Catalyst (Book 3): Ghost Country

by Franks, JK

“Some sort of figure in the road, looks human,” Pam responded.

  Steve didn’t like it. They weren’t moving like humans. “Oh, shit, masks on, infected!”

  Tahir was as scared as he had ever been. Having seen the infected closer than most, he knew how dangerous they were. Now, he sat in the back of Scott’s Jeep with Bartos and Lt. Garret heading out to deliberately catch one. “Oh, fuck now…this is more than just bad.” DJ sat opposite him looking just as petrified, nodding his head nervously in full agreement.

  The two men up front just turned and smiled at one another. They had gotten radio reports of a pod of infected much farther south than expected. A pod, as they were starting to be called, usually was about three to five individuals traveling and hunting together. This would work fine for their needs. The speaker hooked up to the laptop Tahir carried was hopefully all they needed to come up with a way to steer the infected.

  How to actually locate the pods and then safely catch a single one of them was another matter entirely. Garret had wanted to toss a cargo net on them as they sped by in the Jeep. The large net was rolled up in the back and was an option, but DJ had an alternative plan: a vet’s tranquilizer gun loaded with Ketamine. The knock-out drug they used on horses. He felt sure it would have the same effect on one of the infected. Bartos watched the lad’s face in the rear-view mirror. He didn’t seem quite so sure now.

  “Why would this group be so much farther south?” Garret’s question was directed at the back seat.

  DJ fidgeted, then answered, “Hard to say, they aren’t so far from the larger groups that they couldn’t have made it on their own, but more likely, they were exposed sooner.”

  “Or,” Tahir added, “they were traveling south when they got infected, and it only took them once they got closer to here.”

  “So, where do you eggheads propose we look for ‘em?” Bartos asked with a snarky tone. DJ and Tahir both shrugged.

  They drove on closer to the small town north of Mobile where the report had originated. Bartos pulled the Jeep over. “I’m going to see if I can find that person who spotted them.” He stepped out to get a better signal and clicked the two-way radio on. Bobby’s voice came through immediately. “Go ahead, Truckstop, this is Gopher,” Bartos replied.

  Chapter Eighty-Seven

  Southern Mississippi

  Bartos watched the man cautiously as he exited the old, green four-wheel drive. His first impression of the man was a bit of a letdown. He appeared ordinary, even underwhelming, in appearance; the presence of a wife and child was even more surprising. Although they had talked on the radio countless times, neither had any idea of what the other might look like. “Sentinel?” Bartos said cautiously.

  The man's face broke into a huge smile that was both genuine and grateful. “Gopher? I recognize the voice. Call me Steven.” The two shook hands as other introductions were made. “When I called Truckstop to report the infected, they said you guys were already heading out this way and to please keep an eye on the subjects…but not to harm them?” He said the last part as a question.

  Bartos had been watching the infected several hundred yards away. They appeared to be deciding whether to attack or not. “LT, can you try that toy rifle from here?”

  Garret took the gun DJ was loading with the tranq dart and headed down into the clearing. “Hey, Navy…don’t get eaten, I do not want to have to explain that to your dad.” Garret flipped him off.

  Pam took note of Bartos’ limp, “You ok? Need me to take a look?” Bartos laughed, “No, it’s not recent, been a rather active few months. We have full medical facilities, Thanks, though.”

  She nodded, “Is there a particular reason you guys are trying to capture one of them? Is it zombie season in South Alabama?”

  The tiny sound from the rifle in Garret’s hand was followed by one of the creatures dropping. The other three were scattering in other directions. Bartos smiled, “Only for the females. Have to wait till winter to nab the bucks.”

  He turned to the Jeep. “DJ, these people need the antivirals.”

  “Oh, right,” he said hurrying off to get his medical bag.

  “Wait,” the attractive woman said. “You really do have a cure?”

  “Well, a treatment, we aren’t positive it is a cure, but so far it’s working. Look, we have a lot to tell you, and as soon as we get the infected secured, I can let the two geekazoids get busy with their test, then you can follow me back to the AG.”

