Halfway down the hall he picked up on a strange noise coming from one of the doors. The humming sounded like a fan or small motor. He started to move along the hall, but stopped after a few steps, not liking the idea of leaving this unknown behind him.
Quietly shouldering his rifle, he unclipped the crossbow from his belt ring and held it out in front. With his offhand he carefully twisted the doorknob. It turned with a slight click. The swollen door wedged in the jam, requiring a decent shove to free it. The ragged squeal of wood rubbing on wood caused him to grimace.
The room was shrouded in darkness, only the faint hallway light spilled in. Even with the door open he was unable to see what was making the noise. Alarms were going off in his mind. Fear and panic rose in his throat, nearly making him back out. He pushed the feelings back down, knowing they would never leave if he didn’t resolve this right now.
It was too dark to see anything and he didn’t want his flashlight giving away his location, so he carefully closed the door, blanketing himself in pitch black. His heart hammered in his chest. He slid the flashlight out of his belt pouch, desperately feeling for the button to activate it. With a click the bright light shot out, casting a harsh glow across the floor at Hank’s feet. Plastic pink caps dotted the floor. He raised the flashlight and was startled when he found the source of the noise.
The emaciated man was nearly skeletal from lack of food. His dirty, torn clothes barely clung to what was left of his body. The man had his back to Hank and was clawing at the wall. His fingers had worn through the sheetrock and found the plywood beneath. The wood was rubbed smooth and the man’s fingers had been worn to bloody stumps as he continued to scrape away relentlessly.
Between Hank and the man was a makeshift cage created out of bed frames and barbed wire. Hank stepped up to the fence, standing just a couple feet away from the man. He either did not notice Hank’s presence or could not pull himself from the task at hand.
Hank shown the light on the floor at the man’s feet and found more of the pink caps as well as some spent syringes. He followed the pink trail until his light hit on a small corner table that had a clipboard and two boxes sitting on top. A quick glance in the boxes revealed one with used syringes and another with neatly organized glass vials and a stack of disposable syringe packs.
He grabbed the clipboard and looked over the top sheet. It had columns filled with dates, times, and signatures. The last date marked was nearly two months ago. Nothing else was written to give away the purpose of either the syringes or the clipboard’s records. One of the vials didn’t offer many more answers. The tiny labels were only marked with “VX00241.”
Not wanting to spend any more time in this creepy room Hank raised his crossbow and moved over toward the man. “Hey, you there?” Hank said. He waited a few seconds and then added, “Hey.” No response. With a click, he released a bolt. It streaked across the small span, striking the man in the back of the skull. Like a ragdoll he collapsed to the floor, ending the mind numbing scrapping noise. An eerie silence washed over the small room.
Hank stood there for a moment, watching the fallen man and eyeing the bolt embedded in his head. Deciding that it wasn’t worth the risk, Hank pulled a bolt off the top of the crossbow and reloaded the weapon. He clipped the crossbow back to his belt ring and pulled the rifle from his shoulder. Before opening the door he clicked his flashlight off and listened for several seconds.
Once in the hall he continued moving toward the window at the far end. Each door he passed made him wonder what lay behind. Were there more test subjects or whatever that was? He could only guess what was going on, but it seemed likely they were testing hopeful cures on the man.
Eight feet away from the window the hall split again. On his left a narrow stairway led to the third floor. Leaving the stairs for later, Hank tucked in close to the wall and slowly moved toward the window. He tried to stay tucked to the wall using the shadows as much as possible.
It was just as he stepped up to the window that the glass shattered and white hot pain shot through his neck and shoulder. He dropped to the floor, landing on the shards of glass. Another boom sounded and a round slammed into the wall above him. Drywall debris flew into the air. Hank lay on his side using his feet to slide along the floor. Warm blood oozed from his neck and shoulder.
