by M. Evans
"Then how did she qualify as not serious when she has stage five cancer? Ellie gave me all the details, but with the hope that she had in her eyes today I didn't have the heart to tell her that stage five meant it was terminal! I'm lost as to why she couldn't tell her own daughter what was happening. If she's that sick, she's going to lose eventually! There's no recovery from terminal cancer! If there was, there wouldn't be a reason to have stages. Do you think I'm an imbecile!?"
Frank didn't really have anything intelligent to say. He wasn't sure if he could tell a thirteen-year-old that he might very well have the cure to cancer, and at this very time he was working on the details to ensure the woman he planned to marry would be around for many years to come. "No, Shaun, I don't think you're an imbecile. I just don't know how many details I can discuss with you. We didn't think that Ellie needed to know the final details. We are hopeful that some alternative medicine might help make things better for Karen. We just don't know enough to be able to tell. We didn't want her to be worried more than necessary."
"So the fact that you took a truckload-worth of dusty papers to your office has absolutely nothing to do with Karen or her cancer, right? It's probably just a coincidence that you took them the day after you found out. You probably don't have any false hopes that modern day medicine can't do exactly what it's supposed to. I mean, hell, dad! It worked wonders for mom, right?"
Frank slammed his hand on the door in disgust at Shaun He shook his head, amazed his son would have the balls to accuse him, although he wasn't really sure what he was trying to accuse him of. "That's enough! I don't know what answer your looking for, Shaun, but if you're just looking for a fight, you picked the wrong guy! It's been a long God damn day, and I'm going to bed! I suggest that you do the same!"
Shaun didn't say anything. He reached up, turned the knob for his lamp, and sat in silence watching his dad fade away down the dark hallway. For Karen's sake he hoped whatever drugs she was going to be taking worked.
Chapter 11
Day -3156: October 8th, 2008. World Population 6,698,341,485
Dr. Michaels and Dr. Christophers stared in disbelief across the operating table at each other. Horror and complete confusion painted their faces. Both doctors had over a decade of medical experience under their belts, but neither man had ever seen anything like this. Lying between the two scientists was the deceased Patient A, formerly known as Sergeant Daniels.
Running down the middle of his chest was an open y-incision which started just below his navel and ended at the top of his chest. They were staring down in shock, everything was there that should be including a very bloody heart--the central component to a body. Michaels used a surgical tool to prod at it and move it around to further examine it. It still had the faintest of beats six hours after the .45 caliber that killed him went through the rear of his brain cavity and exited through his front left lobe, immediately dropping the young solider.
"Holy mother of God, how can it still be beating?"
"It probably has something to do with the drug.... I mean, we've seen a patient once in a while gets twitches after they are dead, right?"
Christophers looked Michaels in the eye, pointing directly to the heart. "Are you being serious right now? There is no explanation for this at all! Absolutely none! Can you show me one--not two--just one documented case where a patient whose heart exploded was still on his feet? The only things that put him down was the bullet through his skull. If the Ranger hadn't put one in his skull he would have gone after them like he did Dr. Moffenberg!"
"So what do we tell Major Stevenson about the autopsy?"
Christophers looked around the empty room shaking his head. No one was in there. They had seen to it a complete lockdown had taken place on this before they checked over the body. Shooting test subjects who had not volunteered and then went insane was not a popular practice. The Major had made sure they understood--this was going to be as clean as possible with no knowledge about it leaving here. Christophers mumbled, "What exactly do you want to tell him first? The fact this drug we helped design blows up patients hearts? The fact they, for some reason, have no problem eating their flesh and anyone else's that stands in their way? Or that we disobeyed direct orders to do the autopsy and report the findings before moving on with testing?"
Michaels wiped the drops of sweat from his forehead onto his white lab coat and started shaking his head. "Do you think he's going to court martial us?"
