The Dead War Series (Book 1): Good Intentions

by D N Simmons

  “We know sir, we’ve already received several calls from SciTech Labs and we’re working now to resolve the situation. Thank you for your call,” the dispatch officer said. She made sure to get the man’s location and information before ending the call.

  “What did they say?” Vincent asked the man.

  “She said the police already know about it and they’re taking care of it.”

  Vincent shook his head. He had no idea what “it” was but he was putting what faith he had left into the Chicago police department.

  “May I borrow your cell?” Vincent asked hand extended.

  “Ah, look buddy, I don’t want to get involved,” the stranger said as he began retreating.

  Vincent watched as the man ran to get away from him. He couldn’t blame him, but he really needed a telephone right now. Shit! Where was a pay phone when you needed one? In this age of wireless devices, pay phones were all but extinct. He took a few glances behind him to see if any dead people were on the streets. So far, so good. Maybe the police were their best bet. Still, the Center for Disease Control needed to be notified just to be on the safe side. He ran down the street a few more blocks, still putting distance between himself and SciTech. People—curious and suspicious of him still fully dressed in his white, blood-splattered lab bio-suit—avoided making contact with him as he passed by. He could feel their eyes on him, but he made certain to keep moving forward. There was a part of him that wanted to yell “run for your lives” but that would either grant him even more arch-eyebrow expressions or start a mad panic, so he opted to remain silent as he searched for nearest telephone.

  ***

  “So, how about doing a little sight-seeing after the convention?” Dr. Felicia Anderson asked her two colleges Dr. William Bale, a tall, handsome African-American male, with short cropped hair and hazel eyes, and Dr. Samantha Grey, a cute blonde with shoulder length hair and blue eyes, as they waited in line at Starbucks.

  “Hell, if we have any damn time left before we have to head back. This damn convention's going on for six more hours. I hate these fucking things sometimes,” William commented as he took another step forward getting closer to the counter.

  “I don't know, I kind of like them. I haven't gone to many, but I always find them informative and it's nice to meet up with a few familiar faces in the field,” Samantha said, giving her colleagues a different perspective.

  “Nerd,” Felicia teased with a coy smile.

  “Don't hate,” Samantha retorted. “Damn, how long does it take to pour coffee at a coffee shop? This line is taking forever. I was hoping I could get a Cappuccino before we have to get back.”

  “I think they have to wait for the guy to come back from Columbia with the beans,” William joked.

  “He must be traveling by mule,” Samantha added.

  “Shit, girl, I don't know.” Felicia chuckled at her two co-workers. “They need to open up another line. They know this is still the AM, people need their caffeine fix.” Felicia stepped out of the line slightly. Making sure the people behind the counter would be able to see her; she raised her voice, “Is there a manager back there that can assist with opening up another line?” She tried her best not to sound as pissed off as she felt.

  “You're bad,” Samantha whispered with a mischievous flare.

  “I'm tired of waiting in this damn line,” Felicia clarified.

  Apparently, the management took the hint and opened up another line, to which several people, including the three of them jumped into right away.

  “Squeaky wheel gets the oil.” Felicia smiled. Just then, her cell began ringing, blaring the rhythmic melody of Jasmine Sullivan's “I Bust the Windows out Your Car”. It let her know that her boss was calling. With a slight grown and roll of her eye, she rubbed her thumb over the screen, answering the call.

  “Hi, Dr. Washington,” she greeted.

  Her co-workers shared knowing looks. Each of them knew Dr. Bryant Washington was the last person on earth Felicia wanted to talk to today. He was the main person responsible for sidelining her promotion. As far as Felicia was concerned, it was because he wanted to keep her working under his supervision. It was suspected that the good doctor had a bit of a crush on his sexy female counterpart. In any case, he was on her shit list.

  “We may have a bit of an emergency. I can't tell you how serious it is at the moment, because the reports I've been getting aren't consistent, but apparently there's been an outbreak at SciTech Labs and we've been getting calls of a similar outbreak at Mercy Hospital. How close are you to either of those locations?” Dr. Washington asked, getting right to the point.

