Omega Virus (Book 1): Beta Hour

by Jake A. Strife

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I have to… this was the only cure left. Jessie, we can never be together because I’m infected with the Omega Virus.”

  LEVEL 37 – NO HOPE

  Jessie's tears were full on. “Show me your bite! I refuse to believe it!”

  Everyone else stared in silence. Being out, I no longer had a reason to hide it. I rolled down my sock, revealing the grotesque wound. The flesh around the broken skin had already turned gray and green veins ran up my entire leg.

  “How?” Jessie cried, leaping from her chair. She stomped up to me and pounded her fists against my chest. Earlier on, it might have hurt, but I'd become so numb I could barely feel the pressure.

  Strike after strike she continued. “Why? Why? Why? Why did you give me the vaccine?”

  I reared back and shook my head. “Because I want you to live!”

  “What about what I want?” She cried. “Doesn’t that matter to you? Aren’t my needs important?”

  “Of course! That’s why I saved you!”

  “Don’t you understand?” Tears ran down her rosy cheeks. “I knew I was going to die! I accepted it! I knew there was no hope left, but then you gave my hope back, and once again it’s been taken away! I would have been happier for you to continue on. When did you get bit?”

  “When I was leaving the lab with the vaccine,” I admitted. “Dr. Belmont caused me to get bitten. He stopped me and a Corpse grabbed hold.”

  Jessie fell to her knees, holding her face in her hands. “You idiot! You’re such an idiot!”

  I looked to my friends, and no one said a thing. Dave averted his eyes, Jeff glared, and Wesley had his back turned; shaking his head.

  “Didn’t I do what was right? I went through hell to save her!”

  But no one defended me.

  Jessie snapped. “You did what a selfish coward would do! You saved me so you could be happy! I’ll never be happy with you dead!”

  Of all the things she said, those words stung the most. I hadn’t saved her so I could be happy. I saved her so she could have a chance at life. But the more she cried, the more I realized it had been for me. I would die with a smile on my face. Her words were true, I'd turned out to be an asshole. But I didn’t care.

  “Jessie. I love you.” I pulled away and walked to Wesley.

  “Let me do it,” I said. “Just like Tiffany did. I know you still have a gun hidden somewhere, right? Let me shoot myself. Give me the dignity of choosing how I die.”

  Wesley spun around and smacked me with the back of his hand. “And here I thought I was an asshole!”

  I staggered and grabbed my stinging face. Blood dripped from my nose and onto my lips. I couldn’t speak; I felt betrayed.

  “We’re moving forward,” Wesley announced. “If we can’t find another vaccine, we’ll make one!”

  “Why?” I asked.

  Wesley stayed silent for a few moments then said. “Because you’re my friend, a comrade in arms; a player two. I expected us to be the two bad-asses that took on the Zombie Apocalypse together. I know I haven’t acted like it, but I saved you for a reason. I knew where you were when I came with the motorcycle. You loved killing zombies too. You may not have known it yourself at that moment, but I saw something in you that I haven’t seen in any other for years.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “How did you know that? Were you stalking me? What do you know about me? And since when do you care?”

  Wesley shrugged. “Jessie’s right. Tiffany’s right. You are an idiot. A stupid, selfish idiot.”

  His words hurt more than his backhand. Had my choices turned everyone against me? The girl I loved? The guy I actually kind of looked up to?

  “So here’s the deal,” Wesley said. “We’re going now, except for you, Zach.”

  “Why not me?” I snapped. “If something happens I can be the sacrifice and—”

  “That’s why!” He snarled. “You aren't a martyr. You will survive this!”

  I staggered to a table and sat down. Everyone smelled good. As always, Wesley proved right. I couldn't go.

  “Hurry, then.” I conceded. “Find the vaccine.”

  “That’s exactly what we’re going to do.” Wesley walked across the room to a wooden panel that looked like an elevator with a golden door.

  Jeff walked past and shook his head. “If you aren’t here when we get back, I will find you, Corpse or not and kick your ass.”

