First Interview (Necromorphosis Book 1)

by CT Grey

“But it got hold of you…”

  “It did.” She nodded. “I cannot deny that.”

  “So in a way, you were both a vampire and a zombie in one body. Is that right?”

  Jane closed her eyes and stayed quiet for a moment. What went through her mind, I don’t know, and she never voiced it, as she said, “The sun is rising over the horizon.”

  I flicked my eyes to the head-up display to see it saying, 7.04 am. What it didn’t indicate was the daylight cycle, but it didn’t stop me from believing that a six and half hundred year old vampire could have developed an ability to recognise time, when it was crucial for her to stay out of daylight. “Would you like to—”

  “Yes, I would,” she said. Her hand closed around the cigarette case, while the other one made the lighter disappear under her armour. “If that’s not a problem?”

  << Let her go >>

  “Of course,” I said. “It’s not a problem. Sergeant Red will take you to your cell and we’ll continue this tomorrow.”

  Sergeant Red moved closer and pulled the chair aside, while Jane stretched to her full height. Even though her body looked young, I could see the weight of long years pushing her shoulders down. What she’d seen, experienced and forgotten could probably fill copious volumes, but I doubted she would ever reveal all of them.

  “Good night Henrik,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  It isn’t night, my mind said to me, but my mouth refused to voice it, as what came out was, “Good night Mrs McGriffin. Sleep well. And Sergeant Red…”

  “Sir.” Sergeant Red stood to attention.

  “See she has everything she needs.”

  “Sir.” Sergeant Red saluted. “Yes sir, I will.”

  As the door closed behind them I stared at my papers and her weapons for a while. It was her weapons that made me think about the blight in the world we were going to leave behind. It had been functioning, even if it hadn’t been such a great place for everyone to live. But now it was a place where most humans would try to survive in any way possible. Then again, when we’d started this project there had only been two parties to play, but now with her arrival I wasn’t so sure about who would win in the end.

  Was it going zombies, vampires, or humans or perhaps someone … something else?

  With only question and no answers I peeled the telepresence machine neuro-circuit helmet from my head and stepped out of the cocoon. And the first thing I noticed was Harry and other senior types casually walking around the Command and Control Centre. Some of them were studying details at front of the big screen, a few others were talking to each other by the doors, while the rest stood among the technicians and specialists, who were fully immersed by the data that was streaming into their consoles.

  “HJ.” Harry approached me with a cigar in one hand and a glass of no doubly expensive whisky on the rocks in the other. “Why the long face? What’s the matter?”

  “This.” I waved my hand to the big screen showing the zombies pouring from the Thames House lobby to the front of our secret entrance. “It isn’t exactly a happy day for us. Is it sir?” Then I turned back and asked: “You saw the expression on her face, when she stepped into the room, didn’t you?”

  “You mean Mrs McGriffin?”

  “Yes. She was not only visibly relieved but you could hear it in her voice when she realised we were not going to execute her there and then. And I think she also realised we were more concerned about what’s happening on the outside than the threat she presents—”

  “Yeah.” Harry pointed his cigar towards the rear of the room, where a huge metallic tank served as a conversation room for the top of the hierarchy. “We were with you from the beginning to the end, and I have to say, she has quite a story to tell…”

  “Does it mean that you’re not going to order her liquidation?”

  Harry glanced around the room hastily. It was so strange to see him doing that in front of all of the staff, especially as I knew we’d vetted each person through very strict procedures before we’d even let them know about the program. And it was even stranger to hear him say: “You know we cannot discuss that detail in here, don’t you?” when I knew for a fact there were no turncoats among us survivors. “But anyhow, it’s been a long night for all of us and I think it’s better if we all get some sleep before we proceed with the case, yeah? Besides, I think you need to have some family time before we do anything else, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I sighed, even though I wanted to continue with the case more than anything else even though I longed to be back home, explaining everything to Casey. It was a hard choice to make, especially when everything was still so fresh in my mind, but being away from my little girl was tearing me apart. Just like the case of Lady Jane McGriffin.

  I wanted to tell them that some of the details she’d given us were sketchy at best. There was something she was hiding. And what she’d said about the virus had not really advanced our knowledge. She’d not given us any new insight. All we knew was that the M6-virus was spreading faster and farther than ever before. And I didn’t need to check propaganda posters on the wall, or listen to talking heads reporting the latest figures, to know we had built one of the most hardened facilities under Westminster and Whitehall to save our asses.

  After all, we’d applied the virus to solve a certain problem. But then it had mutated and everyone was terrified of it. Rightly so. The evidence was all around us. There was no cure. Only infection and worsening situation day in, day out. And despite everything Authorities had promised to them, we had not come with anything. It wasn’t needed. Only death and destruction was needed in the world that had embraced anarchy faster than a penny could drop to the floor. But when I applied everything I had thought to Casey, about the good things in life, the question in my mind morphed and became: would the Authorities open the vault doors, and lead the survivors to a mass exodus beyond the cradle of humanity?

  I doubted it would ever happen. I doubted they would ever let the people know about the second phase. And I guessed the reason for that was because the original virus had mutated beyond our control. The creatures – the screamers it was now producing – were far more terrifying than anything the lab scientists had ever imagined in their wildest, darkest dreams.