Once he reached the corner that led to the stairs he dragged himself into the narrow opening and rose to a sitting position on the first step. “Son of a… ahhh …man that hurts.” He grumbled to himself. His hand went to his neck, feeling the gash. His fingers probed the torn flesh and he was glad to find that it wasn’t very deep. The round had been fired from down low, catching the edge of his shoulder and winging his neck as it passed up toward the top of the wall. “Dirtbags.” He said under his breath. As the blood slowed, he rose back to a standing position and turned, heading up the worn stairs.
******
When the shots rang out, Axel grabbed April by the arm, “We’re not sitting in here.” He began to pull her to her feet.
“They said to stay here.”
“No way, we’re trapped.”
She had a panicked look on her face. The thought of going back out there, with only Axel, terrified her. “The plan was –“
“They’re going to leave us.”
“They’ll come back.”
He forced her to standing. “We’re leaving.”
Chapter 11 - Cost
Tom jumped when the shots rang out. They sounded close…maybe just outside the cafeteria. He was almost sure they were from outside, ground level, which would mean it was from the ghosts. Hannah must have thought the same thing, because her head turned and she was looking directly toward the wall that lay between them and the outside. Tom gave her a “stay put” motion, knowing that unless there were more shots they had to hope someone would get antsy and start moving into the building.
It didn’t take very long. Tom heard it before he saw it; the slight metallic rattle of a doorknob. A sliver of light cut across the floor of the cafeteria. With a barely audible creak the door continued to swing open and the swath of light grew until it lit most of the cafeteria tables.
Tom’s heart pounded in his chest. His body knew it was go time and began pumping adrenaline through his veins. He tried to take a few steadying breaths, knowing he had to control the energy. His grip tightened on his rifle as he tucked back into the shadows as much as possible.
Hannah on the other hand had never been so ready for something in her life. This is exactly what she had been waiting for, and they finally had a tactical advantage. She held the rifle tight to her shoulder and used her thumb to double check that the safety was off. She knew it was off and also knew she would check it again in about fifteen seconds, but it helped calm her nerves.
A rifle barrel poked through the open doorway, followed by a man in camo. He was slightly crouched with his rifle tight to his shoulder, eyes focused on a quick acquisition scope mounted to the top of his M4. He checked left and right for any immediate threats and then began to work heel to toe across the cafeteria. His trajectory would take him right in front of Tom and Hannah. He was oblivious to the fact that he would soon be entering their kill zone.
Tom wanted to interrogate the man, but knew it would be very risky to remain exposed after shouting the rifle out of his hands. He was just about to twist into the opening and light the guy up when the man suddenly dropped out of sight behind a table. Tom eyed the table. Had he seen me…or Hannah? Why did he suddenly hide?
From the hall Tom and Hannah had entered through came the soft sound of a whispering voice. It was too low to make out the words, but this is surely why Camo ducked down. Tom couldn’t see the opening from his vantage point, but as the voices got closer he recognized one of them as April’s. What are they doing? Tom was pissed. They were going to walk right to their deaths unless Tom or Hannah did something.
Tom slowly twisted his head to see what Hannah was doing. She had her eyes focused o
n the open doorway, surely watching them enter. Her face dripped intensity, focus oozing from his pores.
The whispering voices got louder. He had to do something. With a slight twist he was able to get his rifle pointed through the open doorway. Cack …cack …cack … He sent three rounds into the table Camo had disappeared behind. Wood splintered and small holes ripped through the thinly paneled tabletop.
April let out a wicked scream.
Rifle fire erupted from behind the overturned table.
Tom could just make out the muzzle flash near the front edge of a tipped over chair. He fired off a volley of shots near the floor. A shout of pain issued from the other side.
“Kitchen! In the kitchen!” The man shouted.
Hannah’s rifle roared as she sent shots into Camo’s hideout.
Tom rattled off another volley as well. Wood chips flew into the air as holes were hammered into the furniture. The withering gunfire left the table in ruins. Giant chunks of wood were missing, leaving gaping holes like portals on ship. Through one of these Tom could see the man’s camouflage clothing. It was motionless.
