The Hungry 4: Rise of the Triad (The Sheriff Penny Miller Series)

by Steven Booth

  She heard a faint whirring noise. A small platform slid out from the wall next to the mirrored window. Miller swallowed dryly. She stared down at the device. On the platform was something that looked a lot like a silver writing pen.

  Miller didn’t move. “I’m not signing any consent forms, Artie. If you’re going to torture me, you’re going to have to do it on your own authority.”

  “Torture?” Rubenstein chuckled. “Oh, no. Don’t be silly. I’m merely here to shepherd your transformation.”

  Oh, great…

  “And that is not a fountain pen, it is a syringe.”

  “You can stick it up your ass,” Miller snapped, before she could stop herself. Her cheeks burned with shame because she’d sounded scared. Rubenstein would notice that and doubtless feel a measure of satisfaction.

  “It’s filled with a revised version of the accelerant,” Rubenstein said. “I know you’re already familiar with the effects. Let me assure you that this generation of the serum is safe—especially for you, but best of all now even for anyone who volunteers to become like you.”

  Miller managed a sneer. “Are you sure you want me accelerated, Artie? Rat may have been able to control me earlier, but I’ll likely be able to kick her ass—and yours too—if you get me all spun up again.”

  “Let me worry about the outcome, Penny. Now let us begin. Please take the syringe and inject the contents into your thigh.”

  Miller shrugged. “And if I refuse, will you come in here personally and try to force me to cooperate? I’d really like that.”

  “Penny, please don’t make me threaten you,” Rubenstein’s disembodied voice said. “I can assure you that I am most creative when it comes to retribution. I am also quite willing to follow through on my promises. This is no time to argue. Now, inject yourself at once so that we can proceed.”

  Miller stopped when a thought struck her. “Tell me again. Why do you want me to willingly inject myself with that shit? Why don’t you just strap me down?”

  Rubenstein didn’t answer or elaborate on his previous statement. Miller knew she had scored, but was not certain why or how. She tried to make her next question sound like an accusation, but as it came out, she found herself genuinely curious. “There’s something different going on here. What’s going to happen to me?”

  Dr. Rubenstein huffed into the microphone. Miller knew his patience was fading. “Penny, let’s do it this way. Let me just tell you what will happen if you do not inject the accelerant.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “We have quite a few zombies on site, and we have discovered that we get better data from them if they are fed regularly. Karl Sheppard was the one who pointed that out to us, and it was fitting that his last service to the firm was to help us improve our data.”

  Miller’s stomach sank.

  “As of right now,” Rubenstein continued, “your friend Scratch is expendable. He has one final responsibility to perform. He is to be our leverage to get what we want today. If you fail to cooperate, then his final act will to be to fill the distended, necrotic bellies of some of our test zombies.”

  Miller shook inside. “You wouldn’t do that.”

  “If you fail to cooperate, this event will take place and also be recorded for your forced viewing. We have patience. Now let’s get down to the bottom line. I’m sure you can see that we both would prefer to keep Scratch alive. If you fail to cooperate, he will suffer and die. Isn’t that sufficient motivation?”

  Miller shook her head. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You rotten, soulless, power-hungry piece of maggot-eaten, rancid, week-old zombie vomit. Have you forgotten that you’re supposed to be on the side of truth, justice, and Mom’s apple pie? I’d bet my butt that someone very high up is paying you to protect people like me and Scratch, not turn us into the new, improved upright undead. How can you betray the public trust like this?”

  Rubenstein covered the microphone. It hissed for a moment, as he issued muffled instructions to someone else. He came back on. “I appreciate your appeal to my human side. Believe me, you would be thanking me for what I’m about to do if you really knew what kinds of threats to—what was it?—truth, justice, and Mom’s apple pie are loose in this wicked new world. If you think the zombies are a disturbing mutation of the human condition, then you have no idea what some of the more virulent ideologies are doing to young minds right in our backyard. Our civilization is in its death throes. The clash of cultures is worsening during this crisis.”

