Way of the Undead

by Boggess, Michael

  “You could be right. My dad always takes trips down to the casinos and they could most definitely have got married there, but he also had more than one off and on relationship. Angela wasn’t his only girl,” Mark admitted as a cold breeze continued to sweep through the lot.

  “Why would you two even go to the police about dad being a missing person? He’s only been gone a few days,” Tyler stated.

  Mark walked over next to Tyler. “On the radio earlier, Wild Bill was talking about the Knoxville quarantine and how in Knoxville the Sheriff and the head of the Police Department were considered to be missing persons and haven’t been seen in two or three days. He said that the government or some unknown faction might be behind their disappearance, and could be trying to silence them about the viral outbreak because they’re such high-ranking public figures.”

  “Well, why would anybody harm dad? He doesn’t even live in Knoxville,” Tyler asked trying to make sense of it all.

  Mark began to explain his reasoning behind the mystery. “One of the last times I talked to dad he was worried that the pollution in Lake Ocoee was going to find its way over to us and start killing all the wildlife, and all the plants in his park. He told me he was going to call around and find out what was going on. I think that if given one more night and we still haven’t heard from him we need to suspect that possible foul play could be involved due to Knoxville being so close.”

  Chapter 8 way of the undead

  After his discovery, after finding the Professor deep in the woods surrounding Lake Ocoee, Professor McClellan was now the National Guards top priority. Captain John Collins gave the order to have him come to his office immediately for questioning on any and everything in regards to the quarantined-off camp.

  “Captain Collins! A Professor McClellan is here to see you,” a soldier spoke, standing firm in the doorway at the local Army base.

  “Send him in,” the Captain said, sipping on a hot cup of freshly brewed coffee.

  Given the Professor’s knowledge of the past day’s events as well as his prior experience with the virus, since he was found wandering those woods surrounding Lake Ocoee, he was treated as royalty. Fort Stewart, a very well-known military compound, was in need of such a credible scientist. After being treated for all of his minor wounds, and checked for contamination a nice breakfast was offered.

  The Professor was very fatigued, evident in his story of how the quarantined camp was destroyed by zombies. After being recognized as the sole survivor, immediate upper level clearance was appointed, making him the head Chief Medical Officer in charge of the outbreak. Due to his work back at camp, it was his duty to get the medical team up to speed on how to combat the virus. Professor McClellan arrived at Captain Collins door and gave a brief knock as he entered in.

  “Come in! Have yourself a cup of coffee. I just made it myself,” the Captain said.

  “Thanks! I’d love some.”

  “We’ve seen the camp and the story you tell, although a wild one, this seems to be true. When my men arrived the camp was in utter ruins—a smoldering mess. Nothing was left and most of the bodies were badly burnt and unidentifiable. Upon arriving my men got attacked—by what appeared to be some of our own soldiers. We had to unload on them… they were viscously trying to assault us. My men could tell something wasn’t right because of their wounds. Once those undead, as I like to call them were found to be sporting some pretty serious wounds, wounds that would have killed a normal man. What I need to know is any and everything you know. Your one of the country’s leading Epidemiologists. Is there a cure for this virus?”

  The Professor took a sip of his coffee, trying to gather his thoughts as well as trying to gain some composure. “Although the virus is unlike anything I’ve ever seen, I do think that there might be a cure, if not a vaccination might likely work. But, we would need human test subjects if we were to try anything. A cure might be harder to come up with due to not all viruses being reversible. Before all of my notes were destroyed, I had the viruses’ structure mapped out and believe me… it was almost alien to anything known here on earth. I’ve been working with the virus longer than anyone else and I’ve seen the affects,” the Professor said, as he set his coffee cup on the desk.

  “Go on!”

  “This virus takes twenty-four hours to re-wire a human host. In a healthy host it causes flu-like symptoms with a high-fever; then in twenty-four hours it will have run its course, killing any and everyone infected. After which, the dead begin to rise and will start attacking anyone not infected. It’s a code written into the virus that causes that behavior. I feel the virus was either brought to Lake Ocoee by the meteorite particles found polluting the water ways, or it mutated a known virus into this monster that’s unlike any virus here on earth,” the Professor warned. “What I’ve noticed is that the so called undead will attack the living and if the wound is bad enough and the infected dies as a result, they also immediately change into the undead, the twenty-four hour rule is then thrown out the window.”

  “Tell me more,” the Captain demanded.

  “Well, anyone infected has around twenty-four hours to live. But… caution needs to be stressed due to the virus possibly being able to run its course faster in weaker patients, such as the old or already on the verge of dying. We’ll need to warn everyone in the quarantined off zones. The nearly fifty or so reported cases at Knoxville Memorial need to be checked into and their staff members will also need to be warned immediately. This is just a hunch, but after one becomes a zombie, just like in the movies, they can only be killed by destroying the brain. Also, once a zombie outbreak occurs it’s bound to spread at a far greater rate due to more frequent zombie attacks. Is there anything else you need of me?” the Professor asked.

