Omega Virus (Book 1): Beta Hour

by Jake A. Strife

  I lifted my combat rifle and fired. The gun had more of a kick than I expected, causing me to miss terribly. It turned to look at me with lifeless eyes. Bracing myself, I aimed again, but it burst into a sprint right for me; another Lv03!

  My gun went off, and I ended up spraying the walls and ceiling. Several shots hit the Lv03 in the chest, garnishing sprays of blood, but it couldn't go down from torso wounds. I backed up, continuing to fire, trying to keep the gun aimed at the head. It didn't work. When the undead came within a foot, I cracked it under its chin. It flipped off of its feet and landed hard on its back, snapping its spine. The Lv03 gnashed its teeth at me, and I shoved the gun in its mouth letting its teeth shatter on the steel.

  “Screw you, asshole.” I fired, and its blood splattered the floor.

  Grandson couldn’t have gone that way if there were Corpses, so I began to turn when more groaning came from around the corner. My jaw fell slack, as a dozen or more Lv03s ran at me, arms flailing. My legs went into overdrive, and I ran as fast as I could, pumping each step with every ounce of strength I had.

  I ran so fast I skidded into the corner turn, bounced back, and continued my wild escape. The Corpses smashed into the wall as well, but they too bounced and kept coming.

  “Crap! Crap-Crap-Crap!” I cried.

  Spotting a door, I ran faster. It looked like the one in the conference room. Hoping it would open, I kept running, and I slammed into it full-speed. Stumbling back, I faced the army of Corpses. I fired off several rounds before regaining my footing and continuing to run. I needed to find that lab.

  At the end of the next section sat another set of steel doors, with no other way out. My life depended on these being unlocked. Bloody spittle hit the back of my neck as the Lv03s closed in. The doors were only several paces away.

  “Please-please-please!” I shouted as I made my final push.

  They slid open, but I ran into a problem, literally. A militant stepped out of the elevator. He saw me coming but didn’t have time to react as I skidded past, and hit the close button. He futilely fired his rifle, and I saw no more of him as the doors closed, and the wave of Corpses crashed upon him. His death scream echoed outside. I sighed in relief and punched the top floor button; if they were exiting from above, it had to be from a helicopter.

  Leaning against the elevator wall, I tried to catch my breath. I didn’t have much time. When the doors to the fourth floor opened, I faced another hall, this one empty. A directory plaquered on the wall listed laboratories; Genetics, Thanatology, and finally Virology in room 404! I glanced up at the closest room number; 400. A quick count of the rooms and I spotted 404 just halfway down the hall.

  I jogged down the hall and came to a stop before the Virology Lab. A large glass window provided a vantage point to the room. I put my back to the wall and leaned over to peek. There stood two people, the black-cloaked Grandson, and the white-coated Dr. Belmont.

  They were scooping items off a desk and into a pair of briefcases. When they were full, they snapped the cases shut and turned to walk to the door. My chance had come. The door slid open, and I came face to face with them. Shock nearly knocked me over. I ignored Dr. Belmont, but I stared at Grandson who stared back at me with equally wide eyes.

  “You!” Grandson cried. “Who are you? How have you stolen my face?”

  We didn't just look a little alike, he was I or was I he? We were identical in every physical aspect.

  I snapped up my rifle. “You stole my face!”

  “What kind of game are you playing Doctor?” Grandson turned on Belmont.

  The scientist shook his head fervently and held up his hands. “This isn’t my doing!”

  “More of your goddamn unauthorized experiments!” Grandson ignored me.

  “Um, hello?” I said. “I have a gun, and you don’t. So hand over the vaccines. Right. Now.”

  Grandson waved his hand at me dismissively.

  “He even has the same scar under his left eye!” Grandson snapped, “What did you create him for?”

  He could've been a long lost brother for all I knew, but his words were true. He had the same scar under his right eye.

  “I’m telling you, Young Master, I have nothing to do with this one!” said Belmont. “But we should listen to him.”

