The Blood of the Infected (Book 2): Once Bitten, Twice Live

by Stanton, Antony J.

  One laboratory with the name ‘Dr Jason Boxall FRCS DNeuro’ had been locked. They broke the door down and it was clear that someone had survived here for a while at least. As in previous rooms there were indications of life and the small inner closet stank of waste. Some improvised weapons had been left in the room. A chair leg and a wooden broom had been sharpened. Both had clearly seen some kind of action. There were seven short black, vertical marks on the wall. They gave the impression of crude, early cave man drawings. There were no further clues as to where the room's inhabitants might have gone now and there was nothing else of value. Just realising that there had definitely been survivors gave the soldiers renewed enthusiasm and made their mission take on more of a feeling of worth. The indications of life outweighed those of death, in terms of importance.

  When they were half way down the corridor the fire doors at the far end creaked slowly open. They were faced with a man with a dark, red stain all across his chest. Lewis partly covered his torch. He signalled to his soldiers to take up a defensive position. The man was hunched over and limping. The soldiers froze. The man only looked up at them when he had covered half the distance towards them. His face looked nearly normal; there were few of the typical features they had come to associate with the illness. His skin was vaguely ashen but had not yet started to flake and whither. His teeth, when he bared them at the soldiers in a hushed snarl, were all still present although his gums had started to turn an unnaturally dark colour. His eyes almost seemed lucid and for a moment it looked as though he could recognise them as fellow survivors. Then the fleeting flash of clarity was replaced by the anonymous void of insanity and the hatred that came with it. He bellowed at them and tried to run although he dragged one leg behind him which made it almost pitiful to watch, like a stray dog limping. His hands were outstretched until several shots rang out. He pirouetted gracefully as he went down and his body twitched and shuddered. As they stood recovering their composure and staring at their latest victim their attention was now drawn to the floor of the corridor. Only now did they realise they had been walking along a murky streak of blood that spanned the entire length of the passageway.

  Having cleared all the rooms along that section they paused at the next fire doors, mentally preparing themselves for whatever lay beyond, like a ghoulish game show. Instead of the prize of a deluxe barbeque set and garden furniture with all its functions being demonstrated by a buxom blonde with a big smile in a glitzy dress, there would be a terrifying apparition behind each door wearing tattered clothes, with swollen gums and clumps of hair falling out, waiting to jump on them and reward them with the prize of death or infection. They slowly prepared themselves for the next instalment of thrilling fun. Lewis gingerly started to open the doors when they heard a faint sound from somewhere behind. Bannister shone his torch just as the far fire doors were slowly swinging closed. Nobody moved. They stood staring. There was no sign of movement in the corridor however and no sounds of any diseased so they went quickly ahead.

  “Keep a good eye out,” Lewis said sharply to Bannister. “Hopefully they didn't see us. We don’t want any of these crazies creeping up on us.”

  Bannister nodded but said nothing as he cast an anxious glance over his shoulder.

  They now found themselves in another large, open area. The odour here was not like any of the previous sections they had passed through. It lacked the rank edge of deathly decay, but nevertheless it was equally unpleasant. It reminded Lewis of disease and rotting waste products. They all stopped while he probed the dark with his torch, breathing shallowly to try to limit the amount of fetid air entering his lungs.

  “Smells like a pet shop, sort of,” Hutchison muttered.

  “Yeah but a really dirty one that hasn’t had the animals cleaned for ages,” Bannister said. “It’s minging in here.”

  The walls were painted white and leading away into the gloom were four parallel rows of work surfaces. One row was against each wall and two down the centre of the room. Lining the tops of each were small animal cages although many had been knocked to the floor, spewing their contents forth like gutted carcasses. On the nearby wall they could just make out large monitor screens and some white boards. On both of the walls to the left and right there were another couple of doors and coming from somewhere to their left there was a soft, intermittent, scrabbling, scratching sound.

  Lewis silently checked whether they had all heard the noise. He signalled them to keep quiet and follow him as he crept softly into the room. He kept a row of work surfaces between himself and the door from where the sound could be detected. He could still not see it clearly. Until recently the cages had all been used to house animals. All of the cages were now open. Some looked misshapen and seemed to have been ripped apart by force. They all had small labels stuck to the front of the cage. The first read ‘R101’ and they increased in order numerically.

  Stepping carefully around the scattered cages, Lewis worked his torch along the left hand wall, seeking out whatever was making the noises. Crouching on the floor by one of the doors was someone wearing a white coat. As the torch beam played over her the woman turned and looked at the light. She had what seemed to be a normal, quizzical expression as though the soldiers were disturbing her from performing an important action. It was a petite lady with fair hair tied back in a bun, although many strands had now become loose and bedraggled, which only enhanced the impression of unhinged insanity. She somehow still managed to wear her half-moon spectacles despite the fact that the glass had been smashed. They sat crookedly on the end of her nose at an angle. She turned back from the torch and scraped at the door again like an animal trying to gain access. Her finger nails were bloody and broken, and there were deep scratch marks gouged into the wood. A strange mewing sound like a cat came from her and then she suddenly became more animated and violently pounded at the door with her knuckles making Lewis wince.

