The Zombie Virus (Book 1)

by Paul Hetzer

  I turned away in disgust and went to the panel that allowed for emergency decontamination of the facility. I typed in my passcode and selected the option for the entire Level 6. I gathered my notebooks and the disk with the electron microscope scans and on the way out of the lab selected the button on the computer that started the countdown to the sterilization event.

  I had fifteen minutes to get to the elevators and get my ass to the surface. Otherwise I would be locked down here permanently. A computer generated voice warned that the decontamination protocol was in effect and Level 6 decontamination would begin in t-minus fifteen minutes.

  The emergency lights began pulsing. I made my way through the airlocks, unsuited, decontaminated, then dressed and climbed into the elevator all in less than ten minutes.

  Sung and the girl Loony would be dead shortly.

  CHAPTER 5

  I had the Beretta in my hand when I exited the Facility. Fear formed a cold, hard knot in my stomach at the thought of what was waiting for me on the outside. I was leaving the normalcy of my past life behind, forever.

  I made a beeline for my car as soon as I was out the door, pressing the remote unlock button on my keychain as I bolted toward the parking lot. The car made its familiar double chirp and unlocked the doors.

  One of the Loonies, a dark-haired man with a narrow face who I had seen in the street earlier, was now on the grass strip between the parking lot and sidewalk. At the sound of the doors unlocking it looked up at the car, then over to me. It let out a loud, wailing growl and charged toward me at a fast run, its filthy business jacket half off and trailing behind it like a torn shadow.

  Two of the others were further down the street from when I had seen them an hour ago on the monitors, an older man and a young woman, both in soiled business attire. They turned at the sound and snarled like savage beasts when they saw me. I almost expected them to drop to all fours as they ran in my direction, emitting the same growling wail as the younger man.

  My car was between me and them. I was confident I would get there first if I could get past the Loony who was rapidly closing the gap between us. I was running flat out, trying to not let the terror rise up out of the pit of my stomach and turn to panic. I had to be a different man now.

  I could see the first Loony had the now familiar manic bloodshot eyes and red-flecked spittle trailing in streams from the corners of his mouth, his teeth bared in preparation for attack. At twenty feet I raised the Beretta and pulled the trigger twice. Two neat little holes from the 9mm slugs appeared in his forehead and the back of his head exploded. He dropped like a sack of concrete and rolled to a stop at my feet.

  Without altering my pace I jumped over him and sprinted the last thirty yards to my car. I got in and slammed the door just as the two other Loonies rammed into it. I tore my briefcase off my shoulder and threw it on the seat next to me and frantically hit the locks for the doors. The Loonies beat mindlessly with their fists at the door, biting at me through the window and covering it with a bloody froth. The woman tore three fingernails to the quick as she pried at the door frame.

  They continued with their unnervingly loud wail. The man slammed his face into my side window in an attempt to bite me through the glass, breaking off two of his incisors at the gum line, and blood gushed from his torn lip.

  He hit my window again with the full force of his head and a small crack appeared in the glass, his nose erupting in blood. With my hands shaking I tried to insert the key in the ignition, but dropped them to the floor. Despite my best efforts, panic rolled through my body like an earthquake. I shook uncontrollably while I fumbled around the floor for the keys.

  He hit the glass again and the woman climbed up onto the hood, biting at the windshield. The crack in the side window widened into little spider veins. I scrambled with my hand to find the keys, grasped them, inserted the ignition key into the slot and turned it all in one smooth motion. The engine caught immediately. It was only then that I realized I had been adding to the Loonies’ crazy chorus with my own screaming. The man hit the window again and the safety glass turned opaque, his face looked like bloody hamburger.

  I jammed the transmission into drive and slammed the gas pedal with my foot, squealing the tires as they lost traction momentarily with the pavement. The car shot forward and I spun the wheel to the right toward the exit.

