Containment_A Zombie Novel

by B. A. Hippsley

  “Brad, you and I are working in the dark here; we owe it to the others to try something. I think...”

  “I think you’re as mad as he is. It’s way too dangerous. Forget it.”

  “Gag him, chain him up. Do whatever you need, but I want that test.”

  “Eastman, as soon as you see that result we can work on this. You’ll have all the evidence you want. You can’t afford to sit about with your finger up your butt any longer.”

  “Brad, we’re clueless here. If he’s talking garbage then that’s that… but what if he is telling the truth?”

  Eastman rubbed his fingers roughly through his thick black hair. Every fibre in his body cried out warnings. It went fully against his better judgement, but it was worth a try.

  “All right, you win! We do this my way. No compromise. I’ll pull the plug if need be.”

  “Thanks Brad. I’ll get my gear.” With that she smiled at Eastman and left the room.

  “Taylor, you even so much as look as if you gonna give me a problem, I’ll shoot you down like a dog!”

  ****

  “He’s no better.”

  Bridget quietly closed the living room door and walked to her husband.

  “We gotta give these things time to work.”

  Firth put his arm around his wife. “Maybe it’s time to take him to hospital...”

  “Aw, I told you what Sam Cortez said everyone who’s been infected or looks as if they got flu are in isolation. Now that’s what he said.”

  “Yeah, I know but...”

  “He also said Lenski has stopped all visitors. Why you reckon?”

  “I don’t know.” Bridget pushed away from him and stood by the kitchen door.

  “Cause they ain’t there anymore. They’ve been handed over to whoever the hell knows.”

  “Tony, how come you’re so sure about all this stuff?”

  “Eastman was the one who didn’t want anybody leaving town and he’s the only one with radios that work. If something’s going down, then the cops and medical people are the ones who gonna cover things up.”

  “What if you’re wrong? What if there is no cover and people are just getting sick?” “He’s not going anywhere. I never been a fantastic father to him, I admit that.

  But I gotta do right by him now. I got a gut feeling on this; I spent my whole life around two-faced liars. I know when something stinks and this stinks.”

  “I hope to God you’re right on this, ‘cause heaven help you if you ain’t.”

  “We just gotta give these things time to take effect. I’m gonna start loading up the Jeep. I want you to start getting things ready.”

  “We going someplace?”

  “If this thing gets any worse then I want us ready to roll. We head for Burnsville and take our chances.”

  “Can it get worse?”

  “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  ****

  “Okay Jim, run that by me again will you?” Eastman was sitting opposite Emmett.

  “I was up near the ‘old base’ when I heard the shots. Two shots, then an engine. By the time I got there, these guys were loading a body into the back of a truck.”

  “And they were wearing yellow suits. Now you sure about that?”

  “Jeez Sheriff, you ain’t about to forget something like that. They was wearing full all over bio – suits, but the ones in the Jeep had ordinary Army chem suits on. I know about these things.”

  Emmett always knew about everything. Most of the time it was baloney, plain and simple; stuff he’d got out of books or The Discovery Channel. But this time it was highly possible he was right.

  “What about the body? Did you get a look?”

  “Nope not real close, but he looked as if he’d fallen out of a dumpster – that I can say.”

  “Where exactly did this take place?”

  “Right about near that old rusted up Dodge.”

  “I know the spot. Which way they take the vehicles?”

  “Back down the road then they went left.”

  Eastman got up from his chair and collected his hat. “Well we’d best take a look.”

  Emmett gave him an incredulous look. “You mean you gonna take a look... you actually believe me?”

  “With everything that’s happened over the last few days, I believe in the Tooth Fairy.”

  “Damn! After all these years I finally got someone to listen, I’m gonna have to give it a miss.”

  “Hey, Jimmy this is your big chance. What gives?”

  “Yeah, yeah you don’t have to tell me. I reckon I got the flu. I feel kinda washed out.”

  “Are you sure about this now?”

  Emmett did look as though he’d seen a better week. Eastman would have to do without him, although the area wasn’t too difficult to find.

  “Yeah, I’d best get off home, put my feet up awhile.”

  Emmett rose and left the office only to be replaced by Anne Lenski.

  “Hey Jimmy you all right?”

  “Nope. I got a mother of a headache and I’m going home. See you doc.”

  She watched as Emmett disappeared down the corridor.

  “Something I said?”

  “Take no notice. Say, you got the test results then?”

  He motioned her to Emmet’s now vacant chair.

  “Hold on, not yet. I just got back from Mandy Galway’s. She’s taken an overdose.”

  “Hell no! Is she...?”

  “No, she’ll pull through.”

  Eastman breathed a sigh of relief. That family had already been through enough. “You fancy a trip into the hills?”

  “Why you old romantic, what’s a lady to say? But I’m needed elsewhere.”

  She looked at him and then flashed her eyes in mock surprise.

  “You and Emmett both. Reckon I’m gonna have to change my cologne.”

  “What’d he want anyway?”

  She knew Emmett was largely regarded as a crank to be avoided. He’d kept away from the Station since Benteen threatened him so he was about the last person she’d have expected to see sitting in Eastman’s office.