"Well, we sure as hell aren't going to get a medal for disobeying him and giving out the wonder drug that puts people in a zombie-like state, are we? Jesus, Michaels! We gave it to twenty-five men! It would seem the only intelligent thing to do would be to take an AR-15 in the ward and pump rounds into them until we have every last one of them on a slab!"
"Well, couldn't we put a spin on this?"
"What the hell do you mean?"
Michaels smiled, "We didn't expect this to happen, but if you put this ... formula ... in the enemy's system, we could go in like fish in a barrel popping them off with no worries."
Christophers held up his hands, palms out. "Wait just a minute! Can you imagine what urban warfare would be with these things jumping out of windows and off the sides of buildings without feeling anything or having any fear? Tearing the flesh off of our soldiers' faces? Look at Moffenberg for God sakes! He's going to take months to recover and the skin grafts he'll have to endure to get back to looking somewhat like he did before will take even longer!"
The intercom buzzed, scaring the hell out of both of them. A nurse's voice enquired, "Doctors Michaels and Christophers, are you available?"
Michaels hit the button and responded, "What is it? Do you need something? We are in the middle of something."
"Sir, you asked to be notified if Dr. Moffenberg showed any signs of change. Well, he has been stirring in his bed for the last ten minutes. I don't know if it's bad dreams or that he's coming out of it, sir, but he had quite a heavy sedative so we would be able to stabilize him. We didn't expect him to come around for days."
Christophers barked, "Well, find out what's going on! What video feed is his room on? We'd like to observe as much as possible. He shouldn't be coming out of it. He could be in terrible pain if he makes any effort to move!"
The nurse responded, "I'll send one of the senior nurses we have to care for him. I think Nurse Pearson is available--if I can tear her away from the internet slots for a minute.... Check feed seven-three-seven-nine. That should be it."
"We all have to make sacrifices," Michaels argued. "Just tell her he's high priority. Christophers, switch on that computer so we can see what is going on with him. I don't understand the damn thing!"
Christophers flicked on the computer and tapped a couple of keys--doing his magic bringing the machine to life. Michaels took a seat as Christophers finished typing in final commands. They peered at the screen taking a moment to realize what they were seeing. Christophers pointed a trembling finger. "Would you look at this!? I can't believe the man is standing! What the hell's he doing?"
They watched Moffenberg standing up unassisted, walking lethargically around the empty room. He looked at his arm and started tearing at the bandages, and he didn't stop until he reached skin, ripping the flesh from his arm with his teeth.
"What in the hell is wrong with him?" Michaels asked. "Call the nurse and warn them to hold off going in there! He's showing the same signs as what Daniels was doing."
Christophers picked up the phone to dial as they watched a nurse entered the room with a tray of instruments. "He didn't even get the dosage. Do you think it's viral? Oh, God, help us! She's going in there!"
Like a bell had gone off waking up Moffenberg, he looked over at the intrusion of silence in his room and met eyes with the nurse. "Hello, doctor," she enquired, "are you okay? We didn't think you would be up this quickly, sir."
He looked her in the eyes with bloody saliva running from his mouth. She was blurry through the blood seeping from his eyes.
She took stock of him, and saw the bleeding eyes and the fresh wound on his arm. "Oh my God! What happened to your arm! Did someone hurt you!?" Next she noticed the blood from his eyes and ran up to him, trying to guide him to his bed. "Please sit down before you injure yourself further."
That was the last sentence nurse Pearson would ever speak. The injured doctor lunged for her outstretched helping arms, grabbed her by the scrub shirt and pulled her in while making some sort of a groan or growl. She screamed at the top of her lungs. He buried his teeth deep into her jugular ripping through her skin and viciously tearing away at it and everything that was beneath it. He threw her to the ground, looked around and ran to the door that she had just come from and started hammering on it, unable to figure out the knob. The nurse had a spasm on the floor. She was losing dangerous amounts of blood while the two doctors watched as Moffenberg was doing something with his jaw.
Christophers bent over from his seat puking everywhere on the floor, coughing and gagging. Everything he'd eaten that day was spread everywhere. Michaels felt sick to his stomach seeing this happening.
