Olaf had reached a good point on the pole and, using hand signals, imparted his intentions to Gunner. He slowly moved to the other side of the pole and began to rock back and forth attempting to create a sling shot action that would help propel him toward the chopper. Gunner moved into position and tilted the landing gear slightly so that it was as close as possible to Olaf.
Gunner had actually considered leaving Olaf behind as he felt attempting to rescue him was putting the rest of the group at risk. But, Olaf had the restraining devices and most of their ammunition in the black bag. Luckily for Olaf that made him a very valuable commodity.
Olaf was slightly above Gunner. In theory he figured he would fall down and outward and be able to grab ahold of the landing gear. He was about to count to three and leap when he noticed his left ankle had begun to throb with pain. He hoped it would not affect his ability to push off the netting. As Gunner steadied the Lakota, Olaf counted down from three and tried to time his jump so it coincided with the proximity of the landing gear.
He leapt forward, arms outstretched as far as he could. Gunner’s men were leaning out of the helicopter waiting to grab Olaf as quickly as possible. Olaf soared toward the chopper for a second or two before the weight of his weapon, the bag, and his protective gear, succumbed to gravity and he began to rapidly free-fall. But he had propelled himself enough and one last maneuver by Gunner allowed Olaf to reach the chopper and grab hold of the landing gear.
His feet swayed in the open air as his weight caused the helicopter to pitch and roll slightly. Gunner was, however, equal to the task and quickly regained control of the aircraft. Olaf desperately tried to maintain his grip on the gear as his associates reached down to assist him. Gunner’s men were finally able to grab Olaf’s left hand as he pulled himself up into the back of the chopper. Olaf was clearly shaken. Stefan relieved him of the black bag and sat him down near the edge of the helicopter.
Gunner moved the helicopter high enough to clear the stadium and started heading northwest. With the immediate danger of the infected behind them, he turned his attention to Olaf.
“Har du blivit biten?” he asked.
Receiving no answer he asked again more urgently.
“Kontrollera honom,” he said to the other two. They looked at Gunner, then at Olaf who appeared terrified. The other two men grabbed Olaf and pinned him to the floor of the helicopter and began poking and prodding him. They checked him all over as he squirmed. Gunner removed his hand gun and leveled it at Olaf’s head. Olaf stopped moving.
Lifting Olaf’s left pant leg revealed blood stains. Further examination exposed the source of the stains; a sizeable bite mark just above the ankle. Olaf looked at Gunner. The sheer terror in Olaf’s eyes was obvious and his face was ashen.
Gunner looked down and then back up. “Kasta honom överbord,” he said to the two men holding Olaf down.
They did not move. Gunner raised his weapon again; this time at one of the two other men. Unblinking, Gunner stared at his associate. Everyone in the helicopter new what had to be done except no one wanted to do it. A second passed, then another. When they were finally clear of the stadium, Gunner reached back and with a swift stroke, grabbed ahold of Olaf and pushed him out of the aircraft. Turning back around he continued to fly the helicopter.
“I’m sorry Doctor, it had to be done,” he said.
Dr. Sanderson had spent most of his adult life trying to find ways to improve the quality of life for all mankind. He had trained himself to believe that there was always hope; always a chance. It was this belief that was partly responsible for this adventure they were currently undertaking. But as the sun began to set over the western horizon, Dr. Sanderson agreed; it had to be done.
Chapter 18
Captured
Test subject Number 5, the former Richard Kimbro, had just finished infecting an unsuspecting pizza delivery boy. He was traveling north and had almost reached the Florida-Alabama border. His need to feed, however, was growing again. His next victim was likely going to be devoured and not added to the zombie army he had been accumulating for the last 72 hours.
His thirst for flesh was primarily confined to humans whereas those he infected and those even further down the line seemed content with either human or animal flesh such as deer or boar.
The need for rest eluded him. He had been moving nonstop for the better part of three days traveling with a small group of zombies since leaving the Orlando area. They seemed to respond to him in a way that was hard to describe. He was using them as … protection. They surrounded him as the group moved wherever fresh prey was in great supply.
They were currently ambling near I-10 just outside Tallahassee Florida. Up ahead, they were drawn to the smell of human flesh and the sound of beating hearts. A group of humans were standing off to the side of the road. Number 5 followed their scent and moved in closer. He was in reach of his next victim when suddenly it was gone and a steel door slammed in front of him. Unable to move forward, Number 5 turned around only to bump into one of his own.
Moving in circles and unable to escape, Number 5 could still smell the humans nearby. Determined and persistent, he continued to head toward the sound of beating hearts but was stymied at every turn.
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Shortly after Miami fell the President of the United States ordered the military to find and capture several infected persons so that they could be studied at length and perhaps a cause could be determined and then a proper course of action could be undertaken. Since the National Guard was already in position in Florida, it fell to them to round up potential guinea pigs for the experiments. A small unit of Guardsmen had positioned themselves outside of Tallahassee after they received word that several groups of infected were heading that way.