  “The AG,” JD said holding onto Elvis who looked ready to go after the downed subject.

  Bartos squatted down, “Yeah, it's our ship, the Aquatic Goddess, old cruise ship we call home.” He began scratching the ears of the friendly mutt. “What’s his name?”

  “Elvis.”

  “I have a dog, too, well, most times I do. Right now, he his…on assignment I guess. Steven, can you give me and the lieutenant a hand? We need to get that one tied up with enough rope so we can test her reactions to various sounds.”

  “Y’all are the weirdest bunch I have met since all this shit started.” Steven walked on down into the clearing. “But sure. The first zombie I meet, I definitely want to tie her to a rope and see what she does.”

  Tahir was putting the final adjustments on the audio wave generator. He already knew approximately what frequency range was needed, but he wanted to test it at varying levels as well as the opposite spectrum in the ultra-high pitches. His theory was if one signal drove the creature off, the opposite might attract it.

  Garret held the female down with a knee to the back. He couldn’t bring himself to think of it as a girl, although that clearly was what it was. He couldn’t believe the level of strength the tiny thing was beginning to exert. “Ok, it’s coming around, make a path for me and take her out if she tries anything.” He had to yell as the tether was nearly twenty-five feet, and everyone else was back beyond that. He sprang up and sprinted for the line. The female was up and pursuing him in seconds. Bartos tracked the infected with the rifle but didn’t fire. She was almost within reach of Garret. As he reached the perimeter, the infected girl jumped after him only to be pulled up short by the rope.

  The creature growled, her stringy matted hair framed a face that was more feral than human. She immediately began attempting to remove the bindings. “Good luck getting that off, honey,” Garret said. “Navy teaches us how to tie knots the first week.”

  “Really?” Bartos said. “I think I learned that in kindergarten. What about you, Steve?”

  “Boy Scouts,” Porter said with a smile.

  “Yeah, Boy Scouts this one, LT.” He turned to Steve, “You’re going to get along just fine here, man.”

  Garret was still glaring at them, “You let her get a little close there didn’t you, Cajun?”

  “Sorry, man, I was sure you could run faster than that….guess I was wrong. Tahir, you ready to go yet?”

  Tahir and DJ were set up on the back of the Jeep. Speaker, amp and laptop connected and pointing at the infected girl. “Starting now,” DJ said. A low hum just at the very limit of recognizable sound began. It stepped down even lower after a few seconds, then after nearly a minute, it was not even registering to them as a sound. They all felt it, though, as a vibration in their bones, in the fillings of their teeth. Then that, too, had passed.

  “Out of the normal human sound spectrum,” DJ said. Then, the creature who had just been watching them with unfocused and unblinking eyes made a yelping sound and ran back to the other extent of the tether. They all looked at one another in triumph. It took nearly two more hours to find the specific frequency and record all the specifics. The reaction on the infected girl was the same each time. Unfortunately, the opposite wasn’t true. No combinations of other sounds would work as an attractor, but they had what the needed. A way to steer the infected away.

  Garret was beaming with pride, “Damn, you guys are good. I’m calling this into the Bataan now. You have no idea how many lives you just saved.”

  Eve
ryone else began to load themselves and the equipment back into vehicles. JD squatted down to watch the girl. DJ walked over and squatted beside him. “DJ and JD, that’s going to confuse a lot of people isn’t it?”

  JD just kept watching the infected girl, “Nah, they will figure out pretty quick JD is the good looking one.”

  “Damn, not you, too.”

  “Tahir, it’s not the Chimera that’s spreading its smartassery.”

  “You have to put her down, now don’t you?” the boy said.

  DJ wasn’t sure how to handle the truth with someone his age. “Yes, we do,” he finally said deciding on the truth. “Bartos will do that, and we can put her in a containment bag to transport to our lab. She is no longer human. That part died long ago.” His feeble attempt at softening the truth unnecessary, as JD stood and walked to the Defender.

  “Yep.” The boy said walking away.