  The woman flew from the hood onto the pavement and my Beretta flew off my lap onto the floor next to my seat. It was then that I noticed more Loonies running toward the parking lot from all points on the compass.

  I turned onto the street, and a Loony was there in front of me. I twisted the wheel to avoid him and clipped him solidly with the fender. His leg caved in and his face hit the side view mirror, shearing it from the car. I sped off down the street dodging those who tried to attack the car. I looked in my rearview mirror – there must have been a dozen of them racing down the road behind me. They were everywhere, coming out of the woodwork like maddened ants, drawn by the sound of the car as I drove by.

  I finally came to a place near the entrance to the base under a line of poplar trees where there were no Loonies. I stopped the car in the road with the engine running. My hands were shaking uncontrollably and my heart felt like it was going to beat itself through the wall of my chest.

  I took several slow, deep breaths to try and calm my racing heart and fished around on the floor until I found the Beretta. I holstered it at my hip and then opened the center console and retrieved my cell phone. It still showed a charge and a signal. I knew most cell substations had generators in case of grid power failure, although I didn’t know how long they had fuel for.

  I dialed my wife’s cell number as I checked my rearview mirror for anything approaching the car. The line connected.

  “Holly, are you okay?” I cried when I heard her voice.

  She was. The Loonies were all over the neighborhood, at least what of it she could see. She saw them whenever she dared peek out through the window shades upstairs. They had not attempted to get in, nor had they given any indication that they sensed her and Jeremy were in the house.

  I told her I was in my car, on the way home, and would get there as soon as possible. I told her we needed to make plans to get out of Dodge and to start getting the supplies together that we would need to take to the farm in Virginia, to do it quietly, and to stay armed at all times. I filled her in on what had happened with me since I had talked to her last night. I sent her and Jeremy my love and hung up.

  I started up the road again and through the main gate of the base. It was deserted. I turned right onto the main thoroughfare heading north. The roadway was littered with abandoned vehicles. Up ahead the entire three lanes southbound were blocked by a large pileup that still emitted wisps of smoke. The Loonies were all over, and converging rapidly on the sound of my car.

  When I rounded a stalled vehicle a young infected girl ran unavoidably in front of me, I hit her squarely, sending her into the windshield, cracking the glass on the passenger side. My field of view was narrowing.

  Three partially devoured bodies were in the road ahead of me next to a minivan with its doors all open. Two Loonies were huddled over the bodies. I gunned the car and it rocked violently when it plowed over the dead and living alike. I didn’t look back as I sped up the road.

  There were scenes of utter devastation. A strip mall and neighborhood were blackened ruins from a fire that had raged uncontrolled. Fires still burned in many of the buildings. My heart sank at the sight of so many infected milling about everywhere I looked in numbers that were frightening. To be uninfected and on foot would have meant certain death, or worse.

  I finally reached the bridge over the Patuxent River. There were a few cars stopped on it, but no Loonies that I could see. I worked my way up and over it. At the bottom two cars had collided and lay sideways blocking both lanes. I only hesitated for a moment then sped up and slammed my car between their interlocked front ends ramming them out of the way.
r />   Steam erupted from the hood of my car and the front end wobbled violently. I drove for about another mile before a metallic ‘ping’ reverberated loudly from the engine compartment and the car screeched to a halt. I sat there for what seemed like an eternity turning the key and willing the car to start up again.

  The heat of the day was invading the cab and I was quickly soaked in sweat. I glanced over to my right at a small strip mall a few hundred yards away and saw two Loonies that were making their way at a quick walk toward my dead car. More appeared from different directions.

  I turned the ignition off and on. There was only a weak ‘click’ from somewhere under the crumpled hood. I looked around me – I had to get out before I was surrounded by a mob of the insane. With the car sitting dead, their interest wasn’t peaked enough to cause them to rush my car. I had a few seconds, then I would have to be decisive. Once I was out and they caught sight of me, it would be an entirely different ball game.

