“Well, if they're dead, it wasn't because of you. If Hayes collected all those people, and killed them, that's on him.” She turned so she could look directly at him. Her pretty green eyes were the usual distractions. “You've had a lot of things go wrong since we met up. Believe me, I know. But you have to stay focused on what you can control. You can't take responsibility for what other people are doing in a world gone insane...I need you...to stay strong, so I can be strong with you. That's how we're going to survive this thing. And besides, you've had a lot of things go right, too...”
She gave him a wide smile, missing tooth and all.
They held hands throughout the rest of the fifteen-minute ride. The big truck easily punched through the wrecks and debris littering the highway, had no issues avoiding any of the pedestrians—some living, some dead. A short distance from the front gate of the elk preserve the MRAP pulled over and stopped.
From up front, Mel said, “You guys might want to see this. I think we found some of your friends, Liam.”
He moved to the front of the cab. Just off the side of the road a dozen or so elderly people were piled in a ditch. Even from this vantage point it was clear many had been shot, several had clothes stripped from them as if they'd been the victims of looters. As best he could tell, none of them had become zombies.
Everyone in the cab observed the scene in silence for a minute or so. Liam made sure Mr. Lee got a good look.
Victoria took a peek too. “Do you think Hayes did this?”
“I thought he was capable of anything, but this?” He felt his emotions welling up. “There could be no legitimate reason to kill innocent men and women like this. They may not have had much of a chance given their age and supplies, but they hardly made it a hundred yards from where I'd last seen them. I don't know. Maybe.”
“Could someone have been waiting for them to walk away from you?” Phil asked.
Ahead, the gate to St. Louis County Lone Elk Park beckoned them to search for answers.
3
The front gate to the elk preserve was exactly as Liam remembered it. When the military evacuated after the containment failure siren went off, they rammed through the closed metal gate. They couldn't be bothered to open it so it could be re-used later if needed. Liam figured if he was in the military and had every available resource, a simple elk pen would seem pretty expendable. To civilians like him though, having a strong fence around your survival camp would be a godsend. Maybe it would be worth fixing at some point.
The MRAP proceeded in. The pavement was narrow for the big truck, but with no traffic, people, or zombies, it wound through the park for only a few minutes. On a low hill overlooking a small lake they observed the remains of the huge olive green tents of the government research facility.
Everyone gathered near the front while Mel narrated, “The planes did a number on the place to be sure, but they weren't very thorough. Most of the tents are down, but not all of them. Even those on the ground look like they were blown down by the compression of the bombs, rather than direct hits. We might actually find something here.”
They did a better job bombing my house. How nice of them.
“OK everyone. Be careful out there. Might be unexploded bombs laying around.” Mel said it, saw everyone looking at her, and continued, “Really, I have no idea. Bombs aren't my area of expertise. Just seems like prudent advice.”
She and Phil shared a knowing laugh.
They all exited through the front of the truck, and spread out in their search. Victoria and Liam went in the direction of the remaining big tent. He told her it was the tent where he'd seen the experiment, and where the colonel became infected. Essentially it was ground zero for the destruction of the whole place.
“What do you expect to find here? Are you looking for something in particular?”
“I'm not sure myself. All the medical testing that went on here had to have generated some paperwork. Some clues as to what this virus is all about. What caused it. Why it spawns zombies. But the troubling thing to me—besides the government bombing my neighborhood and stealing my grandma—
“—and shooting your girlfriend!” she interjected with a smile.
“—and shooting my girlfriend, is the fact there didn't appear to be any answers here. The colonel may have known more than he let on, but I was there when he died. His last words weren't about the virus, they were about how much he loved his family. He gave me the photograph so I'd know them if I ever met them. If he had any clue how to stop this thing, wouldn't he have given it to me?”
“That makes sense.” She was a little bit ahead when she stopped and turned around. She looked like she was about to say something when she swayed like the world was tipping. Liam would have rushed to help her but he felt the same effect. Liam's mind raced through a series of images, settling on a view over a city as if he were high up, looking out a window. Then, nothing.
They were both were on the ground when they came to. None of the others were in sight, meaning no one likely saw what had happened. Victoria sat up as Liam pushed himself off the ground and dusted his creek-stained jeans and his dark “Vote Roland” t-shirt.
“What the hell just happened? Did we both fall down at the same time?”
“It looks that way. And I had the strangest visions as I stood there—”
“A city?”
“How'd you know that? Was that some kind of shared vision?”
Liam looked around; imaginary sensors scanning for solutions. Nothing was obviously out of place. No projectors. No mind-control orbs. His mind searched for science fiction explanations, but there was nothing there but the semi-perforated tent and lots of debris.
He helped her up, noticing once again how her pretty eyes offset the bruises, black eyes, broken nose, and missing tooth. He was momentarily happy to be with her, no matter how much destruction was around him.
“What?”
“I'm smiling because you make me happy. But also, I don't know, that vision made me feel happy, too. Reassured in some way. I can't explain it.”
