The door gave way to a small living room. A tattered couch was to the left against the wall with the window above it. Against the far wall was a cheap entertainment center with a television on top of it. To the left was a narrow hallway that probably led to a bedroom. An archway to the right of the entertainment center opened into a dated kitchen with a linoleum floor. A partially open closet was to the right. Looking in, the Doctor noticed a few lightweight jackets and a pair of work boots on the floor. A well-worn rug covered the entire living room. Standing near the hallway was one of Gunner’s men; another was in front of the archway.
Gunner and the third man were standing next to the most striking feature of the room; the corpse lying face down in the middle of it with a large kitchen knife protruding out from the back of its skull. There was a fair amount of dried blood on the rug as well as the small coffee table next to it. The thing that Dr. Sanderson found most interesting was the color of the blood. It was a mixture of black and deep red.
“Don’t be alarmed Doctor, it’s dead,” Gunner said. “Is this one of your test subjects?”
The Doctor looked more closely at the figure in the middle of the room. It was wearing hospital scrubs similar to those issued by the Doctor and his staff in Florida. He could not be sure though until it was turned face up. He slid the back pack off of his shoulder and unzipped it. He removed the folders containing all the pertinent data on each test subject.
“Could he … be turned over?” asked the Doctor.
“Tur den personen over,” Gunner instructed his men.
They moved quickly to the corpse and removed the large knife from the back of its head. As one grabbed its legs and the other its shoulders, they flipped it on its back. The face was distorted with decay and filth. Much of the lower jaw was missing and the eye sockets had receded into the bone. Identification would be difficult. The Doctor was confident it was not Number 5 but he wanted to make certain it was one of his test subjects so he could eliminate it from his list. The photographs were little help but based on probable age and gender, he narrowed it down to three possible candidates.
“I don’t believe it is Number 5,” he admitted to the group, “but we should be sure.”
“How do we do that?” asked Gunner.
“We could remove the microchip from the back of its neck,” the Doctor answered pointing to a spot behind the right ear at the base of the skull. “I have all the serial numbers on file and could positively identify it that way.”
Gunner instructed the third man in the room to do just that. The man bent down and opened the bag containing the restraining equipment, pulling out a knife with a six inch blade and a pair of latex gloves. Leaning over the corpse, he put the gloves on and inserted the knife where the Doctor had indicated and began to root around. He removed bits of flesh and rubbed it between his fingers looking for the small plastic microchip. After the third try he held a small piece of plastic between his thumb and forefinger. Cleaning it off with a rag he pulled out of the bag, he deposited the chip in a small candy dish that was conveniently left on the coffee table and handed it to Dr. Sanderson.
The Doctor used a pair of tweezers he had brought with him to bring the chip closer and squinted at it. He could not read the numbers on it, they were too small. Absentmindedly, he moved past Gunner’s man and into the kitchen. He began opening cabinet drawers. He finally found the drawer he was looking for; the junk drawer that every house has. Rummaging through, he removed the item he was searching for; a fold out magnifying glass. He opened it up and trained the glass on the chip. Looking through the lens, the numbers were now easy to read. The Doctor memorized the number sequence and then turned to his sheet containing all the numbers corresponding to the test subjects. There it was, test subject number seven, Michael Lembeck. As he suspected, not Number 5. The Doctor turned to see Gunner, taking up most of the available space in the archway, looking at him.
“Is this our subject?” he asked.
“No, I’m afraid not. He’s one of mine, but not Number 5.”
The Doctor turned to put the magnifying glass back in the drawer but decided he should keep it in case he needed it again. It was at that moment that he noticed two things. First, there was a wooden butcher’s block on the kitchen counter with an empty slot where the largest knife would be. This discovery simply answered the question of where the knife sticking out of the zombie’s skull had come from. Second, and much more alarming, was the strange noise coming from behind the door at the far end of the kitchen.
