Outbreak: Endgame

by Scott Shoyer

  OUTBREAK

  ENDPLAY

  Scott Shoyer

  Copyright by Scott Shoyer 2016

  Dedication:

  Dedicated to the three people who make getting out of bed every morning worthwhile: my kids, Braeden and Fia, and the woman who brings the sunshine to my dark nightmares, Kelly.

  Praise for Outbreak: The Mutation:

  The gore is absolutely great … Scott Shoyer [is] one of the wonderful surprises of the year and if you like an innovative, creative, absolutely well written and a bloody zombie story just try the Outbreak trilogy, I dare you try to stop reading. I've tried and failed!!

  -Amazon Reviewer

  The unique concept is explained as this story unfolds. With a concept unlike any other I've ever read regarding a zombie apocalypse this is definitely a book worth reading. I only wish it wasn't a trilogy as having to read one more book to fully complete the tale requires a level of patience I don't want to have to find out how everything turns out because right now things seem incredibly bleak for the future of humanity.

  -Amazon Reviewer

  WOW - really really good follow-up to his first novel! There is so much going in this book, but still no way to actually talk about anything without giving something away... right from the first page, this book is insane... absolutely loved it! Must read.

  -Amazon Reviewer

  [The zombies are] the terrifying part of the book horror readers will love. As the scorching action steamrolls along the zombies keep evolving in surprising and gruesome ways. In the beginning they’re closer to traditional zombies, a staggering mindless mass. But then they begin to mutate into something we’ve never seen before. The story is built around a mystery about what they really are and what their apocalyptic purpose is.

  Along the way, hope has been in short supply, but both groups are clinging to a last ditch tactic that just might save the human race. But again, this isn’t just a story about mindless mayhem, although there’s no shortage of that. It’s a story about how the human spirit can kick serious ass against the worst kind of terror imaginable … The writing is intense and vivid, barreling the story along in a way that’s both ferocious and thrilling. It has a cinematic quality like the best kind of horror or action movie.

  -Sheldon Woodbury, author of The World on Fire

  “Shoyer is a powerhouse when it comes to zombies and end of the world fiction.”

  -Eric S Brown, author of the Kaiju Apocalypse series

  “Shoyer raises the stakes with his second book in the Outbreak series, giving us an even smarter,

  deadlier and harder to kill enemy. Loaded with brutal violence and military action and an ending

  that took me by total surprise, Outbreak: The Mutation is a must read!”

  --David Bernstein, author of Toxic Behemoth

  “Scott Shoyer steps into the ring swinging as he continues with the next harrowing volume in the Outbreak series. As I've come to expect from him, he handles his action with a sure hand, both violent and furious, and his characters with unrelenting viciousness. And yet there is a genuine sense of understanding of what makes people tick in his writing that brings his series above the moaning masses of zombie literature. This is great stuff, and I strongly recommend Shoyer and the Outbreak series any time I’m asked for a recommendation on what to read. You can’t go wrong here!”

  -Joe McKinney, Bram Stoker Award-winning author of Dead City and The Dead Won’t Die

  Foreword

  Outer Space

  200,000 Miles from Earth

  1956

  The large alien craft hovered in space on the dark side of the moon. It remained out of sight from the many telescopes on Earth. A scout ship had been sent to Earth a few days ago. The alien craft had waited for a meteor to pass by and had used it as cover to get into Earth’s atmosphere undetected.

  The scout craft had already sent back tons of information about the Earth’s atmosphere, weather, and many of the planet’s inhabitants. This planet was going to be easy to take.

  Just like all the others.

  The race that controlled the ships took no pleasure when invading a planet. They fixed no sense of morality to it. It wasn’t good, nor was it evil. It was just a fact of their existence. They needed to spread their kind to as many planets as they could. It was what they were and what they did.

  The initial data was clear: the lower life forms would be easy to take down. The things called “insects” and “animals” had a simple design and primitive brains that mainly operated according to instinct. They could use that to their advantage.

  The scientists in the alien craft had designed the perfect virus to infect the animals and insects. They’d even incorporated nanotechnology into the virus so that if the higher life forms discovered what the virus was, they’d think that they had accidentally unleashed it. Nanotechnology was fairly new on this planet, but data showed these higher life forms were capable of creating it.

  On the second day on the planet, the scout ship was over the ocean as it studied the various marine creatures. There were many different species under the water, but the aliens didn’t think they would pose much resistance. Those creatures couldn’t even leave the water without killing themselves--a most flawed design the aliens found to be to their advantage.

  As the scout ship flew across the ocean, it mapped the underwater topography, as well as catalogued all the various marine life. Up to this point, the scout craft hadn’t seen the weather on this planet as a threat. There was some rain and lightning, but they hadn’t run into anything that could do any real damage to the craft.

  Until now.

  The craft flew into a pocket of dark clouds. From a distance, it’d picked up some interesting readings and wanted a closer look. It seemed the weather on Earth was stronger and more hostile than first thought.

