Terror at Camp Everbee (The Ward Z Series Book 2)

by Amy Cross

  She shrugged.

  “I bet you any money that Washington's involved as well,” he continued. “The British government would never do something like this without America's agreement. They're probably looking to weaponize these things. Trust me, the online forums have been chattering for months about secret biological research programs.”

  “Sure they have,” Kirsty said with a forced smile. “And those forums would be filled with, what, people like you?” She rolled her eyes. “Please.”

  “Quiet down in there!” a soldier shouted from the other side of the door.

  “I will not quiet down!” Crystal shouted back at him. “I demand to speak to whoever's in charge!”

  “You're just gonna get darted again,” Kirsty told her.

  “This is an outrage,” Crystal continued, banging on the door yet again. “I demand -”

  Hearing a bolt being slid across on the other side, she stepped back as the soldier pushed the door open.

  “M'am,” he said firmly, “I am telling you now, you need to stop with the yelling and screaming, and you need to calm down. Doctor Lincoln will speak to you just as soon as he's ready.”

  “You're violating my human rights,” Crystal told him.

  “M'am -”

  “Oh God!” Freeman shouted suddenly, clutching his chest. “I think I'm -” He stared wide-eyed at Kirsty for a moment, before slumping forward and falling off the bed, landing hard on the wooden floor.

  “Are you okay?” Kirsty asked, making her way down to check on him. “Are you, like, hurt or something?”

  “It's my heart,” he gasped.

  “What about it?” She paused, before inching away from him. “Is it one of those things?”

  “I'm getting out of here,” Crystal said, trying to force her way past the soldier before he pushed her back onto the bed. “I demand to be let out of here!” she shrieked.

  Pushing the door shut, the soldier made his way over to Freeman and looked down at him for a moment.

  “What's wrong?” he asked.

  “He said it's his heart,” Kirsty said, climbing back up onto the bed while keeping her injured foot from touching anything. “I think it might be one of those creatures, though.”

  “Sir,” the soldier continued, aiming his rifle at Freeman as he leaned down to get a better look at his face. “I have to advise you that you need to sit up immediately.”

  “My... heart...” Freeman gasped.

  “I think maybe he's actually sick,” Kirsty said, peering at him. “He's sweating a lot.”

  “He's infected!” Crystal shouted. “Oh God, you were holding us in here with someone who's got one of those creatures in his belly!”

  “Hold up,” the soldier replied, peering at Freeman for a moment longer before reaching to grab his radio. “Okay, I think I need to -”

  Before he could finish, Freeman sprang up and tore the rifle from the soldier's hands before raising the butt and slamming it into the his face, cracking his cheek and sending him crumpling down to the floor.

  “And that,” Freeman said, as he checked the rifle, “is how to disarm a man in under three seconds.” He turned to Kirsty. “I'd tell you where I learned that particular skill, but then I'd have to kill you.”

  “You learned it on the internet, didn't you?”

  “If I told you that, I'd have to kill you.”

  “Are you insane?” she asked. “That man is a soldier!”

  “And since the moment they put us in here,” Freeman replied, kneeling next to the unconscious man and going through his pockets, “no-one has told me a damn thing about my sister.” Taking the soldier's keys and pass-cards, he checked the man's pulse before getting to his feet. “He'll be fine. I'm off to find my sister. If you two want to sit in here like obedient little idiots, hoping that these people won't execute you for knowing too much, be my guest. Me? I'm going to get my sister out of here and then I'm running as fast as I can.”

  “I can't run,” Kirsty pointed out.

  Pushing past Crystal, Freeman hurried out of the cabin and stopped for a moment, looking around.

  “I'm surrounded by lunatics,” Crystal muttered. “We're all going to die!”

  “Something's not right here,” Freeman said, turning back to them. “I don't see any other soldiers around.”

  “They're probably out looking for those monsters,” Kirsty suggested.

