Containment_A Zombie Novel

by B. A. Hippsley

  The weight of the creature pressed Chattman against the hard ground, making it impossible to move. Chattman stared at the misshapen parody of a human face snarling and dripping slime inches away from him. This thing didn’t even have to bite him: one drop, just one drop of that foul smelling ooze would be enough to contaminate him. At all costs he had to keep the snapping, drooling head away, but the thing was too heavy. Chattman began to think it would only be a matter of time before he lost the struggle, when suddenly Al Paxmore flew off him.

  “Well I ain’t about to do all the work for you, son.”

  Chattman took hold of the extended hand reaching out to him and was surprised to find Robert Pool smiling down at him.

  “Jeez Rob, thank you buddy,” was all he could manage.

  “Yeah well, it ain’t over just yet.”

  He pointed to the creature getting slowly to its feet. Having lost interest in Chattman the thing was now seeking prey far closer. It made a lunge at James Burke, who dodged out of the way, accidentally lining up the next kill. The little girl stood transfixed by the danger shambling towards her. She clutched at her rag doll as her yellow spotted dress fluttered in the gentle wind.

  The bullet entered just under Al’s right eye and exited through the back of his head in a crimson mist of bone and flesh. Paxmore fell to his knees then dropped sideways hitting the floor with an audible thump. The girl’s mother raced across the road, cradling the child in her arms. It was a family reunion that none of the relieved onlookers could have imagined seconds ago. Chattman walked over to the body, oblivious to the congratulations of the crowd. Then he realised he had the answer to his earlier question. Death, terror and blood were all part of the average day in Armstrong.

  ****

  Taylor eyed up his captors as they led him into one of the many pre-fab buildings dotted about the camp. The men wore standard US Army fatigues and light order equipment, with black woollen watch caps. They had no divisional flashes or insignia of any type, except rank badges. It was clear this was no regular outfit; perhaps they followed another rule-book and perhaps that extended to prisoners. It would be a good idea if he played it smart until he could find what was going on.

  They marched him through a set of doors and stood silently as if on parade. Taylor looked about the plain wooden hut. A long table covered with a variety of maps and three plastic chairs occupied the area to his front. To his immediate left lay a second door. Apart from the two doors and small shuttered windows, there was no escape. One of the guards touched his earpiece, walked to the second door and beckoned Taylor to him. The guard pushed open the door, stepped back and ushered Taylor into a tiny room. A man dressed in Army fatigues stood with his back to Taylor looking at some papers on a desk.

  “Well, well, well. Look what the cat’s dragged in.”

  “J.J. King. I wasn’t expecting that.”

  The man turned to face Taylor and gave a wry smile. He was a tall man with dark, almost black eyes. “How long’s it been old sport? Two, three years?”

  “Just after Damascus, sport.”

  “That sure was a hell of a dust off.”

  King motioned to the guards. “I’ll call if I need you. Wait outside.”

  The soldiers left the room leaving the two men alone. King pointed to a vacant seat then pulling up a chair he sat down. Taylor looked at the chair for a moment then sat down.

  “So who you working for now; some kinda black ops CIA, NSA?”

  “Let’s just say I work for a government department.”

  “You running this then?”

  Taylor sat with his hands resting on his knees. It had been a long time since he’d last seen J.J King.

  “No. General Stone is the CO.”

  “Wasn’t he the guy at Mercy Creek?”

  King nodded and sat forward in his chair. “So how’d you enjoy Hill Billy land? Looks as if it was getting kinda rough down there.”

  “You left the cop channel open?”

  King smirked at Taylor. “We had to have some way of keeping an eye on them. The net is so slow up here it damn near runs in reverse. The rest was easy. Those idiots haven’t the faintest clue what the hell’s going on up here do they?”

  Taylor smiled. “This outfit’s kinda on the small side for an operation of this size, and that worries me.”

  “How come?”

  “Means if you lost control of the situation, then you don’t have enough manpower to deal with it. So you gotta have a plan ‘B’, right?”

  King gave a dry smile, slowly clapping his hands in mock applause.

  “Well you’re still as sharp as cheese wire old sport, but you’d have to ask the General about that. I’m just here to advise. However, I can tell you this; we’re now at Level Three Containment.”

  “Where’s Tellermine?”

  King shook his head and waved his finger at Taylor like a teacher.

  “Now that’s a mark off your score board. You already know where he is.”

  “Damn! It was the airbase after all. But it’s way too small I...”

  “What you expect, shiny windows and a ten foot sign? Armstrong was one of the backup bases if NORAD ever fell. That place goes down ninety foot and out for half a mile. There’s room for a whole regiment. Tellermine’s been down there for weeks.”

  “I thought he was closed down.”

  “Look you know how it is; things are never that simple. People had their eyes on ZerTon and when it imploded they had to shut that operation down. There’s so much tied up in all this, they gave him another chance.”

  Taylor’s face flushed with anger and he jabbed his finger at King.

  “He’s being bankrolled by the government?”

  “Not exactly. There are, shall we say, ‘interested parties’. They deemed the risk worthwhile but something happened down there and those things started popping up outside. People got nervous and, well you can guess the rest.”