  And I didn’t even dare to look at them as I passed the glass-walled, well-guarded science laboratories on my way to the community living quarters. I just couldn’t bear ending up in another argument over the solution we’d applied to solve the problem of overcrowding, because I knew they would only repeat the Authorities' well-rehearsed line: “There just isn’t enough room for all us…” over and over again.

  “Excuse me?” A bright and cheerful looking assistant looked up from her softly glowing data pad that she’d been reading in the middle of the corridor. “Did you say something?”

  “I didn’t. Good night.” I hurried away and turned the corner to only find the living quarters strangely quiet, even though it should had been busiest time of the day, with everyone getting ready to start their daily tasks in our sealed facility. But then again I’d been up for more than two days now. So maybe what I imagined wasn’t real; maybe the reality was exactly as it seemed and everyone was just busy with their dedicated tasks.

  And maybe I was just too tired to think straight.

  I slapped my hand on the scanner and waited patiently as the computer recognized my palm-print and opened the door. And when it did, I heard straight away: “Daddy,” as my little daughter ran to wrap her tiny arms around my leg.

  I picked her up and looked her in the eyes and felt my worries melt away. There were no zombies. Vampires. Whatever monsters out there. Only her and a sparkling smile. “How’s my li'l angel?”

  “Come Daddy.” Casey pointed the living room table. “I drew you a picture.”

  “Let’s see.” I carried her to the table and looked down on the picture. But all I could see was green and brown crayon lines under the yellow orb. “Is that a forest field?”

/>   “No Daddy.” Casey shook her head. “It’s a park, stupid.”

  I laughed. “Of course it’s a park. How stupid of me…”

  “Can you guess which one?”

  I looked at the picture again, and I couldn’t say which one, when my mind suddenly pictured in full detail the carnage on the outside. Even then I drew a smile on my face and said: “Don’t know. Which one?”

  “It’s Hampstead Heath.” Casey pointed the stick figures dancing on the grass. “There’s you, and there’s me, and that’s a puppy.” Before I could ask why the puppy was hanging from a bunch of balloons she asked: “Can we go there tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Yes daddy,” she said. “I want to go out to play.”

  A single tear rolled down my cheek. She smiled innocently, unknowingly of the horrors that were lurking in each and every park that London had. “Pleeease daddy. Can we go?”

  “Casey,” I said quietly. “We can’t.”

  “Why daddy?” Casey scowled at me. “Why?”

  I took her hands in mine and said, “Because it’s too dangerous.”

  Her face went sour. She withdrew her hands, folded her arms and didn’t say anything as she pouted like little princesses do, when they are denied their favourite activities for no reason that they can comprehend.

  Surely, the teachers were telling them everything about this new threat, but maybe it didn’t filter down to small children. To them, now was time go out and enjoy the little things, when to us it was all about hiding and making sure that there was a future. So I made the best of the little time we had together, before she went to school and I fell asleep on the couch.

  Eight and half hours later, I woke up to a shake.

  “Sir,” a stern voice said. “Sir, wake up.”

  “Huh.” I opened my eyes and saw a base-guard. “What are you doing here?”

  “They asked me to come to get you, when you weren’t answering your calls.”

  “What calls?” I frowned.

  The base-guard shrugged his shoulders and said, “It’s classified.”

  “Ah,” I said. “Those calls. Where’s Casey?”

  “Here, Daddy.” Casey poked her hand up from behind the dinner table, where she was eating the meal with the Nanny. “Do you want to hear what we did in the school today?”

  “Sir.” The guard tapped his wrist with two fingers. “The guest is waiting.”

  I nodded sharply and said, “When I come back, you can tell me everything. Okay?”

  “Okay daddy,” Casey said. “Have fun.”

  I don’t know how much fun I was going to have by listening to Jane McGriffin’s tales, when I sat back in my cocoon chair and plastered the neuro-helmet on my shaved head. A few switch flicks and button pushes later I was back in the interview room, watching her smoking a cigarette on the other side of the table.

  Jane tapped ash on the floor and asked, “Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes, I did. Thank you very much.” I cracked my knuckles, picked up a pen and opened the case folder. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because your bunks are horrible,” she said. “Really, really horrible.”

  I flicked my eyes towards Sergeant Red standing in his position next to the door, when Jane said, “Don’t you look at him. Your beds are just absolutely terrible.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Jane smiled. “It’s not your fault, darling.”

  “I see you have something better when you go back, so that—”

  “If I go back,” she interrupted. “Because I’m sure you’re planning to get rid of me as soon I have spilled all of the necessary info, aren’t you?”

  I looked at her and realised that there was no point on lying. She knew what was out there and if Jane was as old as she said she was, then there was no doubt in my mind that she had figured out that there was only one way into this facility and no exits. So I said, “We haven’t made that decision yet, but yes, I think that might be a possibility.”

  Jane stretched over the table and took my hands in hers. “If it is, I’ll accept my fate. But you should know that I would be a very valuable asset to your organisation.”