  “And they left just one person to guard the cabin? I don't think so.” He paused for a moment, feeling another slight twinge of pain in his lower back. “There's no way that guy should've fallen for my heart attack trick. It was desperate and cliched. How many soldiers did you actually see when they arrived?”

  “I don't know,” Kirsty replied, thinking back for a few seconds. “Four. Five, maybe.”

  “That's not a lot, is it?” Freeman pointed out. “When you're dealing with a potential outbreak of a deadly mutant species, you send a lot more than four or five men.” He looked back down at the soldier. “Especially when those men can be so easily disarmed. He went down before I even got around to the second part of my counter-attack.”

  “So?”

  “So there's no way in hell that he's a professional soldier. They should have sent goddamn marines to deal with this situation, but instead they sent a bunch of untrained idiots. Something about this whole thing is definitely not right.”

  “They still have guns,” Crystal pointed out. “I don't like guns.”

  “I'm going to find my sister and then I'm getting out of here,” Freeman replied. “You two ladies are welcome to join me.” He turned to Kirsty. “I can even help you to move faster, despite your injury. Are you with me or not?”

  “I -”

  “Make your mind up!”

  “I...” She paused, before starting to clamber off the bed. “I just want to get out of here!”

  “Help her,” Freeman told Crystal.

  “Me? What can I do?”

  “Just help her. Get her outside and wait for me. This shouldn't take long.” With that, he turned and hurried away from the cabin.

  “He's insane,” Crystal pointed out as she helped Kirsty toward the door. “I don't just mean that he's a little weird, I mean he's absolutely out of his mind.”

  “I'm totally going that way too,” Kirsty muttered, gasping with pain as her raw and bloodied foot bumped against the wall. “I don't think I can do this! I'm only going to slow you down, you should leave me behind.”

  “Okay,” Crystal replied, suddenly lowering her to the floor before taking a step back. “You're right. I'm sorry, I hope you manage to find another way out.”

  “Hey -” Kirsty began, but Crystal was already out the door. “I... I didn't mean it...”

  ***

  Leaning back against the side of a cabin, the soldier fumbled in his pockets for a pack of cigarettes. Opening the wrapper, he reached for his lighter.

  Suddenly Freeman stepped around the corner and slammed the butt of his rifle into the soldier's head, knocking him out instantly and sending him slumping to the ground. Reaching down, he took the man's cigarettes before glancing around to make sure no-one else was watching.

  “Professional soldiers, my ass,” he muttered. “Whoever these goons are, they're sure as hell not trained military.”

  Making his way along the side of the cabin, he stopped as he heard voices coming from inside. Listening for a moment, he realized that a man and a woman seemed to be discussing some kind of medical procedure, with the male voice telling the female to pass several tools. After a moment, Freeman realized he could also hear a persistent beeping sound, as if a heart monitor was running. After checking that both his rifles were loaded, he made his way around the side of the cabin and then carefully peered through the window, only to see two medical staff-members working on a patient.

  “No,” he whispered, trying to get a better look at the patient's face, before finally spotting a wisp of familiar black hair. “Hell no!”

  Hu
rrying to the door, he pulled it open and stepped inside. Raising one of the rifles, he fired at the male figure, blowing a hole in his chest and sending him slumping against the wall as blood flowed from the fresh, gaping wound. Turning to aim at the female figure, his finger closed on the trigger before he stopped at the last moment.

  “Scream,” he said firmly, “and I'll blow your goddamn head off.”

  The woman nodded, clearly in a state of panic.

  Pulling the door shut, Freeman made his way over to the table, while keeping his rifle aimed squarely at the woman.

  “Holy God,” he whispered, looking down at Karen and seeing that her belly had been cut open, with a flap of skin pulled aside to reveal her intestines with several thick black tendrils running through her body. “What are you doing to her?”

  He peered more closely and saw that one of the tendrils was moving slightly, as if it was slowly slithering across his sister's exposed liver.

  “What are you doing to her?” he shouted, turning to the woman.

  “An operation!” she replied, raising her hands in surrender.

  “What kind of operation?”