  “Long story. You headed back to the hospital?”

  “No. I’ve got to take Jane Opel’s cast off.” She shook her head and got up from the seat and headed for the door.

  “You gonna make a house-call for that? Send one of the girls.”

  “I can’t spare anyone and Jane won’t come to town.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “After the other night she thinks it’s not safe in town. And she’s not the only one.”

  “Can’t say as I blame them.”

  Eastman averted his eyes and got to his feet then headed for the door. A lot of folks seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

  “Now what’s the deal with Emmett?”

  “Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.”

  ****

  Elle-May sat at the nurses’ station leafing through her patients’ drugs charts. Things just did not add up. The problem had been going on for some weeks and she’d narrowed the range of suspects to just the one. Zoë and Jill were now both dead so that left Judy Garcia. But even before this cruel process of elimination had ruled out the other two, she’d worked out it had to be Judy. It had been Zoë who’d first noticed the books did not add up but there’d never been any evidence. She’d insisted they confront her, but Elle-May had wanted real proof before making any sort of allegations.

  The last thing she needed was to get dragged into any legal wrangling. Then one day it had stopped. Judy had worked a full shift on her own and nothing had gone missing. Then this morning after Judy had worked nights, Elle-May had discovered a whole range of medical supplies missing; antibiotics, opiates and even bandages. This was the last straw.

  Judy had agreed to cover an extra shift in the afternoon. This would give Elle-May time to let Anne in on her suspicions and then she could handle the whole thing. She knew Anne had taken the deaths of the two girls har
d and she’d also conducted Jill’s autopsy, with Jack Larson being off sick.

  The thought of having to do that to one of your own made her feel sick. Drinking coffee one minute with them and the next, up to your elbows in their gut. Two friends gone in as many days, Armstrong had turned into a war-zone.

  She looked up at the sound of heavy footsteps, only to see Frank and Kurt striding towards her. The older man’s face was a vacant mask, except for the wide staring eyes. This together with the sight of their guns gave her an uncomfortable feeling.

  “Where’re Nancy and Larry?” Frank’s tone was flat and bland.

  “We put them in isolation. Tell you what, come back in a while and I’ll fix you up with some suits.”

  “No need. Just show me where they’re at.”

  She studied Frank’s face. There was something very wrong about this picture. It was as if he’d detached himself from what was going on; just going through the motions in his own little bubble. Kurt was another matter. He was the exact opposite of his father. Like a cat on a hot tin roof, his eyes darted around the place, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

  The radio crackled into life. In one fast and furious moment, Frank wrenched the device from the desk hurtling it onto the hard floor. Bits of electronic parts flew across the room.

  “What the hell’s up with you?” raged Elle-May, stepping forward past the desk.

  Frank poked the barrel of his shotgun hard into her ribs.

  “I never killed anyone in my life, much less a woman. But I swear if you don’t show us our folks, I’m gonna damn well start with you!”

  “Pa! What you doing?”

  “Shut up! We come for our people and we ain’t going no place without them.”

  Elle-May heard the sound of the hammer creaking back on the ancient weapon. She shut her eyes and waited. Time slowed to a crawl and she was surprised just how quiet everything had become. Soon the only thing she could hear was the sound of her own breathing. She opened her eyes as she felt the pressure of the gun ease off. She had no choice other than to help Frank.

  “Okay. But you keep that thing outta my face. You hear me!”

  He lowered the gun and nodded.

  “Fair. But don’t sass me none. Now I want the strongest sleeping pills you got and lots of them.”

  She didn’t like the sound of this one bit. But she wasn’t prepared to argue, she wanted them gone. The longer they stayed the more likely someone was going to get hurt. She took a long look at Frank and then led them off down the corridor.

  ****

  Eastman stood in front of the old Airbase, its sharp concrete lines in stark contrast to the green lush vegetation surrounding it. Apart from green moss growing about the building, the base had remained largely unchanged for over a half a century. How many carefree hours had he spent here? As a kid he’d hidden from Ben Burke with Benteen so many times after raiding the apple trees, he’d even stolen his first kiss from Helen here. Happy days.

  The sky had darkened and the tips of the trees moved uneasily against the wind. He hitched his shirt collar up, felt ill at ease and tense, but he was here to investigate. He’d searched for the area where Emmett claimed he’d seen the killing but he’d drawn a blank. There’d been a strong smell of some kind of chemical but nothing else. Something Taylor said about the base had plagued him. He needed to look over the area to satisfy his own curiosity.

  The structure was a two-story box, designed to house about thirty people, jammed full of electronic equipment. It was hard to think that in its day the base was considered a vital part of NORAD. He could just about remember the wooden buildings dotted about the area. Now the undergrowth covered cinder block foundations were the only clue to anything ever having been there. The windows had long since been boarded up but the main doorway was still accessible.

  Moving about the ground floor he struggled to see in the partial gloom. He shone his flashlight around the room, only to reveal a lifetime of faded graffiti scrolled on the walls. If he looked hard enough he’d probably find his name too. As he moved from room to room he wasn’t even sure he knew what he was looking for. Was it the boy? Evidence of something else? Or was he there just to satisfy his curiosity?