Tom jumped when there was a thud at the kitchen door behind them. Boom…boom… Someone was pounding the door into the table he and Hannah had slid in front.
The banging stopped. “Frank! You in there?” Someone shouted from the other side. Whispering followed.
Tom strained to hear what was being said, but it was unintelligible. He looked over at Hannah. She had a view of the door and was staring straight at it. With a twist she spun around and pointed her rifle directly at the door. Her rifle thundered and kicked with three rapid shots. Brass shell casings ricocheted off the wall, landed on the tile, and rolled slowly toward Tom’s feet. An eerie silence followed.
While Hannah kept an eye on the door, Tom spun around and watched the cafeteria. Camo remained in place behind the obliterated table and chair.
“We should move.” Hannah said.
Tom agreed. The remaining ghosts knew their location and nothing good could come from that. “Good plan.”
He was just beginning to rise to his feet when loud voices forced him back to a kneeling position. They were crazy loud and rapidly getting even louder. An object slid into view in the center of the cafeteria, near Camo’s body. The voices were emanating from the device. The old tape recorder was blaring an old Cosby standup routine and the roar of laughter was extremely out of place.
A bang sounded from outside the building.
Tom pointed his rifle at the tape player and squeezed the trigger. The round went high, narrowly missing the noise box. He pulled the trigger again, but nothing. He swiftly dropped the empty mag out and reached to his chest pouch for a spare.
Shrieks and growls sounded from just outside the cafeteria double doors. The pounding of feet, like rolling thunder, raced in front of the horde that was drawn to the sound of human voices. Tom slammed the fresh mag into the well and charged the weapon. A quick squeeze of the trigger ended the standup routine, but the damage was already done. Giant shadows were sprinting into the room.
“We need to move.” Hannah said as she back peddled away from the stainless counter.
Tom rose to a half crouch and looked to the hall entrance that Axel and April were last at. The shadowed entryway sat empty. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the first demented racing into view. The entryway was out of reach and he knew it. Hannah did as well; she was already turning for the rear door. Tom stayed low and followed after her, hoping the demented would not notice either of them.
Hannah reached the door with the counter pulled in front and hesitated.
“What’s up?” Tom whispered as he raced up next to her.
“They’re trying to flush us out. They’ll be waiting to gun us down.”
Tom knew she was right. His throat tightened as he heard the guttural growls of demented behind them. They were filling the cafeteria and would soon be spilling into the kitchen. Tom spun around surveying the area.
“Over here.” He said , spotting what he hoped would save them.
The two of them ran over to the large walk in freezer door and Tom yanked on the heavy handle. The stench of rot washed over them. Hannah covered her mouth with her sleeve and headed into the dark opening. Tom took a look back and wondered if they should try to shoot their way out, but he had no idea how many infected there would be. He checked the heavy door to make sure it had an interior latch release and once he saw the red paddle button he stepped into the darkness and pulled the door closed behind him. The ominous click shrouded them in pitch black silence.
******
Kelly could smell the smoke before she could see it. The acrid smell was more than just smoke; it was the un-natural scent of man made products burning. When the plume came into view through the trees it was deep black and emanating from multiple locations.
For what seemed like the first time since leaving the cabin, she eased off the throttle. The old snowmobile had done better than she ever could have hoped for. Floating over the snow she was easily able to dodge any infected she saw and they were able to quickly outdistance any that tried to follow. As she eased off the throttle, the engine began to sputter, so she sped back up, not wanting it to die.
The giant log wall came into full view as she shot out of the thick stand of trees and into an open field. Most of the snow was gone, but the skids slid easily across the matted down field grass. Smoke rolled upwards from behind the fortress wall. Orange flames licked angrily at the billowing darkness as it escaped skyward. There looked to be three separate fires inside the compound.
