Roger chewed the inside of his cheek as he stared at the map. He pointed to one of the circled areas. “This is on the edge of town. Probably has clear sightlines for defense.”
Hatcher nodded. “That was one of my first choices, as well. I just don’t know if they’re on city water or a well.” He leaned back in his seat and shook his head. “Our best guesstimate is that the water tower is about dry. I figure a couple more weeks then we’re on bottled water.”
“Unless we can power the well pumps at one of these places.”
“Exactly. In this environment, water is probably the most important thing to consider.” Hatcher sighed and pointed to the map. “Standing water can’t even be considered. The river…we’d have to come up with a hell of a filter.”
“Wells sound like the best bet.” Roger looked up at him. “When do we start?”
“First thing tomorrow.”
Vivian closed her notebook and stretched, a yawn escaping as she came to her feet. She glanced to the corner of the lab where Charles and Broussard were still working.
“Viv. Come here a moment.” Charles waved toward her. “I think we’ve found something.”
She approached cautiously, afraid that Broussard would break into another fit if anybody got too close. “What did you find?”
Broussard turned and gave her a smile. “I think we’ve discovered the key to reversing the mutations.”
Charles beamed at her. “If he’s right, all of the infected could be eligible for your treatment.”
“Including yourself?” The words escaped her mouth before she thought.
Broussard turned and stared at Charles. “You are infected?”
Charles gave him a tight-lipped smile and nodded. He pointed to the generator in the lab. “That’s what keeps me focused.”
Broussard stared at the machine then looked to Charles. “But, you do not exhibit any of the symptoms.”
Charles shrugged. “It could be a combination of the anti-virals that are in her treatment plan and the generator. We can’t be certain.”
Broussard stepped back and stared at Charles harder. “And you have been working with me this entire time? While infected?”
Charles nodded. “I suppose we should have told you, huh?”
“That would have been nice.” He looked to Vivian. “And you? You decided not to tell me?”
“Would it have mattered? Charles is one of the sharpest minds here. Has his assistance not been appreciated?”
Broussard fell into his chair and continued to glance between the two of them. “It would have been nice to know, yes.” He inhaled deeply then blew it out slowly. “Regardless, we think we have found a way to use the primordial sample you collected and force the mutated virus to revert to its original form.” He glanced to Charles again. “Dr. Carpenter has told me that you have a treatment, yes?”
Vivian nodded. “We have a single test subject that appears to be ‘cured’. His blood work shows that there is still a viral load in his blood, but we can’t be certain that it’s active or if it’s been rendered harmless.”
“How do you mean?”
Charles shrugged. “Like herpes. Once you have it, you always have it.”
Broussard’s eyes widened. “But can it manifest again like herpes?” He stood slowly and watched Charles cautiously.
“Calm down, Dr. Broussard. Charles is harmless.” Vivian stepped forward and pointed to the lab books. “You have something to show me?”
Broussard nodded slowly, his eyes not leaving Charles. “Oui. I mean, yes.” He slid his notebook closer. “We can splice this protein into the primordial sample’s DNA.”
She looked at his work and he slipped in closer, his voice lower. “I am surprised at how quickly this virus has mutated. Usually only RNA variant strains mutate that quickly.”
She nodded. “I wondered if it mutated so much because it was no longer in a high temperature environment.” She stood and squared her shoulders, trying to stretch the stiffness from her neck. “You are aware that this virus was originally located in a hot spring, yes?”
“Oui. I have read your reports.” Broussard scratched at his chin as he considered her theory. “I suppose that once it was released into a much colder environ, it mutated to adapt.”
Charles pointed to the DNA printouts. “As you noted before, Viv, the protein chains that mutated were slight, but significant. What Dr. Broussard proposes would cause the shift back to the original strain and prevent it from mutating again. He effectively locks the changes into place.” He smiled at her. “Then your treatment should be effective.”
She sighed and shook her head. “Delivery of the treatment is the problem. It’s not like we can aerosolize it and release it over populated areas.”
Broussard gave her a confused look. “Perhaps we can. But first, we need to test this change.” He stood and looked to Charles. “If you are still willing to assist me, we can begin tonight. Perhaps by morning we will have a variant that we can test, oui?”
Charles gave him a broad grin. “Of course. Let’s get started.”
Simon and Sinner drove slowly through the residential area. “You sure this is where they dumped you out?”
Sinner nodded. “That’s where I stole the truck. See the bald spots in the grass? That’s where it sat.”
Simon took another long pull from the whisky bottle then leaned out of the window. “Olly olly oxen free!”
He laughed to himself as he slid back into the seat. Sinner stared at him as if he’d lost his ever-loving mind. “Really?”
Simon shrugged. “Why not? You said they looked like pussies, right? Maybe they’re scared we’re here to screw them over.” He smiled at his own joke.
“I don’t know if I’d want these assholes working with me or not.” He slowed the truck and peered down the street. “They could be inside any of these houses.”
“Or they might have found wheels and took off in a different direction.” Simon huffed and slumped in his seat. “The world is gone to shit, Crazies running around eating anybody they can find and we’re searching for a handful of pussies to help us storm the castle.” He glanced at Sinner and grinned. “Sounds like a hell of a time to me.”
