Particle Z (Book 1)

by Scott, Tim

  Overwhelmed and fearful they would finally break through the glass, Marlee screamed and moved away from the window.

  “Put the sunglasses back on now!” Mike yelled. She did as Mike said, covering her eyes again quickly.

  “What the fuck was that all about?” Eric asked.

  “No clue, but those things are fired up now so we better get moving,” Mike said, looking at the bloodied, broken and torn forms banging against the glass. He hoped the thin layer of glass, tempered or not, would hold for the sake of the humanity inside the building, at least until he and his friends were long gone from this place.

  The Terra Corp staff looked at Marlee then to the bloodthirsty savages wanting in and started heading to the loading dock at a much quicker pace. The security team remained behind to cover the civilian staff and keep a wary eye on the progress the Changed were making with the glass.

  When Mike walked into the enclosed loading dock, he was amazed at how much Julian had managed to cram into such a small area. The sun was streaming in from small windows set above the main door, draping a black hardcore-looking Humvee in dappled light. The smell of fuel and cold hard steel set Mike’s pulse racing, bringing him back to his time spent in the field during his Army days. What caught Mike’s attention were the two up-armored MRAPs sitting behind the Humvee. They were jet-black like the Humvee, with the Terra Corp name and logo etched in a striking gold on the side of each vehicle. Mike was staring hard at the guns mounted on top of each.

  “What do you think?” Julian asked.

  “They look military grade, except for the paint of course,” Mike said.

  Julian, with a look of pride, said, “That’s our ticket through the crowds we’ll face shortly.”

  Parked on the other side of the MRAPs was what appeared to be a small armored bus; Mike assumed it was to transport the civilians of Terra Corp’s staff. He stared in admiration of the hardcore heavy metal parked in front of him and then saw Haya and Davis getting into the Humvee and Julian waving him over to join them.

  As Mike made his way to the Humvee, he knew shit was about to go down. Shrader, Vogel and Aggeles had lined up next to a standard-sized metal door to the left of an oversized roll-up door used to make inside deliveries. Mike watched as Shrader’s hand went up and his fingers started a silent countdown. As his fist closed, Vogel pushed the door open and the three men streamed through the door into the sunlight outside, weapons first. Within seconds, the soft pops of their silenced assault rifles could be heard from inside; they were firing at a frantic rate. Mike jumped into the Humvee with Haya, Davis, and Julian as they waited for the all clear.

  Aggeles was a man of average height, with dark skin, military cropped hair, and a lean and fit physique due to years of rigorous military training. He looked every bit the mercenary Mike suspected he was, ran back inside just minutes later and immediately began opening the roll-up door. Mike noticed at least fifteen prone forms strewn across the street outside as the door started to creep upward; these people were quick and deadly, Mike realized. Shrader and Vogel appeared shortly thereafter, walking backwards into the building and firing at anything that continued to move. Shrader slammed the door shut and they both took positions covering Aggeles as he cranked open the overhead door. The Humvee fired up with a throaty growl that echoed off the concrete walls of the loading dock, its occupants sitting quietly as they waited on the door to open to a point the vehicle could safely exit. Haya must have felt they had enough space to clear the door because he hammered the gas and the truck surged forward. The sunlight outside blinded Mike for a second, but he did notice the door was coming back down behind them in a hurry.

  Mike pulled out the two-way and called over to Reid, “Be ready, we’ll be clearing the street in front of the exit so you can open the door and get out.”

  “We’re in your truck sitting at the exit already, Mike; there are a shitload of those freaks right outside,” Reid said, sounding concerned.

  “No problem. Back off to the second or third floor even, these guys are about to light’em up.”

  When Mike finally got a look at the parking garage exit as Haya wheeled the Humvee around the corner, it seemed like there were hundreds of the Changed now milling around outside. Mike assumed they had been attracted to the sound and movement of his truck when Reid and Ashley had driven it down to the garage exit.

  “Let them have it,” Julian ordered Davis after scanning the crowd for any survivors.

