Afflicted: Patient Zero

by Derek Shupert

  “Toss any weapons you have on your person to the side and step up and out slowly with your hands behind your heads!” an almost computerized voice sternly orders. “You have one minute to comply!”

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking about taking my chances,” I say. “After all, how much worse could things get for me?”

  Natasha looks over the control board, focused as if she’s looking for something. I can almost see the wheels steam rolling inside her head, possibly concocting some crazy ass diversion or something that will add to the shit stew we’re already simmering in. I hate surprises.

  “Ok, it’s not the best plan, but the only one that I’ve got right now,” Natasha says flatly. “I hope you’re as good of a shot as I’m hoping you are.”

  I don’t have time to ask what she’s planning as she jumps up and smashes a clear plastic cover with the butt end of her pistol. She places her palm face down and holds it.

  “What does that do?”

  The sirens start up again and a bright hue of red catches my eye as it reflects off the controls inside the station. Natasha swivels while kneeling and turns towards the soldiers, cautiously lifting her pistol. I follow suit and get to my feet as the bright glow of lights in front of each cell flashes a dark red intermittently.

  Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!

  The soldiers don’t seem to be concerned with us anymore. They’re more worried about what’s going on with all the cells. Some bolt for the door only to find it sealed shut and not budging at their panicked strikes.

  In perfect sync, the Plexiglas barriers fall into the ground and the steel doors retract into the wall. Casey lets out a steady, controlled breath as she pauses and trains her gun dead ahead. Silence grips the room and holds everyone’s nerves hostage as movement within the cells strikes a chord and brings everyone back to life.

  “Still thinking this was a good idea?” I ask.

  “They’re not worrying about us anymore, are they?”

  One of the soldiers opens fire at one of the dead barreling out of its cell, bullets ripping through its sagging flesh and impacting the wall in its cell. Its mutated arms stretched out in front, it lunges and tackles the soldier. With a single strike from its arm, it tosses the soldier’s weapon to the side and tears into his neck, pulling and tugging at the savory meat.

  Like a domino effect, the soldiers start firing at all the different abominations bursting out of their cells. Voracious would be putting it mildly as these things make the dead I’ve encountered so far look like a walk in a really messed up park.

  Chaotic and a total blood bath, the soldiers fight as best they can, taking some out with precision head shots while others fire uncontrollably. I can hear the chat of some radioing for backup, a hail Mary, as their brothers-in-arms are devoured. For now, Casey is on the side of the living. She’s lethal as she moves from infected to infected, splattering their brains out the back of their heads.

  “Nice shooting. I wasn’t sure which way you were going to lean on this. Watch out!” I yell over the carnage as I grab Natasha’s arm and yank her to the ground. A barrage of bullets strikes the station we’re huddled up in as I catch the sound of something lurking around us—a clawing noise like fingernails trailing down a chalk board.

  It’s burnt and blackened arm darts inside and grabs Natasha by the leg, yanking her out of our safe haven and into the madness beyond. I reach for her arm, but she disappears around the corner, letting out a single yell.

  Without pause, I spring to my feet and enter the horrid buffet of the dead feasting on the living and recently deceased soldiers. Blood is splattered all over, and a combination of the infected and soldiers canvas the once clean slate. A massive infected creature is dragging Natasha off in the opposite direction of the main mess.

  She fires towards its head, missing and hitting it repeatedly in its shoulders. It doesn’t even flinch as the bullets tear apart its flesh. Her pistol clicks empty. I take aim and ready my shot. Something drills me in the side and slams me against the wall. My pistol bolts and I feel the heated and heavy breathing of something trying to get to the side of my head. Natasha disappears once more around another corner, and I fear that’s the end of her line.

  I’ve got my arm placed between me and the dead, bile oozing out of its contorted mouth to my shirt. It’s strong and unrelenting, pushing harder and harder, trying to overpower me. I throw my weight towards it and gain some distance, enough to slip to the side. I grab it by where I think its shoulders are, and throw it forward head first, slamming its skin challenged skull into the wall. Its neck snaps and its head cracks open like an egg. It falls to the ground lifeless.