  “It’s still about politics, then.”

  “Isn’t it always, Penny? Ah, but now some have suggested that we just airdrop hundreds of our undead friends into a few of these third-world toilets. Load them in a cargo plane and shove them out a mile or two from where our enemies are gathering. Clean up the mess in one fell swoop. I’m sure you can understand why, as a scientist, I am opposed to that solution.”

  “Yes,” Miller said, reluctantly. “I can think of a few good reasons.”

  “Worst of all,” Rubenstein’s voice said, “we would ultimately be making our opposition even more of a problem than before. The virus can mutate. No, the only ethical option is to perfect the Enhanced Bioweapons program and then only our soldiers will be sent into the field.”

  “Super soldiers,” Miller said. Inside, she thought: Why is he taking all this time to explain things to me? If he’s lying about this, then why doesn’t he just force me to inject it? Why does he still need my cooperation? What don’t I know here?

  “The problem with nuclear weapons is that they were too terrible to use. They couldn't be targeted perfectly, and their effects remain for generations. The government that used them would be on the wrong side of history. Our research is about solving these problems, and we are confident that a better world will result from this solution. Best of all, our accelerated troops will be able to return to normal life when their mission is over. They will be celebrated as heroes, and remain in reserve against future need.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out.”

  “I digress. We are talking about you, not me. Penny, I need your assistance to make this program a success. I know your inclination is to resist my authority, but I assure you, it is not in your best interest to do so. And it would be tragic for your lover Scratch. It will be much to your benefit if you willingly cooperate. I assure you, a wonderful future awaits you both.”

  “Well, exactly what kind of future? You were talking about money and glory and shit. What do I actually get if I do cooperate?”

  Miller could almost hear the smile in Rubenstein’s tiny, amplified voice. “Very good, Penny. Here is my offer. I know from my psychological workup of you that you would prefer to simply live your life quietly and as far away from the zombies as possible, and to some degree, other humans as well. I promise to grant your desire as soon as we are done learning what we need from you. A ranch, perhaps, with livestock and horses and a tall, electric security fence… not to mention all the money you would ever need.”

  “And Scratch. If I cooperate, he comes with me. Unharmed.”

  “Unquestionably.”

  Miller had an edge here, she could feel it. Rubenstein needed her to come on board willingly for some reason. He couldn’t just force her. But why? Was it just about the effects on her heart, or was there more to it?

  “Let me think for a minute.”

  Rubenstein said, “Don’t take too long. Time is of the essence.”

  Miller considered her options. The good doctor was clearly lying through his big, fat, arrogant teeth about something, but there wasn’t much she could do from in here. She also couldn’t just stand here all day and argue with him. Scratch was in danger. He was her responsibility, as well as her man. If she didn’t cooperate, Rubenstein would follow through with making him a zombie meal, Miller was sure of that. Rubenstein had his own reasons for hating Scratch, including but not limited to the biker’s constant disrespect. If Miller did agree to this bullshit, she stil
l couldn’t guarantee his safety, but she would be free, have power, and get back in the game. She had a hell of a lot better chance of rescuing Scratch if she were accelerated again, instead of just a normal woman locked up in some sci-fi acrylic-walled prison cell.

  Would they bring her back down? Because to stay jacked up was to die.

  Probably not.

  Miller figured that was the heart of Rubenstein’s lie. He’d be perfectly willing to sacrifice the lives of his first soldiers just to prove the viability of his program. Test results could always be fudged later on. This was a suicide mission. Rubenstein was a certain type of man, the kind who always manages to end up on top with bags of money. Miller would have to find some way to get a hold of some of the antidote before she made her final move. If not, as Sheppard had pointed out many times before, she could wind up burning out her heart. Acceleration would eventually be terminal. However, she would just have to deal with that problem when it came up. She had no moves left. Miller put her hands up and walked over to the mirrored glass.