  The sound of the .50 cal chugging away topside was deafening to those inside. The sound of the gun was bouncing off the surrounding office buildings, amplifying the noise even further. Mike had neglected to ask for earplugs, a rookie mistake he chided himself. The vehicle slowed as Davis whipped the gun back and forth, mowing down the poor souls that only hours before had been mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters; people with mortgages, jobs, hopes and dreams. Davis reduced them to piles of bloody pulp within minutes.

  Mike radioed Reid, telling them to make their way downstairs. He jumped from the Humvee and ran over to the garage exit. Mike waited until he spotted his Ford rounding the corner with Reid and Ashley’s faces peering through the windshield. Reid pulled up to the gate and jumped out, walked over to the manual override and triggered the door to open. Mike kept his head on a swivel looking for anything hostile. He heard the Changed moaning in the pile of pulp Davis had created with the .50 cal, causing his blood to run cold.

  “Follow us and don’t stop for anything until we get back inside,” Mike called through the exit to Reid.

  Reid briefly looked over at Mike and nodded his affirmative. Seconds later, they were back in their vehicles without incident and headed toward the loading area in the main building. The door was already opening as they pulled up. Mike’s stomach turned when he noticed hundreds of newly Changed making their way to the loading dock from the opposite direction they had just arrived from, drawn in, he was sure, by the racket the .50 cal had made clearing the exit to the parking garage.

  “Wherever it is you’re heading it needs to happen fast,” Mike said, eyeing the horde as he spoke.

  “We have a flight to catch,” Julian responded as if it were a foregone conclusion Mike and his friends were going with Terra Corp willingly.

  Mike looked at Julian and said, “We’re going with you under threat, don’t forget that.”

  “The choice is yours. Stay here and deal with the Changed, but Marlee’s going with us. She’s too important to be wasted on pride or your lack of understanding concerning the situation we’re now facing,” Julian said flatly.

  Mike, growing frustrated, looked back at Julian and said, “You haven’t told us why she is so important, you haven’t told us what exactly is happening or why, and you haven’t told us where it is you plan to take us.”

  “Mike, the world is under attack from an enemy we can’t see or control, and soon there will be very few safe places left for mankind. Marlee is rare, like I said before she’s what I consider latent, and I don’t really know what that means for her, humankind, if anything, or us. We’re flying to a secure location in a secluded part of the country and that’s all I can tell you right now. Our first priority is getting everyone on that plane and that in and of itself will be a challenge due to the rapid spread of Changed we’re witnessing.”

  Mike sat back and just stared at Julian. “Is it that bad?” he said, feeling deflated.

  “Yes, it’s that bad and it’s going to get much, much worse.”

  The door shut behind them and the Humvee ground to a halt. Mike was quick to climb out so he could inform his friends about the current situation. The Changed began pounding on the door as a reminder of their new reality.

  CHAPTER 7

  Travel Plans

  Mike and his team found themselves crammed into one of Terra Corp’s massive black MRAPs, Marlee snug up against Mike’s side. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. Julian, along with his security specialists, had piled into the same vehicle.
Mike assumed this wasn’t by chance, but rather to make sure Marlee had watchful eyes on her at all times. Julian was not a careless man, of that Mike was certain. The decision had been made to use the MRAP’s top-mounted twin chain-guns to punch a hole through the door and clear a path through the mass of Changed gathered outside. There was no way the door could be opened before the Changed tore apart whomever was assigned that suicide mission.

  They heard the metallic hum of the chain-guns spinning up before exploding into action. Davis was on the trigger as the chain-guns performed a violent symphony of death for any who stood before them. The six-wheeled vehicle’s engine fired up shortly after, hesitating for a moment as the huge turbos spooled up before launching them forward. The MRAP hammered through the gunfire-riddled door as it burst out onto the street. They plowed headfirst into a crowd of Changed, who were oblivious to the beating the chain-guns and vehicles’ tires were now dishing out.