"Oh, shit!" Michaels continued, "Would you look at his jaw? Do you see that? Do you god damn see that!?"
Christophers wiped his face on his lab coat, pulling himself up to the table, and stared at the image. "What is he doing?"
Michaels was already trying to pick up a phone to dial a new number.
"Are you calling the nurses station?"
"I'm calling Major Stevenson, and then I'm calling the Rangers. He's chewing ... he's ... eating her!"
"Oh my God! You're right! What are we calling the rangers for? Call the military police to come arrest this crazy bastard! He's lost it!"
"You don't get it! I'm not calling for Moffenberg! I'm calling for the twenty-five men we've injected with this who were resting in an unguarded room with other soldiers."
Michaels dialed the office of Major Stevenson on speaker. "Sir! There's something horribly wrong with the vapor we designed! Things we couldn't possibly have expected to happen are happening, sir!"
"Could you possibly be any more vague, doctor? What exactly are you talking about, son? We have to crack a few eggs to make an omelet, right?"
Christophers chimed in, "Sir, this is the Holy Mother Mary of omelets! The doctor who was attacked earlier is awake!"
The Major considered this. "How is that a bad thing?"
Christophers shouted, "Sir! He's eating a nurse!"
"Did I hear your right, son? What the hell did you do to that man!?"
Michaels answered, "He didn't have any exposure, sir. He was bitten! Oh my God! It spreads, sir! The antidote Daniels had was the root of this, I think. It's the only explanation for any of this! We need to evacuate the healthy off of the base!"
"That's out of the question! I'm going to assemble the Rangers and we'll get this taken care of. You two try not to do anything stupid in the meantime!"
They both watched the monitor and saw that he had eaten all the way through her neck. Her head, no longer connected, had rolled under the bed. Moffenberg was pulling intestines out by the handful, gorging himself.
Michaels managed, "I think I'm going to be sick."
Christophers looked in awe, adjusting the security camera lens in the lab, calibrating for the perfect image, whizzing and zooming. Moffenberg could only be seen hunched over the dead nurse, sitting on his feet and squatting next to her, his hands moving quickly to his mouth. The back and sides of his hospital gown were soaked through with blood making it appear black.
Michaels continued, "That's disgusting! What's wrong with him!? Why are you getting a better picture!?"
Just then Moffenberg stopped eating, raised his head straightening his shoulders a little, and slowly bent his back up straight. "He hears it--would you look--he hears the lens adjusting in the room!"
Moffenberg turned his head slowly, tilting it to the side. His mouth was open, full, and filled with bloody pieces of Nurse Pearson's intestines. He still had one hand buried deep in her torso. He roared at the lens, making both doctors jump a foot in the air. Moffenberg got to his feet slowly and walked to the door, a handful of guts dragging behind.
Michaels' chest was heaving. Breathing heavily at this point he gasped, "He thinks he can get out the door! Look at him! What's he thinking?"
Christophers pointed at the screen. "Look at the handle. All he has to do is...."
The two doctors read the word on the handle in unison. "... Push."
Moffenberg made his way out, not pushing with his hand and outstretched hands like a normal person--he walked into it with his face and chest. They watched in horror as the door slid shut behind him, blood and guts smeared all against it and down the side, Moffenberg no longer in the room or camera's view.
"Where is he going?" Michaels managed.
Christophers smacked him on the shoulder hard. "How in the hell should I know! From the look of the nurse, I'd say that he is looking for ... food."
They looked at the remnants of a bloody disaster of a room, a life ruined in a matter of seconds.
"He's in the hallway with the staff and patients," Christophers thought aloud.
"We have to warn them! We have to warn everybody!" Without hesitation he ran to the wall and pulled the red security alarm. It was the highest alarm that could be pulled on the base, and the loud speaker announced code red after he pulled it.