They had set a trap for them that included a portable iron cage large enough to easily hold 8 to 10 infected; basically a portable jail cell. It was driven down in the back of a climate controlled 18 wheeler that the Guard used from time to time to haul emergency supplies to affected areas after natural disasters.
They drew in the first group of infected they saw by placing two Guardsmen inside the cage as bait (unsurprisingly no one actually volunteered). There were two doors on the cage, each on opposite ends. The plan was to lure them inside the one door and then have the Guardsmen slip out the other door locking them in while another soldier would nudge the stragglers into the cage using a large pole.
Once the first infected entered the cage the guardsman exited using the back door closing it tightly behind him. He barely escaped the reach of the prisoner as it extended its arms through the narrow space between the bars. The next three followed right behind the first. The last two hesitated before moving forward into the trap. They began to take an interest in the other Guardsmen occupying the area to the cage’s left. Two other soldiers came around from the back side of the pen holding six foot poles that looked like small battering rams. They shoved the last two infected into the cage with the end of the poles. A third soldier ran to the door and slammed it closed.
Overall, it went as well as could be expected with no casualties and six infected locked in the pen. The cage was then lifted into the back of the truck using a forklift and then pushed back toward the middle of the truck bed. The lights inside the truck were turned on so that the infected could be observed during transport.
A closed circuit camera had been set up inside to monitor the infected and record on their activity. As it turned out, they mostly charted their inactivity. The scientists felt that the captured infected people’s behavior might shed some light on how best to reverse whatever it was that was happening to them. All that the Guardsmen witnessed was a lot of standing and pacing. The infected seemed to barely acknowledge the existence of one another; while at the same time, constantly bumping into each other or the iron walls of the cage.
The soldiers, however, made two noteworthy observations. First, at no time during the trip did any of the infected sit dow
n or lean against the walls of the cage. It was a ten hour trip to Fort Campbell, Kentucky and they showed no sign of fatigue. The second observation was a little more subtle. None of the infected made any real attempt to escape. They all aimlessly moved about inside the cage. None of them attempted to open one of the locked doors or tried to climb upwards to see if the top of the cage could be lifted up.
That is except for one. An adult male of indeterminate age wearing what appeared to be hospital scrubs tried opening both doors. It was almost imperceptible. He moved to one of the doors and instead of just running into the bars as the others did; he reached for where the lock was and pulled. It might have been an accident or pure chance if not for the fact that when he was unable to open the first door, he tried the same thing with the second door.
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Fort Campbell was the home of the 101st Airborne and had the distinction of being the most deployed unit in the armed forces. This basically meant that when there was trouble out there, they were the first to go. It also meant that the base was often sparsely populated with army personnel.
Upon arriving in Fort Campbell, Number 5 was unloaded with the rest of the test subjects into a holding pen. Soldiers in full armor entered the pen a short time later to subdue and strap each of the six subjects onto a hospital gurney. Number 5 could smell the soldiers through their armor but could do nothing about it. His attempts at feeding were in vain. He could not penetrate their protective gear. He was very hungry now.
Number 5 was moved into a medical lab along with the others. Each were placed in a small cubical separated by a sliding glass window. Blood (if you could call it that) was drawn, x-rays were taken, spinal fluid tapped, and hair samples were examined.
Over the next 24 hours the test subjects had transformed from a maniacal bloodthirsty group into a docile like condition. It was as if they were sleeping or in a coma. It was impossible for the researchers to tell. All the data from the tests were inconclusive. They were no closer to figuring out what had caused their illness then when they were brought in. It frustrated and agitated the medical personnel.
Number 5 was perfectly aware of his surroundings and the movements of the staff. He could still hear their heartbeats and smell their flesh but had outwardly shut down. The virus that had invaded his body and controlled his actions had induced a trance like state; perhaps simply waiting for an opportunity to feed.
The researchers were working long hours and most had not rested since the subjects arrived. They understood the urgency to produce results and had failed to do so thus far. They began to rush and they began to get sloppy.
If the test subjects needed to be moved in order to retrieve samples from particular parts of the body they would be unstrapped and held in place, the samples taken, and then re-strapped. The subjects’ current condition had lulled the staff into a false sense of security. The need for answers combined with the perceived safety was a dangerous combination.
32 hours after arriving, the test subject that had been given the code name Bravo was unstrapped and skin tissue was removed from several areas of the body. The researchers were in such a hurry to properly store the sample for testing, they forgot to re-strap the subject’s restraints. After repeating the procedure on the other test subjects, one of the researchers left the lab to bring the samples to the testing facility. The second researcher, returning to the test subject’s cubicles, noticed the loose straps on test subject Bravo. Moving over to the hospital gurney he reached for the left arm strap. As he was about to grab it, Bravo’s hand came up and closed tightly around the researcher’s neck. The test subject’s head came up as he pulled the researcher’s neck down at the same time.
Number 5 was finally feeding again. He took a bite out of the researcher’s neck and let him fall to the ground. He started to rise up only to be stopped by the strap on his right wrist. Rotating his wrist back and forth he was able to slowly remove his arm from the leather strap. He was soon sitting upright. His leg straps had not been refastened. A few moments later he was standing next to his gurney.
