by B. M. Hodges
“This jerk tried to kidnap me back at Jamie’s flat!” Abigail answered for him. “He’s with Vitura and he asked after you, Tomas.” Then she said snidely, “Don’t worry though, he’s a fool. I’m sure he’ll present an opportunity for us to away from him. I already did once.”
Jayden blushed at the dig. Why would what she thought be of any concern?
“Stand aside,” was his reply. He activated the plasma attachment and, when they were clear, fired at the security gate. There was a flash, and half the gate vaporized. Tomas and Abigail were too close and began coughing violently as noxious fumes filled the corridor.
Jayden laughed. It felt good to get back a little control. “Okay kids, here’s the deal. I’m under orders to retrieve two girls from the island: you and your friend. My orders are to retrieve you alive if at all possible. But if that is not possible, I’m supposed to bring proof of death.” He paused to let the threat sink in. “Proof of death is sufficient for my mission, but I’d prefer not to kill two young ladies in cold blood. Assuming Jamie is in the hospital above, we will retrieve her and retreat to the evac point. Overstreet, taking you alive and bringing you in is the bonus. You can come along for the ride so long as you don’t try anything stupid. Do as I say and I will protect you and we will get out of here alive. Disobey and I’ll take your scalps instead, got it?”
Taking silence as affirmation, Jayden took his helmet from Abigail and motioned them forward through the hole in the security gate. He followed close behind, ever cognizant of the possibility of a zombie ambush on the other side.
Once through the gate, after determining there was no immediate threat, he put on the helmet, accessed the display menu using well-practiced and choreographed eye movements and flipped on a tiny forward light, illuminating the hall with spotlight clarity.
“Tshh. Wish I’d known it could do that,” Abigail mumbled to Tomas.
“No talking. Stay in front of the beam and do not look directly into it unless you want permanent damage. The light may attract unwanted attention. I want to see the two of you at all times. Step out of the beam and you risk being attacked or shot by me.”
The continued into the interior of the basement, following the signs above which indicated that the bank of elevators and stairs were directly ahead.
They moved down the hallway and, from what they could see, the basement foyer of Gleneagles was deserted. The circular reception desk was unmanned, its bank of monitors connected to cameras throughout the complex showing nothing but snow.
There was still some sort of minimal auxiliary power source running, probably meant to keep critical lifesaving machines from being affected by a general power outage. But Abigail had expected there to be a secondary generator running the lights. This is Gleneagles after all. It’s supposed to be top-notch care with no expense spared.
They found the stairwell door easy enough, but when they tried to open it, they found that someone had barricaded it from the inside.
“Didn’t expect that, did you?” Abigail asked Jayden, careful not to look back into the helmet’s light. She couldn’t help but be rude to him.
He pressed the elevator button. It lit up and the lift began descending to their floor. “And you didn’t expect the elevator to work, did you? Now step aside.”
Tomas and Abigail did as they were told and stepped away from the elevator doors.
All the while, Tomas was scheming a way to escape. If he were alone, he would have already tried to get away. But the danger of harming Abigail was too great, so he bided his time and waited for an opportunity, which he figured was bound to happen in a zombie fever epicenter.
Bing.
Jayden raised his rifle and Abigail and Tomas readied for a fight, both wishing for the discarded spear that Jayden had made them toss aside.
The elevators doors slid open but there was no attack.
The elevator was empty, spotless even.
Abigail relaxed her fists.
Jayden motioned them into the lift with his rifle, “Now turn, face the rear, get down on your knees and put your hands on your heads.”
They complied and Jayden stepped inside behind them, “Floor?” he asked Abigail.
“Eight.”
Jayden pushed the button for the eighth floor and covered the doors as the lift rose.
Being trapped in the elevator was worse than waiting to be attacked in the darkened hallways. If they were attacked when the doors opened, Abigail and Tomas had little chance to defend themselves.
“Is this wise? We’re helpless down here,” she complained.
“Shhh.” Jayden braced himself for an onslaught as the lift slowed to a stop.
Bing.
The elevator doors opened.
“Arghhhh!” A man in a white doctor’s coat cried as he jumped through the doors.
Whump. Whump.
The rifle puffed two rounds into the man’s chest, but his forward momentum continued and he slammed into Jayden, grabbing hold of him in a bear grip.
“Why did you shoot me?” he whispered with a look of surprise on his face as he slid down to the floor.
