Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Patient Zero
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He could hear people behind him screaming. He could hear the zombies moaning as they kept coming forwards. More coming up the stairs and filling the space. People were falling down and being crushed.
A middle-aged woman in a burgundy business suit vanished suddenly. He turned and saw her being dragged under the feet of the people gathered behind her. The man in the luminous cycling top came forward to take her place. One after another like zombies themselves.
“Your arm,” the boy said.
Dale ignored the boy. Tried to ignore the dizzy sensation that was coming over him.
He turned away from the shutter. Whoever was in charge outside seemed content to leave them to die. He shifted the boy to his other arm. A jolt of pain as he moved the limb. He fought the wave of sickness but couldn’t stop it and vomited down the front of a woman’s blouse.
“Listen up,” he shouted.
No one seemed to hear him.
He squeezed the trigger and fired into the ceiling. Brick rubble and plaster came down on them like snow. Still nobody looked at him.
“What are you doing?” the boy shouted.
Dale started to move away from the exit. The people crowding around him reluctantly gave way to let him through.
“Getting you out of here,” Dale said.
* * * * *
He knew there were other exits. Other soldiers guarding them in case the zombies found their way there. His plan was to convince them to let him and the boy out. He thought he could do it as well.
Before he’d made it to the other side of the crowd, which was now an even mixture of zombies and humans, he heard the mechanical whine of the shutters opening. He heard people shouting and others screaming. The zombies surged forward with all the rest.
It suddenly seemed reckless for the army to open the shutters. There were a thousand zombies trapped in the station. It would be impossible to destroy them all once they’d earned the freedom of the street.
Dale turned with all the rest. The boy leaning heavily in his arms, for a moment he thought he was just carrying a dead weight. He held his gun like a club and pushed people out of the way. His will to live greater than his secondary desire not to hurt innocent people. He wasn’t even sure there were any innocent people left. They had probably all been bitten by now. Ticking time bombs that would turn into zombies at any moment.
Over the heads of other people, he could see the soldiers on the street. Their guns raised and aimed at the people coming forward. Everything seemed to slow down. Dale could see fingers on triggers, the slight tilt of the head that said they were listening to something on their headsets. Waiting for orders. ‘Open fire. Civilians are expendable.’
He put his hand in the air and started waving his gun. Arms grabbed at him. He felt himself being pulled back and down into the crowd. If the zombies didn’t get him, then he would be trampled to death.
“Hold your fire,” he shouted. His voice was drowned out by the moaning zombies. “Hold your fire!”
Dale pushed forward. The boy in his arms moving again, trying to get free. He was calling a girls name, his sister perhaps. Dale ignored him and pushed an old woman to the ground to get past her.
He managed to pull free of the grabbing hands and push himself and the boy to the front of the crowd. The child saw the guns aimed at them and buried his head in Dale’s shoulder. Dale stopped. He was panting.
“Don’t shoot,” he said.
The guns didn’t waver.
Around him, other people began to move forwards. He wanted to tell them to stay back but they couldn’t get far enough away to be safe from the high power machine guns.
Dale waited for the soldiers to receive the kill order.
The soldiers’ heads snapped upright. Dale waited. He tried to turn the boy away even though he knew it wouldn’t protect him. At this range, the bullets would go straight through him and into the child.
The silence felt heavy. He knew that this was the last thing he would ever experience. His arm throbbed painfully and he wondered if it was for the best. It would be impossible for the army to tell who was infected and who wasn’t. By the time they had run tests, it would be too late. He knew that this was the sensible decision and didn’t hold a grudge against whoever had made it.
“Stand aside,” shouted one of the soldiers.
Dale opened his eyes to look. No one had started shooting yet.
“Move aside Pope,” the soldier in the middle said.
Dale was too surprised to move. The boy had begun tugging on his unhurt arm.
“Now Pope, now!” the soldier said.
Dale nodded. He was dimly aware that his life was being spared. Slowly he moved away. Other people followed.
* * * * *
He carried the boy away from the station. There were more people in the street. There were white vans that looked like ambulances and a helicopter.
A hand touched his arm. Dale turned to see a red-headed woman in her fifties wearing a black coat.
“Mr Pope?” she said. Her voice was calm.
Dale nodded.
“May I?” she said. She nodded at the boy and Dale handed him over. She put him on the ground. “Can you wait here for me sweetheart?” she said to the child. “There will be someone along to help you shortly.”
The boy nodded.
She turned back to Dale. “Follow me please,” she said. “There isn’t much time.”
Dale was used to following orders, even if his superior officers told him often that he wasn’t very good at it. He was glad not to have to think for himself. He nodded and followed the red-headed woman away from the station.
There was a white van with its back doors open. It looked a little like an ambulance but there were no markings to suggest that it was one. The woman told him to get into the back and Dale obliged.
A man with shaved black hair sat in the back. He stood up.
