If it hadn’t been ransacked, he was in great shape, but it was up to fate what would be left for him there. He nudged the door open just like he had the one on Floor X, pushing it all the way open when he saw and heard nothing to alert him to danger. He had made it a few steps out of the threshold when an unsettling sound was followed by gnashing teeth from a creature he had not seen even a second ago. He cried out, not having enough time to aim the firearm before the assault, causing him to fall to the floor with the monster on top of him. It used to be a young woman with brown eyes and blond hair, the brown in her eyes beginning to glaze over as cataracts took hold. Her blond hair had started to turn gray, and he knew that she had been dead since the beginning. He wasn’t certain, though, if one of those spider-like creatures or the crimson mist had taken her but, seeing as she had no bite marks on her to speak of, it was safe to assume the mist had gotten to her.
‘Faith’ had probably made him strong enough to crush her skull, but that wasn’t something he wanted to test out in a moment where he was fighting for his life. He would another time—if he survived his trip to the armory at all. He squeezed his hand holding the gun in between him and the woman who was trying her hardest to rip his throat out and make him her next meal, and the next deceased person to rise and walk the Earth. And all that would depend on the effects of ‘Faith,’ which he was still unsure about in its totality. He placed the muzzle of the pistol beneath her chin, looking into her dead eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” he said as he pulled the trigger, blood and whatever tissue came from her splattering on his face as she collapsed on top of him, crushing him to the floor. He wasn’t sure why he felt he should apologize. He had ended her suffering. Or so he believed. Well, that was what he wanted to believe he had done for those he had ended. Ending their painful existence as a soulless fiend that feasted on the blood and entrails of others.
Caesar knew the gunshot would draw attention, and he was soon greeted with the sounds of growls and howls from within the main hallway that led to the elevators as well as a few offices. He couldn’t help but think that it was a good thing he didn’t need to be headed that way to get to the armory. They had situated the armory well enough away from the main hall that no one could just walk in without having to pass through not only guards but also a massive amount of high tech security. You did have to pass a turnstile that only allowed you through with the swipe of your identification badge.
As soon as he turned, he saw the shadows of the creatures shambling down the hall in his direction across the white linoleum, blood splattered in ominous sprays and patches. His feet carried him away from them, but some of the creatures were faster than others, causing him to have to turn and fire off a round between their eyes. From what he had seen, that was the only true way to kill them and keep the parasite from burrowing out to find a new host. Running as fast as he could, he finally made it to the first security checkpoint, a turnstile that would read the chip within his identification badge, a green light blinking with a slight beep. He dug his ID out of his pocket and scanned it, the light turning a furious shade of red instead of the green and screeching loudly. Then he remembered. This turnstile was broken, not taking every scan the way it should and turning some away, causing you to have to scan it at least three times to get it to work correctly. He scanned it again, the same awful sound echoing off the walls as the dead moved toward him, some pulling away from the horde and even closer to him.
He scanned it again, his only response the red light and the wretched noise. “Oh, come on,” he shouted, knowing that it didn’t matter how loud he was now.
The creatures had already been drawn to him once they saw him. Any amount of sound wasn’t going to make a bit of difference. The card slid across the reader and finally, the small light turned green and there was a pleasant beep, signaling he was all right to enter. He pushed through the turnstile with an overjoyed whoop and moved down the hallway, hoping that that particular checkpoint would keep them out just long enough for him to get inside of the armory with a closed door.
The rubber of his shoes squeaked on the floor as he ran toward the next checkpoint; a retinal scanner. Panic set in when he realized, because of ‘Faith,’ he may not be able to get in through the scanner, and he had no clue how to manipulate it. The scanner looked modern and strangely medieval, the part of the machine that scanned the retina jutting out from the metallic sheet decorated with a digital readout and a speaker. Another arm came out of the wall and down toward the floor at an angle to rest the back of your head against as well as to keep you from moving your head during the scan. It was self-adjustable to your height, an internal sensor told it if it needed to go up or down, as well as the scanning portion of the machine. Worry caused his heart to race as he moved in front of it, the headrest and the scanner moving down toward him, a green laser passing over his eye for mere seconds as the reading took place.
A silent prayer passed through his parted lips as the laser beam moved up and down, his hands trembling around the grip of the pistol as he stood as still as possible. After what felt like an agonizing eternity, there was a soft, mechanical trill, the click of the armory door to his left unlocked, and a robotic female voice said his name.
“Doctor Caesar Meldano, Area 51 Floor X Clearance.”
He never got tired of hearing the title, but now wasn’t the time to be happy. He moved into the armory, pushing the solid metal door open a lot more easily than he had been able to previously. ‘Faith’ made him far stronger than he had been, something he would have to test out at another time for sure. The fluorescent lights blinked on as soon as the motion sensor detected his movements, illuminating the fully stocked room. Those who had built Area 51 originally had a much smaller room with an insignificant stock of weaponry, this room growing along with its inventory over the decades. All guns ranged from semi-automatic to fully automatic weapons; handguns to rifles to shotguns as well as any bladed weapon you could dream of.