  “What caused the breach down there?”

  “Not sure. We had a guy on the inside, said there’d been a fire and then we lost contact.”

  “Then you turned up and sealed the place. Why not just wipe the place out?”

  King got up from his chair, walked over to the map table, then turned back and sighed.

  “Things were done during Ebola that freaked people out. The last thing those up top wanted was a media circus here. So we isolated the town and sealed the base and reckoned that everybody down there would just die. What we didn’t reckon on was that they’d start showing up in town.”

  Taylor sat forward and dipped his head. “Yeah, real inconsiderate of them and so embarrassing too. But you got that covered right? What is it some low yield nuke?”

  “Oh come on Brent, give us some credit here. A nuke even up here is going to draw attention like a God damn smoky bonfire.”

  “Operation Bushfire. Sweet Lord.” Taylor brought his fingertips to his mouth. “I never really thought anyone would use that. On our own people.”

  King pointed to the map showing Armstrong encircled by a thick red ring.

  “The M900 is the latest thermobaric killing machine to roll off the conveyer. The press of a button and all our problems become dust in the wind. Simple as.”

  “What’s the trigger?”

  “Well sport, we’re there about now, I should think. If there were any cases from within the town, then Stone’s authorised to use the weapons. But thanks to the good Colonel Steedman, Stone decided to let it play out a while longer. See if the hillbillies can stop it themselves.”

  “Who’s Colonel Steedman?”

  “The second in command. A real pain in the ass. He’s got ‘principles’ and he’s gonna let that thing out if we ain’t careful.”

  “The ever compassionate Major King, I see.”

  “Nobody will thank us if that virus reaches a populated area. You ought to know that.”

  “You’ve turned over a new leaf or something. The last time we met, you were throwing peop
le off buildings.”

  King walked over to Taylor. “And how many people did I save by doing that? Including you as I recall?” He relaxed his attitude and continued. “And I’m going to do just the same this time too.”

  “Yeah, and how you gonna do that?”

  “Brent, they want to pull you in for some tests. Just a few, to make sure you’re okay. No need to worry. They just want to check you over, that’s all.”

  Taylor could feel the sweat form at the back of his neck.

  “Kinda nice of you.”

  “Some medical boys want to take a look at you.”

  “Well, as much as I appreciate your concern there JJ, I’ve already had my fill of medical tests...”

  “It’s out of my hands. Stone has a helio on a pad waiting. You’re leaving right now. I’m sorry there’s nothing I can do.”

  He lent forward and spoke softly, looking anxiously at the closed door.

  “It’s all up to you.”

  Then he shouted out to the escort in the next room.

  “Okay, Mr Taylor is ready to leave now.”

  The two guards entered the room and awaited orders.

  “Brent these guys will take you to the pad and then you get a free ride.”

  Taylor got up and walked towards the two other men then stopped and looked back at King.

  “You know what they’re going to do to me, right?”

  “Like I said, it’s all up to you.”

  Taylor and his escort left the room and walked down the short duckboard path into the fresh air. He drew in a long breath and surveyed the scene, then started moving forward with the two men. They placed themselves to his left and right. Taylor surmised from their relaxed manner and from the fact that their weapons were in safety mode, they weren’t expecting any trouble. The immediate vicinity was deserted expect for a cook throwing some food into a garbage bin.

  Taylor waited until the man had gone back inside the de-mountable and then made his move. He stopped abruptly, allowing the two men to draw parallel with each other, and then grabbed the men by their collars, violently cracking their heads together. Both men collapsed in a heap and Taylor ran for his life towards the fence. He jumped onto a Humvee parked nearby, clambered on the roof and leapt over the fence. He sprinted for the tree line and within seconds had disappeared from sight.

  ****

  Anne Lenski took a long hard look at herself in the station house rest room mirror. It seemed that whatever she tried with this virus, failed: people died… or worse. The only thing she could do was to make the victims comfortable and then watch them change. It was a cruel process; those infected went through great pain as the virus altered their bodies. Even when the transformation was completed the victim’s suffering was far from ended. They entered into living a nightmare. She didn’t even know if they were dead or alive. She closed the door and went out into the corridor.

  “Anne, Anne you alright?”

  She looked up through tear-blurred vision at Brad walking towards her. The last thing she wanted was for anybody to see her in this state, but she just couldn’t help it.

  “Brad I’m so sorry I just...”

  “Take it easy. What’s wrong here?” He held her head with both his hands and looked into her face.

  “Don’t look at me, I’m a damn mess.” She pulled her head to one side and brushed the tears from her cheek.

  “We’ve got to stay together in this...”

  “I’m not strong enough to cope with this. I can’t do it anymore.”

  Eastman fixed her with a firm stare. “Anne Lenski. You are one of the strongest people I ever knew. Sure this is tough and it’s likely to get a whole damn sight tougher. But people are looking to us to hold them together.”

  “Brad, I can’t fix this. I just can’t.”

  “But you can give them hope. And that’s all these people need right now.”

  “I can’t lie to them anymore. There is no cure for this!”

  Eastman took her arm. “Right now we got us a trickle of panic. If they think there’s no hope left, then we got us a tidal wave. Something got to give somewhere.”

