by Ts Alan
The
Romero
Strain II
The Dead, the Damned, and the Darkness
TS Alan
AuthorHouse™
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© 2017 TS Alan. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Published by AuthorHouse 11/10/2017
ISBN: 978-1-5462-1471-7 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-5462-1469-4 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-5462-1470-0 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2017916518
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Artwork by Ihor Reshetnikov
Contents
PROLOGUE
PART I: The Dead
1 - The Fighting Irish
2 - Ryan’s Hope
3 - Lock, Stock and Barrel
4 - For a New Life Bound
5 - Call of the Wild
6 - The Superior Man
7 - Down a Rabbit Hole
8 - A Cry in the Wilderness
9 - Guardian of the Fallen
10 - The Lieutenant of Inwood
11 - The Greenhouse
12 - Mommy’s Little Monster
13 - Wei Ji
14 - Stone Cold
15 - Supporting the Sword
16 - FOB MEDCOM
17 - Bigtree and Lott
18 - Chain of Command
19 - Marauders
20 - A Little Night Music
21 - Enemy Mine
22 - Norrie-Mills
23 - Barkley’s Big Adventure
24 - Hunter and the Hunted
25 - The Girl in the Shadows
26 - A Half-mute Never Forgets
PART II: THE DAMNED
1 - Exposition
2 - Piano Girl
3 - Know Your Enemy
4 - Good and Bad Cats
5 - Haunter of the Dark
6 - Lager Lout
7 - Way of the Little Dragon
8 - Commander! My Commander!
9 - In a Mirror, Darkly
PART III: THE DARKNESS
1 - Tattoos & Scars
2 - Borstal Breakout
3 - Fury of the Dragon
4 - Dark Places
5 - A Long Journey into Day
6 - Good Night New York
7 - Dead Reckoning
8 - Operation Spoiled Brat
9 - The Future is Unwritten
EPILOGUE
About the Author
In Memoriam
Herbert Smith
(1953 – 2012)
Special thanks to Paul and Kevin
“That which is abnormal to nature is a monster…”
-Dean Koontz, Frankenstein: City of Night
PROLOGUE
Aftermath
For paramedic J.D. Nichols and his dog Max, April 8th started out as any other day with an early morning walk along the streets of the Lower East Side. Nevertheless, that morning was not to be an uneventful beginning to another day.
Unbeknownst to the residents of New York City, a highly virulent pathogen based on a rare human receptor gene and owl DNA had escaped the night before from a Department of Defense Biosafety Level-4 complex located under the lowest level of Grand Central Terminal. By morning, the virus had spread over the city infecting many of its sleeping inhabitants. Within a few weeks, most of the world’s population would become infected and turned into the living dead or mutated humans.
Coming to the aid of a girl named Marisol, J.D. quickly realized her pursuer was no mere crazed person. Fleeing to a nearby power facility for help, they soon found themselves being chased into the service tunnels and through the city’s underground by an undead horde. Along their subterranean flight, they gathered other survivors, and attempted to make it to Grand Central Terminal, where J.D. believed help would be found. However, their hopes quickly ended when J.D. was bitten and they discovered Grand Central had been overrun with the undead.
Knowing he had limited time to help his fellow survivors, J.D. struggled to find a safe haven for his companions. In their search they stumbled upon an enigmatic scientist named Richard France, who had become disoriented in the labyrinth of service tunnels underneath the terminal. With some coercion from J.D., France divulged he had fled a secret government bio lab known as the Grand Central Complex (GCC).
When the true nature and scope of the Trixoxen virus was revealed, J.D. learned that genes linked to his Irish ethnicity would either save him from becoming one of the undead or more likely cause him to mutate into what Doctor France called a transmute, one of the very creatures that forced the doctor from his lab.
With no food, little water, and no place to go, the group made a risky decision to access the complex using the unwilling aid of the doctor. Driven to save his companions before he mutated, J.D. made a bold move and entered the complex alone. What he discovered inside made him question everything France had revealed, and his discovery was enough to put his mutation into remission.
When France finally divulged what truly happened in the underground complex, the group was relieved to hear that the living dead would eventually perish, and they would be able to return to the surface, if they could co-exist with a new breed of humanoid—transmutes—that would inhabit the world above.
As the last of the living dead began to perish and the group’s resources were nearly depleted, the survivors made the decision to seek another sanctuary. Finding a new refuge at the 69th Regiment Armory, on Lexington Avenue between 25th and 26th Streets, the group hoped to begin again, but the human race proved itself to be the greatest monstrosity of them all.
