Viddur glared at her. Cyrus grinned, trying to keep from laughing.
“Let’s keep any bickering to a minimum,” Dr. Shen cut Viddur off, denying him any kind of retort. “Mr. Blackthorn has made things difficult enough with his distrustful attitude, so let’s not fight amongst ourselves.”
“Yes, sir,” said Viddur, both he and Elysia proceeding down the passage.
Dr. Shen and Cyrus stepped off the stairs to follow them. The group walked on for another hundred yards, the hall dirty throughout with large dust stains occupying the majority of the once white, brick walls. Cyrus continually suppressed the urge to sneeze.
“Here we are,” said Viddur, stopping beside an unremarkable wooden door in the middle of the passageway.
“Give us a second, Viddur.” Dr. Shen stopped him, paying his words little heed. ”There’s no reason to rush in. We don’t want to startle Mr. Blackthorn if we can help it.” The doctor moved past those gathered, directing Viddur away from the door while wrapping his hand around the handle. “Mr. Blackthorn.” Shen failed to conceal the anxiety in his eyes. “Try not to be too alarmed by what is behind this door. We do not need you to become overly excited as it will be hazardous to the health of everyone here, yourself included.”
“Understood.” Cyrus tried not to sound anxious, but a cold sweat suddenly appeared on his palms.
“Very well.” Shen braced himself against the door. “Here we go.”
The doctor pushed through the door with a considerable amount of force. He continued through the entryway and into the next room, propping it open before making a move for the lights. A powerful smell floated out of the room, so horrendous Cyrus felt it could nearly raise the dead.
The shrieks and cries of what sounded like a highly disturbed man echoed throughout the passageway, this a reaction to the doctor’s sudden entrance into the room.
“Come in!” Shen yelled back at them. “Don’t worry! He won’t do anything to you! We have him in a cell!”
“Here we go again,” said Viddur, oblivious to all the noise as he shuffled through the doorway, strangely bored by what was going on. Elysia followed him, possessed by the same lackadaisical attitude, leaving Cyrus alone in the passageway.
“Come in, Mr. Blackthorn!” Dr. Shen yelled out once again. “Everything is perfectly safe! He cannot harm you!”
Cyrus moaned, finally following them through the door, his eyes watering from the strength of the smell.
The screams greeted him as he entered.
“What the heck, doctor?” Cyrus jumped to the side as an extraordinarily disheveled and bewildered man in tattered clothing reached for him through the bars of his cell.
In addition to his crazed behavior, there was something very wrong with his appearance. His eyes were an unnatural, sickly yellow, bulging from his head; his skin ashen, yet tinted green, like a corpse that had begun to decompose.
“You’re keeping one of them down here?” Cyrus continued to react. “What’s the matter with you?”
The man in the cell suddenly stopped shrieking, raising his head to take a quick whiff of the stale, musty air. His eyes widened as he glared at Cyrus, full of what looked like recognition.
The man screamed one final time before retreating to the opposite side of his cell, tripping over his own feet as he went, landing in the corner face down. He remained there, shaking and occasionally looking back at Cyrus, reacting with a terrified whimper each time.
As his heart rate slackened, Cyrus saw the room extended back past the lit area. The decor was bare and dirty, reminiscent of a medieval dungeon, though few would give much thought to how things looked. The stench in the room overpowered all else. The mixture of the man’s filth and excrement could knock a person down.
Repulsed though he was, Cyrus took a sniff of the air, finding another scent buried underneath the others: the smell of spoiled meat, savory yet pungent with the odor of growing microbes. He licked his lips, finding the smell strangely appetizing.
“This man has zombie-ism, Mr. Blackthorn.”
Shen stood off to the side of the cell, not at all perturbed by the crazed man.
“As I said earlier, this condition is caused by a variant of the same virus responsible for vampirism. As for holding an infected individual, it’s a difficult situation to avoid. Moreover, it’s impossible to perform any research without any live specimen to study.”