  “No,” Grandson said. “Whoever or whatever this freak is, our problem is taken care of for us.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Grandson stared past me, and I heard the groan at the last second. Pure instinct alone let me move to avoid the chomping jaws of a Corpse. In that brief moment, Grandson grabbed my rifle, backed up, and aimed at me. Belmont tried to follow, and Grandson aimed the gun at him.

  The Corpse came on again, and I dove to the side, hiding behind a table as Grandson fired the gun. I watched the undead fall forward onto the floor, and amidst the gunfire, Dr. Belmont screamed. I peeked under the table to see the doctor lying on the floor, blood pouring from the bullet wounds in his leg. He lifted his head and looked up Grandson, who now stood by the window.

  “Pick me up on the fourth floor, east side.” Grandson said.

  He smashed the glass with the butt of the rifle, and cleared the shards, without ever turning around. The whopping of a helicopter sounded from outside.

  “No!” Dr. Belmont pleaded. “You can’t leave me! You said I could redeem myself.”

  I watched Grandson’s wicked smile form on his; my face.

  “You can.” Grandson said. “By staying here and becoming fodder so that I may live.”

  In the same moment, I threw myself over the table and charged straight for Grandson. He aimed and pulling the trigger. A shot fired off, but the gun clicked. It was out of ammo. I grabbed the rifle and pulled it; smacking him across the face with the barrel. He grunted and came back with a punch. I couldn’t block in time. The left hook hit my jaw and sent me spiraling back. He may have looked like me, but he knew how to fight, and I didn't.

  I crashed into a table covered in test tubes. Colored liquids went everywhere and glass shattered to the floor. Grandson chuckled, which became a maniacal, deep laughter. He climbed into the window frame and reached up, grabbing a rope ladder.

  “It is too bad we won’t be meeting again, Face Stealer.” Grandson said as the helicopter lifted off into the night sky.

  “No!” I shouted and lunged trying to grab his ankle, but my fingers grasped only this shoelace, which came undone. Helpless, I watched him fly away to his Gulf of Mexico Base. To make matters worse, in his other hand, he held one of the briefcases, which undoubtedly contained the vaccines.

  I fell to my knees and pounded the floor. “Crap!”

  I'd been so very close. If I'd just been a tiny bit stronger, or faster, or even smarter.

  Dr. Belmont's sobs broke me out of my daze.

  “You!” I stomped around to where the doctor lay bleeding out. He looked up at me, through foggy glasses. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I knew they felt despair.

  “You created the virus!” I growled and stomped on his hand, which reached for help.

  He screamed. “No! I just created the vaccine!”

  “Can you do it again?” I furrowed my brows.

  “If you help me, given enough time, I can—” he started, but then he roared in pain.

  The Lv01 corpse Grandson had shot tore away chunks of the doctor’s legs. He wouldn't live long enough to make another vaccine.

  “Kill me!” He begged. “Kill me!”

  “No.” I circled him. “You deserve to become one of them. You injected your child with the virus! You are scum. Did you save your daughter, or did you kill her after she turned?”

  I stood back and watched the Corpse eat through his leg.

  “I saw your video,” I said. “I was at your house.”

  “Then you should know.” his sentence was cut off by another screaming sob. “That I had no choice!”

  That’s when I spotted the silver case that Dr. Belmont had been holding
. I popped it open and found a single vial, cushioned in a shaped indent. The liquid inside looked like liquid mercury. Given there no other vials were in the case, I could only assume I'd found the partial vaccine. I snapped it closed and grabbed the handle.

  “You should know, there’s always a choice.” I spit on him. “This partial vaccine is for my infected friend.”

  I began to walk past the dying doctor, but he grabbed my ankle with an iron grip. I glared at him. His glasses had fallen off. He now looked furious; murderous even.

  “You know nothing!” He roared.

  I opened my mouth to respond, but I hadn’t seen the Corpse move. I felt the stabbing pain sink into my flesh. The world slowed down, as I pulled away and stomped on the Lv01's head, over and over and over, smashing it until brains covered my shoes. I looked down at the bite wound on my leg.

  Looking to the doctor, I whispered. “I’m infected?”

  The doctor laughed. “Oh, you most certainly are! It takes only the most minor of bites to spread the virus! This is irony for you! Serendipity even!”