Abigail couldn’t help it. Forgetting she was supposed to be a captive, she turned to the man scrunched in a heap on the ground and laid him out straight.
Jayden was already out of the elevator and scanning the blood soaked hallway, covering both sides for attackers. Down at the far end of the southern corridor, he spotted movement and checked with his scope. Sure enough, three infected were feasting together on the mutilated corpse of a dead woman. If they had heard the elevator or the yells of the man in the lab coat, they were too focused on their fresh kill to bother.
Abigail checked the man’s pulse. His name tag said, “Dr. Pradeep Singh.” She pressed her fingers on his carotid artery. She could feel an erratic beat. She leaned close to his face to check whether he was breathing and his eyes popped open, “Madmen are going room to room and killing all the helpless patients,” he whispered. “Please, do something for them … such a horrible way to die …” his eyes closed and his whisper trailed off as he passed on.
“Room?” Jayden asked, focused on the trio of zombies.
“I … I don’t remember, but it’s definitely that way near the end.” Abigail pointed down the southern corridor.
That was all Jayden had to hear.
Whump. Whump. Whump.
“Clear.” He reached in to the lift and took Tomas by the collar, hauling him to his feet and pushing him in front beside Abigail. He had seen the looks they had been giving each other. There were feelings brewing between the two of them. Anyone would be able to see it. Figuring he could use it to control Tomas, he said, “Overstreet, you try anything and I hobble the girl.”
Tomas grimaced at the thought, his urge to escape quashed. Watching this mercenary in action, he realized he may have been underestimating his skill and willingness to use his weapon against any threat.
“Now walk. But take it slow. I need to check each room as we go. Don’t want anything sneaking up on us from behind.”
They walked to the first set of doors and Jayden peered inside, shook his head, closed the door and busted off the handle.
Abigail looked inside before the door closed and saw mangled corpses lying on the floor.
They continued down the hallway, one door at a time. It looked as if the doctor had been correct: each room had become a slaughterhouse. A few times Jayden shot into the rooms, but Abigail wasn’t able to see who or what he was shooting at. She silently wondered whether he was killing infected inside or mercy killing the occupants inside.
Abigail’s heart pounded in her chest as Jayden swept each room for threats and tore off the door handles as a way to mark them as cleared. Jamie, please be safe.
They were halfway down the hall when the situation took a turn for the worse.
Jayden was clearing a room when they heard the next door in the hallway creak open.
Jayden clicked off the helmet light a
nd pushed them inside the nearest cleared room, then shut the door, using his full-body weight to brace against it. They must have caught up with the group of zombies dining on the patients.
They heard another door open and the occupants inside scream, then gurgling sounds and silence.
Jayden opened the door a crack and peered into the hall.
He watched as the group of five infected move on to the next room, working together.
But the most chilling thing he observed was their ability to work door handles.
He shut the door and, leaning against it, shut his eyes and whispered, “They’re opening doors and working in a group.” This wasn’t what he was expecting. In the briefing report, it said this new breed of infected would be less bloated, and therefore quicker, but he didn’t expect them to retain rudimentary reasoning.
“Sir,” Tomas answered in hushed tones without the slightest bit of sarcasm, “I’ve seen odd behavior from these infected as well. We’re dealing with something much different from your average zombie outbreak. This mutant strain that your employers have unleashed is much more dangerous. We’re used to zombies that die out quickly from lack of water or sunstroke. But if my theory holds, then this new virus is not only more virulent - it may allow for the retention of enough reasoning skills in its victims to allow them to survive and thrive. If this new strain of zombie fever isn’t contained, I fear it will be the global killer - the end of civilization.”
Jayden wasn’t one to question orders. But what Overstreet said somehow made sense.
Tomas could see the struggle evident on the man’s face. “You’ve seen it for yourself. We’re the only ones left who can do something about it. Vitura’s not going to end its implementation of their zombie program. You seem like a good man. Help us stop this madness!”
Jayden closed his eyes again, searching for answers.
Tomas and Abigail watched while Jayden struggled, his facial expressions flipping through a succession of emotions. Then his face when blank and he opened his eyes, aimed and shot Tomas in the right shoulder.
Abigail screamed as Tomas fell to the floor.
Jayden turned and stepped out into the hallway. There was a succession of muffled rifle shots as Jayden killed the group of zombies and began to clear the rest of the rooms.