  I peer off in the direction where Natasha was dragged and head that way. Something falls from above and lands hard behind me. I twist around and find Trenton on top of some kind of mutated animal, plunging his fist into the creature’s body and ripping out its insides.

  The creature, standing on its hind legs like a bear, roars out loud as Trenton leans in close and bites the hell out of its neck. He pulls away, taking a massive chunk of flesh from the creature and sending it falling to the floor before me. With a single blow, Trenton craters the creature’s deformed skull with his fist, brain matter caking his hand as he gets back to his feet. He looks up at me, chest heaving and fluid leaking from his torn, dried lips.

  I give a simple nod, not sure if Trenton understands the basic gesture, and hurry over to where Natasha was taken. My rule still hasn’t changed, I don’t trust anyone here, but Natasha has inside knowledge and that is useful. For now, anyways.

  Before I can make the corner, Natasha appears bloody from head to toe and wielding a knife that drips blood. Chunks of meat dangle from the blade’s serrated edge. I quickly look her over, checking for scratches or bites of any kind or size. I would ask if she’s ok, but she’s standing and doesn’t look like she’s been bitten or anything.

  “I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Natasha sarcastically says, peering back over her shoulder.

  I look into the darkened corner and find the mutated infected slashed to bits; nothing but a pile of ragged meat and bone that is completely unrecognizable. Not that I could tell what it was before anyways.

  “And here I thought you were the one that was going to end up dead.”

  Natasha half-heartedly snickers as the slight smirk is wiped away, and her eyes train straight ahead. Lips taut, she flips the knife, the serrated blade facing outwards. I cock my head to the side and find Trenton keeling down and feasting on the abomination’s body.

  “He’s ok.”

  “Ok, my ass,” Natasha replies. “Look at that shit. He’s eating that thing.”

  “It’s hard to explain and I obliviously don’t have the first clue as to what is happening, but it seems that he kills the dead and not the living, strange as that may be.”

  “Why hasn’t he killed you then? You look more like them than a non-flesh eater.”

  “Guess because I’m neither dead nor alive. Maybe something in between—a hybrid?”

  The gunfire has ceased now and the sound of the remaining dead growling and feasting on the soldiers’ bodies fills the room. One of the two obstacles in our way has been taken care of. Now we just have whatever dead is left to contend with. But I have a thought that I didn’t think much of earlier. Not with facing another murder of twisted flesh and souls trying to kill me.

  If Trenton is here, where is Alice?

  The notion is quickly kicked aside as out of the corner of my eye, I see a small group of mutated dead glancing our way. Chests heaving and blood dripping from their elongated fingers, I can almost feel their ravenous appetite as they look us up and down.

  The devil on my shoulder rears his ugly head once more and whispers faintly in my ear, plainly and without a hint of doubt or remorse.

  Toss the chick to the hungry wolves over there and get the hell out. She’s pretty much told you where to go. You
don’t need her anymore. She’ll just slow you down or worse, betray you and keep you from getting your answers and ultimately, getting back to Becky. You know I’m right.

  I peer at Natasha, whose full attention is dead ahead and not paying me any mind. I could slip away right now and she probably wouldn’t even notice it. I don’t owe her anything and she volunteered for this.

  I’m teetering on the fence when the sagging flesh before us shrills loud and advances forward, mouths open and hands reaching for us. Something inside me compels me forward and on a collision path with the dead. Trenton explodes out of my peripheral and lands in the meat grinder.

  He wastes no time at relieving one of the dead of his head, ripping it clean from its body and knocking the headless corpse to the side. The others grab Trenton and focus on him, the mayhem of dead blending into a blur of rotted meat as blood flies.

  “This is our chance to get the hell out of here,” Natasha says. She wastes little time running past me and back to the control center.