  “We...” She paused. “We had to check, we have to find out why she wasn't responding normally. Are you...” She paused. “Who are you?”

  “None of your goddamn business,” he muttered, reaching out and running his hand along the side of Karen's face. “Sis, it's me. Are you awake?”

  “She's sedated,” the nurse told him. “She can't feel anything.”

  “Wake her up.”

  “I...” She glanced at the drip that was running into Karen's left arm.

  “What is this thing?” Freeman asked, looking down at the tendrils that were still slithering through his sister's exposed intestines. “Are you trying to get it out?”

  “Not... Not exactly.”

  “Then tell me why she's being carved up like this.” He paused for a moment, unable to stop staring at the mess in his sister's body, before turning to look at the nurse's terrified, blank eyes. Feeling a sudden rush of rage, he hurried around the table and pushed her against the wall. “Tell me!” he shouted.

  “We're trying to find out why she's fighting back,” the woman spluttered.

  “What do you mean, fighting back?”

  “Her mind isn't dying the way it should.”

  “The way it should?”

  “She should have been taken over completely by now,” the nurse spluttered. “We knew some humans would be stronger than others, we knew there'd be problems, but she's been surprising us. We felt the best thing to do was to open her up and see what was happening inside.”

  “You make it sound like...” Spotting movement nearby, Freeman looked down at the floor and saw to his horror that a couple of black tendrils were extruding from the side of the man he'd shot a few minutes earlier. “You're not soldiers,” he whispered finally, as he realized what was happening. “You're just like those things!”

  “We are soldiers,” the nurse replied. “Just... on a different side.”

  He turned to her.

  Slamming him back against the table, the nurse grabbed an electric saw and hit the button on the side before lunging at him. Stepping out of the way, he grabbed her by the arm and pushed her hard against the wall before taking her wrist and cracking it over his knee, forcing her to drop the saw in the process. Twisting her around, he grabbed her by the throat and began to squeeze, while staring down into her eyes.

  “I knew something was up with this shit,” he said firmly.

  “You can't fight us,” the nurse gasped. “You can't even try. It's too late...”

  “So you came to help out your pals, did you?” he asked. “That figures. I wondered why your so-called soldiers were about as much use as limp lettuce.”

  “We're everywhere,” the nurse explained, barely able to breathe. “You want to kill us? You don't have a hope in hell.”

  “Don't I?” he asked, as he felt a tendril from the dead doctor starting to crawl onto his ankle. Without even looking, he turned his rifle around and fired twice into the floor, blasting the man's torso apart. Glancing down, he saw that the main mass of a creature was starting to spill out of the corpse's chest, so he aimed the rifle and fired again.

  “No!” the nurse screamed, trying to push back against him.

  “You don't like that, do you?” Freeman asked, squeezing her throat tighter. “You don't like it when one of your pals gets killed.”

  “We will remember our martyrs,” the woman hissed. “The Great Memnon will take them to join him in the world that is to come.”

  “This Great Memnon guy seems like he's in charge,” Freeman replied. “Where can I find him?”

  “All around. He exists on -”

  “Where specifically?” he sneered, forcing her down onto her knees as he aimed the barrel of his rifle at her forehead.

  “No-one knows,” she told him. “The Great Memnon was the first to leave the arks, and he ventured off to explore the promised land. He hasn't told us where he is, but we know he'll return to us one day soon and guide us to paradise.”

  “Oh Jesus,” Freeman said with a sigh, “have you guys already got that kind of crap going on?”

  “You will die,” she told him, as he squeezed her throat tighter and tighter. “All of you... will... die...”

  “Don't count on it,” he replied, letting go of her throat and stepping back. As she gasped for breath, he aimed his rifle and then fired once, blowing her head clean off her shoulders before forcing the rifle's tip down the stump of her neck and firing two more times, blasting her torso apart and sending the remains of severed tendrils flying across the room. Stepping back again, he took a deep breath for a moment as he watched the nurse's dead body slump down next to the doctor.

  “Chris...” a voice whispered nearby.

