Containment_A Zombie Novel

by B. A. Hippsley

  “I’m not sure. I’m not even sure if this is a dream…”

  Tellermine thumbed through the pages in his file and looked at him.

  “You were infected by some of the TS’s. You’ve been recovering for the last ten days. To date all the infected TS’s have not lasted more than three days. Consider yourself lucky.”

  Vivid pictures of blood spattered corridors and creatures snapping at him scratched through Taylor’s head like broken glass. But try as he might, he was unable to salvage any further memories. All he knew was that he had to get more from this man.

  “Infected, infected with what?”

  “We can talk later.”

  Although Taylor felt like passing out, there was a lot more he needed to learn about what was going on in this madhouse.

  “I want to know right now! What happened to me?”

  “You really are very persistent. After your little visit things got a bit out of hand. Your own fault really, you were bitten by the creatures you released, passing the virus onto you.”

  “Where’d this bug come from?”

  “Really, such a short memory span. We developed... or tried to develop a cure for Diabetes. NB33, but after some early success all the TS transformed into the creatures you saw with the late, lamented Dr Lennox. You however, are the exception to the rule.”

  “What’s so special about me?”

  “As an individual absolutely nothing; you’re an exact replica of the rest of the dross out there. But medically...” Tellermine seemed to grow in stature as he went on, “You’re a marvel. A medical marvel. Imagine how astounded we were to discover that in order to beat the virus, your whole body chemistry altered itself.”

  “What do you mean my body chemistry’s altered? How the hell is that possible?”

  “I can see that you are not yet able to take all this in.”

  “Why am I still here if I’m cured?”

  Tellermine studied Taylor for a few moments, his bland eyes giving nothing away. “When a TS changes they become violent wild animals, in fact worse. They lose all

  powers of reason, attacking anybody near them. We’d never seen anybody go past the three day period so we could not take the chance with you.”

  “I can appreciate that, now what is a TS?”

  “Test subject.”

  “You mean the people from the NB33 tests.”

  Tellermine’s eyes narrowed as he peered at Taylor.

  “The original few yes. But we needed so much more. You see, once they’ve mutated they’re of no further use. We cannot communicate with them; all they want to do is kill. To understand this change you have to study normal cells. That means healthy subjects. So it’s vital to obtain constant supplies.”

  Taylor felt a sudden rush of nausea as he processed the information.

  “You deliberately infected ordinary people with the virus. Is that what you’re saying?”

  “You needn’t sound so surprised Mr Taylor. With all scientific advances comes sacrifice. Arguably, some sacrifice more. But now thanks to you, that could be a thing of the past.”

  “Tellermine, you’re the freaking original mad scientist.”

  “Mad? I don’t think you fully appreciate the unique position you’re in. I have hundreds of those useless failures in cages. I’ve had to use the homeless, illegal immigrants, and all manner of human dregs. But you Mr Taylor, you are invaluable to me. Working together we could accomplish great things.”

  The guy was a bigger loony tune than God damn Daffy Duck.

  “What if I don’t want to accomplish great things?”

  “There are many tests and questions I need to ask of you to narrow down the cause of your immunity. When I’ve established what that is, your blood will be used to develop a vaccine.”

  He leant over Taylor and stared directly into his face.

  “But you would do well to consider this; I only need your heart to supply the blood. If I so wish, I could stop your brain and lock you in hell for eternity.”

  Taylor felt a sharp sensation on the back of his hand and looked down to see a syringe being emptied slowly into a line in his arm. Instantly he began to experience a warm floating sensation. He tried to hold Tellermine in focus but his eyes felt like cinder blocks as he began his slow spiral into blackness.

  ****

  Dr Landon’s face was inches away from his own, as Taylor felt the other man tugging at his bonds.

  “Come on wake up we’ve got to get out of here!”

  “What’s..? What’s going on?”

  “I’m getting you out of here.” Landon threw some clothes at him. “Get changed into these. We don’t have much time.”

  With difficulty, Taylor sat up on the bed. This Landon guy seemed to be helping him escape but why? Could this be some kind of trick? Getting Taylor to think he needed this guy and allowing Tellermine to gain his trust? Melodramatic maybe, but nothing seemed beyond the realms of possibility.

  “Look Taylor, I gave you some shots, they should make you come around faster. But we’ve got to move.”

  Painfully slowly, almost in reverse, Taylor struggled to get into the change of clothes and discarded the grubby hospital gown. His legs trembled as he got to his feet holding firmly onto the bed frame. Then he noticed the bite marks on his wrist and shoulder. Painful memories seared his mind at the realisation of what had happened. It had all been real after all. Lennox, the creatures and the last ten days were all of it real.

  “Where we going?”

  Landon helped Taylor on with his boots. “Tellermine’s been busted. There are guys all over the place, arresting everyone in sight. He’s escaped with his team but they’re sending people for you. Now, no more questions. We have to go!”

  Taylor reached down and grabbed the other man’s collar. “Why should I trust you? You’re part of all this.”

  “Dr Lennox was one of the few people who knew we’d gone wrong. I only wish more of us had supported him.”

  “Sure? Look at all those people you got caged up.”