  The craft entered the clouds and was immediately assaulted with hard rains and softball-sized hail. The spacecraft dealt with worse conditions in space and the crew wasn’t overly concerned by the bad weather.

  As the captain of any ship would say, it’s not what hits you, it’s where it hits you. A few pieces of hail lodged between the propulsion engines and the craft. The ship dipped toward the rough waters below, and before it had a chance to correct its imbalance, more hail slammed into the propulsion systems.

  The craft lost altitude as it continued toward the ocean waters. The crew onboard the alien craft braced themselves for impact. They weren’t concerned about entering the water. They knew the craft’s material was impenetrable. They only worried about the mission they were on. In the craft, they carried the engineered nano-virus, and they needed to deliver it into various animal populations across the planet.

  The ship splashed into the rough waters. The craft lost its propulsion system, and as quickly as everything happened, the scout ship didn’t have time to send its last location to the mothership.

  The craft sank to the bottom of the ocean and rested on a ledge. Their instruments indicated that below them the ocean plunged into the darkness at around eighteen thousand feet.

  The marine creatures sensed something was wrong with this wreckage and stayed clear. The crew inside the craft attempted to fix the propulsion system, but they weren’t equipped to survive under the water outside the protection of the craft. The crew secured the nano-virus and prepared themselves for hibernation. They knew they were going to be underwater for a while. As they placed themselves in stasis, they all knew it was only a matter of time before the higher life forms found the wreckage.

  When they did, the aliens would be ready.

  Prologue

  1

  Huntsville Maximum Security Prison

  Huntsville, Texas

  Two and a
Half Years Ago

  Hector Diaz’s eyes bolted opened. A high-pitched alarm filled the large building and Hector knew the other prisoners were also awake. Hector was familiar with the prison’s other alarms. There was the monthly mandatory fire drill, and various weather alarms for potential hurricanes and tornados. This alarm, though, was different.

  This was the riot alarm.

  Hector and the other inmates at the Texas State Penitentiary at Huntsville, or “Walls Unit,” had heard rumors for a few weeks about some kind of virus that had swept across the country. The guards carefully monitored what TV shows they watched lately, especially the news. A prison like Huntsville was like storing a bunch of gasoline-soaked rags next to an open flame. Combustion was inevitable. The only question was what the spark would be.

  Hector got out of bed and walked over to the bars of his cell. As of recently, Hector didn’t have a cellmate. His most recent roomie had cut his own wrists with a spoon he’d stolen from the cafeteria and sharpened. Prison life wasn’t for everyone.

  Hector had been in and out of the prison system since he was thirteen. He’d started off, as many of his friends did, by stealing cars. Hector, though, didn’t steal them to take them to chop shops for a payday--Hector loved to go joy riding. Hector had four brothers and three sisters and he was the dead-center middle child. His mother was a gentle woman who got mixed up with a monster of a man. Hector believed the only reason his old man had so many kids was to give himself a variety of punching bags for when he came home from the bars. Joy riding gave Hector a sense of freedom and a sense of hope that there was a bigger and better world out there.

  Hector never really minded juvie, and in fact preferred it to home. At least in juvie, you had a chance of making it through a night without getting beaten. Once he’d turned eighteen, though, everything had changed. What little sympathy the courts had given Hector as a minor was gone. He became just another cog in the huge wheel of the Texas Penal System.

  Red lights flashed as Hector looked out of his cell. He heard a lot of screaming and could swear he heard what sounded like muffled gunshots. Prisoners in the other cells screamed and yelled. Hector stood silently and watched, but couldn’t help but feel what was happening was somehow connected to the rumors he’d heard about that deadly virus.

  Two guards ran past Hector’s cell in full riot gear. Hector heard them mention the infirmary and assumed that was where the commotion had originated from. Many prisoners faked illnesses and even made themselves sick in order to get to the infirmary. The beds were more comfortable and you didn’t feel so caged up in there. More than a few inmates believed they could escape once there due to the lower level of security.

  No one, though, escaped from Huntsville.

  The prison was called the “Walls Unit” for a reason. The prison was surrounded by large brick walls that make escape practically impossible.

  Three more guards in full riot gear ran past Hector’s cell.

  “What’s going on, ese!” Hector shouted to one of the passing guards.

  “It is none of your concern,” one of the guards said back. “Just a little commotion in the infirmary.”

  The guards ran off and Hector caught the eye of the inmate across from his cell.

  “Whatever’s going on in the infirmary isn’t no ‘little commotion,’” said the inmate. Hector thought his name was Jackson. Jackson was a scrawny white guy in his late twenties who was serving a thirty-five-year sentence for cooking and distributing meth.

  Hector looked at the man and couldn’t help but agree with him. For the warden to pull the riot alarm meant that shit was out of control. He’d also noticed the guards were fully equipped. They didn’t just have the typical riot gear like pepper spray, wooden batons, and beanbag guns--they carried M4 carbines and side pistols. Some bad shit was going down.

  “Looks like breakfast is gonna be late today,” Jackson said as he smiled and showed off his rotten teeth.