Caesar had never needed to venture into this room before, so he wasn’t entirely sure weapons were all that were housed in this area of the building, but he was willing to bet that there was more. As he moved through the room, he picked up a multitude of weapons, removing a large supply bag from the first shelf he came across that held them. He placed the guns inside, knowing for certain that they were never stored loaded, as well as ammunition, but he knew he needed something that didn’t need reloading to get out of the office. When he rounded the corner of a rather large gun safe, his eyes automatically found a long, silver, and menacing machete sticking out of a black leather sheath. It just happened to be the only one. He picked it up and slid a portion of the shining blade out of the sheath, whistling when he saw the newly sharpened edge. He slipped it back into its home and put it over his shoulder.
Heavy knocking started on the armory door, slow and sluggish, meaning the creatures were right on his heels. He quickened his pace and walked toward the back of the large room, taking anything that looked like food rations and tossing them into the bag. As soon as he passed the last shelf, his eyes found a pair of bay doors as well as a pair of neon green and black ATVs facing them, ready and waiting for a willing rider. Without a second thought, he hopped onto one and found the keys already in the ignition, a fab that would open the bay doors dangling next to the key itself, and as he started the vehicle he pressed the button to open them.
When the doors opened, Caesar was shocked at what he saw. The world he had left not even a few days ago was gone, obliterated completely by what it had become. The dead in various stages of decomposition were walking the large parking lot that surrounded the building, and each one had turned in his direction. He was the only living piece of meat on the grounds as far as he knew, and now he was a target for their hunger. He looked off into the distance, knowing exactly where he needed to go.
As he crept the ATV out of the bay, his destination just in sight, the dead watched him with hungry eyes.
***
Slowly, he emerged from the bay leading out of the armory, the entire left side of his face already turning a brilliant shade of light blue with white veins sprouting underneath, running down the length of his neck and left arm all the way to his fingertips. The sun stung his eyes slightly, but he kept moving, hoping the sensitivity to the sunlight would lessen over time. He wasn’t sure what the ‘cure’ that Meldano had been working on had done to him, but he felt different. He felt stronger and faster, but the inside of his chest just behind his ribcage felt hollow, like his heart had stopped beating. He held his hand up to the sunlight and let it hover just over his face, taking in the new appearance of his body. Was he dead? Was he alive? He had no idea, but he was determined to find out what that quack had done to him. And then he remembered, that same quack had injected himself with most of the ‘cure’ that he had been working on. That was why he looked so different. Jenkins had noticed it quickly, even from the back.
He dropped his hand to his side and shuffled out into the parking lot, vehicles scattered in random parking places across the asphalt slab. The dead that walked the parking lot barely registered with him, and he couldn’t help but think of how strange that was. Something within him had transformed, turning him into something that not even the living dead found palatable. At least as far as he could tell. Off in the distance, the sounds of screams and destruction still floated to him on the slight breeze. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, detecting the pungent stench of death and decay on the air. He would have gagged if he still had an unfavorable reaction to the smell, but the urge to retch didn’t come. His body was silent, except for the hunger that twisted his gut and his seemingly empty veins.
The closest vehicle was an old and red Ford truck. The owner, from a distance, seemed to have taken excellent care of it, the pristine red and shining metal sparkling in the sunlight as Jenkins made his way toward it. He was exhausted. Exhausted and hungry, but he wasn’t sure what he was craving. All he knew was that it wasn’t what he would’ve usually wanted, which used to be a large Coke and massive bacon cheeseburger. The thought of it made him frown, his brow furrowing in confusion as at the transformation of his body.
He closed the distance between himself and the truck quickly, each creature he came across acting as if he didn’t exist. He wasn’t sure if he truly did anymore. Not after this. His body was now a confusing mass of tissue and whatever was left inside of it after the ‘cure’ had made its way through his veins, turning him into something unrecognizable. And, at that moment, he was happy that he didn’t have children or a wife at home. This change would surely terrify them, and they would turn him away. Jenkins opened the car door and searched the vehicle for any sign of the keys, but found none. Older cars like this were easier to hotwire, so he did just that and, as soon as the wires sparked, the old truck roared to life. He jumped inside and put it in drive, not knowing where he was going but knowing he needed to leave the field office. There was nothing left for anyone there, if in this miserable city at all.
As he drove through the parking lot, he pulled up to one of the creatures as it staggered aimlessly on the hot asphalt, trying to find something that may never come. Rolling down the window, he reached out of the window when the creature showed some interest in his moving form behind the glass. When his scent hit the air, the creature seemed to gasp and turned away as quickly as its decaying body would allow. It didn’t appear to see him as a form of sustenance like it might have before he changed. Before Meldano did this to him.