“Hmm. I see what you mean.” She smiled as she held his hand. “Like we can do anything when we're together. Like we have to do something together.”
I wonder if she is talking about...
Liam stood there with a dumb look on his face. Not sure what to say next.
“No, dummy. Get the dirty thoughts out of your head.” She smiled broadly as she continued, “I'm talking about something really important. Like saving Grandma. Saving the world.”
That brought him back down to reality.
“Of course! Yes, that's why we're here. I was totally thinking the same thing.” They laughed, and Liam admitted it gave him the strength he needed to lead her into the tent. She stayed close.
He acknowledged again how much better he felt to have her by his side.
The zombie apocalypse would be so much worse if I was on my own.
He knew how it felt; he went a long time thinking she was shot dead. Now it was like she was reborn.
4
The tent was dark, but not a consuming darkness. The bright of the day seeped in at various points, including the many holes from the shrapnel; they provided enough light to see most of the interior. Liam tied off the flap so the door would provide light even as they went deeper inside.
He knew the front room was the reception area, devoid of anything interesting. He jumped when he saw what looked like a hand reaching under the tent in the corner, but it was his overactive imagination. He pushed the flap into the middle chamber—where he expected to find the table where the old man was strapped down. But when he entered the space, he could tell the man was no longer in the operating theater. Even in the reduced light he could see there were no bodies nearby. He'd just vanished.
Impossible. He was shot in the head.
He searched his memories. The last time he'd been here, the colonel took him into the woods to show him the secret of this camp. The special flavor of zombie
they'd found. Was there something special about the man he knew was 106 years old? A man who had died in front of his eyes several days ago?
He spoke to lessen his anxiety. “Did I ever tell you what they kept hidden out in the woods of this camp?”
“You said the Air Force bombed the camp itself and a pit where they dumped all the bodies.”
“Ah, that's true. There was a big pit. They dumped a bunch of old folks after they pumped them full of zombie blood to see what happened to them. But the other thing in the woods was a corral with two zombies the colonel said were from Chicago. They had a special skill, I guess you'd call it. They could climb.”
“Wow. That's huge. It means even a fenced in place like this wouldn't be safe.”
Crap! I hadn't thought of that.
“Um, true. But also it implies there are even more kinds of zombies out there. The man they had in this operating suite was 106, but he acted strange when he was infected. He spoke in a strange language. The last thing he said was that he was sorry and—” Liam tried to remember the sequence of events, “And then he purposely and calmly bit the colonel. The colonel then calmly shot the old man and walked out the door.”
“It sounds like it was scripted, Liam, now that you say it like that.”
“The only thing the medical team could say about that was they could have saved the camp if they had immediately killed the colonel. Like it happened every day with them. Looking back, it seemed an odd thing to say.”
“But if the colonel wanted to destroy the camp, why the complexity? He could have just let any old zombie loose, run the siren, and then he'd still be alive.”
“I don't know. All I know is he set things in motion when he left the tent, then the camp cleared out surprisingly fast—minus the test subjects. They left them for dead. It was just me, the colonel until he shot himself, and the elderly test subjects in the end...”
Liam stood there for a few moments, lost in thought. Victoria paced around, thinking out loud. “So the camp cleared out, including the people who wanted the colonel dead. Didn't you say he gave you a picture of his family? Did it have any clues on it? Can I see it?”
Liam kept it in his front pocket, though he didn't readily know how long he expected to carry it around. It was a five-by-seven inch photograph showing the man's wife and son. The boy was about Liam's age, at least at the time the photo was taken. On the back, written on a white mailing label, was an address. He said it was the address of his wife. He handed it to Victoria.
“I don't see any clues on this, other than the address of his family. Maybe they know something, but it will be a while before we go to Colorado to ask them.”
Victoria held the photo in her hand. She moved closer to a notch in the canvas so she'd have more light. She ran her fingers over the paper. She looked at it from multiple directions. Then, she held it up to the daylight, as if looking at an x-ray.
“Hey! There's something under this label. It's a tiny square of some kind.”
She handed it back, and sure enough he saw it too. He had completely overlooked the label, as it was white and appeared to be a convenient way to write on the back of the glossy photo paper. The square wasn't any bigger than his pinky fingernail, and it was hard to see with the writing on the paper and the fact the whole thing had been folded several times.
“Now that I see it, I know what it is. This is a micro memory card. With the proper adapter it fits into a computer port so it appears like a small hard drive. I use these a lot to transport files to and from school. If we were at Grandma's I'd even be able to put this in my computer. Currently, I have no way to read it.”
“OK, this is something. He knew it was important but he didn't tell you about it. Was he hoping you were just a nice guy and you'd travel across three states to deliver an old photo to his family? Are they expecting this to show up one day?”