  There was an abandoned car about fifty yards ahead of me on the side of the road and a large Ford pickup another fifty yards beyond that. If someone was sick and just couldn’t drive any further and had to abandon their car, my hope was that they hadn’t bothered to take their keys.

  I grabbed my briefcase and slung it over my shoulder, took a deep breath and tripped the door handle, throwing it open. I got out running. From my peripheral vision, I saw the two Loonies break into a sprint when they spotted me, joined by about a dozen others further behind them. My ears were filled with their wailing growl that grew louder as others joined in.

  I ran like the hounds of Hell were descending on me.

  I was drenched in sweat when I reached the car. I risked a quick glance behind me. They were maybe fifty yards back. I grabbed the door handle of the car and hurriedly yanked it open. I was about to jump in when the stench from the interior reached me – a combination of shit, piss, and the sugary sweet smell of the infected.

  A blonde girl who must have been in her teens was lying across the front seat looking severely dehydrated. An emaciated arm sporting an array of colorful bracelets feebly reached out to me. It snarled weakly, displaying a set of pearly white teeth. It must have been trapped in the July heat of the car for days without the intelligence to determine how to get itself out. I kicked its hand back in and slammed the door, backing up in horror.

  The others were almost on me. I took off like a shot up the road with the infected close on my heels. I could almost feel them breathing down my neck as I sprinted toward the truck. I could hear the sound of their shoe soles pounding on the pavement very close behind me. It would be very close.

  The Ford’s driver’s door hung open.

  Something clawed at my back and grasped hold of my shirt. I twisted and ran harder, and heard the fabric tear. I had no time to draw my weapon, the only option was the truck.

  I reached the pickup steps ahead of the two growling creatures and dove into the passenger compartment, rolling onto my back. They were on top of me through the door, pawing and clawing their way up my legs, one on top of the other. I kicked frantically, connecting with the gruff face of one man and driving it out the door, the other was trying to bite my legs but I kept kicking, denying it the chance.

  Finally my heel landed a blow on its shoulder and forced it backwards as the first Loony was trying to crawl back in through the open door over the other’s back. I drew the Beretta, pointed it toward the attacking creatures and pulled the trigger, trying not to shoot my own legs in the process. I wasn’t sure how many times I shot. I just pulled the trigger until the doorway was empty.

  I sat up and saw the two Loonies writhing on the ground in pools of bright blood, one with its lower jaw and neck blown apart.

  I grabbed the door handle and slammed the truck’s door shut. My ears were ringing loudly from the gun shots and my heart trip-hammered in my chest. I was drenched in sweat and nauseous with fear.

  Suddenly, one of the Loonies was up and outside the window trying to claw its way in. Blood poured from bullet wounds in its shoulder and arm. Others were arriving behind it. I frantically looked around the truck, the interior was empty.

  The keys were there, dangling in the ignition. I said a quick thank you under my breath and holstered the pistol. Now if only the battery still had enough juice in it to turn over the engine after days of sitting with the door hanging open.

  I said a silent prayer as I turned the ignition key. The truck roared to life. Relief flooded through my body until I glanced outside. The infected were swarming over the truck. Several had climbed into the bed while others where clawing their way onto the hood and beating on the side windows.

  I slammed the gearshift into drive and sped off, spilling bodies around me. One clung tenaciously to the brush guard until the large AT tire caught its foot and ripped its body loose, crushing it beneath the tire when I accelerated. I had lost one of my shoes in the fight and a pant leg was torn nearly its entire length. Thankfully I hadn’t been bitten or had my skin broken by their filthy fingernails.

  Three Loonies were hanging on in the bed of the pickup while another had a tenacious one armed grip around the driver’s side mirror. Blood coated the outside of the window giving the creature even more of a macabre look. Its blood red eyes stared at me through the window and the jaws worked in anticipation of the kill. I threw the truck sideways and sped up the road at breakneck speed.