Christophers was watching intently, and looked up the second he'd found the hallway channel on the video feed to see the alarm switch being pulled down. "Don't pull the alarm!" he screamed. "You'll kill us all!"
But it was too late. The room went black when the lights cut off, and started to glow red when the emergency bulbs came to life.
"We have to warn them," Michaels told him. "They don't deserve this. They're just doing their job."
"Agreed, but you just locked all the innocent people in the building with twenty-five of those ravenous freaks!"
"But they're sleeping still." The siren screamed through the building and across the base. Michaels held up his hands awkwardly towards Christophers. "I know! Don't say it! If I could take it back I would, but for right now, let's get out of here!"
They went to leave and saw a young, thin, unsuspecting orderly dressed in white on the screen. The man never had time to process what he was looking at. Moffenberg jumped up and landed on the man's chest knocking him to the ground. With both arms gripping the man's head, he smashed it repeatedly on the white tile floor, turning it red as his head began to bleed. He tore the man's left arm from the limb leaving scraps of skin on the ground and ligaments dangling off of the socket. Moffenberg dropped the arm, not interested in it, ripped the man's shirt from his chest and gruesomely started tearing the flesh away. He had a hunger that could not be filled. He stood back up, leaving the twitching orderly on the ground, picking up the arm and eating it like a turkey leg as he walked to find his next victim.
The two doctors stared at the video feed. The hallway outside their doors seemed to be clear--they were hoping that, if they could get out of the secured building, they might have a chance. Unless a full army brigade saved them then there was no hope.
Christophers and Michaels walked slowly through the hallway. Trying to listen for sounds was pointless until the siren finally died down. A recorded voice came over the loud speakers: "Please do not be alarmed. Until otherwise directed, this is only a drill. Please head to your designated spot in the wards. You will be escorted in a timely fashion to a safety bunker. Again this is only a drill."
The lights continued to flash. Michaels pulled on Christophers' sleeve. They tried to melt into the beige walls when a military police team of two was clearly heading their way. Both men were over six foot and had assault rifles slung over their back. They were holding pistols in their hands and had the sights of their pistols locked on the two doctors. The ranking officer barked, "Doctors! This is not a warning! Please move to your designated areas!"
From nowhere
, a bloody, boney hand reached out of a window, clasped onto the officer's shirt, and pulled all two hundred and twenty pounds of the officer through it. His pistol caught on the frame, falling to the floor and discharging as the gun struck the concrete. The bullet from the pistol ricocheted off of the wall and ended up in the second officer's skull, spraying his blood all across the back of the wall, dropping him instantly. A blood curdling shriek filled with moans of agony came from the ward. Scream after gurgling scream came from the officer that had been pulled through the window. Then they stopped.
The doctors looked quickly into the ward from a safe distance to see what was happening, and realized that if ever there was a human smorgasbord, this was it.
There were hundreds of men stacked on bunks from a recent battle--trapped men, stuck in their beds, unable to move, praying for death but praying for a miracle more. The men who had received the vapor injection were putting these poor soldiers, young and old, out of their misery ... or at least that is what it looked like.
"Would you look at that?" Michaels whimpered. "For the love of all that's holy, I cannot believe this! This is the most horrible thing I have ever seen! What are we going to do!? We have to do something! We have to!"
Christophers smacked him across the face. "We have to get out of here! We are the only ones left on the team that know anything about what's going on! If we don't survive, then the country could be lost! What happens if it made it to the states!? That could be horrific!"
"Are you kidding me!? If this got out back home, there'd be nowhere to go! These things would hunt every last person down!"
They could hear a bullhorn from outside, the Major's voice screaming loudly over it. "We are going to quarantine the building, and no one will be allowed to leave! If you are not infected please find a safe place to hide! Soldiers will be entering the building as soon as they can get their forces put together to clear out the ill!"
Christophers frowned. "I don't buy that for one minute! They're going to clean everything out, and anyone left will be put in a cage or a glass bottle--whatever they fit into best. There's no winning situation here, is there!?"