“You’re a scientist , for crying out loud!” Cyrus shouted, riled up anew, disregarding what Dr. Shen told him earlier. Seeing was much different from merely hearing.
Cyrus gazed toward the opposite wall, finding Elysia and Viddur standing off near the empty cells. He shot them both a pleading look, looking to garner support for his argument and finding none.
“You don't actually believe this man is a zombie, just like from the movies? You told me they were just sick people.” Cyrus was over his initial scare and took a closer look at the deranged man. Though he looked like a sickening wreck, Cyrus felt there could be other explanations for his appearance.
“I hope I didn’t waste my time explaining the disorder only to have you spontaneously forget everything I told you, Mr. Blackthorn.” Shen’s voice was flat. “The zombie virus is not unlike rabies, except instead of merely causing inflammation of the brain, it degrades and even reorganizes brain cells, eventually reducing the infected to an animalistic state.” He indicated toward the man in the cell.
“I haven’t forgotten what you told me.” Cyrus matched Shen’s tone. “It’s just this… It’s all still a little hard to believe, even after seeing somebody like this.” He looked over at the man in the cell, finding him sitting in the corner, watching him with unhealthy yellow eyes.
“Do you know why he’s acting like that?” Cyrus frowned back at Dr. Shen. The answer he wanted suddenly entered his mind. “He acts like he’s afraid.”
“It certainly appears that way, Mr. Blackthorn.”
“Do you know why?”
“I can’t say for sure,” Shen paused to think. “It may have something to do with the way you smell.”
“What do you mean ‘the way I smell’?” Cyrus was confused, unsure if he was being intentionally insulted. “I know I haven’t bathed since the procedure, but…” he started toward the doctor.
“It has everything to do with the virus’s method of action, Mr. Blackthorn.” Shen failed to read Cyrus’s reaction. “As the infection progresses and damages the brain, it begins to affect the senses, some more than others. The vision is reduced, the hearing is typically unchanged, and olfaction actually increases. In addition to this, the infected individual has a greatly reduced ability to perceive certain stimuli like temperature and pain. Anyway, with the increase in their olfaction capacity comes the additional ability to smell other individuals like themselves. It makes them capable of recognizing other infected individuals, so they don’t attack each other. Given how his behavior changed the moment you entered, it seems he has the ability to recognize other genetically modified organisms such as yourself. As you also smell unfamiliar to him, it is only natural he react with fear.”
“Hmm… That’s very interesting.” Cyrus felt the doctor had somehow missed something.
He moved over to the opposite wall where Elysia stood, finding she displayed a similar look of confusion.
“Do you really feed him human flesh?” his tone went cold.
“That we do,” replied the doctor, speaking as though he could be talking about the weather.
”And there is nothing else you can give him?”
“We’ve tried to give them other things in the past, but it always caused vomiting.” Shen shook his head as he looked over the man in the cell. “Multiple tests have been performed, and it seems that they're just not capable of metabolizing anything else. They are obligate cannibals in every sense. Human flesh is quite easy for us to obtain. We just take it from cadavers. There is no need to become too excited, Mr. Blackthorn.”
“So there hav
e been others?” Cyrus was genuinely curious, though confident he wouldn’t care for most of Shen’s answers. He would try to remain calm.
“Yes, there have indeed.”
“What happened to them?”
“We euthanized them. We didn't have a choice. The condition is not reversible.”
“You couldn't treat them with nanobots?” Cyrus asked, frustrated by the loss of life. He knew there was nothing to do for it, but he felt it all the same.
“We have tried, but without success, as you can see. We have seen some results, but they are always limited. We have been able to restore a very slight amount of brain function, though nowhere near enough to bring them back to where they were. The human brain is just too complicated and elegant an organ to recreate with nanobots. There are just too many neural connections to replicate.”
“Do you think the condition causes them any pain?” Cyrus continued, a certain idea popping into his head.
“They experience little pain, well that is, other than what they unintentionally inflict upon themselves.”
“And the infection is deadly one hundred percent of the time?”