Abigail ran to a medical cabinet, scooping all the medical supplies onto the floor and sifting through them for anything useful.
Tomas was in extreme pain. He was going into shock, but was aware enough to know that he wasn’t bleeding as badly as he thought he should from a gunshot from that high-powered rifle. What he didn’t know was that Jayden had switched loads to a lighter faster round before shooting him and had known exactly where to hit him to pacify aggression and reduce the likelihood of a bleed out. It was standard prisoner containment procedure when in the field.
Abigail cut through Tomas’ shirt with a pair of scissors and inspected the wound. She tore open a packet of chemical hemostat and poured it into the hole. “It went all the way through,” she said as Tomas moaned in agony. “I don’t think it hit bone and doesn’t look as if he hit any major arteries.” She turned him on his side and poured another hemostat pack into the slightly larger wound. Then she found some large bandages in the pile and pressed them against the holes.
As she was working, Tomas said, “Abigail. I’m going to pass out, I think. It’s important that you and your friend get to safety. Don’t resist him. He’s capable of anything. If he has a means of escaping Singapore, stick with him.”
Meanwhile, Jayden was making his way full circle through the hallway.
To make sure no other zombies entered the eighth floor, Jayden wedged crutches into the emergency door’s handles, jamming them into place. Then he wheeled beds into the open elevator doors to keep them from ascending or descending.
I’m not going to die here. He’d decided the most efficient way to survive was to go on the offense and remove all potential threats: the zombies, the half-eaten survivors turning zombie, even patients lying unconscious in their beds from various ailments who had the potential of getting bit and turning into zombies. He killed every person he found on the floor, marching through the corridors, kicking in the remaining doors, murdering fleeing hospital staff, family members and patients hiding in the closets, sweeping under beds and in the tiny attached bathrooms -everyone and everywhere.
When Jayden was almost finished, he entered an uncleared room and found a zombie nurse trapped in a bathroom. It had almost freed itself: the IV stand blocking the door had slipped, giving it enough room to poke its head and arms out of the door. When it saw Jayden, it moaned with a guttural hunger.
He took two pillow cases from the bed, doubled bagged them over its head, securing them with a length of surgical tape from a medicine chest on one wall. Then he pulled the IV stand away from the door and tied its hands behind its back with strips of bed sheet. If Bertrand wants a sample, he’ll get a sample, he thought as he dragged it into the hallway.
He had packed more than a thousand rounds with him for the mission and by the time he was finished with his rampage, he was using the empty rifle as a club, swinging it into the heads of those unlucky enough not to have received the bliss of a quick death, via a bullet in the brain.
Meanwhile, Abigail bandaged Tomas’ shoulder as best she could while they waited for Jayden to return.
Eventually, he kicked open their door. “Floor is clear! Let’s get a move on!”
Abigail helped Tomas to his feet and led them down the hallway to Jamie’s room, feeling the cold steel of the scissors she’d found hidden in her waistband. If he hurt Jamie, I’m going to jam these scissors into his groin.
“Here,” she pointed to the second to the last room in the hall. The door had been busted open courtesy of their psychotic mercenary captor.
Abigail peered inside and was both relieved and concerned to see the room was empty. At least Jayden hasn’t killed her, but where’s Jamie?
“Look,” Tomas croaked through pale-blue lips.
On the wall opposite the bed, there was a message written in what Abigail hoped was red lipstick,
Abi, save the world.
Her throat hitched.
Jamie was gone.
I may never see Jamie again.
While Abigail grieved, Jayden called the ship. “Alpha Charlie Echo, please respond, over. Repeat. Alpha Charlie Echo, requesting immediate evac, over,” Jayden said into his com behind her. “Alpha Charlie Echo, do you copy?”
“Control here. Evacuation denied, over. Mission canceled, over.” There was a pause then the operator said, “Sorry, Jayden. You’re on your own.”
Jayden couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “Control, please repeat, over. Control, clarify, over.”
But all he heard was static.
He stormed to the window and looked out into the night. Fires were eating huge swaths of shopping centers along Orchard Road and thousands glistening bodies undulated below in the dancing orange light in the street.
“What now?” Abigail asked. She had taken out the scissors and had them behind her back. She moved closer to Jayden within striking range of the back of his neck.
“Sergeant Jayden, do you copy?” It was his poker buddy, Specialist Crawford.