  “Brad, I wish I had your confidence. But it’s going to take more than that.”

  “We will. Now what’s got all this started?”

  “I just got back from telling the Arcados their boy’s ‘turned’.”

  “Damn!”

  “That’s not all. We’ve another three confirmed infections. Things are getting out of hand.”

  Eastman briefly closed his eyes and gently shook his head. “Come on, we got a meeting with the Judge in my office. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

  He took her arm and led her the short distance to his office. She dried her eyes, looked at Eastman and smiled.

  “Let’s go kick his ass.” Eastman pushed his office door open. Judge Carmille was sitting behind Eastman’s desk, his glasses perched on the end of his nose and his hands clasped together. He had a look on his face that could have turned milk sour. Eastman touched the brim of his Stetson and looked at Carmille. “Judge.”

  “Sheriff, what in the hell happened out there today?”

  “We found Al Paxmore and...”

  “Tony Firth I’m talking about. What the hell were you doing up there in the first place?”

  Carmille’s face had turned crimson as he spat the words out.

  “It’s lucky he was up there or we might have had three Al Paxmores to deal with.”

  “I didn’t ask for your opinion, Doctor. This is police business.”

  “It’s not an opinion Judge, it’s an obvious fact.” Anne spoke in precise and deliberate tones as she addressed the Judge.

  “I believe you’re being impertinent madam, and I don’t much care for it.”

  “And I believe you are being chauvinistic and rude. And I don’t much care for that.”

  Carmille rose to his feet, his eyes narrowing into slits as he spoke from the side of his mouth.

  “I think it’s high time you left us.”

  “Doctor Lenski is a vital member of this town and I say who leaves my office or not, Judge.”

  Eastman’s tone was direct and demanding as he looked squarely at the other man.

  Carmille cleared his throat and moved to the other side of the desk, gesturing to the empty seat. Eastman looked at him and without a word, walked over to his chair and sat down.

  “We were up at Firth’s house because I received evidence that Peter Firth was supplying his brother medication. When we looked at the type, they were antibiotics and painkillers. The kinda DIY thing you’d expect someone to be treating individuals who didn’t want to go to hospital.”

  “What happened?”

  “Bridget and Conrad had already ‘turned’, Tony had them secured in the basement. They escaped – he didn’t have a choice.”

  “Why didn’t you stop him?”

  “Because he had the drop on me.”

  “And that’s what happened. You did not fire your gun?”

  Carmille leant forward in his chair as if to emphasise the urgency in his voice.

  “Who said other?”

  “Peter Firth’s been telling how you shot them all down.”

  “That’s a lie! I saw what happened, I was there.”

  “Doctor, you think I’m gonna take that low life’s word over Brad’s? But now there has to be an investigation. We have to follow due process.”

  “I don’t believe what I’m hearing. You want to investigate Brad over what that deadbeat says?”

  “It’s the law. Three people have been killed, there has to be an investigation. Brad knows the rules.”

  “Well damn the rules. We need him, now more than ever.”

  “I don’t come into your surgery and tell you how to give out pills. I don’t want you telling me how to do my job.”

  He pushed his glasses on top of his head and continued, “I said there has to be an investigation; I did not say right now.”

&
nbsp; “I...” Anne sat back, her embarrassment plain to see as her face coloured.

  “Okay. We need someone to lead the town.”

  The Judge scratched his head in thought. “Ed’s still on vacation. There isn’t anybody else.”

  “Great, where’s the Deputy Mayor when you need him? Still in Honolulu? There has to be someone in line.”

  “What about Veronica Redman, she’s on the Town Council? And she’s not one to sit about. She could do it.”

  “Yeah, Anne that’s a good idea and I...”

  Carmille raised his hands in the air, the look of exasperation clear on his face.

  “Hold up you two. We don’t want one of her kind running this town.”

  “When you say her kind do you mean female or gay?”

  “Doctor, all ‘that’ may be fine and dandy in the big towns but it’s got no place out here. You’d do well to remember that.”

  Eastman stood up making a ‘time out’ gesture and raised his voice above the other two. “Alright, alright! I don’t care if it’s a she, a he or she who thinks she’s a him or a him who thinks he’s a she. We gotta have somebody steering the damn canoe!”

  “Agreed. What’s your next move Brad?”

  Eastman looked over at Carmille relieved to have averted yet another argument.

  “It’s time to circle the wagons. We need to get all the homesteaders into town. All but two farms have agreed to come in. They’re the only people we’ve failed to get hold of.”

  “You think it could be trouble?”

  “I’ve sent Jed and some of the boys to look. I’m hoping they’ve got radio problems or they’ve just taken off. We need to barricade the town and stop those things getting in.”

  “Al Paxmore was already in town and look at the damage he did.”

  “Anne, everybody who’s been infected is accounted for. Al was already here.”

  “Brad, when you say ‘everybody who’s been infected,’ just how many people are we dealing with?”

  “Anne, do you want to take this?”

  “On top of the cases I already have, after this morning I’ve got an additional three confirmed positive results. That’s not including Tony Arcado; he ‘turned’ this morning.”