  Trenton manages to tear into another one of the mutated dead as he grabs it by the throat with his teeth, ripping in the opposite direction and tearing its esophagus from its body.

  “Mike, what the hell are you doing?” Natasha yells at me. “Let’s go!”

  One of remaining dead grabs Trenton by his forehead from behind and yanks his head back, digging its teeth into his neck and not letting go. Coagulated blood runs out from under the infected’s mouth and down his chest. Trenton’s cold, black eye’s gaze upon mine as the weight of the dead flesh on his back throws him to the ground. It pays me no mind, for the moment, as it feasts upon Trenton’s rotted flesh. Guess they’re not picky either.

  I hastily run over to Natasha, who has relieved the remaining guard of his pistol and checked the clip. She hands me the bloody knife and grins. Not sure why.

  “I’ll need the pistol more than you will, dead man walking.”

  I could just slit her throat and take both, but again, the extra set of eyes and possible diversion might come in handy. She’s given me no reason thus far not to kill her, but things could change.

  A swooshing sound from above and behind us tingles my ears, sending my eyes up top and then behind me.

  “Come on!”

  Natasha bolts out of the guards’ workstation and heads back the opposite way towards the door that is now open next to the stairs. I quickly follow her and stay on her ass as the sound of gunfire blisters through the air, seeming to come from every direction. We dart inside the adjoining room, bullets whizzing past us. A few strays catch me in the upper back and bore through my body, exploding out of my lower torso. A trail of my thick, mutated blood reaches for the ass end of the bullets as they strike the concrete floor. It doesn’t slow me down, but rather knocks me off balance as the door seals shut behind us.

  The pinging sound of the rounds striking the steel door continues and I can faintly pick up the chatter on the other side. I can’t fully make out what they’re saying, but can guess it’s concerning how they’re going to get in here.

  Natasha trains her pistol at a control panel on the wall and chambers off a single round, shattering the display and sending sparks spewing out in every direction.

  “That’ll buy us a little time, but not much,” Natasha says. “You’re hit. You ok?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  I peer down and rip open my already tattered shirt where the bullets tore through to find walnut sized holes. The flesh around the wounds is decaying and blackened, puss dribbling out and down my rippled stomach. I don’t bat an eye at the sight, but Natasha’s face becomes disgusted, and that look of concern still hovers in her eyes. I guess right now she needs me just as much as I need her. But I won’t be offering up that kind of sensitive information just yet. That will be in a worst case scenario, if then.

  I gulp hard and clear my throat, the raspy sound horrid and deep. I cover my mouth and hack hard one time, a thick wad of blood coating my palm. I become light headed once more and everything in the room slows down. It’s as if someone has put my brain on slow motion times two.

  “I’ll be honest with you, Mike, I don’t think you have too much longer before you turn fully. I can do you anytime or if I feel endangered by you wanting to tickle my funny bone with your teeth, I will put you down. Just remember that.”

  “If and when it does get to that point, you do what you feel you need to do.”

  Natasha nods slightly in agreement and holsters her pistol, walking off in the opposite direction while keeping an eye on me. I gather my shit the best I can and get myself upright. I take a deep breath and try to repress the inner demon fighting tooth and nail to be let loose. For now, I’ve got him contained, but he is at the door and ready to take over.

  21

  Unstable at the moment and my brain feeling like mush, I straighten and walk towards Natasha. She’s planted her butt in a chair, her fingers dancing across an illuminated digital keyboard. The monitor in front of her scrolls through all sorts of shit that I don’t understand.

  I peer around the room, or should I say a lab of some kind. It looks similar to the one where I ended Deacon’s nightmare. Not that he remembered anything before it. Or did he? There are more vials and massive test tubes that take refuge in this seemingly untouched part of the base, facility, Frankenstein’s laboratory, whatever you want to call it.

  “What . . . doing . . . there?” I ask with almost a drunken slur.