  The soldiers were immobilized, watching her in horror. Lewis still found it hard to kill one of them when they were not actually charging with murderous intent. Abruptly, as though she had just remembered that there were people staring at her from the other end of the torch beam, she jumped to her feet and turned in defiance to face them. There was a hiss and a snarl on her lips. Lewis caught a glimpse of a name stitched into her coat just above the pocket, but he was not able to read it. He was not sure exactly why it mattered to him what her name had been. Perhaps it was a link to her past; to the person she had been up until a few days or weeks previously, when she had lost her world and her mind. Perhaps it was important to know whom he was liberating from the white noise of madness; whom he was laying at peace and sparing from this living hell. Now though that name no longer held any relevance for her.

  In her sudden movement the glasses had finally given up their hold on her head. They fell to the floor and were crunched under foot as she stepped slowly forwards. She looked uncertain and in the gloom she could easily have been mistaken for a survivor. Lewis wondered, if they had arrived at the laboratories a day or two earlier might they have been in time to save her? Then the illusion of normality vanished as she pulled back her lips in a ferocious grimace that was most definitely not the product of a normal human being.

  There was another noise from further into the laboratory but no sign of any movement. The sound distracted the lady for a moment but her attention quickly returned to the new arrivals. She took a pace towards them. They backed up slowly, maintaining their defensive formation. Again the same sound caught her attention. Lewis anxiously played his torch around the lab. He feared attack from two sides simultaneously but there was nobody else there, as far as he could see. The woman looked back at the door one last time, then turned and ran at the soldiers without warning. She did not get more than one or two steps before there was a bang and she rag-dolled to the floor.

  Bannister grasped the pistol in front of himself with two hands. The others turned to stare and he stood motionless for a second longer before lowering
the weapon. He shrugged defensively. “Close quarters I prefer the Browning. It’s faster to aim, easier close up and from point blank you can one hundred percent drop the fucker. Besides, it makes less noise.”

  Lewis grunted and nodded; a gesture that was intended to convey thanks and grudging respect. “Yeah. Unfortunately though still enough noise to bring more this way. Keep your eyes on our six.”

  At that moment from somewhere in the room there was a soft scratching. It was not too dissimilar to the sound the woman had been making as she dragged her fingernails across the door. They all swung round with weapons raised and ready. They were all on tenterhooks. Again there was no sign of any movement.

  “I don’t like this,” Hutchison whispered. “There’s something just not quite right here.”

  “There’s lots that’s not at all right with any of this,” Bannister replied darkly.

  “Let's check that room out,” Lewis snapped. “I wonder what was so special that got that woman interested.”

  Quickly and quietly they made their way towards it when there was a bang from somewhere nearby and the scratching sound repeated. Lewis indicated the door to Bannister who stepped back and launched himself at it. He slammed his foot into the woodwork just below the handle and although it gave an almighty crash it held firm. Lewis winced with the racket but directed him to do it again. He stood staring out into the room for any signs of movement. On the third strike the wood around the lock gave way and the door smashed open.

  Although they had habituated to the current odours they were now greeted with an immediate waft of musty air that had a new taint to it. Lewis shone his torch into the room and had a gun ready just in case. Nothing burst forth from inside. After a moment he exchanged a nervous glance with Hutchison and stepped closer.

  “Careful,” Hutchison mouthed at him.

  Inside Lewis’s torch flittered around the room, alighting on various objects like a skittish butterfly. There was what seemed to be a smaller laboratory with a sink and work surface running down one wall. Some of the same implements and instruments that they had seen previously lay scattered around and there were lots more test tubes and bottles of chemicals with scribbled notes on labels. Pots were laid out carefully on the floor next to a pile of broken furniture in one corner. There were various personal effects including a few items of a man’s clothing, two radios, a black, leather brief case and a laptop. Singleton pointed at the computer and Lewis nodded. He stepped gingerly inside the room and motioned to them all to come in and close the door.

  “Okay, same drill," he whispered. "Keep it quiet. Work as fast as possible and see if there’s anything of use in here. Bannister, another job for you.”

  He indicated a door that looked as though it led to a cupboard. Bannister nodded and stepped forwards while Lewis covered him with his gun. Bannister grasped the door handle and yanked it open.

  Singleton gasped. The door revealed an inner store room. Lying on the floor, dazzled by the beam of light and terrified by the intrusion was a feeble looking figure.

  “Hell’s teeth!” Bannister squawked in surprise. “There’s someone there.”

  “Don’t shoot,” Lewis barked.

  A man lay on his back in the far corner of the store room, staring at them with sunken, scared eyes. There was a collective, unconscious holding of breath as they recovered from the shock. Then slowly the man raised his head an inch or two off the floor and a faint rasping came from his lips.

  “He’s alive, he’s alive,” Singleton blurted out as she rushed forwards.

  “Careful.” Lewis was not sure what he was warning her to be careful of, but they were all so used to proceeding with stealth and caution that the sudden movement from the doctor unnerved him.

