The department specialized in internal terrorism but along with that, the Restoration lab was a military funded facility. The facility performed research on medical advances for the public, but the military had other projects in development. One of these projects was devised to grow back the limbs of dismembered soldiers. An, experiment that, if yielded results, would be sought after worldwide.
“Tap into the monitor feed of the main lobby. Let’s see who we are dealing with,” he commanded in a stern voice. He did not yell as the volume of his voice did not matter; when Colonel Alastor instructed a command, it was done. The analyst effortlessly clicked what seemed like random buttons and brought up a feed from the lab.
The feed shown was fifteen minutes prior to the call. A woman with short red hair was bitten by a cat. She grabbed it by the scruff of the neck, walked to the door, opened it and tossed the animal outside. She grabbed a cloth off of the main desk and wrapped her hand. A few minutes later a man approached her and they talked for a short time and both departed the desk. The woman stopped halfway towards her destination.
“Sir look, the woman” the analyst whispered as she pointed to the screen. The Colonel leaned closer and focused with his eyes slightly squinted. The two were within a foot of the monitor, watching closely.
The woman on the screen jerked backward, as if punched. Her appendages flailed violently for a second and then she stilled. A few men approached her and she attacked them swiftly. She bit the first man on the neck, spraying blood everywhere, the second in the hand as he tried to save his colleague. More researchers crowded the area to restrain the woman. Her first victim laid motionless on the ground for a minute or so, most certainly dead, when he grasped at the person trying to help him. The rest of the feed played out the rest of the grisly ordeal. Many researchers had tried to escape, only to be tripped or grabbed by the maddened assailants. Not one escaped.
“Si-sir, what was that? Why did those people start killing each other?” the analyst asked, shaking. She had just witnessed what had to be the most gruesome mass murder in known history. Her hands trembled as she looked to the Colonel.
“I-I just don’t know,” Colonel Alastor was trying to process it all, but found it difficult. War was simple, one man killing another; fighting for their countries. He had never seen people stricken with madness tearing innocents apart. The feeding upon the dead is what shook him; those that had not reanimated were devoured. He wiped the sweat of his brow, he was feeling ill. He stood erect, took a deep breath and composed himself.
“The feline, that appears to be what caused it. The woman was acting normal before the attack and changed fairly quickly afterward. She threw it outside, meaning the whole town is compromised.” she replied, showing him the feed before the cat attack.
“Son of a bitch…..” he trailed off. He needed to contain the situation. The cat was the origin it appeared and now it was running free. The whole town could be infected with this illness, quarantine was the only solution.“We need to set up roadblocks and quarantine the area. Alert all military bases surrounding the town to set it up and sweep the outskirts of the town,” he commanded.
“Yes sir! Blockades should be up within the next few hours,” responded the analyst as she typed away. She pulled up a map of the town. “Sir three will be needed for these roads,” she added indicating the map with her finger. “This lake adds a boundary thankfully,” she added, tracing the map with her finger. With only three main roads out of the town, blockades would contain the situation rather easily.
“Send troops and the Hazardous Waste Team in just in case. If the water is polluted, the infection will spread quickly to surrounding populations.. Alert the local authorities and ban lake activities,” Colonel Alastor announced decisively to the other analysts.
“Shall we inform the local police department? To assist in establishing the roadblocks?” she inquired to the colonel.
“No. They received this transmission, meaning they will have their hands full with this. We cannot have anyone leave the town, including them,” he responded calmly. Letting anyone else know what was occurring would only exacerbate the situation. He originally planned on cleansing the building with fire, but that would cause panic. That would potentially cause citizens to flee, a risk he was not going to take.
Monday 5:30 pm
“Alright soldiers you have been recommended for this job due to your excellence in this field,” Colonel Alastor announced to the four troops. “I want to make this clear to all of you; no one gets in or out. We cannot allow this infection to spread, it will ravage the country and kill us all, do you understand?” he added in a grim tone. The Colonel knew this was a temporary fix, he would need authorization for the next step. Advanced personnel to scan and test survivors or napalm.
“Yes sir!” replied the troops except one of the snipers, Raymond Kingston. An African American man, with a typical military buzz cut and an intimidating six foot stature. As a sniper he was unimpressive in comparison to the other’s in his regimen and he knew if. He ranked thirteenth in his regiment, it contained twenty. Supply and demand. With complications in the East, the top ranked snipers were sent over. His hesitation to respond to the Colonel was because he would have to shoot civilians.
“Excuse me soldier, did I not make myself clear?” Colonel Alastor asked, temper rising. His eyes were piercing. A chain of command must be followed, that is what Alastor believed. Insubordination would not be tolerated. He stood directly in front of Raymond, staring; the other soldiers, stonelike, with side glances to their comrade.
“You did sir. I just do not feel comfortable shooting the people we were trained to protect,” Raymond replied in his strong Boston accent. Raymond spent the majority of his thirty years of life living in Dorchester with his mother. She was a single mother, working long nights as a bartender to care for her family. When Raymond was twenty years old, his mother was killed in a grocery store robbery. Her death led Raymond to devote his life to protecting the innocent. He joined the police force and subsequently joined the military. He trained in special operations, hoping he would be assigned a high profile case in eliminating a dictator or warlord in the MIddle East. This was his first field assignment and he now faced a dire predicament.Protection of the citizens was his job. Being ordered to do this made him reconsider the position he held in the service.