  As his eyes adjusted to the dark he found the entrance to the upper floor stairwell. He pushed hard against the blocked door but it was stuck fast. He swept his light across the floor only to discover an array of used condoms, syringes and beer cans. Any further fond memories of the place were now pushed from his mind.

  Then a strange feeling overwhelmed him, like being in an old attic or basement. That sudden unreasonable fear, that same fear that makes you snap the light on in the middle of the night. Eastman had the sensation that someone was standing behind him. It was as if he could feel eyes watching him. His heart beat out a Samba and his hands became cold and damp lumps of meat. The dank smell of damp and a sudden coldness made him turn on his heel and race outside.

  He lent up against the outside wall and brought himself under control. In the cold light of day it was impossible for Eastman to see why he’d reacted in panic. It was just an old empty building and yet... He took one last look at the base; he never wanted to come here again. He started back down the track and headed for town, unaware of the sudden movement in the foliage behind him.

  ****

  PFC Alan Harper rested his finger on the trigger of his M16. The cross hairs of the weapon’s sight sat on the back of the lawman’s head. At this short range the powerful 223mm round would smash through his head like an over-ripe melon. He’d watched as the man had made his way from the incident site to the base. The exact location where only a few hours earlier, Corporal Wyllie had blasted the crap out of one of those creeps.

  The whole unit knew the importance of holding the line and not letting anything out. The thought of any of these things getting into a major town was enough to keep him sharp. This guy was near that line right now. Harper knew that the images from his head-cam were being relayed to the command post and now all he was waiting for was the order to engage.

  Although he was well acclimatized to heat, this temperature was almost unbearable in his protective suit and heavy rubber respirator. He could feel the sweat run into his eyes but he had to hold the shot. It was with immense relief that the order came to stand down’. He eased his finger away from the trigger and flicked the safety catch on and watched as the ‘potential’ moved down the track, out of sight.

  Harper left his position and moved swiftly through the dense tree line to rejoin his unit. This place gave him the creeps and he was glad to be away. Since the mission had started no one in his unit had killed any of the ‘potentials’ and he was happy not to be the first. He’d killed several of the infected and that was okay; they were beyond help anyway. It was the best thing for them. The medics had made it clear that there was no cure for these SOB’s. He sure as hell didn’t want to end up like that, and that meant they had to keep them in the containment area.

  Wyllie said the whole town had gone bad and this was God’s way of punishing them. Growing up in the Bronx, Harper hadn’t had much time for religion. In his book, the guy was cause for concern. He was wrapped too tight for this crap and guys like that come unstuck. But he was the squad leader and you’d have to be some kinda nut to squawk about him. Besides, this unit was far from ordinary and the things they’d had to deal with made people a bit odd. During the Ebola emergency, they’d got involved in some pretty heavy stuff and now this was going along the same lines.

  As he headed toward the small group of soldiers he could see another two infected in the back of the truck. Things were getting pretty heavy after all. The guys in the yellow suits bustled about giving instructions but they just seemed clueless. The way he saw it was that they’d been sent here too late. By the time they’d set up the containment area, hell knows how many of the things had got out. They didn’t have enough guys on the ground in any case. Somebody had messed up and that kinda ‘mess up’ usua
lly meant bad news all around.

  Drawing near the others he couldn’t help but wonder if it would have been kinder to have shot the guy. At least it would’ve been quick and over. What the brass had planned for this hick town was far from that. But that was the best part of being on the bottom of the chain of command. He was just following orders.

  Chapter - Eighteen

  Hardly a sound disturbed the quiet of the house, except for the ticking of the old clock resting on the dresser. Nobody could remember just how old the thing was for sure, but they knew it was old. It had been in the family since Grandpa Joe had been a boy and still kept the right time.

  The sitting room was neat as a new pin with nothing out of place. The clutter of the last few days had been banished; the ornaments on the mantelpiece and the many picture frames dusted. Things were back in order, just as Nancy liked it.

  Frank, sitting at the large wooden table in his Sunday best, looked about the room thinking how pleased she’d be at his efforts. The suit was the stylish blue one he’d bought for his cousin’s wedding the previous month; Nancy had said that looking smart made him appear years younger.

  Frank looked over at Kurt and Larry who were slumped in the two armchairs, heavily sedated. Kurt had been easy to drug; Frank had just crushed some of the tablets into his food and Larry was already out cold anyway. They looked peaceful, at rest with no fear, safe from the world. It reminded him of when they’d been babies and he’d used to hold them tightly. That was over twenty years ago; he was proud of the way they’d both turned out, honest hard working men.

  He’d tried to put Nancy out too, but even the strongest knock-out drugs had been of no use. He’d hated doing it, but the only way to stop that awful noise had been to gag her and put a pillow-case over her head. He just couldn’t look at her eyes. The eyes were the worst part. They just didn’t belong to her anymore, not his Nancy. It had been a mistake to try to get her to sit down without the rope but it had felt wrong. He looked at the bite on his hand; it was only a small wound but it had bled like anything. Still, she was safe with them. They were all safe now.