  The creature lost its grip along with another in the back of the truck bed. It landed face first on the road and its head came apart. Both of them looked like rag dolls as they bounced and rolled on the pavement. Neither one got up.

  I passed two more empty vehicles partially off the road and slowed to a crawl. As I did so the two remaining Loonies stood up in the truck bed and charged toward the back window. I jammed the accelerator with my shoeless foot. The truck lurched forward and both Loonies flew backwards over the tailgate and landed hard on the pavement. They were up instantly and tearing off after me, one with an appreciable limp. I quickly left them behind and they were soon out of sight.

  Within minutes I was pulling into the road that led to my neighborhood. I was exhausted. I wanted to wake up from this nightmare. How could I keep on fighting these creatures like this? Home was drawing me like a beacon with the thought of my young wife’s arms and comforting smile waiting there for me. She and my ten-year-old son were all the reason I needed to persevere. They had to survive this. I would not let them become one of those things, or food for them.

  I turned onto my street. There were infected moving aimlessly throughout the neighborhood. As soon as they heard or saw the truck, their pace picked up and it was as if I was the Pied Piper with a horde of bloodthirsty human rats following me down the road. I knew I couldn’t go to my house leading this ravenous mob of enraged murderous creatures to my doorstep.

  I stopped the truck.

  Loonies appeared from the green manicured yards beside and ahead of me while the pursuing crowd of growling, jostling infected was nearly to the back of the truck. I looked around me in a dreamlike state, exhausted from long, hard days of work and little sleep.

  It was a beautiful but hot summer day, the sky was a deep indigo blue. The sun crept to the western horizon and small cotton white cumulus clouds drifted lazily across my view. Not a single contrail graced the sky. The truck’s air conditioning had dried the sweat on my arms and face, and everything felt normal for a moment.

  I looked outside again, it all seemed so surreal. It would be so easy to give in.

  Fuck that! I let out a bloody scream and shifted the gear lever into reverse, stomping on the gas. The truck sped backward plowing into the first of the Loonies. Then I was into the bulk of them. The truck bounced up and down, crushing bodies beneath its massive tires. A staccato banging sound rang out loudly from the multiple bodies bouncing off of the tailgate as I rolled though the horde of infected. Arms clawed at the side of the truck when I sped by.

  I was soon free of the mob. I sp
un the wheel and the truck skidded 180 degrees facing out of the neighborhood. I drove out and turned onto the main road, parking about one hundred yards up on the shoulder. Behind me the infected that could still move were chasing after the truck.

  I sat there with the engine idling, the guttural growl of the 5.4 liter Triton engine reverberating off of the trees beside me. It gave me a powerful feeling and I felt safer than I probably actually was. Bring it on you bastards! I thought to myself as I looked in the rearview mirror at the approaching mob. We’re going to play a little game of hide ‘n’ seek!

  There was a back way onto the street where my house was located, an old overgrown logging road used by ATV’s and BMXers. It connected to the main road a half mile ahead. I put the Ford into four wheel drive. The Loonies were pouring around the corner and onto the main road, closing fast.

  I revved the engine and hit the horn on the truck, sounding long blasts. A startled flock of birds took to wing from the trees. I started the truck moving forward at a running pace, still laying on the horn. I looked in the rearview and saw the stragglers and injured infected rounding the turn out of my neighborhood, following the larger crowd that was sprinting after the truck.

  I continued on, leading them away from my family.

  I reached the turn to the old road which was nothing more than a couple of weed filled ruts through the trees and brush. Behind me the horde closed the distance, though still a few hundred yards back. I turned the pickup onto the logging trail. Branches slapped at the windshield and hood as I sped off down the road, the stiff suspension bouncing me off the seat when I hit the puddle filled potholes.

  I traversed the trail quickly, now wishing the truck’s exhaust was a bit quieter. My wife, son and I had walked this trail many times over the years, although it looked eerily unfamiliar from the high vantage point of the truck. The trail spilled out into the back lot of a neighbor’s house.