  Dave stopped in front of me and sighed. “We’ll save you, man, don’t worry. You saved my life now I’m going to save yours.”

  Finally, Jessie rose to her feet but didn’t say a word as she passed.

  My heart trembled, threatening to break. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”

  She didn’t look back. “I’m not saying it. You want to know why? Because it’s not goodbye, farewell or even see you later. It’s like they said, be here when we get back, or else.”

  Jessie kept walking, and I let my head fall into my hands. She said one last thing before they boarded the elevator.

  “Zachary Mastiff, I love you.”

  With that, they were gone.

  I sat there for several minutes in silence. I kept looking at the stage and picturing the G.O.D. Report Part 2. I imagined my ‘uncle’ Beauregard standing there along with the bride and groom.

  What did it all mean? How could Tiffany and I ever get married? Even if she were alive, she hated me. So the images we saw were some sort of projection of the future? We strayed from our paths, though. It all started with Tiffany’s death, and turning would be my punishment. Why had Grandfather come searching? And how did Wesley know about me?

  Nothing made sense. The report had cut off midway. Beauregard wanted to tell me how to fight, but Grandson either deleted it or took it for himself.

  “This sucks.” I glanced at the paper with Grandson’s handwriting and read it again.

  What had he done with the others? I spied the fountain pen he had used. I walked over and picked it up. Next to his message I wrote my name.

  ‘Zachary Mastiff’

  I tried to find the difference in the handwriting, but they were identical.

  “Who are you?” I stared hard. “And why are we completely alike?”

  I continued to write…

  “I always loved video games—And I was damn good at them. I even planned on majoring in Game Design. Zombie games were my favorite. Taking out the undead was addicting. So naturally, I thought I’d kick ass if the zombie apocalypse ever came.

  UNTIL IT DID.

  Now the virus runs through my veins. I can smell my friends… living flesh and blood. I’m infected, and they know it. It’s only a matter of time, yet, they won’t let me end my life. They think there’s still a chance.

  BUT THEY’RE WRONG.

  The world is a moving, corpse-filled wasteland.

  There are no extra lives, no continues, no cheat codes.

  AND THIS IS NO GAME.”.

  At the bottom of the page, I wrote one last thing.

  “Jessie Bluefield, I love you.”

  I took the pen then and stabbed it into paper, leaving it upright. As I sat back and stared at it. Would I really spend my final moments sitting in a chair as a loser full of self-pity? Did I deserve this to be my fate? I felt tears welling up in my eyes as I thought about Tiffany. It would have been nice to be married, and to experience a life filled with love. Even if it had been with her instead of Jessie, it still would have been nice.

  Tiffany had been my childhood girlfriend, and we were from Ohio. Had she remembered any of it? Or had Beauregard stolen her memory too?

  I found myself chuckling. What irony! I fell in love with the wrong girl, and before that, I messed around with the wrong girl. Just a month before I'd been a nerd, who, as far as I had known, never had a girlfriend. But to my amazement, three girls had fallen in love with me. I let two of them die, and the third could be getting herself killed while I moped. Jessie left to save me, and I di
dn’t deserve as much.

  My chuckling turned into hysterical laughter. I grabbed the sides of my head, digging my nails into my scalp. The more I heard my laughter, the more I didn’t recognize it. The noise seemed so loud and foreign I almost startled thinking someone else entered the room. I doubled over and let my face hit the table. A sharp pain cracked through my head. I had given myself a bad, bad headache. The pounding hurt and made my eyes water even more.

  “Why does my luck suck like no other?” I pounded my fist. “Why! God dammit, why!” I screamed and flipped the table.

  It knocked into the pedestal, and they both crashed to the ground. Then I saw a long silver gun tumble out of the pedestal and land near my feet. I picked it up and looked it over. Words were etched into the side, ‘Desert Eagle’.

  “A magnum,” I whispered.

  I pulled out the clip and sure enough, it there were nine bullets, and likely one in the chamber. I could easily take myself out with it. I only needed one. But why had there been a powerful gun hidden inside? What kind of game did Grandson play? I realized then, he wanted me to find it.