PART I
The Dead
1
The Fighting Irish
The commander’s office was a room lined with 69th Infantry relics dating back to the Civil War. It was also a room stained with blood. The corpse of Colonel Walter Travis sat slumped in a chair. He had shot himself in the head, but as J.D. Nichols rolled the colonel away from his desk, he had no idea why.
J.D. looked down at the desk. Next to a half full bottle of Irish whiskey and a dirty glass etched with the unit’s insignia were two printed papers that had been neatly placed side by side. The one to the left was dated 08 April 2014, and was a two-page document. The other dated 09 April 2014, wasn’t even a full page. J.D. picked them up and began to read. They were operational reports on the letterhead of the HHC Rear, 1/69th Infantry (M), 3rd BDE, 42nd ID. Besides both reports being detailed and detached they contained information about the timing of the military’s response to the outbreak. On the morning of the outbreak the U.S. Army Medical Command (MEDCOM) had declared a FPCON Delta for Grand Central Terminal at 8:00 a.m., at which time the 69th had been
put on alert but not yet called to the armory for active duty. J.D. was well aware of why MEDCOM had been the ones to declare the force protection condition instead of the City of New York. By announcing they had received highly credible intelligence that a bioterrorism attack on Grand Central Terminal was imminent, the military could proclaim it their jurisdiction, and seal off the area and send in their Special Ops Rangers without raising suspicion to the true nature of their mission. The revelation of this fact neither surprised nor shed any new light upon what J.D. already knew. The military’s mission to contain and cleanse the true threat that was below Grand Central in a secret government bio lab had failed. Their experimental virus had gotten out and spread across parts of Manhattan hours before their containment undertaking had even started. Realizing it was too late, MEDCOM then attempted to find an antiviral to stop its spread but they couldn’t. A zombie apocalypse ensued and humanity lost. As J.D. read through them, he discovered why Colonel Travis might have committed suicide. However, there was no entry in the operational report that stated it was the reason for his fatal self-inflicted gunshot wound.
As he reached for a small diary-like notation book, his companion Max let out a sigh of boredom. J.D. looked to his German shepherd and said, “I know you’d rather be searching the building, but this is important. All right?” Max made no comment but instead laid on the floor, putting his head upon outstretched front legs, and then closed his eyes.
J.D. sat on the edge of the desk and paged through the hard cover journal. It was Walter Travis’ personal account of the events at the Lexington Avenue armory during the first days of the viral outbreak.
April 8, 2014 - This morning at 1000 hours, Companies A and E were called to active duty in regard to a potential biohazard threat. The threat turned out to be an infectious disease of unknown origin. Once again the men under my command have been called upon to manage re-supply for food, drinking water, and health and comfort items to our troops on the eastside of the city, along with the armory being purposed as a secondary MEDCOM—designated FOB MEDCOM Bravo —because of our hospital facilities. Seven of my men, including my friend First Lieutenant James Alexander—who I spoke with at 1300 hours and had stated was on 23rd Street and 10th Avenue—have not reported for duty. I have been unable to contact any of them as of late this afternoon.
The first incident of the infected attacking without warning was a shock to us. We had heard rumors and radio reports early on that the dead were coming back to life and eating the living, but we felt that was mass hysteria. None of us realized how true it was until our own sick started dying and coming back to life. With a heavy heart I issued an order to shoot those who succumb to the infection, this after several troops who were classified as deceased by medical staff abruptly came back to life and attacked them. We discovered the only way to stop them was by bullets to their heads.
***
It is 1700 hours as I begin this update. Medical, food, and water supplies started arriving by 1330 hours and continued for about two hours. Weapons and ammunition arrived last. A few unusual items arrived with these including several flamethrowers. By mid-afternoon the 642nd Engineer Support Company had completed its mission objective of erecting razor wired perimeter fencing and perimeter lighting.
Shortly thereafter encounters with the infected dead became more frequent until it culminated with a group overrunning the afternoon watch assigned to outer perimeter defenses. The entire squad was killed.
I have been to war and have heard the screams and cries of the injured and dying. But what I have experienced today, of my men, my colleagues, my friends, being ripped apart in such a savage manner was horrifying, and frightens me more than any battlefield I ever fought on.
After reporting the loss of my men to command, they ordered me to abandon further watches outside the fence and gave orders only to shoot to kill if I felt the security of the base was a risk. By 1630 hours those rules of engagement were upgraded giving us authorization to open fire under the widest possible circumstances, permitting unrestricted shoot to kill in order to protect the integrity of the armory.
I ordered the placement of gunners on the roof to aid in eliminating any further threat to our welfare. However as soon as we kill the infected dead that approach the fence, others quickly take their places. There is now a continual flow of what my soldiers are calling zombies. Their corpses are now stacking up along the fence line. I do not know if these “zombies” are truly the living dead or not, but if they continue to grow in number, I fear bullets will not be able to stop them from breaching the fence.
