The Dead War Series (Book 1): Good Intentions

by D N Simmons

  “But how can you help us?” A middle-aged, Caucasian woman reiterated the other man’s question.

  “That is something you will learn in time. All you need to know now is that you are being helped.”

  Ovidius turned and walked away. Madison followed him, leaving the humans to be watched over by several other vampires.

  “Are you staying here?” Madison asked him.

  Ovidius shook his head. “I have other matters with which to attend, and it looks as though you have things under control here. I have to visit the other location as well.”

  “All right.” Madison walked outside to monitor the construction of their barricades. Some of the vampires were starting to show up with the trucks and trailers.

  Ovidius followed her out before taking flight to the Target location that was closest to check on its progress.

  Chapter Eight

  “They still didn't answer?” Vincent asked Sarah.

  “No. I'm so scared,” Sarah ended the call she'd made to Linda's cell. They have been trying to reach them but with no success.

  “Maybe their battery died,” Vincent offered a lighter explanation rather than, “maybe they're dead”.

  “I'm sure that's it,” Sarah agreed. It was better than thinking the worst. She was happy that her parents were still alive in California and were now safe in a government controlled safe house. Her sister was in England with her husband and children and was all too relieved to learn that Sarah was still alive. Sarah didn't bother to tell her family about Vincent's involvement concerning the zombies. She felt it was best that they didn’t know.

  Vincent had called his mother in Florida to see if she was someplace safe. He was so grateful she lived close to military base. He just hoped it was going to be safe enough. The thought that something he had a hand in creating could kill everyone he loved disturbed him to no end. They spoke briefly and told each other how much they loved one another before she had to hang up. Knowing his mom was still alive was enough for him right now.

  They all braced themselves as the helicopter began to descend.

  Vincent and the others climbed out once the helicopter landed and were immediately greeted by one of the three soldiers approaching.

  “Let's get you inside,” said the soldier who Vincent guessed was a Major based on the shiny gold leaf on the lapels of his jacket.

  The group kept their heads ducked low as they ran towards the rooftop entrance of the state Health Department Headquarters. Once inside, introductions were made briefly. Vincent was correct in his assumption, the soldier was a Major—Major Gregory Garrett to be exact—and the good Major didn't seem all that fond of him at the moment.

  “I have strict orders from the President of the United States to assist you in any way possible so that we can put a lid on this before it gets any worse,” Major Garrett said, addressing the entire group. “Unfortunately, we can't stay here for long. The rate at which people are being attacked—along the highway alone—only means it will be a matter of time before the virus and those infected reach this location. Our main objective is to get a team inside SciTech Labs and gather the information you say we critically need.”

  “We do,” Vincent said. “And, if they're still alive, we need gather whatever test subjects we may have left in the lab. That will help.”

  “You didn't mention anything about 'test subjects' earlier when you told us about the files,” the Major pointed out.

  “Actually I did—I told them.” Vincent pointed to Felicia and then made a sweeping gesture towards Samantha and William.

  “And I relayed that information to our Deputy Director, Dr. Wheaton,” Felicia added.

  “Regardless, that information isn't in our report,” Maj. Garrett said.

  “I'm hoping the one ape we had that took to the test successfully is still alive. Listen, I haven't had a long time to think things out, I'm sorry. Is it going to be a problem?” Vincent asked. He tried hard to hide the anger in his voice.

  “It might be, Mr. Masterson.”

  “Doctor, please,” Vincent corrected.

  Garrett paused for a moment, and then continued. “Dr. Masterson, how many subjects are we talking about and what are they? My men need to be informed and properly prepared.”

  “Two apes—chimpanzees to be more exact. One of them turned out to be a successful trial run. The other was sick, but not as sick as our subject zero was—the one that died and resurrected, I mean,” Vincent said.

  “So, my men have to make room on the helicopter for two apes. Doctor Masterson, we'll do what we can to bring these specimens back, but if we find survivors, they'll take priority.”