  “I’m trying to see if I can gain access to the secured files. That’s where we’ll find all the goodies,” Natasha replies without missing a beat. “Again, I don’t know much about computer hacking, but I’ve picked up a few things here and there. Hopefully, it will work.”

  Natasha continues to hack away at the network as I turn around and spot a tube directly behind us with something peculiar floating in some greenish tinted fluid. I stumble over like one of those walkers and place my hands on the thick glass, resting my spinning head against it and trying to keep my balance.

  The thing inside is horribly deformed, looking more like a made up creature from some back lot of a Hollywood studio. Its head is rigid and has welts pushing out all over. Its body is tiny, legs and arms protruding out in the weirdest places. It has one big black eye that is open and looking at me. It’s not moving or showing any signs of life. I think it’s dead, if it was ever even alive at all.

  “Damn it, I wish Hound was here. He would’ve had this cracked open in no time. Probably doesn’t help that I still don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

  I keep studying the creature. Out of my right peripheral vision, I catch something stirring. It’s subtle and not something I think wants to eat us as they really don’t give a crap about being subtle.

  “Hey,” I whisper to Natasha who spins around in the chair and looks at me frustrated.

  “What, and why the hell are you whispering?”

  I point around the tube towards some steel storage cabinets that have one of the double doors partially open. The right door moves just enough to stir our interest.

  Natasha bolts out of her chair and draws her pistol, training it at the cabinet. She points to me, then to the cabinet. I slowly stumble over to the cabinet and grab one of the doors, glancing over my shoulder to Natasha.

  She nods.

  I move to the left some and jerk the door open. The sound of a panicked male voice begging for his life and thrashing around inside the steel cabinet greets me. I can’t see who it is yet, but Natasha has her Glock still trained on him.

  “Shut up and stop that damn whining!” Natasha yells. “Have you been bitten or scratched or anything like that?”

  The man plops out of the cabinet and onto the floor, keeping his head down and on his knees. He’s dressed in that all too familiar white lab coat with a badge dangling from the right pocket. He raises both arms into the air. “Please don’t shoot. I’m unarmed.”

  Natasha lowers
her weapon some, a look brushing over her face that sends the gears churning and burning inside her head. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she knew this person.

  “Dr. Lentz?”

  Instantly, the man freezes and slowly looks up. His wild salt and pepper thin hair is partially matted to his scruffy face. “Natasha . . . is that . . . you?”

  Natasha holsters her Glock and walks toward him, bending down and helping him off the floor. He’s much older and looks really haggard, wrinkles covering his shaking hands and his worn face. Massive bags take refuge under both his eyes, the skin a dark, deep blue.

  “I thought you’d been killed or taken away.”

  “Fortunately, I managed to slip away and hide before they got to me. Thanks to you of course,” Dr. Lentz replies.

  “I’m glad to see you’re ok,” Natasha warmly says.

  I clear my throat and lean against some metal cabinets. Natasha glances at me then quickly back to Dr. Lentz. This ought to be good.

  “Doctor, there’s someone I’d like-”

  Before Natasha can finish, Dr. Lentz turns around and sees me. Terror swarms his face, his bloodshot eyes open wide. The color that he just got back instantly drains away to a very pale white. Guess I startled him.

  Dr. Lentz scrambles away in a panic, falling backwards to the floor. Natasha grabs him by the arm and reels him back in, trying to calm him down.

  “Dr. Lentz, everything’s fine. He’s not going to hurt you. He’s not like the others.”

  I keep still in hopes that the good doctor will relax and chill out some. I’ve got my arms folded across my chest and both hands tucked under my armpits, coughing occasionally. Well, actually hacking is more like it.

  The doctor looks me over, scanning me from head to toe with a bewildered, yet curious, stare. The fright that resided in his face fades away and a more inquisitive expression brings the color back to him. Natasha helps him to his feet.

  The doctor walks toward me slowly, still cautious and aware that I no longer look to be among the living. I can feel his eyes rolling over every spec of my disease ridden body. He mumbles something, while raising his hand to my face. “May I?”