  The second MRAP, the Humvee, and the smaller armored bus followed the lead vehicle out after it had managed to turn, leave a gaping hole in the Changed that were gathered outside. The convoy was on its way. The airport was about ten miles from their location on a good day, and today was anything but a good day. The first thing Mike noticed as he pressed his face up to one of the windows was the obvious. Chaos reigned supreme in a city that only hours before had been filled with businessmen and women trudging their way into work.

  Abandoned cars were everywhere. Many of the unlucky drivers had taken to the sidewalks in an effort to avoid the wave of misery that had descended upon the city. Shops were shut down or simply abandoned, and absent was the normal movement or sounds a person would generally hear on a Monday morning. The occasional individual or small group of people would appear at the sight of the convoy only be to torn down by the Changed that seemed to be roaming everywhere now. Davis was forced to be judicious with the application of the chain-guns as they moved further into the city, where normalcy was just now facing the horror that had begun at the Port. The Changed were bad enough; friendly fire would only exacerbate the situation.

  Mike was overwhelmed at the speed in which this nightmare was overtaking the city; glancing down at his watch, he was having trouble comprehending the fact only a few hours had passed since he had arrived at work. It was also incomprehensible to him that an entire city was on schedule to be reduced to a living morgue in less than a day if someone didn’t get this shit under control. What or who could have caused such a sick and violent end to so many innocent people kept running through his head; he didn’t have an answer but suspected Middle Eastern terrorists, most likely ISIS as they were sicker than even the sickest. Regardless, this would take months if not years to recover from.

  Mike hoped Julian would keep his word and let them know how bad the situation really was once they reached their destination, wherever that was. Then there was the issue of Marlee and this latent thing Julian kept mentioning. It sounded ominous but it could be worse, Mike thought, Marlee could be one of those things. He decided he would look at the positive side of things until that was no longer possible.

  He was unsure how Marlee ended up with some of the symptoms of the Change. The medical team had told him she was mark- and bite-free, so how she had contracted it was a mystery to him. Mike also knew for sure he wasn’t dreaming or imagining things, remembering with a shudder when those changed freaks got a look at Marlee’s eyes and went berserk. He felt sick to his stomach at what all of this meant for Marlee. If he was being honest with himself, Mike was also a little nervous. What if she completed her change and attacked them? He hadn’t figured out a way to prevent an event like that without pushing everyone around them even further toward the ragged edge. What did this mean for her future, and how would Mike protect her if she had a resemblance to one of the Changed? People tended to shoot first and ask questions later when faced with certain and painful death by flesh-hungry freaks.

  The MRAP ground to a sudden and bone-jarring halt, pulling Mike from his morbid contemplations. He waited for the impact of the trailing vehicles but was relieved when it didn’t happen.

  “Why did we stop?” Reid asked nervously, trying to get a look out one of the windows.

  Julian called up to the driver, “Why have we stopped?”

  I could’ve done that, was the look Mike clearly saw cross Reid’s face.

  “Mr. Fairchild, there’s trouble ahead. The highway’s blocked and it looks like secondary roads may be our only option if there isn’t a way around this mess,” the driver answered back.

  “How many vehicles need to be cleared?” Julian asked.

  “It’s not vehicles causing the problem, sir.”

  Julian stood up, in more of a stooped position than standing due to the cramped space inside the MRAP, and threaded his way past the others to take a look at what had the driver so concerned.

  “Holy shit!” Julian breathed out. “There must be hundreds,” he said with real alarm in his voice. “Lock down the vehicles, shut the engines off and have the Humvee and bus wedge in between the MRAPs. Make it happen now; we don’t have near enough fucking ammo to clear a crowd like that.”

  The driver immediately got on the radio. Within seconds the vehicles were in position, and all went silent. Mike was comforting Marlee while Reid held Ashley. They didn’t need anyone making unnecessary noise with a horde of Changed about to swarm past.

  “I don’t know what it takes to get their attention, and I certainly don’t want to starve to death if they stick around, so keep quiet until they’re past us,” Julian ordered everyone inside while the driver quietly radioed the message to the other vehicles. Mike was glad he was making this trip in the MRAP instead of the less secure Humvee.