“Onto the bed please Mr Pope,” she said. She closed the door behind him and the engine started.
Dale looked at her. She smiled.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” she said.
He climbed onto the bed. The man pulled leather straps over him and fastened them. Dale looked at the woman.
“It’s for your own protection,” she said. “We don’t want you having an accident on the way.”
“Where are we going?” Dale said.
The man picked up a small metal tray and the woman turned to pick up something else.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” she said. “Until then there’s no need to concern yourself.”
Dale saw that she was holding a syringe filled with colourless liquid. She came towards him. He didn’t try to get away.
“Something for the pain,” she said.
Dale nodded. He felt the needle go into his arm and the edges of his vision began to cloud. He was dimly aware that the van had begun to move.
He woke only once on the journey and barely then. A loud explosion still echoed. He could feel the ground shaking. He turned his head to find the lady and ask her what had happened but he fell asleep again before he saw her.
CHAPTER TWO
Dale woke to the sound of beeping. He was laying down and didn’t try to move or open his eyes. His body felt heavy and weak. His mouth was dry. He hadn’t dreamed but now he saw the boy looking at him, an expression of terror on his face.
‘Why did you leave me?’ the boy seemed to say.
Dale tried to answer. He hadn’t felt bad about it at the time. But why had he left the boy to go off with a woman who hadn’t even identified herself? What if the boy had been hurt? What if he had been killed?
He tried to turn away from the child but everywhere Dale looked he saw his face. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to.’
“Are you with us Mr Pope?”
He opened his eyes. Everything was out of focus. He stared up at a white ceiling.
“I’m over here Mr Pope.”
Dale turne
d. He saw the red headed woman standing in front of a door. Next to that there was a long window that occupied the rest of the wall. He could see a corridor and more windows outside. Two old men in lab coats walked past.
She closed the door and locked it. She walked around the room and he watched her. The other walls were white. She sat down in a chair at the end of the bed.
Dale tried to sit up but he didn’t have the strength. He watched her past the end of his feet.
“How’s your arm feeling?” the woman said.
Dale moved his arm. He looked and saw that the bite mark had healed. He turned back to the woman. “How long have I been here?” he said.
The woman smiled. “Don’t you want to know why you aren’t a zombie?” she said. “Or do you already know?”
“Know what?” Dale said. The beeping sound had remained steady but now it became quicker.
“All in good time Mr Pope,” she said. He saw that she had a clipboard on her lap. She glanced down at it.
The beeping sound began to slow down.
“First of all, my name is Dr. Beck,” she said. “But you can call me Velma.”
Dale nodded. The movement made him dizzy.
Velma stood up. She held out her hand and Dale managed to raise his enough to shake it. “Good,” she said. “Very good.” She turned around and picked up her clipboard. She wrote something on it that Dale couldn’t see. “You’re making remarkable progress Dale… may I call you Dale?”
Dale shrugged.
She put the clipboard back down on the chair and stood by him so he could see her clearly. “How are you feeling?” She took a small torch out of her coat pocket and leaned over him. She shined it into his eyes one after the other and he couldn’t raise his hands to stop her.
“What’s going on?” Dale said. “Where am I?”
“All in good time Dale,” Velma said. She retrieved her clipboard from the chair and wrote something on it. “Please answer my question.”
“Question?” Dale said. He couldn’t remember her asking a question.
“How are you feeling?” Velma said.
“Tired,” Dale said.
“That’s to be expected.” She wrote. She put the clipboard down. She came back to stand beside him and Dale braced himself for whatever she was going to do next. Velma just stood there. “You have some questions, I’m sure,” she said. “But let me tell you what I can first and then anything you aren’t clear about we can go over. How does that sound?”
Dale nodded.
“Here, let me make you more comfortable.”
There was a mechanical whir and Dale felt himself being moved forwards. The bed adjusted itself and he was forced into a sitting position. Velma smiled at him and then returned to her seat.
“Now Dale, you are at a research facility run by the army. The Combined Army and Scientific Research Institute. CASRI. I should tell you that you are still considered a soldier at this point and under direct orders to assist us in whatever way we need. Do you understand?”
Dale nodded. He had never heard of CASRI.
“Good, now then, onto business. You remember the Battle of Oxford Circus?”
“It already has a name?” he said.
Velma nodded but didn’t smile. “Its been a month since the battle Dale. It was necessary to keep you sedated. There have been some changes since you were last awake.”
“What sort of changes?” Dale said.
She looked down at her clipboard but he didn’t think she was reading the answer to his question. “We underestimated the potential of the virus,” she said. “It was assumed that direct contact with the infected was required. We found out too late that it is transmitted via blood and the virus is remarkably potent. It remains contagious for weeks.”
“What are you saying?” Dale said. He felt as if he was sinking into the bed.
“The zombies have overwhelmed us,” Velma said. “We are one of very few secure institutes left.”
Dale felt numb.