  Felicia took a look out the window, noting the street signs. “Well, I'm closer to Mercy Hospital right now. We'll head there and try to get things under control. What kind of outbreak is it? What are we walking into?”

  “Honestly, I don't know. Be prepared for a violent environment from what I'm hearing. I've got reports coming even as I speak with you about people eating people, if you can believe it.”

  “Come again?” Felicia asked with one eyebrow cocked.

  “Hey, I hear you. I'm not sure how much of this I'm willing to believe myself. But then again, I'm not there. So I need you to go to that hospital and report back to me what you find.”

  “We’re on our way,” Felicia said as she rose from her chair, followed by her two companions.

  “Be careful,” Dr. Washington cautioned.

  “Don't worry, we will.” She ended her call, slipping her cell back into her pocket.

  “So what's up?” Dr. William Bale inquired.

  “I'm not one-hundred percent sure,” Felicia said. “We have an assignment to check out Mercy Hospital. Apparently there's been an outbreak. From what he told me, might be some kind of drug that makes people go insane and eat each other. I have no idea. I'm going to contact the police and make sure we can have a few units there to meet up with us. If this situation is as violent as I'm made to believe, we're going to need some firepower.”

  “So much for trying to get in a little sight-seeing after the convention,” William commented. “Or the convention, for that matter.”

  “Look around, because that's as close as we're going to get,” Felicia replied as she waved her hand at the approaching cab.

  They climbed in and gave the driver the hospital’s address. Felicia called the police department and told them who she was, her credentials, and where she was heading.

  “We already have police officers at that location, ma'am,” the dispatcher informed her.

  “Who's the officer in charge?” Felicia asked.

  “That would be Sgt. Peter Kominsky, ma’am”

  “Thank you.” Felicia ended the call.

  “So this is really serious,” Samantha said.

  “Dwayne seemed nervous enough.” Felicia looked down at her cell phone as it started ringing again. She answered. “Hello?”

  “Dr. Felicia Anderson?”

  “This is she, whom am I speaking with?”

  “I'm glad I caught you. My name is Dr. Michael Bloomberg from the Illinois Department of Public Health. We received a call from Dr. Dwayne Washington at CDC, who gave me your number. He informed that that you're on your way to Mercy Hospital. I'd like us to meet up before you go in there. A lot of the calls we've received are very strange.”

  “One minute.” Felicia looked at the cab driver. “Excuse me. How far are we from Mercy Hospital?”

  “With all this traffic, about ten minutes, maybe less,” the cab driver answered.

  “Thank you.” Felicia put the cell back to her ear. “We're about ten minutes out. We'll meet up with you once we get there. I was told a Sgt. Peter Kominsky of the CPD was in charge at the scene.”

  “He was, no one has heard from him since he went into the hospital. At least that's the latest report I have.”

  “What do you have so far?”

  “Apparently, there's a very hostile virus that is causing rabid and psychotic be
havior in those infected. I've got reports of people biting and killing each other with their bare hands. From these reports, it would seem that in their uncontrolled state, the infected are stronger physically and highly irrational, almost like a dog infected with rabies, or a person on PCP.”

  “Those are similar to the reports the CDC received,” Felicia said.

  As they got closer to their destination, they began to hear the sound of rapid gunfire and see the signs of sheer panic. The driver stopped his cab, unable to go any further due to the traffic jam. People were abandoning their cars and running in the opposite direction.

  “What the hell?” Felicia murmured as she looked out the window at the panicked people running by.

  “Um, I think this is as far as I'm taking you. Are you sure that's where you want to go?” the driver asked. His voice wavered, showing signs of the fear and uncertainty he was feeling.

  “We have to. This will be fine,” Felicia said as she paid him the amount on his mileage meter. The three scientists climbed out of the cab and immediately started making their way toward the hospital. They passed more people running in the opposite direction—some of them in hospital gowns and nothing else.