“Son listen, everyone of those people in that town are no longer people, they are now vicious creatures that only want to kill. You must show no compassion or hesitation because if they got their hands on you they will not show either. Do you think you can do this?” Colonel Alastor explained gently.
“Yes sir I think I can” Raymond replied, but this was still very troubling to him. He could not say no to the Colonel or he would be arrested for abandonment. He straightened his stance and gripped his gun. It was his duty.
“People may approach this border claiming they are uninfected. You cannot let them leave. The infection must not spread. I need to get authorization to find out what we are to do next. Now listen, this will be tough to hear, but I need you to understand. If they refuse to leave, you need to open fire. We need to keep the infected centralized to the residential district of the town. It will be easier to neutralize them if we keep them confined” Colonel said reluctantly. He had turned away from the soldiers as he said this. He himself couldn’t believe he was saying this but he knew it was the right thing to do.
“But if they are uninfected then why would we shoot them? The infection is only transmittable through exchange of bodily fluids by bites and other means.” Raymond responded to the Colonel. He was adamant about saving as many lives as he could.
“Because they could be lying, they may have been bitten or infected and not even know it.” replied the Colonel. “I have to be going now, remember the life of this country is reliant on your ability to keep this contained.” The Colonel added and walked towards the chopper. He stopped for a moment. “Try and direct them to stay at the
high school a few miles down the road, it is a local FEMA center. They can try to survive there until we get authorization,” he added as he entered the helicopter. He had other barricades to visit, to repeat the same instructions. James Alastor pulled out his flask and took a sip; he needed something to numb him for the next two stops. A fiery Hellstorm was about rain down, engulfing everyone and everything.
The two snipers broke off from the two other troops, approaching the barricade. They were to sit atop, watching for anything in the distance. The other soldiers were riot control, equipped with automatic machine guns. Crowd control, alive or dead, would be fairly easy for the men so long as the snipers thinned any group out from the distance.
“Fantastic, now a little target practice. Come on let’s got to our nests, I bet you I can kill way more than you” said Cody Griffith, the other sniper. He was competitive man, eager to show off his skill, but he was cold. He would shoot first and ask questions later.
“Fuck you, how can you like killing our own people?” Raymond asked furiously. This kind of talk was horrific. Raymond was beginning to wonder if the creatures inside the confine of the barricade were less of monsters then they were.
“You heard the Colonel, they are no longer people, so why not have fun killing them?” Cody replied. He was unmoved by the whole situation, it was sickening.
“Whatever,” Raymond stated as they both parted ways to the top of the barricade. This was by far the most difficult thing for Raymond; he was the executioner of the innocent. No matter how much people tried to convince him, he was in his own mindset. He climbed the ladder up to his nest which was supplied with bundles of food and enough bullets to kill an army. He immediately took out a picture of his wife and son and taped it to the support bar, a sniper tradition. He grabbed the cross from his neck and kissed it. God forgive me.
Chapter 7: Meet the Survivors
Cindy was trembling, her heart palpitating, she could see only darkness. She traversed blindly and tripped over a box and fell hard to the floor. Her knee became inflamed upon impact, but would be okay. She was just glad to be in a safe place and away from the madness. She started feeling around and brushed the man’s leg.
“If you hold on a sec I can turn on the light,” said a voice without a face. When he turned on the light she saw Gabe Stenson, John Stenson’s son. “Are you ok?” Gabe asked her. He was thin in stature, with long golden hair, very unlike his father. Gabe was only seventeen but he knew his way around a gun. He hunted with his dad on weekends during hunting season.
“Yeah, I am fine. Thanks for saving my butt,” she replied breathing heavily. Gabe walked to her, making sure to avoid the very same box she tripped over and helped her to her feet. Cindy trembled and could barely stand. She stood on numb legs.
“Here, come this way to see the others,” Gabe told Cindy while leading her out to the store. They stepped through the remainder of the storage room, it was still dark despite the small light Gabe turned on; the silhouettes of shelves and boxes were barely visible. She saw the bright lights ahead.
She had only been in Stenson’s once before, and when she was, it was full of life and laughter. Currently it was silent and morbid, she saw the horrified faces of shoppers who were petrified with shock. She knew everyone who was sitting around the camping display. There was Sharon Finley, who recently lost her son. Melody May was also there, she had just came home from college a month ago. She was a tall girl, at least two inches taller than Cindy, and her brown hair was tied up in a spunky looking pony tail. Cindy knew Melody from playing basketball at the YMCA during the summer. Though they had not found time yet so far this year. Melody was going to school on a basketball scholarship, she was a unique talent. Marie Stenson was seated next to Melody. Marie was John’s wife, she looked very pale. She recently saw a man eating her close friend.