He laughed and pulled his arm back into the car, and started driving again, filling with both hatred for the man who had done this to him, and a fascination with what he now was as he drove off into the distance.
Seven Years
Later
Chapter 7
Near the Kentucky Dam
July 2027
Station 4
The hot Tennessee sun beat down on her, sweat beading along her hairline and trickling down her back as she walked casually toward the entrance of Station Four that was situated at the Kentucky Dam near a sleepy Tennessee town. Jenny Meldano couldn’t help but think about how much she loved her hometown and knew this was the best place for her, but she was getting tired of being moved from station to station, never settling down long enough to get comfortable or even make friends.
It had been seven years since the meteorite strike that changed the world into a monster, leaving her orphaned when a small meteorite killed her mother and her father was only God knows where, either dead or living his life as best as he could. She wasn’t sure which. She had been focused on her survival since then, fighting and slaughtering her way through the Dead Zone towards the center of the country before being taken to Station One by G.O.D. She wasn’t there for long before being moved to Station Two, and the rest was history. She worked and did as she was told, but somehow still managed to cause trouble and was forced to move. This was her last step before being cast to the Dead Zone where nothing was sure to survive except for the creatures that had turned their planet into a nearly barren wasteland.
The exterior wall of Station Four had the two words in large black numbers on the gray stone that had been bleached white by the sun. As she watched the commotion outside of the wall, she knew she would be one of the many men and women to be situated at the watch posts at the top of the wall, guarding all those inside, where the least physically demanding jobs were, from what could one day penetrate the Station.
G.O.D. vehicles hugged the wall, circling it to keep watch over the closest creatures on the ground. G.O.D. stood for the Government of Defense, and they ensured the safety of the citizens housed in each town near each Station. The Stations were hubs for manufacturing, farming, and scientific breakthroughs, making sure everyone left in the country had what they needed to survive. So far, it had been a great system, but being run by G.O.D. wasn’t the best form of protection of government, either. G.O.D. were the only ones who could move from Station to Station without repercussions and the only people with access to transportation and the solar energy it took to run any machine or vehicle needed. This equipment was given to each Station so the jobs of those working inside could be completed, but no one owned them but G.O.D. Each piece of machinery was on ‘lease.’ Nothing more. They had also developed a system of identification for the creatures that were now covering the landscape. You couldn’t even go two feet without seeing one of them.
The first level was called a Cranker, the easiest of the dead to avoid. They were slow and had no memories of who or what they were. Not even their names. After the bodies had been taken over by a Syc, the spider-like parasite that burrowed into their skulls and turned their brains to mush, there was nothing left of the person they used to be. Not even the spark of memory. Then there were the Shadows. G.O.D.'s scientists created this form of undead as a way to try to eliminate the Crankers, but this soon failed since they were so much like the Crankers that they reverted to a primitive state of mind quickly enough. The Shadows still had some memories of the lives they once led, but not enough of one to keep them from turning on their living owners and feasting on their flesh, turning those same victims into Crankers. Unfortunately, those who turned didn’t change into the same creature that bit them, but to the lowest level of that creature instead.
Then there were the Revenants, or Revs for short. No one was certain where they came from, but it was assumed that they were an evolution of the Shadow, their memory as well as intellect still intact, but they feasted o
n human blood to stay alive. The only thing that set them apart from the first two, as far as physical appearance went, was their blue-tinged flesh, white-colored veins, and elongated canine teeth, as well as the lack of rotting flesh. What made them dangerous was their speed and their strength. One of them could pick up a car alone, even one of the G.O.D. vehicles, which tended to be much larger.
Another breed of creature had everyone stumped, and they soon became known as the Barbarians. They developed in three stages, but Jenny had never been able to finish one of the classes on the Barbarians that they taught in the Stations to be able to say what they were. All she knew was that the thought of one of the winged creatures made a cold chill run through her body. They weren’t as easy to contain as the Crankers and the Shadows, and they were extremely more primal and vicious than the Revs.
Jenny whipped her hair up into a ponytail, her long mane keeping her from being able to stay comfortable when not shaded by trees in the forest, but the path to the Station from where the G.O.D. officials had dropped them off outside the wall was under the full assault of the sun. She groaned as she crossed the threshold of the main entrance, finding zero reprieve from the draining heat that no doubt would leave her exhausted at the end of the day. This Station, as well as Station One in California, was the worst as far as the heat, but at least the weather in California was dry, and you didn’t have to suffer through the humidity of the southern states. And these days pretty much everywhere was hot, the meteorite shower seven years prior ultimately changing the environment in such a way that living in it was nearly unbearable. Her tank top stuck to her and her denim shorts didn’t help to stop the stifling heat, the sweat even running down into the socks and hiking boots she usually wore. Once she began to work with the Station, she knew that would be changing. Even after everything, the southern Stations tended to keep to the old ways of showing as little bare skin as possible.
Zombified (Book 1): The Head Hunter Page 7