Gunner had heard it also and moved into the kitchen along with his three men. The door, Dr. Sanderson surmised, could open into a moderately sized pantry or it could lead into a basement. It had two sliding bolt locks on the kitchen side of the door; one near the handle and one up top. The noise was a scraping sound that quickly escalated into a banging. Gunner had one of his men squat down and peek under the door. He was able to see movement but it was impossible to make out whom or what was making the noise.
“If you can hear me, please answer me,” the Doctor said.
He waited a second for a response. He then repeated his request; still no answer. The banging began to intensify. It now sounded like there could be several things trying to get out. The problem was they simply could not tell. If they opened the door and a bunch of infected poured out, it may be difficult to fight them off given the tight quarters. And since they were not answering, one had to assume the worst.
The Doctor looked at Gunner and it was clear he had reached the same conclusion. The risk of opening that door outweighed the reward.
Gunner instructed his men to exit the building. They all filed out the front door and out into the front yard. The fourth man who had remained outside was right where they left him.
“Alla tecken av problem,” Gunner asked his man outside.
“Nej,” he answered.
“Back to the plane,” Gunner ordered. That was just fine with the Doctor.
They headed back the way they came and in the same formation. As they passed the old mill a second time, they noticed several zombies on the grounds that were not there before. Gunner ordered his men to eliminate them, which they did in usual efficient fashion.
Moving now with more urgency, they retraced their steps along Phillips Cemetery Road. As they neared the airport, Gunner removed the walkie from his belt and pressed the button. Speaking into it he said, “Captain, come in Captain.”
“This is Bannon, go ahead.”
“Captain, we are about five minutes out, no additional passengers, are we clear to come aboard, over.”
“All clear, I am right where you left me. Will be ready when you arrive, over.”
“Copy that, over and out,” Gunner finished and put the walkie back on his belt.
Five minutes later they were on the edge of the tarmac. Gunner did a quick visual sweep of the area and confirmed the Captain’s assessment; no zombies in sight.
As they approached the plane, Captain Bannon lowered the stairs. Gunner’s men removed their body armor and replaced everything they had taken from the cargo hold.
Once everyone was back on board, the Captain closed the hatch and sealed the door.
He looked at the Doctor and said, “Where to now?”
“Um, I guess we continue on to Florida … unless we get another hit,” the Doctor answered.
“You got it,” Captain Bannon said as he spun around and headed toward the cockpit. “Buckle up; we’ll be airborne in five.”
Dr. Sanderson put his knapsack down on the couch next to him and strapped himself in. As the Gulfstream began making its way to the runway, the Doctor suddenly realized how truly exhausted he was. The little adventure they just had was draining; both physically and mentally. He was not sure he was up to having to repeat it perhaps nine more times. The only problem was he did not have a choice.
Chapter 17
Hit and Run
Dr. Sanderson was attempting to eavesdrop on the conversation Gunner
was having with Benton. He had resumed his position at the conference table once Captain Bannon had the Gulfstream in the air. Gunner was standing in the galley speaking quietly into a satellite phone. As he strained his neck to get a better angle, Dr. Sanderson finally was able to make out a few words. Unfortunately, those words were spoken in the language the Doctor now recognized as Swedish. Realizing he was not going to understand anything that was said, he turned his attention back to the folders containing information on the nine remaining test subjects.
He decided that reacquainting himself with the pertinent details of his former patients would be useful. In the future, they may not have as much time as they had in the house to determine the infected person’s identity. Quick and decisive action may be necessary.
Gunner returned to the main cabin after finishing his conversation with Benton. Along with the satellite phone, Gunner had a tuna sandwich and a bottle of water with him. He put the food on the table across from Dr. Sanderson and then headed toward his men. After saying something in Swedish, he returned to the table.
“Hungry Doctor?” he said.
“Yea, I could eat I guess,” replied the Doctor.
“Help yourself, the galley is well stocked.”
Dr. Sanderson was about to get up when he was nearly knocked over by Gunner’s men as they passed by him heading to the back of the plane.