  The stink preceded the swarm, a sickly putrid smell that offended the senses like nothing they had ever experienced. The only way Mike could describe the stench was a combination of athlete’s foot and rotten eggs mixed with wet diarrhea. Aggeles quietly handed out small cotton rags and gestured for everyone to wrap them around their faces to blunt the odor. He also handed out brown paper puke bags. Mike noticed the hired guns made no move to cover their faces. Macho, he guessed. Mike had left youthful bravado behind many years ago, and thankfully buried his nose in the rag.

  The sound of the swarm could now be heard: fear-inducing growls, the clicking of jaws mashing empty air, and a wet, whistling sound from throats torn asunder – inhuman sounds never experienced before by mankind that raised hackles on even the toughest of those in the safety of the MRAP. As the Changed moved past the small convoy, they did not seem interested in the small grouping of vehicles, much to the relief of those sitting quietly inside.

  Exacerbating the situation further was the suffocating heat building up within the MRAP. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but the lack of air conditioning with the vehicle off while baking in the blistering Florida sun increased the misery level considerably. The reason for the puke bags was now evident as Ashley started to gag and lost the battle, letting the remaining contents of her stomach dribble into her bag. The heat, putrid rank of the changed, and now the smell of vomit was more than Reid could handle as he too started to puke into his bag. Mike looked around at the queasy faces of everyone crammed inside the MRAP and prayed no one else would get sick.

  “All clear,” the driver mercifully announced after what seemed like hours but Mike’s watch told him was less than fifteen minutes.

  “Can we step outside for a minute?” Reid asked as he looked around the cabin at the misery drawn across each face.

  “Take a look, Aggeles,” Julian ordered.

  Reid looked pleadingly at Julian and said, “I need to get out of this fucking truck.” He sounded panicked so Mike, with a glance at Eric, shifted himself closer to Reid, just in case he needed to be relaxed against his will. While Mike and Eric kept an eye on Reid, Aggeles dropped back down from the gun turret.

  “Sorry, not safe outside, pockets of Z’s everywhere, but at least we can get the vehi
cles moving again.” Looking at Reid, he said, “You’re welcome to ride topside in the turret with Davis if it’ll help.”

  Reid smiled gratefully at Aggeles. “I’ll be fine; I think the heat got to me, that’s all.”

  The MRAP shuddered back to life along with the other convoy vehicles. Soon cool air started to circulate within the MRAP, the odors subsided, and everyone started to feel better. The lead MRAP started to trudge through abandoned vehicles, pushing many off the highway in order to pass through. Typically, I-275 was bumper to bumper at this time of day, but it was now filled with wrecked and abandoned cars, overheated corpses, and shambling groups of the Changed. Mike and the rest of the group were thankful for the armor that stood between them and an unspeakable and painful death.

  Mike decided to go topside and survey the landscape for himself. “Keep an eye on things,” he asked Eric, who was just staring at the flat tan interior of the MRAP, not looking at anything or anyone in particular. The day’s events had been almost unbelievable and were just now hitting home. The gravity of the situation they now found themselves in was overwhelming. Mike could tell by the far-off stares and blank looks that his friends were starting to internalize the shock of the day’s events, which was never a good thing. I woke up today looking forward to spending some time with Marlee. Now I’m sitting in an armored vehicle with some secretive corporate types while people are dying by the score then getting back up and murdering their friends and family. This is the stuff of nightmares or Hollywood. Is this really happening? Mike asked himself.

  Eric’s response brought Mike back to the present. “Copy that, Mike. I’ll keep an eye out, go ahead and take a look.”

  Mike smiled back at Eric. If you had to be stuck in the middle of an apocalyptic catastrophe, Eric was the person to be stuck with. Mike grabbed the ladder and started up. What he witnessed after squeezing himself topside with Davis was incomprehensible, and Mike’s brain was having trouble processing what he was seeing. As the day wore on and his world continued to unravel, he realized his hometown was almost unrecognizable to him. The silhouette of the downtown skyscrapers stood like stoic reminders of a better life forever banished to him.