by Ricky Sides
“We still need to check out this building. There should be people here,” Agent Marx said.
“Okay, I can check on that,” Herb volunteered.
“You’d better let me. This is an airport, and a man carrying a rifle would cause a stir. I can show them my credentials and explain why you’re out here with the M4. They have probably seen us but called the police to report the weapon.”
“I doubt the police would be able to get here. They certainly wouldn’t make it past the stalled traffic on the interstate,” Herb pointed out. “But you are probably right about them being scared if they saw me. I should have worn my uniform instead of my civilian clothing. Go ahead, but be careful.”
“This isn’t my first assignment,” Agent Marx said with an insulted expression on his face.
“I just don’t want it to be your last,” Herb explained, which caused the federal man to relax.
“Thanks, I’ll exercise due caution,” he responded.
Agent Marx walked the short distance to the front door and knocked on it. He could hear murmurs from inside, so he shouted, “This is Homeland Security. I’m Agent Marx. We’re here on official business and need to speak to the man in charge.”
The sound of several voices inside grew louder, but the agent couldn’t make out what was being said. “I’m coming in,” he shouted.
“Marx, wait!” Herb shouted. He had just realized what he had been hearing for the past few minutes, but that realization came too late. The agent opened the door and turned toward Herb to see what he wanted. Then he heard the moans coming from within the building and snapped his head back around to face the interior in time to see several zombies moving toward him. They were almost to the door.
To his credit, Agent Marx was able to draw his pistol and shoot two of the zombies in the head, but then he was forced to retreat before the third could grab him.
Herb opened fire as several zombies came rushing out of the open door. They all bore wounds, indicating zombies had attacked them. Herb covered the agent as he retreated several steps, but then the man stopped and assumed a strong firing stance. He began to fire at the creatures with professional detachment.
“They are getting too close! Fall back!” Herb warned as he too fired at the press of zombies. His latest shot took out a thin woman, who at one time had been a beautiful Asian, but now was a disfigured zombie.
Agent Marx hurried backward several steps, but then the slick soles of his street shoes slipped on the asphalt and he fell backwards. A tall woman with a ragged hole in the side of her neck took a bullet in the stomach from his service pistol as he fell. She moaned and fell on his lower legs. Her teeth sank into his leg just above the kneecap. The agent screamed in pain, put the muzzle of his pistol against the top of her head, and pulled the trigger three times. The slide on the pistol locked open. The woman’s body collapsed and Marx struggled out from under her.
The agent was furious. He ejected his spent magazine and jammed a new one in the grip. He sent the slide forward, chambering a round, and then he added his pistol fire to Herb’s rifle. He went through half the magazine, dispatching another half dozen zombies in the process.
As quickly as it had begun, the battle ended. “You need to get in the trailer. Erma needs to inject you,” Herb said in the wake of the battle as he examined the fallen zombies for any sign of life.
“I can’t. There are only eleven doses left,” Marx argued. “I’ll go clear the building. I’m already bitten, so there’s no need for you to risk it,” he said by way of explanation.
“Just close the door. That many wounded zombies have contaminated the building to a dangerous degree,” Herb explained. “We can’t shelter there.”
“They are still a threat to you and the others,” Marx said stubbornly.
“Agent Marx, get your ass in that trailer,” Herb said. “Without you, no one will be leaving here.”
The agent shut the door and turned to head for the trailer. “You’ve got a point, but I won’t turn zombie before the choppers arrive. We have to save the injections so that they can be used to make more. The scientists will need samples.”
“Just make sure you warn them that you were bitten so that they can take precautions. You’ll need a change of clothes too. She touched yours.”
“You’re right,” the agent said. He tossed Herb the keys to his car. “There’s a suitcase in the trunk. Would you get it for me? I think I’d best strip off these clothes out here before I enter the trailer.”
Sam opened the door to the trailer and stuck his head out. “Are you two okay?” he asked, paling as he saw the bodies of the zombies that littered the parking area.
“Agent Marx was bitten on the leg,” Herb explained as he opened the trunk of the car. “He’s going to strip off his contaminated clothing out here, and then he’ll come inside for treatment.”
“Okay, I’ll have Doctor Langley prepare an injection,” Sam said.
“We can’t waste one on me, Doctor Evans. “I’ll be okay long enough to see to the transportation for you people.”
“Nonsense, man. We have the medication you need to survive. It would be unconscionable to let you succumb to the Akins parasites when a cure is within our reach.” When he saw the look of determination on the agent’s face, he added, “If it were one of us, would you withhold the treatment?”
“That is precisely why I won’t take it, Doctor, because yes, I would indeed withhold it. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Whoever ends up creating more of the nanobots will need samples to study.”
“That would help, yes, but strictly speaking, everything they need to know is on the computers.” Sam said. “As long as they survive, a good modern science lab could manufacture them, with Doctor Langley’s assistance.”
“Strip, Agent Marx,” Herb said. “We need to get inside, so that we’re out of sight. If other zombies come along and don’t see or hear us, hopefully they will just keep walking.”