“We should find a prison. Recruit from the inmates inside.”
Simon rolled his eyes. “If they were in prison, they’ve probably starved to death by now.” He tapped at his chin. “Unless they started eating each other.” He raised a brow at Sinner. “It’s possible there are some survivors.”
Sinner shook his head. “Fuck that. It’s bad enough the Crazies want to eat me. I ain’t freeing no assholes that want to eat me, too.”
“Hey, it was your idea.” Simon took another long pull from the whisky bottle then shook it in front of his face. “Another dead soldier.” He tossed the empty bottle out of the window and was disappointed it didn’t shatter on the pavement.
He leaned back and stared out of the window at the road ahead. “Fuck em.” He pointed back in the opposite direction. “Take us back to town. I found a place with a really comfortable bed that’s calling my name.”
Sinner leaned forward and looked through the cracked windshield. “It’s getting dark.”
“So, you better hurry.” Simon belched and gave him a crooked smile. “You don’t want to get caught in the dark when the Crazies come out to play.”
14
Hatcher was shaken awake. “What?” He instantly sat up, his feet on the floor. “What’s wrong?”
Wally whispered in his ear. “We got company. Thought maybe you should come and take a look.”
“What is it?” Hatcher asked as he pulled his boots on.
Wally shook his head. “You’d better see. I don’t think I could give this justice.”
Hatcher wiped the sleep from his eyes and glanced at his watch. It read 1:30 and he knew it must be dark as sin outside. “You gonna give me a hint?”
Wally shook his head. “You need to see. I sent another sentry to get your new bestie,
Roger.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” Hatcher grunted as he laced his boots. “I only put up with him because Candy is sweet on him.” He stood a little too quickly and had to take a moment for his head to quit spinning.
“Sorry, brother. I gotta call bull on that. You were both cops. There’s a comradery there.”
Hatcher grunted as he pushed off the desk. “I was a park ranger. It’s not the same.”
Wally fell into step with him. “You wore a badge and a gun.” He nudged Hatcher as he reached for the ladder rungs. “That makes you a cop in my book.”
“This had better be worth getting up for.” He climbed to the roof and noted the sentries were further from the parapet than usual. “What’s going on?”
Roger waved him over, his face stern. “Looks like the son of a bitch found us.”
“Simon?” Hatcher stepped closer to the edge and paused.
Scattered around the warehouse were dozens, if not hundreds of Zulus. They all simply stood, their eyes glued to the roof. Unlike every encounter they had ever had with the infected before, none were screaming.
Hatcher stepped closer, allowing his eyes to adjust to the moonlight. He watched as a single Zulu walked carefully through the crowd. Roger nudged him and motioned with his chin. “I told you about this guy.”
Hatcher squinted, his eyes focusing on the one moving infected man. He carried a length of pipe in his hand. “What the hell is this?”
“That’s the guy that I think is their leader.” Roger planted his hands on his hips and wished he had a rifle with a good scope.
“What is he doing?”
The trio watched the man step forward and lift the pipe into the air. The other Zulus seemed to defer to him. He held the pipe for a moment then began to shake it vigorously. The scream that erupted next had them all wincing, covering their ears.
All of the Zulus began to scream in unison, breaking away and running at top speed, attacking the chain link fence.
“You have got to be kidding me!” Hatcher yelled. He pointed to the sentries. “Shoot them! If they try to enter, kill ‘em dead!” He pulled his side arm and began taking shots at any that approached the fence.
Roger grabbed the rifle from the closet sentry. “Wake the others. Tell them to get armed and prepare to defend the borders!” He pushed the man toward the ladder then searched through the scope for the pipe carrying Zulu. Roger took a couple of shots at the creatures that made a break for the chain link, but he continued to search for the leader.
Another scream echoed off of the metal buildings and the Zulus seemed to freeze. They tilted their heads almost in unison then turned and made a hasty retreat, running into the shadows and between buildings.
“Are they gone?” a sentry asked.
Hatcher shook his head. “Beats me.” He turned and glared at the man. “How the hell did they all just show up unannounced like that?”
The sentry lowered his eyes then shook his head. “We heard something on the west side. We all sort of moved over that way to look.” He glanced up at Hatcher. “This whole thing with the marauder leader still being out there had us all worried.”
“And you didn’t see these guys approaching?”
The sentry shook his head. “We were only at the west side for maybe thirty seconds. A minute at most. When we came back to our stations…there they were. Just standing there and staring at us.”
Roger continued to stare over the edge. “Hatcher. Some of them are dragging off the dead.”
“Probably for a snack.” Hatcher turned back to the sentry but Roger snapped his fingers at him.
“We need to get one of those bodies.”
Hatcher and the sentry both turned and looked at him as though he were nuts. “Are you kidding me?”
Roger waved him over. “Man, look at those things.” He fired a wild shot to scatter some of the scavengers. “They practically glow in the dark they’re so pale.”
Hatcher shrugged. “So?”