  “Fine. You got me. I’ll spin myself up for you.” She walked over to the tray in the wall and grabbed the syringe. “In the thigh, you said?”

  “Precisely.”

  Rubenstein stopped talking. Miller was surprised that he didn’t take the opportunity to gloat. She looked down at the syringe. It was an auto-injector, like one of those epinephrine pens people keep in case of anaphylaxis. It would work through a layer of clothing. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of letting him see her strip down again. She let it hover over the leg of her pants. Her hand didn’t shake. She took a deep breath and released it, calmed herself and placed the device on her pant leg. She took another deep breath to relax. She touched the button. The auto-injector snapped, she felt a slight sting, and the accelerant was sent coursing into her thigh muscle.

  “Well done, Penny.” Rubenstein’s voice went away.

  Miller kept breathing deeply. She did not want to feel tense or afraid. She waited for something to happen. At first, nothing did. Her heart didn’t start racing, her body didn’t feel any different. She certainly wasn’t as hungry, horny or aggressive as she thought she would be. Had they dealt with all the weird side effects, or was it a dud? Christ on a crutch, did this thing actually even work?

  “I don’t feel anything, Artie. Was that it?”

  But before Rubenstein could answer, Miller heard another voice and this one came from very, very far away…

  Penny? Penny, do you copy?

  Miller felt dizzy. “Rat?”

  Penny?

  The voice was much closer, almost behind her. Miller turned in a circle but the room appeared the same, just a clean prison without any windows. She didn’t see where Rat’s voice could be coming from. It wasn’t located where Rubenstein’s speaker was hidden. Rat’s voice seemed to be nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

  Penny?

  “Yes, I can hear you, Rat,” Miller said at last. Her mouth felt dry.

  Hot damn! This shit actually works! Rat paused for a moment. Dragan, report in.

  Then, again, far in the distance, from well beyond the walls of her cell, Miller heard Alex speak. Well, not exactly speak, but she heard him loud and clear. What do you want me to say?

  That’s good enough, replied Rat. Then, from through the hidden speakers set into the wall, Miller heard Rat again, but this time the voice came in through her ears, and was not just inside of her head. “Both subjects are up and online, Doc. It worked just like you said it would.”

  “Excellent,” Rubenstein crowed. The microphone squealed like a dying mouse.

  Miller could feel her frustration rise. Her mind whirled in circles. “What’s excellent? There’s nothing wrong with my ears. We already knew perfectly well that the accelerant improves my hearing. So stop wasting my time. ”

  “Perhaps you don’t understand, Penny,” Rubenstein said. His voice was intended to be soothing, but it grated as always. “Major Hanratty wasn’t speaking aloud, and neither was Lance Corporal Dragan. The effect we had hoped for has occurred. You were actually hearing their thoughts.”

  “Bullshit.” It was lazy but the strongest thing that Miller could come up with. “Who the fuck do you think you are, Artie, David Copperfield? What are you going to do for an encore? Are we going to try to make the Statue of Liberty disappear?”

  Miller felt an odd sense of nausea overtake her, and the room seemed to spin. She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing again. She opened her eyes and stiffened. Abruptly, Miller could see herself—not in the mirrored surface of the window, but from inside the observation room. She could also see Rubenstein and four technicians, one of whom was running a video camera. She was somehow in two places at once. They hadn’t been lying. They were all linked together.

  Miller blinked. She hadn’t gone anywhere. She knew two realities. She was clearly still in the bluish-white cell, but there was Rubenstein and the others, and there was Miller herself looking confused and scared. She approached the mirrored window, but could also see herself moving forward from the other side of the glass. It wasn’t her reflection in the window that was for certain. Perhaps because she’d been calm and rational, the drug had altered her consciousness in a huge way.

  Miller could feel her pulse racing as the accelerant took effect and the virus’s DNA began to express itself. The pace was more gradual than before, but the signals from inside were the same. Her entire system was beginning to pick up speed. “Okay, I’ll bite. Now what the hell is going on?”