Sam went back inside the trailer while the Marx stripped off the contaminated clothing. They were about go inside when David exited the trailer. He was carrying a plastic tank with a pump handle and a wand attached to it with a rubber hose. “It’s a disinfectant spray. Erma said I should hose you down. It’s safe, Just don’t swallow any, and don’t get it in your eyes. Any scrapes or cuts will burn briefly, but it isn’t harmful in this diluted form.”
David was thorough during the decontamination process. He even had Agent Marx strip off the boxer shorts he had planned to leave on so that he could spray that region of the man’s body too. When the task was completed, he handed the agent a towel to dry off, and then the man dressed in a fresh pair of boxers and a t-shirt. He instructed the man to make certain the fabric of the underwear didn’t touch the open wound.
“Now you should go inside where the others will continue your treatment,” Davis said.
Herb had been standing guard during the decontamination process. He scanned the horizon in all directions, looking for threats, but saw none. As David led Agent Marx inside the trailer, Herb thought he heard a moan. He turned facing the direction where he thought the sound had originated, but he saw nothing, nor did he hear anything alarming. He shrugged the incident off as a case of nerves, and then he followed the others into the trailer, locking the door behind him as he did so.
Inside, he found Erma and Gil working together to treat the agent’s wound. They were working in safety equipment. They checked his vitals and cleaned the wound.
“We’re going to have to use stitches to close this wound,” Erma explained. She took a hypodermic off the tray beside her and injected the man’s leg near the wound. Then she took a second syringe and moved to inject the man again.
“Hold on, Doctor Langley. I’m not taking the nanotech injection,” Agent Marx said.
“I’m afraid this is just a painkiller,” Erma replied. “It’s a local anesthetic that will permit you to cope with the discomfort of the suturing.”
/> “Then what was in the other syringe?
“That was the nanobots,” Erma responded sweetly.
“You used them on me, despite my orders not to do so?” the wounded man asked.
“I’m afraid so,” she responded as she concentrated on injecting the agent’s wounded leg in the vicinity of the bite.
“Do you even know whether or not it’s safe for humans?” Marx asked.
“It was designed as a cancer cure for humans, so yes, it should be safe. We know for a fact what will happen to you if we don’t use it. Besides, it worked on the vulture,” Erma said.
“Somehow, that doesn’t inspire me with confidence,” the agent said sarcastically. Then he said, “I think it went right to work. There was a distinct lessening of the burning sensation I felt after the bite.”
“You felt a burning sensation?” Erma asked.
“Yes. It began within a minute or two of being bitten and seemed to move up my leg, but it’s almost gone now.” Pausing, he looked at Erma quizzically, and said, “You seem surprised. Didn’t you know about the burning pain?”
“No, but then again, you’re the first bite victim I’ve spoken with after an attack.”
“Well, it burns like one of those hot sports rubs, only you can feel it move under your skin. I don’t mean as in spreading either. You literally feel it migrating. Or at least I could, and once it moved past an area, the burning sensation there ended.”
“That could be important,” Erma said as she glanced at Sam.
“I’m taking notes,” he responded. “I just hope we can read them when I’m finished. It has been a long time since I had to do things this way. I usually dictate notes to a recorder and have an assistant type them up.”
“Did you note any discoloration that you associated with that burning pain?” Erma asked.
“No. Only the area where she bit me looked unusual.”
“Hey, is anybody in there?!” a coarse male voice shouted from outside the trailer.
Herb moved toward the door, motioning for David to join the others. He drew his pistol and flicked off the safety, but held it low beside his leg.
Someone knocked hard on the trailer door. Herb unlocked it and opened the door a crack so he could see outside. Two men stood on the asphalt beside the trailer. “Our car is stuck in traffic out on the interstate. We decided to walk down this road in the hopes of finding a ride. We heard shooting and knew someone was here.”
“We can’t help you. I’m sorry,” Herb said. “The zombies probably have some cars here. You might try checking to see if one of them has the keys in the ignition.”
“We did that already,” the man to the rear admitted. “None of them have a key in them.”
“I’m sorry. We can’t take you with us. We’re on a government mission. You’ll need to find a set of keys. Just don’t touch their blood or open wounds and you should be okay,” Herb explained.
“You mean you want us to search the zombies for keys?”
“That’s what I would have to do in your situation,” Herb explained.
“Now that’s not very friendly of you,” the man closest to Herb said.
“I did say I was sorry, but we can’t help you,” Herb said firmly. He went to shut the door, but the irate man’s hand shot out and held it open. Herb brought his pistol into view and aimed it at the man’s chest. “You might want to rethink what you’re doing,” he warned.
The man backed off with his hands in the air. “I’m sorry. We’re just desperate. There are zombies attacking people back there on the highway,” the man explained.
“We know. We saw them,” Herb said.
“Give them my car, Bennett,” Agent Marx said. “Make sure you get the satchel out of the trunk first, but then let them have it.”
“You’re sure?” Herb asked. He never took his eyes off the men as he waited for the agent’s reply.
“Yes, I’m certain. Just don’t forget my satchel in the trunk.”