  The Captain looked sternly at the Professor before giving the medical team their orders. “You’re to start immediately testing and by any means necessary to find a cure for this virus. As far as the quarantine goes, we’ll see what we can do. But, or governments stand on how to deal with plague is to not put any of our own soldiers in harm’s way by placing them inside of a contaminated area. We’ll send warning to the town’s officials; however, after word is sent—anyone trying to leave the quarantine will be shot dead on sight. We cannot allow this thing to spread all over the United States of America,” he warned. “After enough time, and after we find out if there could be a cure, perhaps even a vaccine for our troops, we’ll send our men in to exterminate and rescue any survivors. We just need to hope that they’re patient enough to wait it out. I have it set up for you to meet with your team over at the lab. If there is anything you and your men need to get the job done—just let us know.”

  Professor McClellan stood up, having finished his coffee. The Professor tossed the cup into the waste basket next to the Captain’s desk, and thought it over briefly before answering. “Well, there are a few things I’m going to need... I lost all of my reports and lab work when the camp burnt down. I was in the middle of a break through with the virus and was indeed the first ever to discover it. I was wanting for any and all legal and medical publication regarding the virus to name the virus as the Mclelre-virus after my discovery out at Lake Ocoee. We’ll need some incubators for inoculation experiments and honestly some test subjects—hopefully ones whom volunteer and a few actual undead wouldn’t hurt either. My team will need to get with a Pharmacology expert and perhaps an Oncology expert as well.”

  The Captain shook his head in acknowledgement of the Professor’s demands. “You’re doing your country a great service… you’ll be a hero and fully repaid for your time and hard work. You have been giving a high-level of security and all the medical clearance necessary. I’m just letting you know that you’re going to be monitored closely and everything that goes on with the testing here are to remain top-secret,” he warned. “If any of the things you learn, hear, or even see gets leaked out on purpose or on accident, you could be tried as a traitor and possibly executed. Our government is in
fear that other countries could decide to nuke us in an attempt to stop this viral outbreak—trying to incinerate it. That’s why all the facts about what’s been going on in Knoxville hasn’t been making the world news. That’s why we need you to find us a cure or even a vaccine as soon as possible.”

  The Captain stood up and extended his arm out to the Professor; the two then exchanged a firm handshake.

  During the walk over, the sheer size of the facility was amazing, given the abundance of state of the art equipment that lined the walls. To the Professor, the Army base was very well prepared for any biological disturbance, and the testing of any such diseases.

  After a moment of pleasantries and having met with the various doctors and scientists waiting to be briefed on what was to be expected—the Professor prepared himself. Everyone casually began to have a seat as the Professor turned off the glaring overhead projector. “I don’t have anything to show you, due to all of my notes getting destroyed when I was attacked by zombies. That’s right zombies… the walking undead! Or whatever you want to call them. The fear is real. They are real. We’re fixing to have some brought to us for testing. That’s right, real life zombies,” the Professor explained. “One of Captain Collins highest priorities for us is to find a cure. We want be curing a zombie, for they are already dead. We are to find a cure for someone to inject into themselves once they’ve been bitten and before they fully change. Also, we are to find to a vaccine that we can administer to our troops before they go into the quarantined off areas, before they are even exposed to the virus. This is to provide them immunity to bites or any contact that they might have with the virus. Any questions so far?”

  A young Doctor with short curly brown hair and thickened glasses named Wesley Scott raised his hand.

  “For the vaccinations… don’t we need uninfected volunteers? Or are we just going to assume they work?”

  Professor McClellan acknowledged the question before answering. “Yes we do... that I have already went over with to Captain Collins. If he wants the results and as quickly as possible, than we don’t have time to do testing on animals. I have seen no evidence so far that the virus changes deceased animals into zombies, it only kills them. For the best results we need human test subjects. Most preferably volunteers.”

  The Professor looked around briefly. “If we don’t find a cure soon, the whole area of Knoxville will be destroyed by what I feel is going to be a zombie plague. The Captain told me that he cannot send any of his men into the quarantined zone unless their immune to the infection and once the infection starts to spread, I was told anyone infected or not infected caught trying to flee the area will be shot dead. I have family and friends in Knoxville, that’s what makes this more than just a job. It’s personal to me and I know it is for most of you. I’ve seen the virus through the use of an electron microscope and mapped it out. It is unlike any other virus in existence. It seems alien.”

  The Professor continued. “The virus was either brought to our planet by meteorites or mutated before multiplying a known genus of virus. Before my laptop and all of my notes were destroyed, I had found that the Mclelre-virus is unique,” the Professor explained. “It was found in the toxic waters of Lake Ocoee feeding on the dead and decaying animal life. It grew and proliferated and then what I fear had happened, spread via the water ways before they were completely drained. The sick have been going to the hospital in large numbers. New cases reported every few hours. My research led me to discover that the sick had twenty-four hours to live. What happened after that shocked even me, for I hadn’t seen such a thing in all my years of medicine. The dead would come back to life as bloodthirsty cannibals.”

  As the Professor talked, a group of guardsmen entered the briefing room. “We’re sorry to interrupt. But, those test subjects you were needing are waiting for you down at the lab.”