He bent down next to the research assistant and hovered over him for a moment. Number 5 paused for a second and then gradually rose to his feet. He stepped out of his cubicle and looked out into the lab. He could not smell any humans nearby. He turned to the right and staggered to the only exit in the lab. He pushed on the door and it did not move. He reached for the door handle and pulled and that did not work. Moving back a few steps and to the left he stood silently waiting for the door to open.
Fifteen minutes later a former research assistant with a large gash in his neck and blood splatter on his lab coat moved next to Number 5 and stood there staring blankly at the door.
Chapter 19
Reservations
The convoy had been rumbling along for over an hour before anyone said anything in the back of the truck. Kim was whispering to her kids as the students tried in vain to get a few more minutes of sleep. The soldier kept inspecting his gun over and over again while Chester stared out of the back of the truck. With sleep impossible to obtain the students resigned themselves to being awake and started making small talk with Kim and Sgt. Sanchez. As the drive wore on, the civilians tried to relax as much as they could on the hard wooden troop seats. Passing the time in idle conversation nobody noticed Danielle shuffle over to Chester and tug on his pant leg.
“Hey mister, what’s your name?” she asked.
Hearing her daughter’s voice Kim’s looked up, “Leave him alone Danielle. Come back over here.” Looking in Chester’s direction she added, “Sorry about that sir.”
Chester looked down at the girl and let out a grunt as he turned back to stare out of the truck.
“She asks a good question, sir,” said Stephen. “It looks like we might be together for a while so you might as well let us know what to call you.”
“My name’s Chester.”
“We’ll it’s nice to meet you, Chester,” said Kim trying to be polite. “I’m Kim; these are my kids Danielle and Jason.”
“And I’m Stephen and these are my friends Dave, Lucy and Nick,” Stephen said motioning to the others.
Without saying a word Chester turned to survey the others in the truck, gave them a nod, and then turned back to staring out of the back of the truck.
“A real conversationalist that guy,” said Nick with a chuckle.
“How come he won’t talk Mommy?” asked Danielle.
“I think he just wants to be left alone honey,” replied Kim.
“Hey Danielle, you want to come over here and I’ll braid your hair?” asked Lucy.
Looking to her mom and receiving a nod of approval Danielle went over and sat down in front of Lucy who began to comb her fingers through the young girl’s hair. The others went back to quiet conversation while Sgt. Sanchez continued inspecting his weapon. Chester stared into the distance beyond the convoy wondering where the hell his truck was.
Around noon, Sgt. Sanchez suddenly put his weapon across his lap and put his hand to his ear as he listened to his comm. When the message was over, Sanchez turned his attention to everyone in the truck.
“Alright listen up everyone. The Major said we will be stopping in the next half hour. He’s looking for a place that has a restroom and that might also have food. When we arrive he wants us to move as quickly as possible so we can get on the road again. I’ll let you know when we are about to stop.”
The conversations ceased as everyone contemplated having to leave the safety of the truck. Even though most of them were hungry and could use a bathroom break they did not relish having to face whatever was out there. Sgt. Sanchez went back to looking his weapon over while Stephen picked up his axe from the floor and gripped it tight in his hands. Kim glanced at the pistol case next to her but decided against opening it up here in front of her kids.
A short while later Sgt. Sanchez spoke up again.
“It looks like there might be a small convenience store and gas sta
tion down the road at the next exit. I’ll get out first and once we know it’s all clear, the rest of you can get out.”
Everyone, except Chester, gave Sanchez a nod. The truck bumped along for a couple more miles before it slowed. As the convoy pulled into a small parking lot Sanchez raised his weapon to the ready position. Before the truck had even come to a stop Chester had hopped out, shotgun in hand, and disappeared around the corner.
“Hey buddy … oh never mind,” said Sgt. Sanchez as he jumped out of the truck.
Looking around he put his hand to his ear again as he received a message. Coming back to the truck’s tail gate he motioned for the civilians to get out.
“It looks all clear but make sure you are paying attention. The building is being cleared. Make it fast; when you are not using the restroom look for food in the store. Let’s go.”
Major Bradley slowly got out of his Humvee and stretched his legs as he barked orders at the soldiers around him. He had picked a small isolated gas station convenience store to stop at. The Major was counting on few zombies being in the area. He was also hoping that this would not only offer a restroom for the convoy but also a possible source of food and supplies. Two of his soldiers caught his attention as they emerged from the store and gave him the all clear signal.
“Alright, get the civilians into the building and keep a sharp eye out,” he said into his comm. “The rest of you can relieve yourselves around the convoy.”
He watched as his soldiers escorted the civilians into the store and set a guard at the door. It was a typical backwoods gas station; a rundown building with two pumps and a small garage to the side. Through the dirty glass windows in the front of the store he could see shelves that seemed to still hold most of their goods. The civilians milled around in the back of the store waiting on the restrooms.
The Zombie Principle Page 17