Level Six

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Level Six Page 5

by Dean, Jane


  It began to ring again and Ursa swiped the screen to answer. “Callum?” she asked.

  “Ursa!” Callum said over the speaker. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m safe,” she said.

  "I was running and turned back to find you but people were going berserk and running everywhere. I've never seen so much blood." Ursa could hear Callum breathing heavily.

  "I'm with some friends right now." Ursa looked over toward Marshall, Tod and Melissa sitting around the table in the dark kitchen. "Callum, I'll find you." At that Marshall's head shook and he looked at her with what she could tell was a ‘How the hell are you going to do that?’ look. "Can you see where you are? Do you see any street signs?"

  "Yes. I'm behind the expo building. It's awful. People are ripping each other apart."

  "Marshall." Ursa looked over Melissa's head. "We have to go back for Callum. He's not going to make it,” she pleaded.

  "There is no way we can get back there. It's too dangerous. He'll have to try to get to us and he'll have to do it fast because we can't stay here long. We'll all end up dead."

  "Callum. You're going to have to try to get to us. Marshall,” she handed Marshall the phone. "You know where he is. You can get him here." She saw his jaw tighten and he banged his head back softly against the wall. "Marshall, please," she said.

  Marshall grabbed the phone out of her hand. "Hi Callum. It's Marshall. Where are you?" He paused to listen for a moment. "Okay. I know where that is. Ursa says you're a runner. Let's hope you're fast."

  * * *

  Ursa moved the curtains aside slowly to not draw attention to herself in the window. "I don't think we can wait too long for him." Marshall spoke from his position on the floor. "If he's not here by first light, Tod and I going to have to leave. You can come with us or stay here and wait."

  "He'll be here." Ursa walked to the back door to look outside. It was too dark to see anything. She dropped the curtain back in place and sat heavily on the floor. The kitchen looked messy and bare. There was only a small table with mismatched chairs sitting around it. She assumed two bachelors didn't think it was important to cook in a kitchen.

  Tod leaned up against the wall and listened to the biters pace back and forth outside the front door of the house. “I was supposed to meet up with the guys at the pub today,” he said.

  "Yeah. I don't think that's going to happen." Marshall looked in the direction Tod was staring. "Snap out of it Tod. We've got to start planning."

  "Maybe this is how it's supposed to end." Tod closed his eyes.

  "Well not for me, so let's use that brain from Oxford and come up with something. We can't sit here and wait to die,” Marshall said.

  “We'll get taken out by one of those things when we try to get food. We can't scavenge food forever,” Tod said.

  “I agree.” Marshall jumped up and went to the front closet. Ursa heard him rummaging through things and watch him pull out a large backpack. “I say we try to make get clear of the hordes and take our chances out there,” he said pointing out the window. Ursa could see the shadows of staggering biters moving across the curtain.

  "Are you kidding me?" Tod sat up. "Have you looked out the window lately? There's no way we can make it all the way to the country let alone fifty feet out the freaking front door."

  "We don't know what's out there. We've got to try. There could be shelters set up."

  "Maybe we should sit tight then. It might blow over and we'll be rescued." Tod opened his arms wide and smiled.

  "Shut up and get serious. That may never happen. We're sitting ducks here. Starving and stranded." Marshall replied.

  "I might as well put a target on my back and run down the street screaming come and get it."

  "Quiet down man, you'll bring them over." Marshall sat at the table again with his back against the wall.

  "What's your plan Marshall?" Ursa asked. “There's about 500 miles of burbs, forests and farms between here and the states. Maybe we should think this through. Even if we made it out of the city. We don't have any guns. My dad might be able to help us if the cell reception improves."

  "He might be a biter now too. Who knows, we could be the last of humanity." Tod said.

  "Shut up Tod,” Marshall said. “Our options are to stay put or find a better position and a way to contact Ursa's dad," Marshall said.

  "I agree with Marshall." Ursa looked at Tod. "There isn't enough food here and it's too dangerous to break into homes looking for more. We can't stay here forever. We should keep moving and either try to find other people or a better outpost."

  "I just watched a guy get eaten alive. I'm not going out like that,” Tod said.

  "What about making our way toward my father's position? There're grocery stores with stock piles of food and supplies between here and Washington. We could arm ourselves, set up camps along the way and work our way out of the country by foot and cars we can find."

  Ursa heard a thump against the outside patio door and glanced behind her to see a biter walking repeatedly into the glass not aware that the passage was blocked. The woman was blond with half her face missing. Ursa knew the woman hadn't seen them or she'd be moaning and clawing against the glass. They didn't move and kept still until she glanced off the door and continued into the backyard.

  "Let's decide as a group. We have a better chance with more of us,” Ursa whispered.

  Tod looked down and shook his head. "We're only as fast as our slowest man. You and Ursa would be fine. Actually," Tod laughed, "you'd have a better chance with us along because the fuckers would take us down and buy you some time."

  "Tod, get a grip. We're going to die here. You're supposed to have the genius IQ. Think!" Marshall said.

  "Well we're going to die out there. So I think we can all agree that we're fucked,” Tod said.