Gabe approached the small group and sat next to Melody. At that moment there was a clanking noise. The group turned around, fearing a cannibal may have gotten inside. It was only John Stenson walking down a large staircase that descended from the attic of the store, a rifle in his hand. A hatch led to the roof from his office, he descended into his store after realizing there was no one left to save. His face was stern and serious, like a man back from war.
“Gabe, is the backdoor latched and locked?” he asked very quietly. He turned his attention from the storage room to his son. John wanted to make sure they were all safe in his store. He was in charge of protecting these people, a job he took seriously.
“Yeah dad, it’s locked,” Gabe replied in the same low voice. He looked to his dad full of fear. A fear he did not succumb to, allowing him to lead people into the store. He had to shoot people today, changing him. Despite what his father said, these monsters were still people.
They looked to John, expecting him to find a way to fix all of the madness. Sharon Finley was silently sitting. She was walking with her boy when they were attacked by the monsters. Drew dropped his toy and had pulled away from his mother to retrieve it. They were seperated mere seconds when it happened. Sharon tried to fight the creatures off but they killed Drew before she could save him. She remembered the horrified scream of her child, then a guttural noise with chewing and gnawing. It made her sick to her stomach, she remembered all the blood. “Mommy help!” he had screamed as he was torn apart.
“Cindy, you made it,” John said sounding relieved. He walked to her and hugged her. Nothing had felt better to Cindy than a huge hug from a friend. She somewhat hoped that when the hug was over that the madness around them would be over.
“Thanks to you John, I would have been a goner if you weren’t there,” Cindy replied. She now knew how quickly her life could be ended in this apocalypse. A single miscalculation could result in death. Even walking down the street could be fatal. She knew the situation they were in. You need to be better. No more mistakes.
Marie walked over to her husband and kissed him intensely. “You are a hero John. To all of us,” She said loving her husband more than ever. Being married for 20 years can boring and repetitive; seeing her husband save these people rejuvenated her love and admiration for him.
They sat in silence for several moments. The only sounds they could hear was the moaning and the dragging of feet outside. It made the situation more uncomfortable and glum. Cindy was now sitting in a folding chair next to Marie, processing everything. The silence was finally broken by the reserved Melody May.
“What happened? Why are those people doing this?” she asked on the verge of tears. She was a sensitive girl; she could be overwhelmed by anything. She went into panic attacks just from seeing a spider in the bathroom. The apocalypse made her a basket case.
“I really don’t know” John replied. He was confounded by the whole thing himself. The day when people started eating each other was so absurd. Something you expected to see at a movie, not in a crowded parking lot. “Probably a terrorist attack. They probably released some gas to make us go crazy,” he added.
“I think I might know, it sounds absurd but it fits perfectly.” Cindy said timidly. Everyone’s eyes were on her. She regretted saying anything. “They are zombies, the undead. You know, from the movies and stuff?” she added feeling like a moron. She sounded like one of the nutcases that believed in aliens. Way to lose all credibility and respect with one statement!
“Oh come on, that is idiotic, how is that possible?” Gabe asked skeptically. He had always admired and respected Cindy, but now he thought she was in shock. He wanted this to be rationalized in some way. He wouldn’t admit it, but Cindy’s idea seemed the best fit.
“Well, they seem to exhibit the signs of being zombies, they walk slow, moan and try to eat people. Also, I’m willing to bet that if we were to be bitten by these things that we would become like them.” Cindy defended her point vehemently. She remembered the men who killed Wallace, all were bleeding from bite wounds.
“That does make sense,” Melody said quietly. She had watched plenty of zombi
e films to know that this theory matched the dynamic very well. She, like Gabe, needed an explanation to make sense of everything.
“This is nonsense, so all those people are dead? How did everyone in this plaza die? Well?” Gabe asked knowing that Cindy was right and trying to find any flaws in her suggestion. Gabe was always the skeptic in school. He would get into debates over every little subject, especially evolution vs. religion.
“Well, they must have been infected by a bite or something and then they died and came back infected.” Cindy replied knowing that she had won the argument. This was basic zombie knowledge; the infected saliva would get into the bloodstream and kill the individual. She didn’t know all the science about it but she knew enough. “My friend died, he was eaten by them. The men who attacked him were all bleeding, they were bitten. Before he intervened, those same men tried to stop a maddened man from attacking a kid,” she added softly.
“So what do we do then?” asked Sharon. She was traumatized and would never be the same. She witnessed her only child brutally murdered and that is something that isn’t forgotten. She had managed to escape only because she could not stand to see her son be mutilated any further. She ran away from the scene hoping it would disappear if she ran fast enough. Marie Stenson intercepted her, and led her to the store under gunfire provided by her husband.
“We wait it out here, I did some grocery shopping before this happened, we got enough food to last a couple of days,” Marie replied. The groceries she bought were going to be for a late night barbeque with friends. Obviously that was now out of the question.
“Then what? After a few days we just starve?” Gabe asked. He wasn’t trying to be pessimistic, he was being real. What would they do once they were out of food? Gabe had the butt off his gun on the floor and he was pivoting it to keep himself busy.
Dead End: Escape Page 6