  Bartos got Steven, Pam, JD and Elvis settled into the AG as the very first of the Patriot arrivals. Garret accompanied the corpse, DJ and Tahir back to the Bataan. “Are you even trying?” DJ complained to his friend struggling to maneuver the thick vinyl bag into the cold storage room.

  “Shut up,” Tahir said clearly not liking this level of interaction with the infected or the dead. His breath fogged up as he spoke the words. “What would you guys have done if the fuel had run out, and the refrigeration stopped?” he said with a laugh looking around at the other bodies hanging in the room along with carious containment vessels labeled ‘Tissue Samples.’

  DJ shrugged, “It would have gotten ripe pretty quickly,” He said, locking the door closed again.

  “But the virus would have been inert, right?”

  “Yeah, it needs a live host to survive. Relax, Tahir, you are fine. Our seven cadavers in there are not going to come out and get you while you sleep.”

  Tahir cocked his head and looked strangely toward DJ.

  “What?” DJ asked getting annoyed.

  “Eight,”

  “Eight what, Tahir?”

  “You have eight bodies hanging in that locker, my friend.”

  Chapter Eighty-Eight

  Thunder Ridge Protectorate

  The sounds of the monstrous HVAC system overhead gave an oddly mechanical feel to the otherwise barren rock cavern. The natural space had been ideal for the protectorate camp. The civilian population was only allowed this deep into the mountain by special requests. Since arriving three days earlier, Skybox had been shown much of the sprawling complex, but this was something else. The vibe coming off his commander was hard to pin down. He wondered briefly if his subterfuge had been discovered, but if that were the case, he would have simply been shot.

  “Angel?”

  The man cut him off, motioning for him to keep following. They were heading for an unlit area of the cavern. The sound of the air handler faded behind them to be replaced by the pleasing sound of water dripping into shallow pools. “Watch your head, it’s a bit cramped.” Archangel rounded a large stalagmite and disappeared into a crack in the rock wall. Skybox stooped as well as his headlamp illuminated a natural fissure running high up the wall. Here at the base, it was just wide enough to wedge his body through if he turned sideways.

  On the other side, he rose back to normal height. The alcove was small, maybe a dozen feet across. There was a pool of crystal clear water at the center and what appeared to be a stream running away from the water and into or under the rock on the far side. A natural rock ledge reached partially around the small space. This was where Archangel now sat, and in his hands was a Glock-19 pointing right at Skybox’s head.

  “Okay,” Skybox said nervously.

  “Remove your shirt and pants, Sky.”

  He did so, beginning to hopefully understand the labyrinthian journey and the man’s silence.

  “Place them into this.” From his pack, he unfolded one of the large Praetor anti-static bags and handed it over. The silvery plastic was good at protecting electronics from static electricity, but the ones they used also effectively blocked any devices from transmitting. Archangel wanted this conversation to remain private and had gone to great lengths to ensure it.

  Skybox handed him back the bag which Angel sealed, then he put the gun away. “Sit, please.”

  He sat and waited for the man to say what was on his mind. “You have many questions, this is the only place we can speak with any possibility of confidentiality. So, Skybox, ask your questions.”

  He did indeed have many but started with the most important, “Why am I here?”

  “Ah, very good and to the point. I’ve always liked you, Michael, you showed so much promise even back in your early days with the CIA.”

  The use of his actual name was jarring. While it shouldn’t have surprised him that the man had access to that, it still did. No one had used it in addressing him in years.

  “You are here to help me get rid of her, actually, not just Levy, but the whole goddamn lot of ‘em. You were right when we met before, it was time to overthrow our Caesar. Your mistake, my brother…as well as mine, as it turned out, was including Vincent in that discussion.”

  Skybox nodded but remained quiet. The senior commander continued, “Vince was helping the president with her crazy plan of bio-warfare. Ms. Levy seemed uninterested, content to just let it happen. Upon our return here, I reached out to P-Command for instructions only to find our command was gone. All of them―Levy had taken them out. I knew I had to step in, but Vince was waiting. It got ugly fast, but I got the command codes from him before he died.”