“Back off and I’ll come out,” Herb said to the men. “David, when I go out, I want you to secure this door. Don’t you open it for anyone but me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Herb. I’ll do that,” the scientist responded nervously. He wasn’t accustomed to such confrontations, and for a minute, he thought that Herb was about to shoot the man.
“Walk to the front of the black sedan,” Herb instructed the men when he stepped down to the asphalt. “I’ll get my friend’s gear and then you can have his car.”
The men did as he instructed and soon Herb had retrieved the satchel that contained the agent’s extra ammunition and magazines, as well as some other items. Herb tossed them the keys and said, “You’d be smart to stick to the back roads. Good luck, guys.”
The men wasted no time. They were more than ready to get away from the airport. Herb hoped that they hadn’t led any zombies to them.
He carried the heavy satchel back to the trailer and knocked on the door, and then he said, “It’s me, Herb. The men just left. You can open the door now.”
When David opened the door, Herb set the satchel inside on the floor. “I’m going up on top of the trailer to see if those guys led any unwanted company to us. Hand me my rifle, and then I want you to secure the door until I come back.”
David grabbed the satchel, grunting in surprise at the weight as he picked it up. He turned and walked toward the others and returned with Herb’s M4. He also handed Herb three full magazines. “Agent Marx had us reload them from your supply in the bag you brought in earlier,” he explained.
“Thank him for me. I won’t be long, but I want you to lock the door, and don’t open it until I return.”
“I won’t,” David promised.
Herb walked to the back of the trailer and climbed the small access ladder that led topside to service a set of solar panels that were mounted in the roof. Then he turned around and faced the direction of the interstate. He frowned when he saw a dark section in the road. He couldn’t make out the details so he used the scope on his M4 to get a better look. He cursed under his breath as he saw a large crowd of zombies walking slowly down the road toward him. They were milling about as they walked, which made getting an accurate count problematic. He estimated that at least twenty of the zombies were heading for his position. So far, they were giving no sign that they had seen him, but he knew that wouldn’t last long.
Herb climbed down off the top of the trailer. A glance at his watch informed him that they had a minimum of an hour and a half to wait for extraction. But the wait could possibly be as long as three and a half hours. He hurried to the door and knocked as he announced his identity again. This time, Agent Marx met him at the door.
“We’ve got a lot of zombies heading this way. What do you want to do?” he asked the agent.
“Can you take them out?” Marx asked.
“Yes, I could, but not without making a lot of noise, which could cause more of them to swarm in this direction.”
“I see,” Marx said as he stared at the asphalt. “What about pulling the trailer behind the airport buildings? Maybe they will stay on the road.”
“We can try, but I’m afraid they’ll see it being moved.”
“We don’t have many options. Do it,” Agent Marx instructed.
Herb wasted no time in easing the trailer around to the backside of the airport buildings. He saw the hangar building and thought about the possibility of parking the trailer inside it and securing the door. It would be a more secure position, but the down side was that they would be out of sight of the rescue team. Still, it was a decision he thought it best to leave to Agent Marx, so he went back to the trailer to ask him.
Herb explained the plan and waited for the agent to address the idea, but Erma responded, saying, “It’s a good idea, but our team needs light to adequately see how to break down the computer gear. The systems in here have been running on battery power for days now, and they are low on power. Inside the hangar, the solar panels won’t be abl
e to generate any power to operate the lighting.”
“Okay, I was concerned about the rescue team not seeing us. I hadn’t even considered power being an issue,” Herb confessed.
“I’m afraid it is. All this gear uses a surprising amount of power,” she explained. “And we’ve been using the trailer as a camper too, which meant extra power usage for lighting. Not to mention we have been running tests with the computers.”
“How is the break down of that gear going?” Herb asked.
“We’ll have it in time,” Gil assured him.
“Okay, let’s just hope the zombies I saw coming toward the airport didn’t see us move and they keep going. We should know soon. They should be beside the airport in five to ten minutes. I’ll be outside in the prone position atop the trailer keeping watch. If they close in on us, I’ll hold my fire. Hopefully, they’ll move on if they don’t see anyone. If they attack the trailer, I’ll open up on them, but I’d rather avoid that if possible. The noise would attract others. By now, there might be hundreds of them scattered along the interstate. They would be able to hear the gunshots.”
“I should come with you,” Agent Marx said.
“No. One of us needs to stay inside as a last line of defense,” Herb countered.
The agent thought about that for a moment, and then he nodded his head in agreement. Herb was right and he knew it.
Chapter 23
Extraction
“My arm is burning. I’m scared, Randy. I don’t want to die, but I don’t want to become one of those things either,” Amy said. She was sitting on the bed in her room in Herb’s cabin.
“I won’t let that happen to you. I promise,” Randy assured the young woman.
“Will it hurt much when you shoot me?” Amy asked, not daring to look him in the eyes.
“Amy, look at me,” Randy said. When she tilted her face up toward his, he saw the fear in her eyes. “I promise you, if it comes to that, you won’t feel a thing.”