  Hector moved away from the front of his cell and sat back down on his bed.

  Another day in Hell just got worse, Hector thought. He knew the entire prison would pay for the actions of just one or two idiots who thought they could escape. The prison would be on lockdown for at least the next three days. All the inmates would be confined to their cells and only let out to eat.

  Fuck me, Hector thought.

  *

  The three guards arrived outside the infirmary. The infirmary was a huge room with ten hospital beds lined up, five on a side, and with other basic hospital equipment. The drugs were locked up in a separate room and only the warden and the doctor on duty had the key.

  “What the hell’s going on in there?” asked one of the new arrivals. “What’s the situation?”

  “There’s five inmates in the infirmary,” said an older guard with a thick mustache. “They were all brought here after they collapsed in the yard. It is pretty obvious they acted together.”

  “What the hell do they think they’re gonna accomplish?” asked a younger guard.

  “Riker should be here any second,” said the mustached guard.

  Riker was the lead guard of the prison and the CO of the Huntsville S.W.A.T team. If something bad was going down, you called in Riker.

  “What’s the situation!” shouted a man as he walked toward the infirmary doors. He had the name “Riker” sewn onto his shirt.

  “We’ve got five hostiles in the infirmary,” replied the mustached man. “We don’t know if they have hostages, but we haven’t seen the doctor or nurses that were on duty. They also haven’t made any demands.”

  “What about weapons?” Riker asked.

  “There were three guards in the infirmary that we haven’t heard from in over twenty minutes,” another guard answered.

  “Then we assume they have hostages and are armed,” Riker said emotionlessly.

  Riker looked down the hallway toward the infirmary’s doors. He didn’t get the feeling that there was a lot of activity. That made him nervous. The inmates had made no demands, likely had hostages, and didn’t seem to be moving around a lot. That meant they were barricaded in and waiting for the guards to make the first move.

  Riker approached.

  “Gentlemen!” Riker shouted. “My name is Sergeant Jeffrey Riker. I’m the lead guard here at Huntsville, and I’m also the CO on the Huntsville S.W.A.T team. I’m telling you this because I’ve been in a lot of similar situations, and this one won’t end well.”

  Riker paused and gave the inmates a chance to respond. Not only was there no response, he didn’t hear any movement at all.

  “Gentlemen!” Riker continued. “We are at a crucial time. Stand down, lower your weapons, let the hostages go, and everyone walks out of this alive.”

  Riker waited for some kind of response. The situation was spiraling out of control. If the men in the infirmary had no demands and weren’t interested in starting a dialogue, that meant they didn’t see any way out of this situation.

  Riker walked back to the other guards.

  “We’re going in,” Riker said. “They’re armed with hostages and haven’t demanded anything. We need to go in before they come at us.”

  Riker went over the plan. The young guard would smash in the doors and drop to the ground while the others rushed into the infirmary. Riker hated having to go in blind and without knowing where the inmates were, but he didn’t see another way.

  “Just remember: we have six potential hostages, three of them guards,” Riker said.

  The five men walked cautiously but swiftly down the hallway. When they reached the doors, the young guard pushed gently on them.

  “They’re barricaded,” the guard whispered back to Riker and the others.

  The young guard picked up the battering ram and was about to slam it into the door when he stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” Riker whispered.

  “The doors,” the young guard replied. “I forgot that they open outwards, towards us.”

  Befor
e Riker could say anything, the young man reached out and opened both doors. Before he could move out of the way, two bodies rushed forward and tackled him to the ground. Before the guard could react, the inmate sunk his teeth deeply into his throat.

  The young guard screamed as the inmate ripped his throat out. He brought his hands up to try and staunch the flow of blood, but he could only lay there as he drowned in his own blood.

  The inmates that had attacked the young guard immediately stood and rushed the others. Riker raised his M4 carbine and fire. His first four rounds slammed into the chest of the inmate that had torn out the guard’s throat. The inmate was thrown back and crashed against the wall. As he slid to the ground, Riker turned his attention to the other inmate as he charged another guard.

  The inmate was too close and Riker didn’t have time for a head shot, so he lowered his carbine and shot at the inmate’s legs. Three bullets ripped through the attacker’s thigh and threw him off his deadly course. He fell to the ground, and Riker could see that one of the bullets had shattered the inmate’s femur.

  Just as Riker was about to give the order to enter the infirmary, the first inmate he’d shot stood back up. Riker turned his head as the inmate pushed himself off the wall. The guard closest to the inmate was tackled to the ground. The inmate bit at his face and neck as the guard screamed.

  Riker ran over and slammed the butt of his carbine into the inmate’s skull. The inmate stopped his assault on the guard and looked at Riker. As Riker looked into his eyes, a cold shiver ran up and down his spine. He didn’t see anything remotely human in those eyes. The eyes looked like two cataracts--a thick grey-white--and Riker wasn’t even sure how he could see.

  Another of the guards ran to Riker’s side, placed his pistol on the inmate’s temple, and fired a bullet into his brain. Half of the inmate’s head exploded as he fell to the ground.