no one will escape the inevitable death experience. The unknown familiar, we see the transformation of a friend, brother, sister, mother, or father into a decayed, rotten walking zombie that attacks and devours. All familiarity is lost when the loved one dies and comes back to life; all morality vanishes and is replaced by a taboo such as cannibalism.
Zombies are easily worked by their owners for long hours and are often seen exploited in this fashion in zombie movies. Zombies of the Haitian variety illustrate a loss of conscious control and free will and thus, a reduction to the level of an animal. Deprived of their humanity by their master, they are forced into slavery through exploitation.
Zombies are the manifestation of the personal and collective shadow of a society that is capable of perpetuating such devastation. One by one, friends and loved ones are “Zombified” and their numbers increase exponentially until we are all consumed by a psychic, spiritual, and physical plague of our own making. Other more macabre versions of zombies have become a staple of modern horror fiction, where they are brought back from the dead by supernatural or scientific means and eat the flesh of the living. They have very limited intelligence and may not be under anyone’s direct control.
The general looked up at the doctor, “Why the military would want to create and experiment on humans with zombie powers is obvious. If we had the elements of zombies in human soldiers, the army wielding these soldiers would be nearly impossible to defeat. This is why the defense department has approved these experiments. They are to remain undisclosed and are to have one of the highest clearance levels of any government programs. You and your staff are to maintain strict regulations with the containment protocols and security operations of this facility. From this point on, we can have no more incidents.”
Doctor Weiss and his team worked through the week on the final compound. Once the compound was complete, the general was informed and entered the lab. He was behind a thick layer of bulletproof glass. Dr. Weiss walked over to the table where Laylianna was lying. He reached over to the table and pulled out her arm. He cleared the room and picked up a vial and syringe. He stuck the needle into the vial, extracting the final CU1 compound from the container. He looked over at the general, who nodded and turned on the recording equipment. The doctor then injected the first series of CU1 into Laylianna’s arm. There was no immediate reaction and the general came over the intercom, “Alright Dr. Weiss, I want you out of the room, until we know what the reaction will be.”
The doctor left the room and joined the general in the observation room. After three hours, there was no reaction from the CU1 compound in Laylianna’s system. The brain scans were continuing to flash on the computer screens and her vitals remained at the same level prior to injection.
The general stood up and walked to the exit, “Monitor her for any changes, she is to remain under 24 hour supervision and the auxiliary power systems are to remain turned off. There will be continuous power running on the security systems and video recording computers. I want to be notified immediately if there are any changes. Keep me updated doctor.” The general turned and left the observation room. The doctor poured a fresh cup of coffee and remained observing Laylianna’s condition.
After a few days, the vital signs of Laylianna fell, until the doctor notified the general, “She is dead. We will have to wait and see if she reanimates in the next few days. If there is no reanimation in the brain, then the compound will need to be re-synthesized further. I’m sure I got it right because the compound worked in the primates.”
The doctor pointed over to three large enclosures, where there was an infected gorilla, orangutan and chimpanzee. They rushed through the cages and were being monitored by one scientist for each enclosure. The scientists were working continuously with the primates, trying to teach them the use of tools and other various toys inside the enclosures. They were having success with teaching the primates and at times the primates would relax enough to use the tools and build things. The chimpanzee was even reading and writing.
Another week had passed and there was no sign of animation in Laylianna’s body. The general walked into the observation room, “Doctor any sign of animation in the test subject?”
“None at all, I know that I have the compound right. It may just not be reacting the same way in a human subject.” The doctor looked at the brain activity on the computer one last time and then back over at the general, “Nothing.”
“I will assemble a team and we can dispose of the body in the next few days. In the meantime, I have a few volunteers that are willing to be tested with the compounds.”
“Live soldiers? Wait general, have you approved this with your director?”
“You just follow orders and everything will go according to plan, as far as you’re concerned, these were patients taken from the hospital.” The general turned and walked out of the Bio-safety Level 3 containment room, into the decontamination section and prepared to assemble his team to dispose of Laylianna’s body. The operation would have to take place at night to avoid raising suspicion at the gate and it would require a specific team. The general had one in mind.
They were under the leadership of Major John Hunter, considered to be a hard headed leader, but a very stern Major. He was just assigned to the facility last month and so far has an outstanding track record. Maybe this will be the chance for him to prove himself and step up into the program.