  “I’m sure you would,” I said quietly. “Sure you would.” Then I looked at the transcript and the question list before I asked: “Could we go back to where you left off?”

  “Of course we can.” Jane said. “What would you like to hear?”

  I moved the pen on top of a transcript line and read: “You said that your aim was to get into the blood bank in order to—”

  “Renew myself…”

  *** Jane ***

  But it wasn’t just that simple. I believed that the moment his sweet-tasting blood started galloping down my throat, I would return to my former self. It just didn’t happen. There was no rush. No sense of rejuvenation. There was nothing to indicate that the demon in me was actually functioning properly. And then to my horror, the victim started to put up a fight.

  He elbowed me in the ribs and grabbed my hair.

  Why? I tried to understand, as he fought back, forcing me to bite into his flesh. How could he be able to do that? Vampire victims always went limp, but not him. No. He rolled off me, and started crawling backwards, screaming like a stuck pig. And somewhere behind me, the dead replied to his cries with their own howls.

  The white coat stopped and slapped a hand over his wound.

  “You freak,” he said. “Why are you…?”

  I got to my feet and watched the blood spurting between his fingers, while the hunger in me grew stronger. It was no longer calling for blood, but now it was rapidly developing a yearning for human flesh. I had to get more.

  “What are you doing?” he asked as I moved towards him. I saw his eyes flaring as I opened my salivating mouth as wide as I could. He kicked me. The strike landed squarely on my chest and he shouted: “Get off me.”

  I lumbered a couple of steps backwards before I regained my balance. But then he was already on his feet, scrambling as fast as he could towards the laboratory department. And so did I. I needed his flesh, his blood. I caught him off guard just as he was going to open the next pair of locked doors.

  We landed back on the floor, with his blood spraying all over the walls.

  What happened next, I don’t know, but when I regained my senses I saw him lying underneath me, with half his neck and part of one shoulder torn and bloody to bits. And then I heard noises coming from behind me.

  I looked over my shoulder and saw a naked female stuffing her face from his calf muscles.

  We locked our eyes for a moment, and in that moment I realised how much I had changed. I was no longer a mere vampire, but actually, I’d developed as a zombie; a walking dead that felt nothing… and that… that shocked me.

  I’m not one of them, I thought as I got back on my feet and staggered backwards. With my palms pressed against the wall, I watched her tearing a long piece of meat and stuffing it in her mouth as if it was a piece of a most delicious feast. A feast I had provided in my search for the cure.

  *** Henrik ***

  “You realised that you were sick?”

  Jane looked down and took a long drag from her smoke before she said, “Yes. I was sick. Very, very sick.” She didn’t raise her eyes, just kept them nailed on the floor as if she was going through pangs of guilt. Then she said quietly, “I cannot deny it. Nobody could. Not me, not you, not them over at the hospital. The virus I had contracted from the bites had changed me beyond belief. And I couldn’t understand how it had happened to me. Not because of all the knowledge I’d gathered over the centuries about the vampiric virus. It’s so different from anything that goes around humankind. It changes you through death. You could even call it a necromorphosis. But the main thing is that you remain almost the same most of the time - just as long as you stay out from the ultraviolet places.”

  “Like the black lights we have in the labs?”

  She nodded, almost unnoticeably,
so subtly that only my drone servos were quick enough to notice. “If you say so.”

  << Good. Excellent work HJ. >>

  Although I could see the satisfaction in Harry’s line, I couldn’t say the same thing about how she was behaving. There was something wrong. Something so seriously wrong, as when I asked, “What do you mean by that? You are not thinking about making a hunting ground here—”

  She flicked her head up so fast that I could have sworn it would have broken most men’s necks. Her eyes were glowing eerily, while her face looked almost demonic. “I wouldn’t even think about that, but now that you mentioned it, maybe I should consider it.”

  I raised my hand to stop Sergeant Red as I said, “Yes maybe you should, but then—“

  “Very clever Mister Jackson.” Jane laughed. “You lured me into a trap.”

  I yawned and then said, “You know Mrs McGriffin, you should be careful…” but I also I realised Sergeant Red wasn’t coming to my aid, but to hers. And before I even managed to say anything, Jane raised her hand and said, “Red, please…”

  “He really saw to all your needs, didn’t he?” As those words left my lips the demonic look vanished from her face and I saw it being replaced by a deepening frown. “Figures.”

  I turned my face towards Sergeant Red and said sternly: “When I said you need to take care of all her needs, I didn’t mean all of them, but you had to be a man. Didn’t you? You just couldn’t keep your hands in your pockets and—”

  “Henrik.” Jane slammed her palm on the table. “How dare you?”

  I folded my arms and looked down at my papers. This was turning into a farce. She had obviously turned the base-guard somehow to her side, but at the same time, she was still acting as if he was on our side.

  “Sir,” Sergeant Red said. “May I say something?”

  I didn’t reply. Didn’t even look or move a muscle. It was better to let them to boil in their own stew, as I was not in any rush to help them out of this mess.

  “Look,” Sergeant Red said. “It’s not what you think it is. I didn’t touch her. I swear to God. She’s a proper lady, and I’m a gentleman. Or at least I think I am…”