  "Look. If we work together we can get out of this. I'm sure the government's trying to do something. Trying to save people. There could be hope."

  "Don't kid yourself. They saved themselves Ursa." Tod looked angrily at her. "They took off and are sitting in a comfy bunker eating pizza and not worrying about anything."

  "We're going,” Marshall said. "We're all going together."

  They were all quiet for a moment. "Okay. If we’re going I want to last more than five minutes. We could find an island and live there until this blows over,” Tod said. Ursa couldn't tell if he was being serious this time.

  "An island. An island would be safe,” said Marshall.

  "We need to get away from crowds, find enough food and try to contact survivors or the government,” Tod said.

  "Good. How do we do that?" Marshall asked. "Tell me you haven't smoked your brains out Tod we need more."

  "Where would I go?" Tod mused. "I would find a place with a lot of food and stay there until those things rotted into the ground. How long do ligaments last?" his voice drifted off as he stared out the window.

  "Come back to us Tod,” Marshall said. "Maybe they have regenerative properties. We don't know much about them yet, but definitely shelter with food and water until we can come up with a better idea."

  "I think the best chance of survival, and get down the coast into the US, is on a boat. There could be coast guards out there to help. If they've changed too they'd be in no shape to chase us anyway."

  "We must be close to a marina,” Ursa said. "I bet there're a lot of boats free for the taking. We could stock it with supplies and get away. Wait. Where do you think Callum is now? Could he be close? I don't want to leave without him." Ursa studied an old map Marshall had pulled out of a drawer, studied the downtown area and envisioned Callum running from alley to alley to avoid being attacked.

  "If he followed my instructions, he should be at Vanier Park by now,” Marshall said.

  "That's only a couple miles from where we are,” Tod said. "He’ll be here soon then." Tod and Marshall looked at each other.

  "We'll give him day break. That's an hour from now. That should give him time
to get here and us time to pack as much food and supplies as we can."

  "We don't have much but we can take a look,” Tod said.

  "What if we can't find a boat? And who's going to drive it if we do?" Ursa asked.

  "Tod's dad had a lot of toys."

  "I can drive it, sail it, race it, you name it,” Tod said. "Had lessons as a kid. I even learned how to hot wire but that was before University." Tod was starting to look a lot more optimistic. A shadow fell across the floor in front of them. Something had stepped close to the window blocking the street light outside. Ursa pressed her hand over her mouth as she looked at the shadow of a biter. The woman was in her 20's, definitely dead and was moving slowly across the porch.

  "Oh shit. That's Britt. We met like a week ago,” Tod said. The woman was covered in blood and skin was missing on her upper arm.

  "Shh. I don't think she sees us." Marshall started to move slowly. The woman stopped her shuffle and turned her head up as if trying to hear something. Footsteps sounded behind her and another biter stepped onto the porch. The three stood motionless on in the hall.

  "I don't think she sees us but I think they can smell us." Ursa didn’t know how she was able to do it but she could tell the two dead Walkers apart by their smell.

  "What do we do?" asked Tod.

  "Stay still" said Ursa. "They can't get in -- not two of them but if we stir them up they might attract more and then we could be in trouble." Ursa could hear a chair scraping in the kitchen behind them. They all tensed. Ursa realized that Melissa was going to walk into the room and give away their position. "Melissa,” she whispered. "Sweetie. Don't come in here right now." The girl paused and then continued into the room. Ursa stood up slowly to reach the girl before she drew attention. The women outside the window turned and stared at Ursa. The looked at each other for a moment before the dead woman tried to scratch through the window groaning and clawing. Brown blood streaked the glass. The group walked back into the kitchen as the other biter began to claw the window as well. The glass shook with the pressure of both of them.

  "We don't have much time,” Ursa said. "I can smell more of them coming this way."

  "What do you mean you can smell them?" Tod asked.

  "I can't explain. We should grab as much as we can and get to the marina if that's our plan."

  "It is,” Tod said. "I think it's our only hope."

  Marshall grabbed the backpack and threw in the small amount of food from the cupboard and fridge, knives “Thrown in what you can find,” he said to Tod.

  "Do you have any guns?" Ursa asked.

  "This is Canada lady. No, I don't have any guns and you're not going to find any nearby,” Tod said. He had a backpack now as well and threw in a flashlight, can opener and cans of food.

  Marshall slung his pack over a shoulder. "Okay. I think we're as ready as we're going to get."

  "What about Callum?" Ursa said. Marshall grabbed her phone as she turned it on.

  "We don't have time for that," Marshall said.

  Ursa grabbed the phone back. "I'll make time. I should try calling Dad again too. I'm not going to have him show up to a house crawling with angry biters."

  "He'll never make it Ursa. You have to think of yourself now,” Marshall said.

  "I decide who I think about,” she said.

  "Well we're leaving. You keep up or you don't." Marshall opened the back door and stepped out.

  "Don't worry. I'll keep up,” Ursa said.

  Ursa grabbed Melissa and threw her up on her back. "Hang on tight honey. I might need my hands free and you're going to have to close your eyes and hang on." Melissa buried her face in Ursa's hair.