“They’re everywhere Dale,” Velma said. She shook her head. “The army can’t cope. If we don’t do something soon, there will be no hope.”
Dale thought of the little boy. He wondered if he had survived but he didn’t believe in miracles. He shouldn’t have left him there. He should have made sure that the child got to safety. When he looked up again, he saw Velma watching him.
“I was bitten,” Dale said.
Velma nodded.
“But I’m not…”
Velma shook her head.
“Why?”
She smiled. “That’s what we need to find out,” she said. “We’ve been doing some tests.”
“What sort of tests?” Dale said. The beeping had become quicker without him realising it. He wanted to stand up and fought against the weight of his own body.
“There have been some interesting results,” Velma said as if she hadn’t heard him.
“What sort of tests?” Dale repeated. “What have you found out?”
“We’re really very lucky to have found you,” Velma said.
Dale leaned forwards. The beeping was now so quick that it was almost constant.
Velma stood up. She walked towards him and put a hand of his chest. It was only gentle but enough to push him back down. “Please try to stay calm,” she said. “I will tell you everything you need to know.”
Dale didn’t have the strength to fight her. He leaned back down and waited for his head to stop spinning and the beeping to return to normal. When he opened his eyes again, Velma was standing by the door holding her clipboard.
“I think that’s enough for today,” she said. “We don’t want to overtire you.” She unlocked the door and opened it.
“Wait,” Dale said.
Velma stopped with the door open and turned back towards him. She didn’t say anything.
“The boy I was carrying,” he said. “Is he… did he…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.
Velma smiled consolitorially. “I’m afraid you were the only survivor Dale.”
He fell back onto the bed and closed his eyes. He heard the door close and lock but fell unconscious again before he could think about what she had said.
* * * * *
Dale recognised the man from the van. He was tall and dark skinned. His head was neatly shaved. He said his name was Bradley and that he was there to look after Dale.
Dale didn’t know how much time had passed since Velma had left the room. He was awake again but he could no longer trust his senses. A little of his strength had returned but he hadn’t managed to stand up yet. The beeping sound had stopped but he didn’t think he was dead.
Bradley was sitting in a chair at the far end of the room. The lights were bright in the room and dark in the corridor, so he was also reflected in the large window.
“Have you worked here for long?” Dale said. Bradley had barely said more than his name since Dale had woken and found him sitting in the room.
“Two months,” Bradley said.
Dale nodded. “You got a family Bradley?”
“A wife and two,” Bradley said. “A boy and a girl.”
“They here as well?”
Bradley nodded. It felt like talking to a brick wall but Dale was desperate for news about the world. What had happened in the month that he’d spent asleep? How much had changed? How many people were left?
“They look after you?” Dale said.
“We’d be dead if we weren’t here,” Bradley said.
“What’s it like now?” Dale said.
The door opened before Bradley could answer. They both turned and Dale saw Velma walk back in. An old man in a suit followed her. Bradley stood up.
“Thank you, Bradley,” Velma said. “We’ll be okay on our own now.”
Bradley nodded and walked out the door. The old man closed and locked it behind him. They both turned to look at Dale.
Velma smiled. “Good morning Dale.”
Dale nodded.
“Hello Dale,” the man said.
Dale nodded again.
Velma dragged the chair that Bradley had been sitting in across to the bed. Dr. Ingram sat down and crossed his legs at the knee. Velma sat down beside him.
“Dr. Ingram is just here to observe,” Velma said. “And answer any questions that I can’t.”
Or that you aren’t authorised to, Dale thought. He’d been a soldier for long enough to know how the game worked. Dr. Ingram had more of an old soldier vibe than scientist about him.
“Are you going to tell me why I’m here?” Dale said. His head felt much clearer today. “Why I’m not a zombie?”
Velma turned to Dr. Ingram as if asking his permission to answer the question. Dale stuck by his evaluation of the dynamic between them. Dr. Ingram gave a barely perceptible nod and then Velma turned back to Dale.
“Dale, you’re here precisely because you haven’t turned into a zombie.” She paused but he didn’t fill the gap. “With any natural virus there is always a certain percentage of the population that develops an immunity,” she said.
All of the air seemed to have been sucked out of the room. “You’re saying I’m immune?” he said.
Velma again turned to Dr. Ingram and he again gave his tacit approval for her to continue. “Not exactly,” she said.
“But I’m not a zombie,” Dale said.
“No,” Velma agreed.
“But I was bitten so I must be immune,” he said.
“Not quite,” Velma said. “You see there are people who are immune to a virus and those who are vulnerable. Between the two they make up almost one-hundred percent of the population. But there is also a much smaller group. This group contracts the virus but their autoimmune system doesn’t destroy it. The virus continues to exist in their system without ever developing the symptoms we expect to see in the vulnerable percentage of the population.”
Dale saw two women walk past the giant window. They didn’t turn to look in the room but seemed to speed up as if they knew he was watching them.