  “Becoming a test subject is one hell of a deterrent, Taylor. You want to stay here and wait to be captured that’s up to you. I’m off.”

  “Hold on here, if these guys are raiding Tellermine’s house of horrors that means they’re the good guys. Right?”

  Landon pushed Taylor’s hands away, straightened his shirt and got up, moving briskly towards the door.

  “Taylor, you’re a valuable commodity now. There are no good guys anymore. You’re on the market for the highest bidder. And everybody is a player. Now can we get the hell out of here?”

  He’d very few options open to him. If Landon was correct Taylor was now highly sought after. The thought of further tests did not appeal to him. The more distance he put between him and this place, the better.

  ****

  The brilliant morning sunshine glared in Taylor’s eyes, making them water as he followed Landon through the maze of buildings. Days of inactivity and sedation had taken their toll on him. Landon stopped and held up his hand and pointed around the side of a small outhouse.

  “There’s the gate house. Looks as though this lot have replaced all the ZerTon guys.”

  Taylor made out at least three men in suits standing around a stop barrier, near a black four-by-four Dodge. The distance to the parking lot where Landon’s car was parked was not too far from the gate. But even guys armed with pistols could make Swiss cheese out of a car at that range. Taylor hoped Landon had a plan that didn’t involve a suicide run.

  “Okay, what’s the plan?”

  “We grab my car and bust out of the gates.”

  Taylor stared back at him. “Great plan. Got another that doesn’t involve getting killed?”

  “The barrier is only made of wood; we can crash through that easily.”

  “Yeah, but guns, they shoot lead.” Taylor gave him a disapproving look.

  “Got any better ideas?”

  “There’s gotta be another way out of
this place. Think.”

  Landon looked at Taylor for a moment deep in thought. “Well there’s a service entrance, but that’s going to be guarded also.”

  “That’s gotta be better than this though, right?”

  Landon nodded his agreement.

  “My car’s the black BMW.” Landon pointed to the vehicle parked between a van and another car. “Keep low and we’ll use the other cars as cover.”

  “You’ve been watching too many movies. That’s my line.”

  Both men set off towards the car and as they drew near, Landon opened the car with a resounding bleeping sound. They halted abruptly as a harsh voice shattered the peaceful morning like a broken pane of glass.

  “Stand still!”

  They turned to see a man pointing his pistol directly at them, only a few yards away. The last thing Taylor wanted was to enter into a sprint, but there was no way he was going back. The choice was taken from him as Landon raced forward. Two shots hit their mark and the scientist pitched forward, falling between two cars. Taylor threw himself onto the tarmac and crawled to the fallen man as more shots rang out. Landon looked over at Taylor and gasped for air. “Take my keys, get out of here!”

  The man was dying. Bright red blood trickled from Landon’s mouth, forming a red patch on his jacket. Bright red blood was a sure indication of damage to a major organ. He had moments to live at best. Taylor reached down and took the keys from Landon’s already dead fingers. He paused briefly to shut the other man’s eyes, and then crawled to the car. He could hear the Dodge start up and drive towards them. As quietly as possible he opened the car door. It would be near impossible for the shooter to know which car was being used; at least that’s what he was betting on.

  As the man came into view, Taylor shot forward, knocking him high into the air. Then he swung the BMW into a semi turn of clouds of acrid smoke, heading for the gates. The vehicle shot forward as he aimed it directly at the two men in front of the barrier. Taylor braced himself for the bullets, but the two men jumped out of his path without firing a shot. Taylor careered through the open gates and disappeared out of the facility.

  ****

  Taylor knew he was working on borrowed time as he darted about his flat. It wouldn’t take long for them to realise who the escapee was and where he lived. Being in the service had taught him to be ready to deploy at a moment’s notice, meaning his essentials were always packed. He put his passport into the bag and his wallet with his credit card into his jacket. As he stuffed clean clothing into his holdall, he puzzled at how the men at the gate had allowed him to get away.

  He went into his bedroom and took his pistol from under the bed and placed it in the bag. Then he sat on the edge of his bed and thought about his next move. In effect there were two groups on his tail, neither with his best interests at heart. He needed to get out of town and the best person he could think of was Gary Richmond.

  Richmond could help him with a safe house, which would give Taylor some room to manoeuvre. But first he needed some cash. There was at least four thousand in his account – his emergency fund. He set about collecting various toiletries from the small black wall unit in his bathroom. Walking back into the living room he heard a loud squeal of brakes, followed by the slam of car doors. He raced to the window of his second story flat and looked out across the street; four men were pounding up the stairs to his building with weapons drawn.

  Taylor leapt back from the window, grabbed his bag and made towards the fire escape. He pulled open the window and studied the deserted back yard below. There was nobody about. Quickly, he hauled down the escape ladder and fled downwards to the ground.

  He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed for his ‘borrowed’ BMW. He’d parked the car out back, near the trash area to keep it from sight. He was delighted that no one had taken an unhealthy interest in the vehicle. He opened the door, started the engine and pulled out onto the main road. Luckily all the men had entered the house. He drove past his own car and turned onto the intersection, completely undetected.