Once she was within twenty yards of the wall she slowed to a stop, hesitating with indecision. She tried to listen, but the rumble of the snowmobile drowned out any noises that might be present. The engine made the decision for her when it sputtered and went silent. Shouts and screams made Kelly’s neck hair stand on end.
Sam sat between her and the handlebars. He slowly twisted his head around, looking up at his mom with curious eyes. His face was pale as he took in rapid breaths trying desperately to get oxygen to his liquid filled lungs. His mouth opened to say something, but then closed again, leaving whatever it was unsaid.
“Okay hun , we have to try.” She said while standing up next to the snowmobile. After a quick glance all around, she left her rifle shouldered and helped Sam to his feet. Despite his size, she lifted him up and packed him toward the small man sized door next to the huge metal gate. She eyed the guard towers that overlooked the entrance, and she was glad to see them both unmanned. At least she thought that was a good thing.
The man door was locked from the inside, which she expected. “Stay right here.” She said while leaning Sam up against the wall. Looking over the giant gate, she found it locked as well. Wire and sheet metal covered a pair of green tube gates that had been welded together. Along the edge, closest to the hinges, she found enough foot and hand holds to begin climbing. The metal shook and rattled as she made her way to the top.
Her head cleared the upper rail, allowing a view of what lay inside. It reminded her of the Sunday morning shows where they asked people to donate money for third world countries where children were struggling. The mix of houses, tents, and shacks was astounding. The nearest fire was a small camp trailer fully engulfed in flames. A couple people stood well away, arms crossed, rifles over their shoulders. A woman sat on her knees a half dozen paces in front of them. There were two other structures on fire, but they were farther back in the town and she couldn’t see the exact source.
It was while she was climbing back down the other side that people started shouting from somewhere inside the town. She dropped to the ground. More shouts, getting closer. She rushed over to the door and pulled back a large metal locking bar. Shouts and pounding feet grew louder. Sam still leaned against the wall, looking down at the ground. She helped him through the entryway and closed the door.
“Don’t move!” A man shouted.
Kelly slowly spun around.
Two men stood twenty feet away with their rifles aimed directly at her. Neither of them lowered their barrels when they saw it was a woman and her child. “He’s sick, we need help.” She said.
Both men took a couple steps back.
“Not like that. He’s not infected.”
“Stay away.” One of the men shouted.
The other one lowered his rifle a few inches. “Both of you go right back out that door.”
“He has pneumonia.”
“I don’t care what he’s got, get out.”
Kelly held a hand out and took a slow step forward. “Please –“
“Stop! One more step and we will shoot both of you.”
Kelly wasn’t about to give up. She didn’t come all this way to leave empty handed. Sam needed medicine or he would die. “Antibiotics…we just need antibiotics.”
“Out!”
“He’s not turning.” She shouted back angrily.
“I’m giving you ten seconds. If you’re still here we’re going to shoot.”
“Antibiotics and we will leave.”
“Ten…nine…”
Kelly wasn’t sure if they would really shoot a woman and child, but she also didn’t want to find out. “Please.”
“Eight…seven…six…”
The man that had previously lowered his rifle a few inches now raised it back up, barrel pointing directly at Kelly’s chest.
“We can trade…snowmobile for antibiotics.”
“Five…four…”
“Rifle…ammo?” Kelly asked desperately hoping they would make a trade. She wasn’t going to leave, if they shot her down then so be it.
“Three…two…”
She saw both men drop their fingers down to their triggers. They were going to do it. These barbarians were going to gun down a woman and child in cold blood. “Hannah said you would help…said you had a doctor.” She spit out frantically.
Mr. Countdown stopped. Both men stood there, unmoving, for several seconds. “How do you know Hannah?”
Kelly’s heart thundered with hope. The words spilled out of her in a jumble. “Cabin…she came to our cabin…Tom and I’s. She left with him in hopes of finding a cure. Here…they were coming here first. Did you see Tom? He’s my husband. We went –“
The Demented Z (Book 3): Contagion Page 8