  “I don't think you understand how important those apes are to my research. They are the priority,” Vincent said.

  “You would ask that I leave humans behind and take your lab animals instead?” the Major asked.

  “In all honesty, Major, I don't think you're going to find any human survivors left in that building. But if your men do, I would suggest they take them only if they can fit on the helicopter along with the apes. I'll leave it at that,” Vincent said. He hated having to be heartless, but it was for the greater good.

  “Very well, if you say you need these apes, I'll instruct my men to bring them in. I just wanted to make sure we have an understanding. With all of the chaos erupting in several states now, we were lucky to get the team we have on such short notice. We've got the National Guard and every law enforcement agency in the state trying to keep a quarantine blockade around the infected areas. The rest are trying to get residents out of the other areas before it's too late. We've got military personnel and reinforcements flying in right now, but that's still going to take a while.” Maj. Garrett said.

  “So in other words, we don't have time to waste,” Vincent clarified.

  Maj. Garrett gave him a quick nod. “Exactly. We have people dispatched already because there's a time limit on this mission. We need you to direct the team so that they can be in and out of there as quickly as possible.”

  “I'll do whatever is needed to get that team back in one piece with what we'll need.” Vincent's tone was as deep and commanding as he could make it. The last thing he wanted was to be so close to a cure only to discover a piece was missing from the puzzle.

  “That's what I wanted to hear. Now, we have the ETA on the team. They should be arriving at SciTech Labs in less than three minutes, so follow me.” Maj. Garrett led them to a room filled with monitors and other communication devices. The employees who worked there busied themselves—typing away on keyboards, or chatting on Bluetooth headsets, or both—as they tried to manage the public response.

  “Here, this is our workstation we set up where you'll direct the team. They should be landing right about now.” Maj. Garrett pointed to a chair in front of a desk with several computer screens on it.

  Vincent sat in the chair and peered at the screens. He ignored the shaky movement from the camera and instead paid close attention to what each soldier was doing and seeing. One looked out of the window of the helicopter seeing people on rooftops waving and screaming to be rescued.

  “This shit is fucked up,” one of the soldiers commented as he surveyed the stranded people.

  “Tell me about it,” said the soldier whose camera Vincent was looking through.

  “Santiago and Marks, keep your heads in the game,” commanded another soldier whose ID on the screen said “Sgt. Jackson”.

  “Yes sir,” they said in unison.

  Inside the headquarters, the others had gathered behind Vincent, watching the monitors as well. They saw that down below, on the streets, more and more of the monsters were rampaging, searching for fresh victims. Through the microphones, one of the other soldiers commented that the zombies didn't seem to be attacking each other.

  “Makes you wonder just how rational these fucking things really are, don't it?” Another soldier commented.

  “Either that, or maybe they don't smell as good to each o
ther as we do to them. Man, this is like some 'Night of the Living Dead' kind of shit,” Cpl. Gary Marks said.

  “Yeah, except 'Night of the Living Dead' was fake. This shit is real and the zombies in that movie ain't nothing like those fucking things down there,” said Sgt. Jackson.

  “Fuck. That was one of my favorite movies, too. I don't know if I can watch it now after all this shit right here,” said another soldier off camera. The name on the screen said PFC. Wilson.

  “Listen. Time to focus and get your shit in gear. We're about to land. Check your ammo. We can't kill these things, but if we shoot these fuckers in the head, they stay down for a little while. Everyone got that?” Sgt. Jackson looked around the helicopter awaiting confirmation.

  “Yes, sir!” the soldiers said.

  “Hell yeah,” Sgt. Jackson said, slamming his clip back into his M16.

  Vincent couldn't help but ponder the aspects of the soldiers’ conversation. In his adrenaline fueled quest to get to safety, he hadn't really taken into account that the zombies—or whatever the hell they were—didn't attack each other upon rising from the dead. They went straight for the living and terrified.