  She knelt beside the man and shone her own torch at him, blinding him as she checked his vital signs. The four soldiers took a little longer to react and for once Lewis found that he did not really know what to do. While Singleton carefully examined the man he instructed his troops to assess their state of ammunition and again ensure that their magazines were full. He told Samuels to watch outside whilst Banister and Hutchison looked through the cupboards and draws for anything of use. Samuels grunted and moved wearily to the door. His legs felt weak and the thumping in his head came in waves that made it hard to concentrate on anything.

  Lewis returned to Singleton’s side. “Well? How is he?” A stitched name badge above the pocket on his lab coat indicated that he was called Bennett.

  “He’s delirious, in and out of consciousness,” Singleton was still kneeling by the man’s side. “I can’t be certain that he hasn’t been contaminated but he was definitely lucid and acting like a rational human being a moment ago, just before he passed out.”

  “You mean you think he’s okay?”

  “I mean that until I check him over I can’t be certain. As of now he is still compos mentis, which would imply that at best he has not been bitten, at worst he has only been bitten very recently. Either way he's no threat to us; just yet.”

  “So what’s wrong with him?” Lewis asked, getting frustrated. “Why’s he unconscious?”

  “Again I don’t know for sure, but just from the look of him I’d say he’s suffering from severe dehydration, probably shock and malnutrition. I've given him a little water but I don’t want to overload his system. Too much liquid too fast would be more than his poor body can take. He needs a proper electrolyte solution delivered intravenously.”

  “We’ve got to get him to the Landies then. You think it’s okay to move him?”

  “I’d say we don’t have any choice. If he stays here much longer he'll most certainly die.”

  Bannister had overheard what they were saying and now interrupted. “You mean we’re going to take someone who may very well be sick back with us to the base? That not only puts all of us who are in the same Landy as him in peril but also compromises everyone at Headley Court? No, I don’t think so, I don’t think so at all.”

  Lewis was about to silence Bannister again but Singleton got there first. “Bannister, the man is literally at death’s door. He could be dead in a matter of hours if we don’t do anything. He’s definitely not suffering from the effects of this infection yet and it’s very likely that he won’t be at all. And even if he is ill and loses his mental faculties on the drive back to base, wakes up angry and tries to attack someone, he’s in such bad shape that a child could fight him off, let alone a big strong soldier like yourself. Besides, we came here for information that may help us. We’ve all been risking our lives all day and we’ve just found a survivor hiding in one of the animal laboratories. Wouldn’t you say there's a very good possibility that he may actually know something about the drug and all the research that went into it?”

  Bannister was quiet, thinking about a response but it was a response that he never had a chance to make. Samuels felt a draught on his legs and turned to see the door that he was supposedly guarding, open agonizingly slowly, as though life had temporarily become sluggish. A movement from just outside was highlighted by the torch and he found himself staring straight into the unblinking eyes of insanity, only a couple of feet away. Two blazing, blackened portals of hatred and anger glared at him from the dark as a man lunged forwards. A strangled moan escaped Samuels’s mouth as his finger increased its pressure on the rifle’s trigger. It kicked upwards wastefully as he sprayed ammunition through the doorway and into the man’s body. The man was jerked back from the light into darkness. Although they were all momentarily deafened by the gun shots, they could still hear the bang and clatter as the body smashed into furniture.

  This time Lewis reacted first. “Samuels and Bannister, check outside. See if there are any more. Hutchison, you and Singleton pick him up. The party’s over. It’s time to get out of here. Bannister?”

  “Yessir, there’s no other movement out there at the moment.”

  Their disagreement had been forgotten. It was replaced by a sense of urgency to escape from
Hades.

  Lewis nodded and raised his radio to his lips. “Wood, it’s Lewis. We’ve found a survivor, we’re going straight back to the Land Rovers. It’s time to leave.”

  There was a brisk reply from Wood and then Lewis spoke quickly to his troops. “Right, let’s make like we’ve got a purpose.”

  Bannister interrupted. “There’s movement. Think a couple more just came in.”

  “What do you mean, you ‘think’?” Lewis snapped.

  “The door’s moving but I can’t see anyone in the dark.” Then his torch caught one of the infected in its beam. It was a man coming at them from the side. Fast. Bannister whirled around. He fired his pistol twice at the man’s head. He had no time to aim properly and stopped him only about five meagre paces away.

  “Too damn close,” he muttered. He shone the torch quickly around the rest of the room. He could not see anyone else just yet. “I think it may be clear now.”

  Lewis was by his side. “Okay, I’ll go first, Hutchison and Singleton next. You two bring up the rear. If anything moves let it have merry hell. Let’s get outta this hell-hole.”

  “Yes sir, that’s freakin’ music to my ears.” It was the first time Bannister had seemed enthusiastic all day. He now switched weapons. In a swift movement he stowed the Browning and brandished his rifle with a flourish, checking the magazine and safety with one deft flick of his wrist. In the dark Lewis thought he looked totally professional and as calm as any of them. Despite his surly attitude he was experienced and certainly someone to have with you in a desperate situation, and this was definitely the most desperate of situations.

  Lewis opened the door fully and stepped out into the darkness. He felt something touch his foot and leapt back. “Urgh!”