“ One hundred percent of the time.”
“How long does it usually take for the infection to kill them?”
“Days, months, maybe years,” said Shen, considering each. “It varies considerably. Believe me, his mind is too far gone to comprehend his condition.” He found the angle Cyrus was trying to play.
The man in the corner let out a howl like a wounded animal and darted back toward them, sticking both arms between the steel bars to grasp for Shen with his dirty, clawed fingers. Whatever fear he felt earlier wholly disappeared for the moment.
“Huh, must be hungry.” Dr. Shen turned to find Viddur standing at his immediate right, both unperturbed by the zombie man’s sudden outburst. “Viddur, would you feed him, please?”
“Yes, sir,” said Viddur. He walked past the doctor into the darkness at the other side of the room, entirely disappearing from view.
Cyrus glanced over to where Elysia was standing, finding she had moved to a corner of the room farthest from Shen, likely to avoid the chore of feeding the specimen.
Viddur re-emerged moments later, carrying a heavy bucket.
Cyrus did not attempt to see what it contained, as he didn’t want to know what filled it.
Viddur shoved the zombie meal through a slot at the bottom of the man’s cell with a booted foot. The man immediately lunged for his meal, shoving his head into the bucket as he began to devour its contents.
“Omm… Omm… Omm…” The man gnawed and smacked his lips as he ate. He took part of an intestine in both hands and tearing into it like a gluttonous child, wolfing it down like an uncooked hot dog. Dark red blood and an unidentifiable black fluid dripped from the man’s chin as he bit off a piece and immediately swallowed it.
Elysia moaned and faced the wall, disgusted by the way the man ate. “It’s always so gross. I can’t watch.”
“What plans do you have for this specific specimen?” asked Cyrus, eager for any reason to look away from the man, feeling he might vomit.
Shen and Viddur looked bored by the zombie’s method of feeding.
“If all of your attempts to cure zombie-ism have failed, wouldn’t it be better to euthanize him instead of leaving him down here like this?”
“As I said before, we are currently still performing research,” said Shen, a weary grin on his face. “We still seek both to create a vaccine to prevent the condition and to find a cure for those who have already developed the disease. This requires us to care for and monitor live specimens for a period of time. As of the moment, we are far from accomplishing our goals, but we will keep trying until we have it right. This man has lived longer than any other specimen after receiving our current version of the vaccine. We are still holding him for observation.”
“Do you work to create the vaccine as well?” asked Cyrus.
“No, that’s Dr. Gupta’s department.” The doctor suddenly became excited for no apparent reason. “If you like, we can show you to her lab.”
* * *
“Here we are,” said Dr. Shen, pushing down on the door handle as it refused to budge. Undeterred, he knocked on the door, impatiently tapping his foot as he waited for someone to open it.
The doctor had taken their group less than one hundred feet away from the zombie holding cells, leading them to the end of the crypt-like hallway to stand beside a white, very sterile-looking door. Its appearance greatly contrasted with the surrounding filth.
Dr. Shen knocked on the door several more times; his persistence rewarded moments later as the door handle began to turn.
“Oh, hello, Daniel,” said Dr. Gupta, speaking with a barely detectable Indian accent. She held the door partially open, peering up through the crack at Dr. Shen. “What can I do for you?” She kept her voice calm and cheerful, sounding as though she genuinely wanted to help.
“Well, I have a unique and unexpected problem,” said Shen.
“And what is that?”
“I have a naysayer with me who is somewhat disinclined to believe anything I tell him,” Shen explained. “His skepticism is admirable, possibly surpassing any scientist I’ve ever worked with. He needs additional concrete evidence before he comes to a final conclusion.”
“Well, excuse me.” Cyrus frowned and shook his head, somewhat exasperated. “A lot of what you said before we came down here sounds like nonsense now that I think about it, even with all the things you’ve shown me. I don’t see anything wrong with being thorough, especially in this case. Well, that and I wanted to see the lab.” He grinned, uneasy.