  “Team, this is Maj. William Garrett, I have Dr. Vincent Masterson with me. He's going to be directing you on this mission. I want you to keep your eyes and ears open and get in and out of there in one piece as fast as you can,” Maj. Garrett said, then gestured for Vincent to take over.

  “Can you hear me?” Vincent asked through the Bluetooth headset Maj. Garrett had given him. He fiddled with the headset until he felt comfortable with it attached to his ear.

  “Loud and clear, you're speaking with Sgt. Jackson,” one of the soldiers curtly responded.

  Vincent decided to ignore his tone. He couldn't worry about everyone's opinion of him if he was going to get through this. “Okay, from what I can see, it looks like you're coming in on SciTech Labs.”

  “We have the blueprints downloaded, just tell us where we need to go,” Sgt. Jackson said.

  “When you land, our lab is on the sixth floor. Bio-engineering Level 4, room 608,” Vincent said.

  “Copy-that,” Sgt. Jackson said.

  “What about your weapons, do they have silencers?” Vincent asked.

  “Of course. We know that sound attracts these things,” Sgt. Jackson assured.

  “Good.” Vincent took a deep breath as he gave them another prayer.

  The helicopter landed on the rooftop and the team jumped out. They double timed it to the rooftop door, taking positions to cover the door and each other’s backs. Vincent held his breath as he watched the progress through the soldiers’ viewpoints. As a younger man, he was never interested in joining the military, but he always respected the men and women who did and the sacrifice they made. He appreciated it more now than ever before. It wasn't him going back into that hellhole; it was United States Marines braving the worst of situations. He had to take his hat off to them and at the same time, he gave a silent prayer for their survival.

  The soldiers made their way inside SciTech Labs and quietly headed down the stairs to the 10th level. Sergeant Jackson gave the hand motion for the others to stop and they did. They waited as he cracked open the entrance door, taking a quick peek.

  He closed the door, turning to his team. “We've got four of these things chowing down on a few dead bodies. Shit, I was hoping they'd be gone by now—or at least be on the lower levels. We're going to have to be quick about this. Every bullet's got to count. Aim for their heads.”

  The men in his team nodded and he turned back to the door, opening it slowly. Sgt. Nicholas Jackson took the lead, aiming the barrel of his M16 at one of the feasting zombies. The zombies looked up at the soldiers and Nicholas pulled the trigger. His bullet hit home, blowing out brain matter and shards of skull through the back of the zombie's head. His team reacted quickly, firing their weapons at the others and taking them down. Stealthily, the team made their way towards the mass of dead and undead bodies covered in gore, blood and severed body parts.

  Vincent watched the live action feed and saw the gruesome and dismembered remains of dead humans the zombies were feeding on. He knew them all, fellow scientists and friends. His heart sank to his stomach as he watched the video feed. Just when he was starting to feel guilty again, something caught his eye. His eyebrows creased as he came to a realization.

  Those corpses were so damaged, they stayed dead.

  They were just as horribly mutilated as many of the zombies were that he'd seen so far. Eviscerated, dismembered, but not beheaded.

  “Hey, I think I’ve discovered a connection,” Vincent said, alerting the others.

  “What's that?” Sgt. Jackson and Felicia asked in unison.

  “Look at the dead bodies—the ones those things were feeding on. They’re headless.” Vincent pointed to the bodies.

  “They can't survive or reanimate without their heads,” Felicia concluded.

  “You get that, team. Cut the heads off of those fuckers before they get back up,” Maj. Garrett ordered.

  “I'm already ahead of you, sir,” was Sgt. Jackson's response.

  He and three soldiers were already bending over the bodies of the zombies they'd shot and had taken out their knives. They began to cut through the flesh and bone as fast as they could.

  “This is so fucking disturbing. Poor son of a bitch was probably someone's father or husband,” one of the men commented as he completely decapitated one of the zombies.