  “You bastard!” I screamed. Had he not grabbed me I would've made it past the Corpse without being bitten. I would have made it! I would have been fine!

  The doctor lowered his head about to die. “Now, you must make a choice. Do you give the partial vaccine to your friend, or do you take it yourself? Either way, you both die.”

  All of the life faded from Dr. Marvel Belmont's eyes.

  “I don’t have to make that choice,” I said as I rolled my sock over the bite.

  “I don’t have to make a choice,” I said. “Because I’m giving the vaccine to my friend, and I’m going to find that Gulf Base.”

  However strong my words, the reality of the situation sank in and tears formed in my eyes. With both Jessie and I infected, the final countdown had begun.

  LEVEL 29 – DISHONORED

  The vaccine belonged to Jessie, and I knew I'd give it to her no matter what. At the very least, it would buy her some time, so we could find Grandson and get the permanent vaccine.

  Using the radio Wesley had given me, a small chance existed he'd come to help if I called. Maybe he would grant it as my final wish.

  Beside me, Dr. Belmont had died, and I would soon be next. I retrieved a shard of broken glass from the floor and kneeled next to him. His eyes opened, revealing those same dead eyes that I'd first seen in Mr. Murph, the school custodian.

  I stood and took a few steps back, watching as Dr. Belmont reanimated. He rolled onto his belly and dug his nails into the floor, trying to pull himself. The blood pooling on the floor, wouldn't allow him traction. He groaned and reached, his teething snapping slowly together. This would soon be me. I studied him; no, I studied ‘it’, for a few minutes. It made no progress with his useless legs. I never wanted to become this. I’d made a promise to Jessie that I would be the one to off her. When I got back, it’d have to be the other way around.

  I kneeled again, and pushed the Corpse, Belmont's, head to the floor, and then I slowly inserted the glass into its brain. No trace of Dr. Belmont remained.

  “You really knew nothing about Grandson and I,” I whispered. “Before I become like you I hope to find out why he and I look exactly alike.”

  With the Corpse dead, I wiped my bloody hands on my pants and removed Belmont's handgun from his belt. I popped the clip and checked the ammo; sixteen rounds. I'd have to use them wisely. With the clip inserted the safety off, I made my way back to the door and listened. The gunfire ceased meaning the battle had ended. From what I knew, the Creepers hated the militants. Houston would be their city from now on.

  Back in the hall, I ruled out using the elevator. The Corpses downstairs would tear me apart. I walked on and found the stairs to the roof. As silently as I could, I cracked the stairwell door open and immediately the stench of rot assaulted me, followed by a multitude of groans.

  “Not going that way, either,” I muttered. “How the heck do I get out of there?”

  I stopped when I found a trash chute built into the wall. I'd rather take any other exit, but I didn't have a lot of choices? I pulled open the door, and it stunk, but not as badly as Corpses.

  As I climbed into the chute, I whispered a silent prayer once again to the Gaming Gods, not that they would help me in any way shape or form, or probably existed at all for that matter, but it didn't do any harm.

  I held my breath and dropped through the dark. I expected to fall a few floors, but I kept falling. A cry of terror escaped my lips. The sound of turbulent water rushed up to meet me. I submerged into what felt like a river. I struggled, still holding a death grip on the briefcase. A current took hold. The briefcase did not serve as a flotation device. I tried to hold my breath, but the current slammed me into the wall, knocking the air out of me. My mouth flew open and gross, putrid sewer water rushed in. My death would come by drowning, and then I'd be a bloated, floating meal for whatever sea life remained.

  Eyes open or closed, I couldn't see. With one arm, I reached out, grasping for a ledge or handhold, a metal bar, anything. My consciousness waned, and it came to me that maybe, the time had come to just give in after all.

  I slammed hard into a sewer grate, and the water held me against the bars. Finally, I grabbed on and pulled my head above water. As I gasped for breath, I felt around and found a ledge to pull myself out.

  Back on solid ground, I crawled to my knees and vomited. I choked and coughed and even felt the urge to punch myself in the stomach to expel the remainder of the gross water. It tasted so foul I didn’t even want to think about what I had probably swallowed. After a minute of heaving, I rolled onto my back and gasped, catching a deep breath.