Chapter Eight
George Maxwell was still recovering, psychologically, after the death of his fiancé, Melissa. His wound never fully recovered either, the bite marks were still as fresh as the day it happened. It seemed to have changed color, to a dark reddish, brown color and was spreading across his shoulder. He also became sicker easier, catching more colds and even a bout of pneumonia last winter.
He was coughing and sleeping more than usual, at times 12 hours a night. There were even times when he wouldn’t leave the house on his days off and he was missing too much work. Max and Jeff would stop in as much as they could, to make sure he was alright. His guilt had overcome him and he felt responsible for what happened to Melissa.
His doorbell rang and the only energy he could muster was to call out, “Come in.” Jeff opened the door and replied, “George, you in there?” Entering the room and tripping over a bag of garbage, he looked at George on the couch, “Holy shit George, you look like a mess and this apartment looks like a fucking bomb exploded. You need to get out
in the sun man.” Jeff quickly walked over to the window and pulled open the blinds. The sun shone through the windows and directly onto George’s face. “Oh man, come on. Why did you have to open that?”
There was dark bruising under his eyes and his skin was a pale white color, “George have you looked in a mirror lately? Your skin is white and your eyes are glazing over man.” Jeff went to the couch and Max walked in the door. “Hey Jeff, I parked the car and. . . Oh George you don’t look so great.” Max walked into the kitchen and cleared out some dishes from the sink, opened the cupboard and filled a glass with water.
“We need to get him to the hospital” pulling George to his feet, “Max give me a hand, we need to get him to the car.” Max came back in the room and gave George the glass of water, “I don’t need water and I don’t need to go to the hospital. I am fine, just a little depressed about Melissa. You both know it was my fault” His speech was slurred and spoken in a low tone, “I don’t need a doctor. I just need a gun.”
Jeff and Max walked George to the car, helped him into the passenger seat and pulled off in the direction of the hospital. After the doctor had examined George, they could find no serious disease and prescribed some strong antibiotics. They took George home and put him into his bed, “You get some major rest now George, Max and I will be by tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry about me, I am going to be fine.” Max turned, as he and Jeff were walking out of the room, “Hey George tomorrow’s Sunday, if you’re feeling up to it we can watch some games.” George was already asleep, Max and Jeff just shrugged it off and left. George suddenly went into a seizure and shook violently for a few minutes and then went still. His breathing slowed and then stopped, taking one last deep breath, he exhaled and went motionless.
It was late in the afternoon; George’s extremities began to show movement. First, in his fingers and toes and then, his arms began to move. His hands and feet moved up and down and then back and forth, until he rose up in the bed. His eyes were glazed over and bloodshot, lifeless and vacant. His breathing was slow and wheezy. He was unable to make out clear speech and moaned. Crawling from the bed, he stepped onto the floor and sat at the edge, letting out another moan. The sun slowly set and the light disappeared from the window, leaving the room dark.
After an hour of trying to gain his balance, he stood from the bed and stumbled into the hallway. As he walked, he knocked picture frames from the wall and they smashed on the floor. His feet stepped on the glass, cutting through the flesh, but no blood came from the wounds. His knees and elbows never bent, only flailing around in order to maintain balance.
Into the kitchen, George burst through the swinging doors. They smashed against his arms and broke into pieces onto the floor. He walked through the kitchen and out of the back door, stumbling down the stairs, his arm snapped as it tried to catch the weight of his body during the fall. He let out another moan, as he lay on the ground. It took him a few minutes to get back on his feet, his motor skills had declined, as the OU2 compound took over his brain.
Street lights lit up the street corners and a few cars passed as George walked from behind his house and into the middle of the street. As a car passed, George stumbled in front of it. The driver slammed on his brakes and yelled from the window, “Hey asshole, why don’t you watch where you’re walking?” He passed George and the street lights revealed his condition. The driver yelled out, “Halloween isn’t for another week, you freak!” The driver rolled up his window and sped off, down the road.
George stumbled down the road and onto Main Street. There were bright lights shining from the other side of the road and he walked towards the convenience store. A group of kids walked in his direction and one of the kids blurted out, “Nice costume dude.” George moaned and threw up his arms at the kids. They screamed and ran off laughing into the distance.
Inside the convenience store, Dave, the store clerk was cleaning up and walking trash bags and broken down boxes to the rear door. He pushed open the door and was immediately overtaken by George, who ripped into his shoulder, tearing out a large piece of flesh and chewing the piece in his mouth. Blood dripped down his chin and onto the floor. The store clerk tripped on a step and fell backwards, into the store room.