  “Mr. Mastiff.” A voice spoke.

  I spun around, looking, but I stood alone.

  “Who’s there?” I lifted the gun, ready to spend nine of those ten shots on the intruder.

  “You should recognize my voice by now.” He said. “You hear it every single time you open your mouth.”

  “Grandson!” I breathed. “Show yourself so I can shoot your sorry ass!”

  “I would rather wait on that. If you don’t mind, I would like you to take your little gift and come find me, you know, so we can clear the air about some things.”

  “Why would I want to talk to you?” I aimed the gun around.

  “You want to talk to me for many reasons.” He said smugly.

  “Name just one!” I said.

  “Okay, I have answers to your questions.”

  “You mean you know why we’re identical?” I asked.

  “It took a while, but I finally figured it out thanks to the G.O.D. Report.”

  “And what was that with the marriage?” I asked.

  “Now, now.” Grandson chuckled. “Do you think I’ll give away my secrets so readily? Humor me; show yourself in my presence. I can’t come to you.”

  “And what if I stay right here?” I said. “What then?”

  “Then you die, turn into a ‘Corpse’ and when your friends get back, that is if I allow them to come back, they will have to shoot you in the head. That will be enjoyable to watch I must admit. Maybe even Jessie will do it, your love. And how could you love someone like her? Tiffany was much preferable.”

  “You’re an asshole!” I snapped. “Even if I come to you I’ll still turn into a Corpse! Why shouldn’t I blow my head off right now?”

  “You asked for just one reason.” He said. “But I have three. Do you wish to know the other two?”

  “Sure, why not?” I gripped the magnum so tight my knuckles were white.

  “Because if you make it to me, you won’t become a Corpse. You won’t die. I will make it so the virus will not take away everything you hold dear!”

  “You mean you have another vaccine? You’re a liar! You said it was the last one, and the others were gone!”

  Grandson laughed. “I still have to give you one last reason why you should come.”

  “What is it?” I shouted. “What is your game?”

  “My game?” He asked. “Isn’t life itself just a game after all? Everything is a game! That’s what it is all about, isn’t it? Just a big, huge, fun game!”

  “Stop screwing with me!” I screamed. “Tell me the last damn reason!”

  “Fine, you downer, you,” He said. “The last and final reason you should come see me is that I have released a Level 04 Super-Corpse into the base and at this exact moment in time it should be finding your friends and tearing them limb from limb.”

  LEVEL 38 – FINAL ZONE

  I threw my arms to my sides. “Call it back! I’ll do whatever you want!”

  “I’m afraid once the Lv04 is released it’s out of control.” Grandson said. “It really is a shame. You’re so close to them aren’t you? That’ll change one day, or maybe not. I can’t be sure of anything anymore.”

  “Stop all of this!” I said, “So many have died! Millions—”

  “Billions of lives lost, actually. Our high score tops any other.” The sound of my voice saying such things chilled me to the bone.

  “What is there to gain?” I shouted.

  “Tick tock, Mr. Mastiff, Tickety-Tock-Tock!” Grandson said.

  With the Desert Eagle gripped tightly, I rushed to the elevator. I smashed the button on the golden panel.

  “Hurry up!” I said.

  The elevator moved too slow. After an agonizing sixty seconds, the lift finally dinged, and the door opened.

  I stepped into the carpeted, gold-walled elevator and scanned the buttons. There didn’t seem to be anything lower than B7. So I hit that button and waited, panic-stricken. The door closed slowly.

  “Come on!” I smashed B7 repeatedly.

  The elevator hummed and clanked as it began its descent. Each beep of the passing floors spiked my migraine. Beep. I nearly screamed. Beep. My vision blurred. Beep. My head spun. Beep. I fell back into the elevator wall. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beeeeeee---

  My eyes shot open, and I realized I had collapsed. The ugly pattern of the red and gold carpet attacked my eyes. How long had I been out?

  Then it came to me; my friends were in danger.