“On second thought, I’ll grab something in a minute,” the Doctor said.
After dining on a grilled chicken breast sandwich and a Sprite, Dr. Sanderson looked out of the window and noticed it was getting to be late afternoon. They had left mid-morning from Colorado but after their stop in Arkansas, and the fact they were heading east, daylight was slowly slipping away. There was, however, several hours of sunshine left as they were nearing Florida’s western coastline. They still had some time left in the day.
The Doctor had become acutely aware of how the definition of time had been altered. There were no schedules to keep, no clocks to punch, no soccer matches to bring the kids to. In his mind, the only thing that really mattered about time was that it was running out.
Gunner had returned to the couch and sat there with his head leaning back and his eyes closed. His PDA was on his lap and Dr. Sanderson had a feeling that even in this relaxed state, Gunner missed nothing. He put the folders back in his knapsack and zipped it back up. Maybe he would try to follow Gunner’s lead and grab a few minutes of shut eye. They would likely be receiving another signal soon.
Just as the Doctor had drifted off he was awakened by Gunner standing over him holding his PDA. “We have two separate signals very near each other Doctor.”
This time the Doctor accompanied Gunner up front and stood in the doorway of the cockpit. Captain Bannon entered the coordinates provided by Gunner into the Gulfstream’s computer.
“Miami,” the Captain said, “roughly three miles southeast of Miami International. We can land there. Mr. Worthington has a private hanger complete with a fuel truck and ground transportation. That is, of course, if it hasn’t been compromised.”
“ETA Captain?” Gunner asked.
“On the ground in twenty,” was the response.
Gunner waited for the Doctor to step aside before heading back in the cabin to relay the information to his men. The Doctor turned back into the doorway and was about to close the cabin door when Bannon turned around slightly to add, “Better strap in tight Doc, wind is picking up, we could be in for a rough landing.”
“Thanks,” the Doctor said and closed the cabin door. He was going to mention the weather update to Gunner but decided not to. He thought it might be interesting to watch the usually unflappable Swede handle a bumpy landing.
The landing was, as promised, a rough one but Captain Bannon deftly guided the Gulfstream to a successful touchdown. To the Doctor’s disappointment, Gunner remained calm through the entire process.
Captain Bannon, having been here many times with Mr. Worthington, knew exactly where to taxi the airplane. After about ten minutes, they were in front of a small hanger on the north side of the airport. The doors slid open with a touch of a button from inside the cockpit. When the entrance was fully open, Captain Bannon slowly moved the plane into the hanger.
Gunner and the Doctor were out of their seatbelts looking out the port windows for any signs of possible trouble. The hanger appeared to be clear. It would have been difficult for any infected to get in. The hanger was always kept locked and was accessible only through the large sliding doors or a side door that had a keypad lock.
The plane came to a stop near a large fuel truck. Gunner immediately went to the hatch and opened it up. As before, he looked out and deemed it safe. The Doctor grabbed his knapsack and a bottle of water from the pantry and headed down the steps and into the hanger. It was a large open room with a fuel truck to the left of the plane. At the far end of the hanger, in the left hand corner, there appeared to be a small office. Off to the right, parked near the entrance, were two metallic black Range Rover Land Rovers; complete with alloy wheels, luggage rack, and front grill rack with fog lamps.
Gunner came over to where the Doctor was standing as his men began the process of arming themselves again.
“We’ll be taking the Range Rovers into the city,” he said, “the Captain said there is an entrance to 36th street behind the hanger.
The Doctor was about to ask about the seating arrangements when Gunner continued, “You will sit with me and Olaf in the first vehicle, the others will ride behind us in the second.”
Gunner removed the walkie from his belt and performed a comm check again with Captain Bannon adding, “Please be prepared to open those sliding doors at a moment’s notice Captain. We may be coming in hot.”
“Copy that.”