  “Better them than us. Keep quiet,” Sgt. Jackson said, slicing through the last bit of skin connecting the zombie's head with his neck.

  The soldiers made quick work of the zombies, tossing the heads away from the bodies. Next, they took a look at the blueprint files on their devices.

  “Okay, we need to get to that end of the hallway. The main stairwell is down there. Keep your eyes and ears open,” Sgt. Jackson said, leading the way. After clearing the stairwell, he lead his team down the staircase to the sixth floor entrance door and gave the hand signal, halting their advancement. Cracking open the door, he took a peak. The hand signal went up again when Sgt. Jackson immediately spotted a body dragging itself along the floor. Its stomach had been ripped open, insides half-eaten. Its throat torn to shreds and it was missing a leg. From the bio-suit it was still wearing, Sgt. Jackson knew it was one of the scientists who worked there.

  “What the fuck?” he whispered; then he looked up and down the hallway. So far, it was just the one zombie they were going to have to deal with. Motioning for his team to join him, he led them towards the zombie crawling their way.

  “Oh my God, Philip,” Vincent gasped. He watched through Nicholas' camera. His friend—the brilliant man that had worked diligently beside him for years had been reduced to a mindless monster.

  Philip's black eyes remained steadfast on the soldiers approaching him. He crawled toward them faster. The scent of their blood filled his nostrils making his hunger rise. He could smell the heat rising off their skin and it was all he could think about—feasting on their flesh.

  “For fuck's sake, put him out of his misery,” Vincent pleaded softly.

  “You don't think we aren't,” Sgt. Jackson replied as he aimed the barrel of his gun at Philip's head and pulled the trigger. Blood, brain matter, and pieces of Phillip’s skull exploded from the back of his head. He didn't stop there. Kneeling, he took his knife and removed the head, placing it beside the body.

  “Shit. Do you hear that?” Cpl. Marks asked.

  “Shhhhh,” Sgt. Jackson said. Everyone remained silent as they listened for whatever Cpl. Marks had heard.

  Down the hall, they could hear it—the sound of footsteps coming towards them, faster and faster.

  “Oh shit! How many of them is it?” one of the soldiers asked, his voice wavering in fear.

  “Get ready!” Sgt. Jackson said, aiming his gun.

  His soldiers positioned themselves in preparation for the attack. Over a dozen zombies rounded the corner, h
eading towards them at top speed.

  “Shit! Fall back!” Sgt. Jackson commanded, seeing that they were grossly outnumbered.

  The soldiers ran back through the door heading up the stairwell. The zombies followed them, catching up with ease. They grabbed one of the soldiers, bringing him down from behind. He screamed as his gun went off, firing dozens of bullets in the air and towards the attacking zombies. Bullets ripped through the flesh of one zombie's face, tearing away skin and muscle revealing the white of his teeth through the holes in its cheek. The other soldiers turned and fired into the mob as several of them began to feast on the soldier they had caught.

  “We have to leave him, let's go!” ordered Sgt. Jackson as he began to rush up the stairs.

  Several zombies followed him and his men as they tried to retreat. One of the zombies reached out, grabbing a hold of another soldier's ankle, tripping him. A second zombie latched onto his shoulders as it sank its bloodied teeth into his jaw, ripping away a huge chunk of flesh. The soldier screamed wildly as he struggled to break free. More zombies climbed on top of him. Others crawled over him as they rushed to get to the remaining soldiers.

  Sgt. Jackson and Cpl. Marks fired repeatedly, aiming for their heads and hitting some targets. Above them, the door swung open and five more zombies rushed at them, trapping them in the middle.

  “Fuck!” Sgt. Jackson said, turning and placing his back against Marks as he tried his best to cover them.

  “Jesus Christ!” Vincent said, as he watched them getting attacked. “They're going to die.” He couldn't believe what he was seeing even though he knew it was real.

  “Marks, it was an honor,” Nicholas said, firing away, making sure every bullet counted.