  “What the fuck?” William watched a man in a wheelchair roll himself away as fast as he could. He was still in his hospital gown with his oxygen mask on his face and an oxygen tank on his lap.

  “Dr. Bloomberg, how far are you?” Felicia asked as she tried to remain unperturbed by all of the chaos surrounding her.

  “I'm pulling up right now. I can't get close to the hospital because of all these cars. I'm about three blocks away.”

  “We're about five blocks and we're on foot,” Felicia said. “Do you have any protective gear?”

  “Yes, we have a mobile unit with us.”

  “Excellent, we'll need to borrow some of you resources.”

  “Of course.”

  “We'll see you soon.” Felicia ended her call, slipping her cell back into her blazer pocket.

  “I don't like the way this shit looks at all,” William said as he kept up his fast pace.

  “You and me both,” Felicia agreed. “I think that's them.”

  The trio ran towards the team of people who were suiting up in white bio-suits complete with helmets.

  “Is there a Dr. Bloomberg here?” Felicia asked as she approached them.

  “I'm Dr. Bloomberg. Dr. Anderson, I presume.”

  “Yes.” Felicia flashed him her badge. Her colleagues did the same.

  “Good.” Dr. Bloomberg said after giving each badge a quick inspection. “The suits are in the truck. I think we have just enough for the three of you.”

  “Perfect.” Felicia said.

  “Maybe one of you should stay behind. Here,” Dr. Bloomberg handed William his truck keys. “Just in case.”

  “Are you sure?” William took the keys apprehensively. He cast a glance at Felicia then back to Dr. Bloomberg.

  “Keep an eye out. It's just a precaution.” Dr. Bloomberg turned toward Felicia and Samantha. “All right, my team and I are going in now. We have walkie-talkies and once we're in, we can give you an update.”

  “All right.” Felicia nodded as she stepped into the bio-suit.

  “You should wait to hear back from me before you go in,” Dr. Bloomberg advised.

  “We're coming in there soon, you just stay safe---Jesus!” Felicia gasped as the sound of gunfire echoed throughout the area.

  “Yeah, we've been hearing a lot of that.” Dr. Bloomberg looked toward the hospital entrance as more police officers rushed in. “Please, wait until you hear back from me,” he pleaded.

  Felicia looked at him. She saw how sincere he was and nodded. “All right. We'll wait until we hear back from you. But if I don't hear back from you soon, I'm going in.”

  “Fair enough.” Dr. Bloomberg turned and walked toward the hospital with his team.

  Felicia and her team zipped up their bio-suits as they watched his team enter the hospital. “Be safe.” she gave them a silent prayer.

  ***

  Vincent was relived to finally get a stroke of luck. After making numerous attempts at several different businesses lining the street whose front desk employees took one look at his attire and then promptly asked him to leave, he eventually found a hotel where the receptionist allowed him to use the telephone. He contacted the CDC and when he got a hold of someone, after he confirmed who he was, he told them about SciTech Labs. They patched him through to one of the administrative personnel who was more than eager to speak with someone from SciTech Labs.

  “My name is Dr. Bryant Washington, Assistant Surgeon General and Director, Office of Public Health Preparedness and Response, and your name?”

  “I'm Doctor Vincent Masterson, a head-researcher at SciTech Labs. My director was Dr. Steve Morris. Look, I know you have no reason to believe I am who I say I am, but I swear I'm not lying. We have an emergency outbreak in Chicago and we need to contain it as soon as possible,” Vincent said in a rush of words he hoped were coherent enough.

  “We were just made aware of the situation, Doctor Masterson. We've received several telephone calls from other employees of SciTech Labs, hospitals, as well as our contacts from the Illinois Department of Public Health.” Dr. Bryant Washington informed. “We received a call from a Dr. Richard Benton, who informed us about your possible involvement. He mentioned that you and your team were working on a secret military project and that your lab received a distress call this morning, one of your doctors was injured?”

  Vincent gave a silent prayer; thanking God that Richard was still alive. At least he hoped he was still alive. He had to bring himself back to the present to focus on the doctor's questions.