A side note: James and the other six men who did not report to duty are unreachable. God protect them.
***
It is evening, around 1900 hours as I write this. Many of my men have contracted the virus. Several men close to me, whom I have served with for many years, have already perished. I fear it will not be long for me either. I believe I am infected. If our NBC protection gear had arrived earlier instead of arriving with the 548th CSB perhaps most of my men would not have become infected. We are placing our dead in the facility’s basement, though as of now I believe no one shall ever find these heroic men and give them a proper burial.
***
It is nearly 2300 hours as I write this journal entry. Complete quarantine of the five boroughs was initiated earlier this afternoon, but I fear it has come too late. MEDCOM HQ has informed me that many of the city’s PODs, and the Park Avenue Armory, have been lost. Our position has also been compromised for a second time. At approximately 1840 hours the infected dead began attempts at breaching the security fencing. I addition to live fire, I gave orders to use flamethrowers to hold back the horde. Shortly afterward the commander of the 3-2 Stryker Brigade Combat Team, which is supporting our security efforts along our perimeter fencing, informed me that they have now gone through half of their ammunition supply. Shortly after 1900 hours it was evident these measures were in vain. I ordered the perimeter lighting to be disconnected and rigged to the fencing in hopes this would dissuade further attempts at entering the compound. However this did not deter the infected dead; the electrified fence seemed to enrage the hordes that are determined to enter. Moments after electrifying the fencing they were able to rip the entrance gates down and enter the inner perimeter. Nothing seems to stop their determination at destroying us. By the time my men had begun to secure the first set of heavy wooden entrance doors, the infected dead had set upon them. I was forced to sacrifice two of my men by locking them out in order to secure the inner doors before the infected dead could gain entry. My men pleaded with me to save them but there was nothing I could do but stand in the hallway and listen to their screams while being devoured. Their cries were unsettling and still disturb me.
Efforts by MEDCOM HQ to develop an antiviral to combat the disease have not happened and time is running out to save the city. The depth of this epidemic is catastrophic. The infected dead are killing and eating the living. Soon there will be no one to save or a reason for a cure.
Command first informed me that withdrawal of military personnel would commence at 0600 hours tomorrow if a cure was not found by then. Shortly thereafter command changed that order and informed me that no new intakes were being allowed into Madison Square Garden and that the base was being sealed off due to the overwhelming number of the “undead” they have been incurring. The situation was becoming dire and all positions in New York would have to be abandoned. Withdrawal of MRIID and CDC personnel would begin at 0200 hours and that personnel under my command were to report to the main command base. When they heard that the undead had overrun our outer defenses and it would be impossible for us to rendezvous, they agreed to an airlift by helo from the roof. I was given orders to make sure only those who were uninfected were ready for transport. I was ordered to shoot all personnel who were infected to ensure no problems with the exfil.
I cannot and will not with good conscience order m
y soldiers to kill one another unless they have succumbed to the virus. The fate of the remaining ill shall be in the hands of God, not in the hands of man. I will, however, ensure the safe withdrawal of all remaining uninfected. I have sent Staff Sergeant Becker and a fireteam up to the third floor to seal the hospital wing and eliminate any threat before sending my remaining uninfected to the roof, and instructing them that they have authorization to secure the roof with any means necessary in order to guarantee their safe evacuation. Several of my soldiers who have contracted the disease are not showing characteristic symptoms. The virus seems to be affecting them differently. Before Doctor Harlonson became ill, he told me he believed it was a mutation. Corporal Reilly and Private Harrington are experiencing changes in their skin color and texture, which is beginning to become leathery and grey in tone. There is also significant change happening in their eyes and, after losing their ears, they have grown smaller ones with slightly larger canals. They are also showing signs of severe aggravation and light sensitivity. They have been isolated in a room to themselves under armed guard, sedated, and secured to their beds.
Though all vehicle, train and plane transportation in and out of the five boroughs had been restricted early on in order to contain the viral spread, it appears this quarantine has indeed come too late. News reports from around the world indicate major outbreaks in many countries throughout Eastern Europe and South America as well as the United Kingdom, Ireland, France and Canada. The CDC has classified it as a Category 5 Pandemic for the United States, projecting that the virus without interventions will lead to an extinction level event.
A great deal of the city’s electrical grid has failed. We are equipped with three backup generators to run our electrical needs. However we are limited to the amount of diesel we have stored in the basement. There is a refuel truck outside, but even if we could get to it I don’t think it will matter. There may be no one living here in a few hours that will need its use.