  SEVEN

  Mayor Lynton had been sitting in the glassed in conference room for an hour. She used one of the plugs in built into the large conference table to charge her smart phone. If she hadn’t ridden an elevator down a mine shaft and then followed a military officer down another few flights of stairs, she would have guess she was sitting in a modern office tower. Eight she thought to herself. She focused on the small number to draw together her thoughts. Her mind had been turning into thousands of strings that were flying around and becoming tangled. Eight were the number of stories she assumed the elevator had travelled down. She took a slow deep breath and let the breath go. She looked around again at another room adjoining this one. Four rows of large computer monitors 16 computers in each row she counted. Each monitor was occupied. Men and women typed and spoke on headsets, jumped up from their station, then returned and continued typing and talking.

  She let the tension in her shoulders relax. She looked down at her blood smeared blazer. There were eight buttons down the front of the jacket and she undid them to let the air conditioned breeze coming from the vents able them cool her off. She jigged her leg quietly and quickly. Counting the movements. Occasionally her knee hit the table.

  The number of people being led into the conference room was growing. She estimated that the room could hold more than 240 as she glanced around and counted the chairs. She was one of the first to arrive and was glad of a spot at the enormous table. As if the table gave some protection. A large man sat heavily across from her, put his head in his hands and sobbed. She stared at him for a moment then continued to watch the activity in the war room. Why did I know about this place? She wondered. If anyone should have been aware that this existed, it should have been me.

  "Mayor." A man appeared next to her right held out his hand. "I'm glad to see you're okay." She looked up into the face of her friend. The usually smile was missing but she knew he was glad to see her.

  She had to speak loudly to be heard over the talking and yelling in the now crowded conference room. "John. I was afraid I wouldn’t see a familiar face again. It’s good to see you." She ignored the red stains across his blue tie and gave him a quick hug before he sat down next to her.

  "This isn't our usual monthly lunch at Cafe Brie but I hear they serve a good brunch here on Sunday." he said smiling wryly. He pulled his chair up to the table and leaned closer to her. She noticed that he hadn’t stopped in his assigned apartment to look in the mirror. His hair stood at different angles from his head. He straightened his jacket and looked around the room as she’d just finished doing. "Do you recognize any of these people?" he asked.

  "A few,” she said. “The room was mostly military at first and now it looks like they’ve collected scientists and possibly analysts. They look the type,” she nodded over to small groups of men and women shuffling papers and in discussions. “We're all going to get to know each other very well soon enough,” she said. She shifted around now to face him. "John, I didn't know that this compound existed. How can something this large remain hidden? Were you aware of this?"

  "I'll be honest with you.” He removed his jacket and lay in over the back of his chair. “I've known about this place for about five years now. It's was built in the 50s and after 9/11 it was completely upgraded.”

  “This was upgraded right under my nose and you didn’t tell me?”

  “I couldn’t tell you. My hands were tied. There are wire tapes and bugs everywhere. I could have put the entire operation in jeopardy.”

  “So why here of all places, in the middle of Yakima?” she asked.

  “You might be looking at the new capital of the United States,” he said holding up his hands and looking around. “Terrorists can’t destroy what they don’t know exists and no one would suspect we’d put a base out here.”

  “I’d have to agree with you there. I wouldn’t never have entered my mind,” she said.

  “This is a federal operation. I can tell you now that there are things going on in here that higher levels of the government didn’t want you or anyone to know about."

  “I thought I knew everything going on in my town. At least they felt they needed me,” she said.

  “Actually,” John said. “I told them to get you.”

  She looked down at the table and scratched head to hide the
blood that rose into her cheeks. The realization that she wasn’t important enough to be saved without a special request from her friend caused a vein to throb at her temple.

  John crossed his arms and sat back looking around. “The feds didn't spare any expense with this place.” She watched him close his eyes as if the light was painful.

  "I'm disappointed,” she said. “I could have been trusted. I should have been made aware of this.” She let her voice trail off and realized that her need for control seemed juvenile at the moment. She looked up at the light source above her head. “Explain to me what you know is happening right now.” Her hand shook as she brushed her hair back from her face. "I watched most of my staff turn and tear each other apart. I need some information.”

  “I was told,” John began, he continued to keep his eyes closed as he spoke, “and it was reported to us by a reliable source that a vial of a virus was stolen. Not any virus but a mutated strain of Ebola. Something should never have been kept. My intelligence said that it could have been missing for weeks before it anyone noticed. The laboratory actually didn’t know if I had been destroyed or stolen. We’ve been on high alert since trying not to alarm the public and hoping to track it down before it was used.”

  “Who stole it? Why would someone want to steal a virus?” she asked.

  “Believe it or not, deadly viruses go missing from high security labs more than you know. Not just here but all around the world. The last one before this incident was in Paris.” He opened his eyes slightly to look at her and glance around the now capacity room. “There was a case where cult members from Japan tried to get hold of a virus sample. They actually flew to Zaire and pretended to offer medical aid to Ebola victims.”

  “Terrorism? Biological warfare?” she asked.

  “It could be,” he said. “If the virus was released at key points around the world. It would be impossible to contain the effects.”

 

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