  The Professor went on to conclude his briefing. “That was quick… well long story short, the makeup of the virus showed extra arms with prickly attachments and what seemed to be a central cortex area. That’s right… the area where the viruses’ written code resides is larger than all known viruses. Once I found that the virus was feeding off the remains of the dead wildlife, reproducing, I knew something wasn’t right. That same virus, we now know kills a healthy host by fever and flu-like symptoms,” he explained.

  “Furthermore, the Virus in twenty-four hours will integrate itself into its host’s DNA, taking control of the brain and spinal column. We now know it preserves the motor functions and still has that same need to feed on flesh, exhibited in how it was feeding off the dead and decaying wildlife in Lake Ocoee. The virus has almost a mind of its own. Amazingly, a somewhat thought process, unlike any other virus.”

  The group adjourned from the meeting room, from where they were taken over to the compounds medical facility through high security, restricted zones. The group was now ready to start working, having somewhat got to know one another. For some of the scientists this was what they’ve worked their whole lives toward and they were determined to save as many people as possible. The lab was brightly illuminated as row upon row of halogen bulbs lit up the area. The walls were reinforced steel and the security was some of the most advanced that they had ever seen, with a retina scanner topping it all off. Everyone was for the most part already set up for entry, having been their sooner than Professor McClellan. The Professor however was of top priority, having been giving access to bypass such inconveniences to get the ball rolling, almost immediately. The group looked around the facility before making their way to their various work stations. Doctor Scott was the youngest member of the staff, graduating from high-school at only fourteen-years of age—becoming a world renowned doctor and success story all before his 20th birthday. He had now been practicing for two-years, also having been the main driving force behind a few practical modern surgical techniques.

  The young doctor looked to be barely even an adult, prompting the Professor to take it upon himself to mentor the young doctor—whom he quickly found was of advanced intellect for his age. Dr. Scott went to work on the incubators, preparing them for testing of his first trial of Anti-viral vaccines. The young doctor had got everything up and running before the Professor even had a chance to observe.

  “Gather around,” the Professor said. “Okay, everyone listen up. I forgot to mention that I had witnessed the first wave of this disease. Everyone lying up in Knoxville Memorial Hospital right now will be the next wave.”

  Chapter 9 way of the undead

  Earlier in the day, at the Health Center at Memorial Drive, Mark Smith and his fellow co-workers sat patiently at the nurses’ station trying to come up with answers. The time was noon, and lunch trays were late.

  Becky gave off a sigh. “I wonder where Nancy went… she’s been gone, almost twenty-minutes now.”

  “I know… I wish the lunch trays would hurry and get here,” Joan said, staring up at the clock.

  Mark stood up. “If she isn’t here in about fifteen minutes, I’ll go down stairs and look. Things were so much easier when we had a working line,” said Mark, hanging up the phone in frustration.

  Facility power began to flicker, going on and off. While looking over the units control board, malfunctions were now visible. The group of nurse assistants stood in wait as the power went completely out, followed by the loud crash of every single door on the unit. “It’s the emergency system,” Joan said. “The backup lights should kick on in a minute.”

  A minute later, the facility was back up and running at half power, most of the lights however were still off. The unit was dark and only dimly lit. Mark walked over to the Head Nurse’s door and peeked around the dark and dimly lit first hall. He then walked on down the hall before knocking, and entering in through the closed door into Ms. Jackson and Ms. Lovell’s room. Once inside he waived to the two older ladies as he walked over to their bedside window.

  “I’m just checking to see what’s going on outside,” Mark explained, openi
ng the blinds further.

  Staring out the window, smoke was seen rising up nearly to the 3rd floor window’s balcony.

  Fewer cars were now occupying the parking lot. And at the far end of the facility, strangely, a line of cars were stalled trying to exit, and all at once. Oddly enough, an ambulance seemed to be blocking both lanes, parked in the middle of the street, siren blaring. As strange as it all was, the many sounds of sirens coming from off in the distance could also be heard, yet close by. With his ear almost pressed against the glass, it was assumed that the sound was carrying from a few blocks over.

  “Something’s not right,” Mark muttered.

  “Hey Becky come have a look,” Mark yelled, down the long, dim hall.

  Back over at the window, they each struggled to get a clearer picture of what could be happening.

  “Nancy’s car is still here, but it looks like a lot of cars are gone,” Mark said, glancing around a bushy tree in the court yard.

  Becky looked around the empty lot. “Yeah, Pat and Alicia from the second floors vehicles are gone. They got here when I did and were supposed to work all day. Where’s that smoke coming from? Why does it look so foggy out?” Becky asked curiously.

  “What’s with all the stalled cars over in front of the corporate offices? And what’s up with that Ambulance blocking both lanes?” Becky asked curiously.

  Through the thick smoke, the scene became more chaotic. Sheila, a nurse assistant from the second floor, came out, running through the parking lot to her car, fleeing in almost a panic.

  “What’s she doing? Mark asked, looking down over the lot.

  “She’s leaving!” Becky said, tapping on the glass, trying to get her attention. “Come back here!”