“At this point I don't even know what I know. He did mention he couldn't trust me.” After a brief pause, he continued his line of thought. “This changes my whole interaction with him. I need some time to figure it out. Let's keep this between us for now. He entrusted this to me, and I entrust it to you, but I don't want anyone else to feel obligated to keep this secret. At least not until we know more. He said there were other groups out there...one of which caused the whole thing. I wish I could ask him.”
5
“Liam! Victoria!” They looked at each other, then moved for the door out of the tent. Mel, Phil, and Bo jogged their way.
“We found something you should see.”
Mel and Phil each carried a messy stack of papers, as if they'd been laying on the ground. Bo was carrying just one. “Here you go, Liam. You should read this.”
Liam took the paper, scanned it, then said, “I knew it. This is it.” He began reading, “To Colonel McMurphy. From CDC Mobile Headquarters, Black Mountain, NC. In response to your request for information on the mission of our Forward Operating Group in St. Louis, I can only express my utmost confusion at your insinuation our team is lying to test subjects about the survivability of their experiments. Kidnapping subjects would never be a procedure we could condone. Furthermore, we currently have no teams within 250 miles of St. Louis. Our nearest teams are in Minneapolis and Denver. We have no record of anyone named Douglas Hayes on staff, though I admit HR has been hit or miss since this outbreak began six weeks ago. I'm sure you understand. Good luck out there. —Felicia Iminez, Deputy Director, CDC Operations.”
Mel added, “This was actually sitting in the tray of a fax machine lying on the ground. It must have arrived very near the end of this place. We picked up as many documents as we could find, though we have no way of knowing if any of them are of any use.”
“We also pocketed some bottled waters and a handful of fruit that survived the bombing. It was a cruel joke, but the tent closest to the bombs was the camp's kitchen and food storage. Almost nothing of value survived.”
Liam looked up at Mel. “Thank you. Thank you guys for coming with me to find this. At least we know something more about Hayes.”
She replied, “He may not be with any agency, or maybe he is. Hard to say. There are literally hundreds of agencies involved in health these days. Maybe he figured it was easier to just say he was with the CDC, since everyone recognizes that.”
Phil carried on, “But what agency could it have been? We know he had access to air power, helicopters, soldiers or men pretending to be soldiers, and he fit into this camp as if he owned it. That sound about right, Liam?”
“I guess—”
Bo racked a round into his shotgun. He looked into the nearby woods. Liam's eyes followed. Things were moving there.
“Time to go folks!” Phil took off for the MRAP. Mel kept pace.
Liam surveyed the camp, wondering what they were leaving behind. He noticed a zombie as it clawed out from under a part of the tent they'd just vacated. It was badly burned, with tattered medical clothing, and it was bathed in dirt and mud as if it had been buried. Not hard to imagine with all the craters near the tents. He ran with Victoria as other infected emerged from around the edges of the forest.
Bo trailed, but stopped a few times to check the pursuit.
Liam jogged past the small tent where he and Grandma spent a little time on their last visit. It was blown over, but not destroyed. He knew the place where the colonel had shot himself was nearby, but his body was nowhere to be seen. It was gone, just like the older man's body on the operating table. The force of the blasts must have been powerful.
Everyone made it safely to the truck. Once inside, they could see the zombies wandering into the camp. Liam took a hard look at them, concluding they could only have come from the big pit in the woods where bodies were dumped after the experiments. He struggled to remember if the bodies had all been shot in the head before they were placed in their grave, but at the time he wasn't curious about the pathology of their deaths.
The MRAP growled to life and weaved through wreckage on the
way out of the destroyed camp.
Colonel. If you're out there. I'll try to find your wife and son. I renew my promise to you.
6
The trip back to camp was mostly uneventful. They retraced their route, and knew what to expect. They did see a single motorcycle pass them, going the other direction on the highway. Mel called them up from the back compartment when she saw it coming their way. It was the first motorized vehicle they'd seen—aside from their own—in a long time. The rider made no effort to stop or slow down or otherwise acknowledge them. Liam didn't blame anyone for not stopping for the military.
Liam, Victoria, and Bo returned to the back and tried to look through the remaining stack of papers. They hoped to find something useful before they arrived back at the Boy Scout Camp.
After several minutes, Victoria found a short note directed to the camp from a Homeland Security department. It was an authorization for Douglas Hayes to continue his research at the camp, including his methods for subject acquisition. Furthermore, it listed him as Doctor Hayes.
“Well, don't that beat all. He said he was just a truck driver for the CDC.”
“Liam, he still might not be a doctor. Nothing about the man should be taken as fact. Maybe he sent this himself?”
One of Liam's earlier self-revelations was that once the zombie apocalypse befell mankind, a person looking to reinvent himself would have no problems doing so. You could erase your past and become practically anything, as long as you had the practical skill to fake it. You couldn't say you were a doctor and expect to get away with it. The first time you had to make a diagnosis it would become obvious. But a doctor would have no problem pretending to be a truck driver, especially in a world where trucks were scarce. The only question was why.
Stop the Sirens: Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Book 3 Page 8