  “That's true. I am directly involved with what's going on,” Vincent replied. “One of my doctors was seriously injured and was rushed to Mercy Hospital. The other was killed by one of our infected test subjects.”

  “Mercy Hospital is the second location we've been receiving calls from. I've just sent a team there and we’re sending more units as fast as we can to St. Noel Hospital as well as SciTech Labs and several other locations where outbreaks have been reported.”

  “What?” Vincent gasped as he struggled to comprehend how quickly the epidemic was spreading. If an epidemic was what it was—he didn’t even know how to define it.

  “What can you tell us about the situation since you're directly involved?” Dr. Washington asked.

  Vincent had to gather his thoughts before he could answer him. He was still reeling from the fact that several locations were already under attack in so little time. He shook his head to clear his mind when he heard Dr. Washington repeat his name. “I’m sorry. How many places have the outbreak now?”

  “SciTech, Mercy General Hospital, St. Noel Hospital, a McDonalds, and several other locations,” Dr. Washington informed.

  “Dr. Washington, I can't understand what is actually happening with this outbreak. For me to fully explain everything or even how we can come up with some sort of vaccine, I need to get back into SciTech Labs. Unfortunately, at this point, it's impossible. I barely escaped with my life. I need to get to a safe location and people need to evacuate the city as fast as possible.”

  There was a slight pause as Dr. Washington reflected on the new threat. “Where are you at now?”

  “I'm standing in the lobby of the Regency Hotel, but I can't stay here. I need to get back to my condo and gather whatever research I have on my hard drives and then my fiancée and I have to get the hell out of the city,” Vincent said. His voice rose an octave as he struggled to keep calm.

  “We don't need you creating a panic among the residents of the city—”

  “There's already a panic, Doctor. It's been less than an hour and already several places have been attacked and more of those things are rising up and killing,” Vincent pointed out.

  “Let me connect you with our team of doctors who are already in Chicago. Perhaps you can meet up with the
m,” Dr. Washington suggested, not really certain what the right move should be.

  This wasn't like any other outbreak he'd ever heard of. It wasn't like anything he'd ever experienced. He wasn't sure if normal protocols were going to help. Already, he had received a telephone call from Dr. Michael Bloomberg, one of the head researchers at the IDPH regarding the state of affairs in Chicago and from what he had described, it seemed like the End of Days was just beginning. He put Vincent on hold while he connected the call to Felicia's cell phone. He made the introductions quickly before demanding an update.

  “I’m preparing to go into Mercy Hospital with my team,” Dr. Felicia Anderson said, bringing her boss up to date. “Dr. Masterson,” she began, addressing the other man, “the more you can tell us about this highly unusual outbreak, the faster we can contain it.”

  “Dr. Anderson, as I've told Dr. Washington, I really don’t know what it is. I can’t explain it. All of my research is located on the sixth floor of SciTech Labs, room 608. Even with all of my research, I can’t explain how the dead are walking.”

  “Did you just say the dead are walking?” Felicia asked, hoping she misheard him.

  “That's exactly what's happening. We need to evacuate the city as soon as possible. The people infected with this—whatever it is—are extremely strong and fast.” Vincent did his best to give them the information he’d gathered just by his own observations.

  “We haven't heard any reports of dead people walking again, Dr. Masterson--”

  “--Listen to me, it's obvious the reports you've been getting are seriously lacking in information. I've seen with my own eyes, people who've been killed get back up and start attacking anyone in sight,” Vincent said.

  “Fine, I won't argue. Can you tell us anything? Like what happened? How did this start?” Felicia asked.

  “One of our test subjects died as a direct result of a failed experiment. Before it died, we tried several vaccines—new vaccines to restore its health—but none of them worked. Shortly after the test subject 12-19 died, it came back to life. No heartbeat, no pulse and very little brain activity. The only parts of the brain that seemed to be working were the primary motor cortex and the hypothalamus,” Vincent said, remembering the brain activity he saw on the monitor before the ape escaped.