  ****

  As Taylor cut through the rush hour traffic, he pondered about the people who’d raided his flat. There was some kinda power play going on between ZerTon and the unknowns who’d busted them; he was caught in the middle. Yes, the best plan was to get out of town, but with less than thirty dollars in change, he’d need money. There was an ATM at the corner of Jenkins and Dunbar; he’d get his money there. Leaving the car in the parking lot he crossed the crowded sidewalk, heading along Dunbar to the ATM. With his beard and baseball cap pulled down over his eyes, he looked every inch an ordinary guy, and no one paid him the slightest heed.

  Taylor fished the card from his jacket, inserted it in the machine and punched in the code. He waited as his request was processed and looked around him. It wouldn’t be wise to withdraw all his money; that might attract too much attention. After what seemed an age, he read the ‘unrecognised’ message in disbelief. Angrily, he jabbed the code in, over and over again. He checked the card, but it was perfectly fine.

  He cursed his luck, now he would have to visit the branch. It was somewhere he rarely went; online banking was so much easier. Frustrated, he put his card back in his wallet and walked the short distance to the bank.

  Taylor was in luck; for a Monday morning the place was pretty much deserted. After his brief stay behind a large woman with a yappy dog, he found himself at the counter. The bank teller was a pretty blonde, labelled Brooklyn. Where did people get the names for their kids, he pondered? Who the hell would want to name a kid after a damn bridge?

  “Good morning Sir. How may I help you?”

  The practiced sales prattle skipped from the branch girl, like the flat stones he used to throw in the river as a kid. Her blonde hair had an unnaturally smooth texture, flat ironed into submission.

  “I’ve just tried my card but the ATM says unrecognised.”

  “Do you have an account with us Sir?”

  He read the look of disdain on her face: another bum on welfare.

  “Yeah, Brent Taylor. I get my paycheque through on the twenty sixth of every month.”

  After a few moments the girl looked up from her computer screen with a frown. “Sorry Mr Taylor. I can’t find you on our system. Are you sure you’ve an account with us?”

  “I’ve used this bank for damn near seven years! You’d better check again.”

  “No need to raise your voice, sir. It’s not my fault.”

  Taylor was conscious of the unwanted attention from the security guard as she moved from the main door. The last thing he wanted was trouble. The woman looked like a Russian shot-putter. Taylor vigorously rubbed his hand across his mouth. “I’m sorry, but do you think you could try once more, please?”

  The teller gave the kind of look that went right through him. “This position is now closed. Have a nice day.”

  Her perfectly ironed hair bounced like a sheet on a washing line as she slammed down the shutter and switched on the ‘position closed’ sign. Furious, he rattled the shutter and yelled. “Hey. Hey! You still got my card. Hey!”

  Before he could protest further, two burly men in suits made their way towards him.

  Taylor looked at the space between the men and the door; just enough room, he thought. He did his best to avoid eye contact with them and casually walked to the door. At the last possible moment he turned as if to go in the opposite direction, then ploughed into the men and raced out of the door.

  ****

  Taylor sat waiting for the lights to change to green. Who were these people that could cancel his account? Not just cancel it but erase it completely! Whoever they were, they were only one step behind him. He disliked being predictable, but he had no choice. Richmond was his only chance – he’d have to help. He glanced at the green holdall next to him; hardly enough for a long vacation but it would have to do.

  He’d been tempted to call Richmond on the phone but after the ATM it was obvious they were tracking him. A car
horn sounded behind him, making his blood boil. His patience was as thin as a New York fashion model. He shot forward and then swung left; he’d soon be outside the office. His jaw dropped at the sight in front of him.

  The road was blocked by emergency vehicles and Richmond’s once plush office and the buildings either side had been replaced by smouldering ruins. He went to investigate and was soon mingling with the other onlookers. The place looked like a war zone. He pushed his way towards the yellow and black police tape and stood directly behind a policeman.

  “Hey officer, what happened here?”

  “They reckon it was a bomb – who knows?”

  “They pull anybody out yet?”

  “Yeah sure, but they all going one way – to the town morgue.”

  The man looked over his shoulder but Taylor had already gone.

  Things were going down hill fast as each door of possibility shut in his face. These people were playing for keeps. He had to come up with a plan ‘B’ if he wanted to stay ahead and alive. As he squeezed through the throng, his heart sank. A group of smartly dressed men were clustered around his car. Unobserved, he swiftly melted back into the mass of people; time was running out on him.

  ****

  “Hello? Hello? Look if this is one of those calls..?”

  “Jane, please don’t hang up.”

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s me. Brent.”

  “You certainly got the wrong number. There is nothing I want to say to you.”

  Even after six months he could detect the hostility in her voice. But she was his only remaining hope.

  “Listen Jane, I know you’re still mad at me but...”

  “Mad at you. Why you...”

  “Look I’m in deep trouble and you’re my last chance. Please.”

  It had been years since he’d needed to use a call box. He twitched his nose; he’d about forgotten how disgusting they could be. He rubbed his scraggy beard; he looked about as bad as he smelt. At long last he heard the voice at the other end.

  “Brent, you had nothing to do with Richmond’s office, did you?”