Dr. Sanderson started making his way to the Range Rovers. As he approached the cars, the headlights flashed and the doors unlocked. He opened the door and got in the passenger’s seat of the first car. Gunner soon followed along with Olaf. The Doctor was pleased to finally learn the name of one of Gunner’s men. He could see the others get in the second car through the side mirror. Once everyone was in and the cars loaded up, Gunner started up the car and put it in drive.
Captain Bannon had opened the sliding doors enough so the vehicles could get out and quickly closed them. They made a U-turn and headed onto 36th street. To their left, a heavy residential area was teeming with infected. They were moving into and out of houses obviously looking for potential victims; but it appeared there were none to be had. Looking out over what had been, until recently, an affluent neighborhood complete with local country club and specialty food stores, the Doctor was beginning to fully understand the magnitude of the situation they were in.
They turned onto the on ramp to Route 953 heading south. The infected were mostly clear of the roads but the abandoned cars were a real problem. They could average only twenty-five to thirty miles an hour.
Gunner had his GPS, hooked onto the dashboard, leading them to the source of the signals.
“What do you make of the signals Doctor,” Gunner suddenly asked, “that they are moving but seem to be confined to a small area.”
The Doctor considered the question and answered, “It would appear that this area is significantly contaminated and there are probably very few, if any, survivors. The test subjects could be looking for humans but are unable to find any and have become … confused?”
Gunner turned the Land Rover onto the Dolphin Expressway as the Doctor continued, “Or it could be they are trapped somewhere and can’t get out. The reports I have read and what little I have actually witnessed would indicate they don’t have a real ability to reason.”
“With perhaps one exception,” the Doctor thought.
Gunner nodded and continued to drive, weaving in and out of what could be best described as traffic that was standing still. He reached down and removed the walkie from his belt. He turned the knob to change the channel from the one he used to communicate
with Captain Bannon.
He pushed the button in and said, “Få klart vi är nära.”
Gunner put the walkie back and began to slow down. The Doctor tensed up as he thought Gunner had seen some infected that he did not. But it was because the GPS unit indicated that they were close. Scanning the immediate area and looking at the GPS unit, the Doctor figured that the signal was just off to the southeast.
Arriving at the same conclusion, Gunner took the next exit and headed down 17th Street. They were now in a heavy residential area. Given the architecture and the businesses they were passing, the Doctor assumed they were in what was referred to as ‘Little Havana’. As they neared their destination, rising up before them, was a huge stadium complex. Gunner took a left onto 5th Street and came to a complete stop.
In front of them was Marlins Stadium, former site of the famous Orange Bowl and current home of Miami’s baseball team. More importantly, a combination of police SWAT trucks and abandoned cruisers choked off their path to the stadium to a narrow gap barely wide enough to get the Land Rovers through.
The greatest concern, however, was the dozen or so infected moving through the restricted space heading in their direction. Gunner briefly considered backing up and returning to 17th Street but a glance in the rear view mirror dissuaded him as more infected were closing in on their position from behind.
“Our test subjects are inside that stadium,” Gunner said.
He grabbed the walkie again and began speaking in rapid fire Swedish to the men in the car directly behind them. As he finished barking orders he put the walkie back in his belt and turned to the Doctor and said, “The windows are bullet proof but you should probably keep your head down anyway.”
Before the Doctor could respond, Gunner floored the Land Rover and sped forward toward the opening. The car reached about 45 miles an hour before smashing into the first zombie. Despite the tight space, Gunner was able to maneuver the car slightly to the left or the right so as not to collide with any of the zombies head on. They were flying off the Rover’s front grill and landing on the hoods of the cruisers. After about 50 feet or so the street widened. It would have been easier to simply avoid most of them now but Gunner continued to use the car as a battering ram, crushing as many as he could. As they approached Marlins Way, Gunner took a sharp right and ended up in front of the main entrance. Much to the Doctor’s surprise, Gunner’s men were still right behind them.
The Zombie Principle Page 15