  My entire body felt as if it were on fire, but also bathed in ice. My skin should’ve been melting off my body.

  It took every ounce of strength I had, but I lifted my arm and grabbed the railing. Then a wave of smells hit me. I pulled myself up to one knee and took a long whiff of the air. I smelled blood. Human blood. And hadn't coagulated like a Corpse's.

  I quickly climbed to my feet, I'd let my equilibrium on the ship. I tumbled into the wall. “Hold on!” I whispered.

  I kept hold of my Desert Eagle as I stepped out of the elevator, using my other hand to constantly grasp the wall. Each step and breath came labored.

  “What happened, Mr. Mastiff?” Grandson’s voice came over the speakers. “Did you take a nap?”

  I ignored him and looked around. The walls were made of silver-plating with violet orbs of light shining behind glass-covered panels. The light fixtures above on the ceiling were too bright. I had definitely found the secret base.

  “Mr. Mastiff.” Grandson said. “I can see you, you know, so please don’t ignore me. It won’t bode well for your friend’s lives.”

  “Don’t talk about them!” I took another step through the futuristic hallway, which twisted up ahead.

  “Why not? They're my friends too.” He said. “Or should I say ‘were.'“

  “Stop your mind games!” I took another step, feeling as if my feet weight a hundred pounds each.

  “I’m not playing a mind game anymore.” He said. “The Lv04 was such a good boy. He actually brought them to me. I don’t know how long before he decides to feast on their flesh.”

  “Let them go!” I yelled.

  “Then you best hurry up. Neither of us has much time.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, but no answer came. The speakers had gone silent.

  I took a deep breath and stepped forward again. How would I ever make it? The hallway looked as if it went on forever. Step by step, I moved forward, going no more than a foot every ten seconds. My skin itched terribly, and my stomach began to growl. The smell of blood got stronger. Wherever it came from, it couldn't be too far.

  “Please hold on,” I mumbled. If I didn’t hurry everyone would die.

  I followed the wall, my shoulder leaning up against the cool metal, which felt good on my skin, but froze my blood. Before long I reached walls, turned into glass windows. Outside I could see the deep dark ocean. But where I expected to see sea life swimming p
ast, I saw nothing.

  I passed more windows, which eventually turned back, into metallic walls. Then I came to a four-way intersection. Each direction looked the same except the color of the wall orbs were different. Straight ahead, yellow, to the left, blue and to the right, green.

  “One, two, three, four.” Grandson mocked. “Is that how many friends you had?”

  “What?” What did he mean, had?

  I lifted my nose into the air and breathed in deep. The blood hit me like a cannonball. It came from the right, down the green hallway. I hoped beyond hope it that it didn't belong to the Gamer's Guild or Wesley.

  Still leaning against the wall, I made the turn. I followed the appetizing aroma. If I found the owner, I would just have to take a quick bite before continuing on to find Grandson and my friends.

  The hallway curved away from the other halls, and I had no choice but to follow it. After forty painful steps, I finally came to an open area. I looked around and narrowed my eyes. The room looked to be some sort of storage warehouse. Large steel containers with the word ‘G.O.D.’ written on the sides were stacked up in piles around the room. There seemed to be no method to the madness, they were just in random spots.

  I stumbled to the first pile of containers and fell against them.

  “I don’t—think—I—can make it.” I struggled with each word, and breathing itself became difficult.

  “You can make it, Zach.” A voice coughed.

  My first instinct had me wanting to leap around the side of the box and find my dinner. I wanted to dig into the flesh of whoever spoke, tearing away with my teeth. But I fought that urge; I fought it hard because that voice sounded familiar. My eyes trailed to the floor, and I spotted a pool of blood leaking around the corner.

  I staggered around to find the speaker.

  Wesley sat against a storage contained. Blood covered his him and bore deep wounds. One of his legs had been cut off below the knee.

  “No!” I whispered and got closer, but as I stepped in the blood, my eyes locked onto it. I wanted to lick it up, but more so I wanted the meat. I looked back to Wesley.