Roger huffed. “So. Maybe Vic can take a look at them. Maybe they’ve changed or…evolved or something. Maybe she can spot something that we can use against them.”
Hatcher groaned and motioned to the sentry. “Radio to the staging area sentry and have them retrieve a body.” He suddenly turned back to the man. “Tell them to be extra careful. Nobody gets eaten tonight.” He turned back and frowned at Roger. “I think this is a waste of time.”
“I don’t.”
Both men turned to see Buck standing behind Hatcher.
“Why’s that, kid?”
Buck stepped forward and stared at the bodies scattered across the area. “They definitely look different. And this is rather sudden. I was up here the other afternoon and we saw one. It just looked like a homeless guy.” He pointed over the edge. “That looks like something from a B movie.”
Hatcher nodded slowly. “Fine. I’ll talk to Vic and see if she’ll take a look.” He threw his hands into the air. “It’s not like we’ve got anything else going on right now.”
“Don’t be a baby, Hatcher.” Roger called after him. “What if we’re right?”
Hatcher paused at the ladder. “If you’re right, I’ll put a gold star next to your name.”
“These late-night meetings are becoming tiresome, colonel.” President Walters sat behind his desk, dark circles under his eyes.
“I’m sorry, sir. You were booked up all day.” Colonel Vickers sat across from him, his face etched with worry.
Walters nodded. “Although the world has gone to shit, there are still leaders who are praying we can get things back to some semblance of normalcy.” He shook his head and sipped at the dark amber liquid in his glass. “Unfortunately, most of them are in different time zones.”
“Understood, sir.” Vickers nodded. “I’ve got an issue with Dr. LaRue. I’m afraid that only you can intercede.”
President Walters raised a brow. “After you spoke so highly of her, I thought the two of you would work well together.”
Vickers pursed his lips. “We had an incident.” He stood slowly and paced the small office. “In her zeal, she began to abuse certain stimulants.”
The president nodded, not really caring. “I’ve heard of a lot of academics who resort to such measures.”
“Well, this time, things almost got out of control. Luckily, I was alerted and we nipped this problem in the bud.”
The president leaned forward. “Excellent. I’m glad you stayed on top of things.” He pushed up from his chair and Colonel Vickers held his hand up, stopping him.
“I’m afraid things only went from bad to worse.”
Walters sat back down slowly. “She found something else to abuse?”
“No sir. But she…” Vickers sat back down, his hands fidgeting. “I’m sure I informed you of the researcher that became infected.”
The president nodded. “Carpenter, correct?”
“Yes, sir. Well, he was in an isolation ward. The treatment that she developed didn’t work on whatever mutated strain he had contracted.”
“That’s a shame. I’m sure we could use all of the best minds on this project.”
“That’s just it, sir. She released him and put him back to work.” The president sat up and gave him a confused stare.
“Come again?”
Vickers nodded. “My sentiment exactly, sir. She is using one of the sound generators to keep him docile. But everybody in that lab is at risk.” He stood again and began to pace. “If there is a power outage, the generator breaks down…” He spun and faced Walters, his eyes wide. “What if the virus mutates again and the frequency thing is no longer effective? We could potentially lose all of our research personnel.”
The president sat back, his concern evident. “Why didn’t you shut this shit-show down, colonel?”
Vickers nodded again. “She informed me that you had given her carte blanche over this project. That she was the one in charge and if I didn’t like it, I should come to you.”
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Vickers squirmed in his seat, feeling like a five-year-old that ran off to ‘tattle’ on somebody for breaking the rules. But this was potentially the future of the human race she was gambling with.
The president nodded slowly. “She’s right. I did.” He stood up and tossed back his drink. “But I can fix that.” He closed the lid on his laptop and stepped away from his desk. “From this moment forward, colonel…YOU are in charge of her lab and the people working in it.”
Colonel Vickers fought the urge to smile. “Thank you, sir. I’ll see to it that things are made right.”
“Good night, Colonel.”
Vickers watched the man walk to the opposite side of his office and step into his stateroom. He knew that was his invitation to leave.
He stepped out and pulled the door shut behind him. He smiled to himself as he marched down the hallway. It was time to put a certain doctor in her place.
Simon dug around in the back of the truck and pulled out another whisky bottle. He held it up to the moonlight and smiled. “The good shit.”
Sinner waited inside the house, his eyes adjusting to the near darkness. “You sure it’s clear around here?”
“I went through every house.” He stepped into the living room and waved the bottle at him. “I went shopping.”
He plopped onto the overstuffed leather sofa and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table. “I think I shall call this Chateau Simon.” He pulled the cork from the bottle with his teeth and spat it across the room. “Yeah. That has a nice ring to it.”
Sinner stood at the front windows and shook his head. “I don’t like this, man. That fence won’t keep them out if they decide to storm the place.”
Simon chuckled as he took a long pull from the expensive bottle. “We came in quiet and with no lights. They didn’t follow us.” He motioned toward the garage. “Besides, we sealed the truck in the garage. Even if they saw us, they’d have no idea what house.” He dropped his feet to the floor and leaned forward. “And I ain’t never seen a crazy that could outrun a car.”
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