The clerk was screaming and yelling on the ground, “What the hell is wrong with you?” He was trying to slide across the floor and get away, as George got up and walked through the door. A few customers heard the ruckus and slowly walked into the store’s back room to investigate. “Hello is anyone back there? Are you OK?” George slowly crept along the wall, with blood covering his face. The store clerk continued to bleed out and eventually stopped breathing. A large pool of blood covered the stockroom floor.
The couple walked through the door and saw the clerk lying on the ground, covered in blood. The man rushed over to the clerk and gasped at his condition, “Amy don’t come back here. Call 911!” She reached for her cell phone and began dialing the number, George came from the corner, grabbed her arm and bit deep into the tendons, pulling and ripping them from the bone of her arm.
Amy screamed and her boyfriend, James, rushed over, picking up a broom and smashed it over George’s head. He fell to the ground and James reached down, picked up Amy’s cell phone. The 911 operator was calling out, “Hello, is anybody there? Hello, can you hear me?”
“This is James; I am at the Corner Stop convenience store. The clerk is wounded and so is my girlfriend. I need an ambulance, please, send help now.” James’ voice was frantic and his actions were erratic, as he searched for something to stop Amy’s wound from bleeding.
“Sir, can you stay with me, please calm down, take a few breaths. Is anyone else there in the store?”
“Just the man that attacked my girlfriend, but he is on the ground. I hit him pretty hard and the store clerk, who appears to be dead.” James was frantically looking around the back room.
“I need you to take your girlfriend and get out of the store, but stay on the phone with me.” James began walking out of the backroom, with Amy and George grabbed his ankle, preventing him from leaving. James turned and kicked George in the head, causing him to release his ankle. The couple rushed into the main section of the store, knocking over store displays and products from the shelves, then out the front doors.
“My arm James, it’s bleeding.” He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket. He tied it around Amy’s arm to stop the bleeding, “I know that hurts but we need to stop the bleeding.” Two police cars pulled around the corner and into the parking lot of the store, followed by an ambulance and an additional sheriff’s car.
They pulled up to the front of the store and jumped out with their weapons drawn. They were slow to approach James and Amy, however, once they identified them as victims, they rushed passed the couple and into the store, one of the officers remained with the couple.
Two EMTs came from the ambulance and began evaluating Amy’s condition. They walked her over to the ambulance and helped her inside. The officers cleared the store, moving from isle to isle with their guns drawn, pointing them in multiple directions. They moved into the back of the store and discovered the store clerk in the backroom. His condition was critical and one of the officers quickly spotted the wound on his shoulder. “Help me please.” Dave called out to one of the police officers. “Take it easy buddy, we have help coming.” The officer reached to his shoulder and pressed down on his radio, “I have another person in the back room. He has a wound on his shoulder. The store is clear.”
After the officers cleared the store, an EMT rushed through the door of the storage room and crouched down, next to Dave. He placed his bag on the floor and unzipped it, pulling out various bandages and medical equipment. Dave was mumbling incoherently, “The man went out the back door. He bit me!”
“You just hang in there, we’re going to get your wound taken care of, get you in the ambulance and then to the hospital. What’s your name?”
“Dave�
�� He responded as he lost consciousness.
The officer looked at the back door and then back to the paramedic, “Are you alight here?” The paramedic nodded and the officer continued, “I’m going to clear the back of the store.” The officer stood up and drew his weapon, walking slowly towards the door. He reached the door and saw blood smeared across it.
Slowly, the officer pushed open the door, “This is officer Cleary and I am coming out of the rear door of the location, the suspect is still at large.” He opened the door completely and stepped through, raising his weapon to the left then behind him, to the right. The alleyway at the rear of the store was empty. There was a large garbage dumpster pushed up against a large fence and a few barrels next to it. The officer moved forward to the dumpster, slowly raising his gun at it. Another officer came from around the side of the store and approached from the other side, both officers signaled at the dumpster with their hands.
Reaching the dumpster, one of the officers signaled he was about to open it. He counted down with his fingers and threw open the lid. A feral cat leaped from inside, just as the lid hit the back of the metal, startling the two officers. They looked into the dumpster and cleared it. They both let out a nervous laugh and continued to look in the alley, into backyards and then returned to the front of the store.
The paramedics had loaded the store clerk into the ambulance, James and Amy sat on the left seat. The rear doors of the ambulance closed and it pulled out of the store parking lot, onto the road and in the direction of the hospital.
Dead in Love Page 9