  Staring up, I spotted a sliver of dim light through a cracked open manhole cover. I sat up with a grunt and wasted no time pulling myself up the rusty rungs.

  Although exhausted, I survived the climb. I braced the briefcase above my head and pushed up with both hands. Unlike in video games and movies, manhole covers were heavy.

  I inched the cover up enough to put my fingers in the crack and push it to the side. I took the last few rungs as quickly as I could and crawled my way out.

  Flames lit up this section of the city. It had to be the gas station fire. I no longer had a map, but the fire would serve as a beacon. Maybe the Gaming Gods were on my side after all.

  As I navigated, I dodged between streets, down alleys and abandoned cars. I made my way around each Corpse horde without being seen. I needed each bullet in case I ran into any Lv03s.

  After curving around several blocks, I neared the gas station; the flames still rose into the sky; the smoke blocked out the night stars.

  From there it took only a few minutes to make it back to the apartment building

  “Please be alive!” I pleaded as I ran up the stairs.

  At the sixth flight, my breath had gone, but I'd made it. I wanted to lay down and rest, but time had become my worst enemy. I had to get the partial vaccine into Jessie’s veins.

  I took it as a good sign no groans came from the hall. I stopped in front of #621 and lightly tapped on the door. When no response came, I popped it open and listened. What I heard caused my heart to collapse. A long groan came from the bedroom.

  “Oh no.” I gasped, fighting back my fears.

  I stepped in, closed the door quietly behind me, and drew my gun. After everything that I'd been through, fate seemed to deem me worthy to be Jessie's executioner. How badly I wanted to turn and run. I didn’t want to go into the bedroom. I didn’t want to have to kill the girl I loved. A series of thuds echoed from inside. It sounded like she slammed her fists against something. She’d turned and now wanted out. She must've heard me come in.

  “Crap!” I fell to my knees.

  I lost it. Too many bad things had happened, and I'd reached the end of my rope. Through tear stricken eyes I looked at my gun. I didn’t have the guts to kill her. I couldn’t do it, but I could do myself.

  “I’m so, so
sorry, Jessie!” I cried.

  I took the gun and turned it around in my hand, aiming it into the roof of my mouth. My finger slid toward the trigger, and a voice in my head stopped me.

  “Dumb dumb!” Tiffany screamed. “Don’t just kill yourself! You’re out of continues!”

  I lowered the gun for a moment. A video game reference of all things. It seemed life had become a game after all. In this game, though, we had one life, and never any continues. No, deja vus were not checkpoints that we reloaded when we died. This had become our cruel reality, a real survival horror experience. Well, I'd grown tired of it! I wanted to check out!

  The gun found its way back to my mouth, and I held it in both hands. I trembled. It would be so easy to end it. I curled my finger around the trigger and started to pull.

  “Zach!” Jessie cried. “What are you doing?”

  My eyes shot wide, and I dropped the gun. Jessie appeared out of the bedroom, looking more like a Corpse than ever. She'd grown so pale, in the moonlight, she looked like a ghost.

  “Are you here to haunt me?” I asked.

  “No.” She stumbled forward and landed on her knees with a thud. She grabbed the gun and slid it across the room.

  “What were you doing?” She asked then fell over, groaning and grabbing her head. She slammed her fists on the floor.

  “It hurts so bad, Zach!” she cried. “Please, just shoot me now! Not yourself! Me!”

  “No!” I grabbed the briefcase and threw it open.

  Jessie hadn’t died, and like an idiot, I'd almost killed myself. If she had found me dead, she too would have died not knowing that I brought something to save her. I couldn't have been more stupid, but blaming myself would have to wait.

  “Hold still,” I told Jessie, who thrashed her head back and forth, in agony. “I have something that will help!”

  “Morphine?” Tears streamed down her face, illuminated by the outside light.

  “No, it’s better!” I pulled apart the compartment on the top looking for something to administer the vaccine with. Sure enough, I found a small injection gun. I popped the vile in and put the gun to Jessie’s arm.