  Turning, he saw that Karen's eyes had started to open.

  “It's okay,” he said, propping his rifles against the wall before hurrying over to her. “I'm gonna get you out of here, Sis.”

  “It's in my mind,” she replied, her voice barely loud enough to be heard. “I can't fight it much longer, it's going to... take over completely...”

  “No chance,” he said, looking down at her exposed guts before glancing at the heart monitor. “I'm gonna get you to a proper hospital and they're gonna see you right.”

  “It's too... late for that...”

  “It's never too late,” he replied, before looking at her intestines again as he saw a thick black tendril winding its way around one of her kidneys. “It's...” He paused, his voice faltering. “It's never too late,” he said again. “They can help you.”

  “I...” She tried to say something, but her voice seemed to be choked and all she could manage was a few deep gasps of air.

  “Don't panic,” he told her, trying to sound optimistic. “Karen, do you remember when we were kids and I told you that a soldier never gives up?” He waited for a reply. “Do you? Karen, think back. I told you that, didn't I?”

  Again, she tried to speak. Again, nothing came from her lips except a faint rasping sound.

  “You're my sister,” he continued, “and I don't care what it takes, and I don't care how many doctors I have to take you to see, this can be fixed. We can get this thing out of you, we can sort out your body, you'll have however many operations it takes, however much physio and however much counseling, but...”

  Looking down, he saw that she was using a bloody finger-tip to draw a shape on one of the white sheets.

  “Are you trying to tell me something?” he asked. “Karen, what -”

  Stopping, he saw that she'd drawn an oval object with an opening on one end. He watched as her trembling finger drew a few more curves, followed by two long shapes protruding from the top. Finally, she used the last of her strength to add a bump on the back and then two dots in what appeared to be the head, along with some whiskers.

  “What is it?” Freeman asked. “Karen, what -”<
br />
  And then he realized.

  She'd drawn a rabbit, except that it had no legs. Just like the one in her surgery the previous day.

  “No,” he replied, with tears in his eyes. “No, Karen, please...” His voice trailed off as he saw the look in her eyes. It was the same look he remembered from when they were kids, playing together in the garden; inevitably he'd end up capturing some bugs or doing something else that was dumb, and she'd always flash him a sad, disappointed look that would snap him back to his moral center. She was using that same look now, except that this time he couldn't bear to accept that she was right.

  Her lips twitched slightly.

  Staring at the drawing of a rabbit, through tear-stained eyes, he finally turned and looked at the drip-bag hanging next to the bed. Recognizing the label, he realized it was a type of morphine that should, if opened fully, flood her system with sedatives and grant her a quick, painless death.

  “I can't,” he whispered, turning back to look down at her.

  Her eyes stared back at him, filled with tears and pleading with him to end her suffering.

  He paused, before leaning closer and kissing her on the forehead.

  “I love you,” he said finally. “Never told you that, did I? Not since we were kids, anyway, but... I love you, Karen. No-one could ever have asked for a better sister. If it wasn't for you, I would've ended up in a bad way.”

  He waited a moment longer, before kissing her forehead again and then turning to the drip. Grabbing the control slider, he opened it all the way and watched as the morphine mixture ran through the clear plastic tube and into his sister's wrist. A few seconds later, he felt her fingers touching his, and he looked down to see that she was trying to hold his hand. Wrapping his fingers around hers, he looked back at her face.

  “At least you're still you,” he said calmly, watching as she closed her eyes. “At least the damn thing didn't get control of you in the end.”

  As the heart monitor showed that she'd flat-lined, he looked down at her exposed intestines and saw that the black tendrils were moving faster now, as if the creature was panicking. A moment later, he saw the main mass of the creature emerging from behind her liver. Grabbing a set of tongs from the side, he used them to take hold of the creature and slowly pull it up until he could stare straight into its glistening, pulsating black core. After a few seconds, a fine dribble of black liquid began to fall down from the creature, splattering against Karen's body and causing her intestines to start sizzling.