  Archangel seemed to be waiting for comment. Skybox had a hard time imagining Angel taking out the huge man in a fair fight but assumed it probably hadn’t been one. His mind was already piecing together the tactical analysis. Praetor versus Praetor was damned unusual. “So, our civilian boss…this woman, Levy, was ok with you killing her head of security?”

  The other man smiled and shook his head, “Not exactly, but she had been aware of his betrayal to the president. Poisoning the camps and getting most of ‘em destroyed seemed to have annoyed her. She is not a person who likes to be annoyed. It brought a bit more scrutiny on me. Hence…the reason for this,” he waved his hands around the space. “Assume nothing you say or do inside the facility is private. She has eyes and ears everywhere. Trust me when I say her paranoia, much like her ego, has no boundaries.”

  Skybox considered his next question carefully. If this was a trap, he would be revealing too much. “How do you propose I accomplish this? I haven’t even met the woman yet.”

  Archangel shrugged, “I usually don’t even know if she is here in this facility. Mostly, we communicate via video calls. But, my friend, you wouldn’t have come here without a plan, now would you? Look, you don’t trust me, I know that. I have a reputation for…looking out for myself, shall we say? You will have to decide to trust me…or not.”

  Sky thought on the man’s choice of the word ‘friend.’ None of the members of the Guard would ever be accurately described by that term, but there was something, a loyalty, a brotherhood of sorts. “Are there any more of us here?”

  “No,” Angel said with a shake of the head. “I put out a call to all embeds, activating them to leadership hoping some would be close…none here responded. Many still exist out there, hopefully, some picked up the fight, but my feeling is she and her Council have been dismantling the Praetor command and rank and file for years. We are a threat to their power. It was only a matter of time before we all reached the same decision you did.”

  The two men talked a while longer before Archangel handed his clothes back over and stood. “You know what must be done, Sky. I’ll do my best to help, but understand, these people are brilliant, they have been running things for centuries.”

  Chapter Eighty-Nine

  Unknown Location

  The pain was no longer the same. It still hurt just as bad, but it was a familiar thing now. She’d watched through half-closed eyes as the face in the window cam
e and watched. She saw only a silhouette, but her mind applied face after face to the image until one seemed to fit. Now, the question was why? He was evil, yes. That was certain, but even evil ones had reasons behind their actions. The smell of vomit and shit filled her with revulsion. The fact that it was hers made it no less tolerable.

  How long had she been chained here? Long enough for the shackles to abrade the skin from her wrist, heal and be worn away again several times over. Weeks definitely, months even more likely. With no way of discerning night from day, it was impossible to guess. Even the occasional food was no way to gauge. Just enough to keep her alive but never anything like regular meals. The torture and experiments continued, no matter what her condition. She longed to die, begged for it, but no escape that easy would be hers.

  Since any release for her physical form was impossible, she began to use the hours of agony to escape mentally. First, she worked on school assignments she could recall. She’d always been good in school, academically at least. She went through all of the challenging years of literature, math, history. Then English, science and her favorite, biology. Some, she couldn’t recall the answers, no matter how hard she delved into the madness of her brain. Those pushed her to think hard, develop new ideas and, in some cases, ignore the truth for an even better truth. Year by year she worked her way through her curriculum. She escaped into a world of her own creation, unlocking ideas and possibilities that would have eluded her otherwise. She wondered if something like this happened to Stephen Hawking as he found himself locked inside a tormented body.

  He’d been a genius, and she was just a girl. What would she do, anyway, assuming she got away? How would she live, how would she survive? That thought became a burning question, a riddle to be solved. The fantasy took over her mind, numbing her to the pain. Day after day, she worked out scenarios and possibilities until, finally, there were no other option to explore. Ultimately, she couldn’t solve it…not until she eliminated one thing. She didn’t need to survive, she just needed to make sure no one else did. Revenge became the next project to occupy her mind. The how, the who…the when.