“Well, if you want to take a closer look at one of the infected, then you are in luck.” Gupta nodded toward him.
She unlatched the door, opening it wide so the four of them could pass through.
“We are performing autopsies right now.”
Dr. Gupta was middle-aged and very small, a head shorter than Dr. Shen. She wore a lab coat and long, purple, nitrile gloves. Her face shield and mask further concealed her tan skin and face.
“Oh.” Gupta jumped a little when she looked at Cyrus, startled by his cat-like eyes.
“Don’t we probably need to put on some kind of protection before we enter a room full of zombie contagions?” asked Cyrus. He stared at Dr. Gupta’s face shield and mask, determined not to be offended by her reaction.
He suddenly felt a strange tingling sensation around his gum line, immediately writing it off as nothing, odd though it was.
“Not that I can think of,” said Dr. Gupta, quickly recovered from her surprise. “I’m sure Dr. Shen has already told you that the virus is not spread through the air, so there’s no need to wear a mask. I’m just wearing the shield to protect my eyes from splatter and the mask to deal with the smell. I doubt you will be in here long enough to necessitate wearing either. You might want to put on gloves if you intend to touch anything. Right this way, please.”
Dr. Gupta turned from where she held their group near the door and led them further into the room. The white light was nearly as blinding as it was in Cyrus’s room.
As his eyes adjusted to the light, Cyrus saw that the room was essentially a morgue, clean and sterilized, filled with body vaults and medical examination tables. On nearly every table rested an ashen-skinned zombie cadaver, each in a different state of dissection, most of which was heavily focused on the head. Most had their brains removed from their skull cavities, and several more brains rested on medical examination trays. Many other specimens remained whole as the members of Gupta’s laboratory staff stood scattered about the room, intensely involved with dissecting the corpses.
The scientists remained focused on their work, ignoring the group that entered. The overall effect reminded Cyrus of an automotive chop shop, full of partially deconstructed bodies instead of cars.
“OK, I think we will need the masks, Dr. Gupta,” said Elysia. She cupped her hands over
her nose and mouth, finding the smell in the room extremely off-putting.
Viddur and Dr. Shen did likewise.
Cyrus admitted the stench had a certain penetrative quality, stabbing at the eyes, wafting up the nose in such a way it poked at the brain. But, just as with the man in the cell, he found the scent oddly appealing.
“Oh, come on, is it that bad?” asked Dr. Gupta, a good-natured smirk on her face.
“I would say it is,” said Viddur, gasping for breath.
“Very well, the box with the masks is over there.” Gupta pointed toward the box hanging on the wall near the door.
“Thanks, doctor,” said Shen just before bolting for the box, beaten to it by Elysia and Viddur.
Nasal protection secured to their faces, the trio returned to where Cyrus and Dr. Gupta stood to wait.
“This way.” Dr. Gupta led them toward a table near the far corner of the large room.
“What’s with all the bodies?” asked Cyrus as they walked. “I thought there would be only a few infected individuals, but this is a little excessive. It makes it look like we’re right in the middle of a zombie crisis.”
“That is because we are wrapping up the most recent trial of the latest version of our zombie-ism vaccine,” Dr. Gupta shook her head as she stopped to speak, staring down at the floor with regret. “I will admit it was very effective, just not it in the way we would like. It relieved nearly all of our specimens of their suffering, killing all but a single man in only days. It is back to the drawing board once again.”
“That is unfortunate.” Dr. Shen gave Gupta a forgiving look. “I’m sure you will have a working vaccine for us very soon.”
“I can only hope.” Gupta gave him a beleaguered smile. “Come on, the specimen I want to show you is over here.” She waved their group onward, taking them to an examination table near the back of the room, a partially covered, shaven male corpse resting upon it. “Here we are.” Gupta stood beside the table where the man’s head rested as the others in the group gathered around. “Just give me a second to open up his skull and pull the brain out of the cranial vault.”
Fall Prey: The Hunt Page 16