  Miller remained in the room and elsewhere at the same time. No one answered her with words just images. Because then, in her vision, Miller picked up a hand mirror. Her fingers seemed odd, longer than usual, and they had dark nail polish on them. The other Miller lifted the hand mirror and held it up to her face.

  Rat stared back at her.

  Miller backed away from the window as quickly as she could and nearly lost her balance. She tried to bring herself back into her own body. She nearly vomited on the pristine floor.

  Easy, Penny, you’ll learn to juggle this with a little bit of practice.

  “What the fuck did you do to me? How are you people living inside my head?”

  “Congratulations, Penny,” Rubenstein said. “You, along with Major Hanratty and Lance Corporal Dragan here, are now a member of the first living triad in human history.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  THE NEVADA DESERT

  Miller was dripping with warm streams of sweat, and not only because the desert on the outskirts of the base was so hot, dry and uncomfortably bright. The drug was really doing its thing now, messing with her entire system. She was glad to have the military jumpsuit that they’d made her wear, even though it was scorching inside too, because the sunshine was brutal enough to turn her fair skin into something resembling barbeque potato chips.

  Lovell drove their vehicle. He stared straight ahead. He still hadn’t said a word. Perhaps he felt a bit guilty. But she couldn’t get inside his head. At least, not yet.

  “Answer me something, Rat?”

  “What?”

  “How the hell is it that an operation that comes up with a magic military serum this good doesn’t have the good sense to issue SPF Nuke sunscreen to their personnel?”

  “Write your Congressman.”

  “Evidently the possibility of me dying from skin cancer in the future isn’t a high priority for Rubenstein and crew.”

  “No surprise there.”

  Miller’s attempts at humor fell flat, even to her own ears. She was on edge. Even Rat seemed tense. Learning the specifics of their mission didn’t frighten Miller. What was disturbing her right now was something else, something at once deep inside her soul yet far, far away. The effects of this accelerant were unprecedented. Her inner world had swiftly become a strange, unstable place full of strange voices. It was as if her mind was no longer her own. Miller didn’t like it one bit. She’d never felt so frightened.


  Lovell drove on. The sun beat down. The Hummer swiftly took them to the north side of Crystal Palace. As they drove further from the center of the base and out onto the hardpan, Miller began feeling strange. Then stranger still. Odd thoughts rippled through her brain like molten lava. Intense emotions followed—dark feelings of despair, hopelessness, frustration, and then more powerful than anything else, there came a savage sense of… hunger. They’d fed her before they let her out of her acrylic cell. Her stomach was full. It made no logical sense, yet a need to bite down on something almost overtook her. She fought an urge to ask for a food bar and some water. Her mind was staggering around like a whiskey drunk on St. Patrick’s Day. It was the undead within. She had already learned to block out some of the noise in her brain, but only some of it. She still heard Rat occasionally, and now and then Alex. But there were those other voices—so many of them.

  Miller looked out the window of the Hummer, scanning the desert, unconsciously searching for the source of the nagging, dreadful feelings of despair. Her eyes narrowed. She spotted a rippling shadow to the east and pointed.

  “What’s that?” Miller asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Zombie corral,” said Lovell, casually, breaking his long silence.

  Rat continued the thought. “Test subjects and leftovers, Penny. They have to store them somewhere, right?”

  Miller squinted across the sunlit desert. Their vehicle drew closer, closer still. The shadow became a row of buildings and tall barriers. Miller focused her vision. There, behind a high security fence, stood a horde of fresh zombies. Hundreds of them, just milling around in the heat, their feet stirring up clouds of beige dust. Her heart kicked into high gear. She could feel their misery. Miller felt her eyes well up with sadness. As they drove by the corral, she caught the stench of decomposition that wafted across the sandy desert floor. She gagged. But it wasn’t the smell that was getting to her.

  This close up, she could actually hear them.