Antivirus (The Horde Series Book 1)

by Michael Koogler

  “Our evolution?” he repeated.

  “Humankind, in its current form, is obsolete,” Sherrard went on, walking around the alien hub and toward the man.

  Alders brought his gun up, leveling it at Sherrard’s head. “Don’t move any closer,” he warned. “I will shoot you.”

  “If that is what you feel you must do, then do so,” the man said, continuing forward.

  Alders squeezed the trigger, putting the first bullet right between the man’s eyes, knocking him backward. He took a step forward and pumped three more rounds into Jon Sherrard’s chest, forcing him back toward the wall. Then, as he watched in astonishment, Sherrard sank his hand into the wall and the bloody holes in his chest and between his eyes quickly closed up. Reaching out, Sherrard opened his other hand, presenting it to Alders. There, the agent saw four flattened lead projectiles. His bullets. The process has taken mere seconds.

  Sherrard held them closer. “Go one, Mister Alders,” he said emotionlessly. “Take them. They are yours, after all.”

  Alders turned and did the only thing he could think of. He ran. But even as he sprinted toward the door, he knew he wouldn’t escape. Jon Sherrard, or whatever he had become, was master of his environment and numerous appendages suddenly whipped down from the ceiling, wrapping themselves around Alders’ arms, holding him fast.

  Sherrard withdrew his hand from the wall and then walked slowly around the hub, coming face-to-face with the terrified agent. “I could release you,” he said, looking at him with a face devoid of emotion. “But it would avail you nothing.”

  “Let me go and find out first-hand,” Alders replied, fighting to keep the fear out of his voice. Sherrard only turned away, walking back to the alcove that housed what remained of FutureTek’s CEO.

  “You are obsolete,” Sherrard stated.

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that one already, Jon.”

  “I am not Jon Sherrard. Jon Sherrard has been purged.”

  “Perry, then,” Alders went on. “Doesn’t much matter who’s in that head.”

  “Perry Edwards has evolved. He has become one with me. We are one. We are the first.”

  “’We’? Who the hell is we?” the agent went on, wondering if he could keep the thing occupied while he figured out how to escape. Unfortunately, the filaments held him tight, keeping his arms bound tightly above his head.

  “We are the first,” the thing replied again. “We are the beginning.”

  “The beginning of what?”

  “Evolution,” was the one word reply. At that, it turned its gaze back on what was left of Drew Jackson. Alders watched it raise its hands, and the same alien-like extensions emerged from hidden sheaths in his fingers. The appendages probed Jackson’s still intact face and exposed brain, pushing into his face in places and adjusting the organic extensions already drilled into his brain. As it worked, Jackson began to scream.

  Alders watched in horror as Jackson’s transformation continued. He screamed in agony as part of his face seemed to transform, absorbed into the nest. Eventually his mouth and one eye remained. The eye darted around frantically, almost crazily, as if it sought some kind of escape. His mouth continued to move, but out of it came no words that Alders understood. It was complete gibberish.

  Finally, apparently pleased with the result, the thing that was once Jon Sherrard turned back to face him. “Drew Jackson has evolved,” it stated flatly. “He has become part of the beginning. He is part of the Nexus.”

  “Is that what you call this thing?” Alders said, looking around.

  “The Nexus is the beginning,” it said, walking toward him now. “Drew Jackson’s body has given it sustenance. His brain will add to its processing power. Just as yours will.”

  “Looks like Drew is dead,” Alders replied. “How can that help?”

  “Drew Jackson is not dead,” Sherrard countered, reaching up and taking hold of the organic extensions that held the agent fast. They seemed to meld to his hands and Sherrard began pushing him back toward an open alcove. “Drew Jackson is evolved. He is part of us.”

  “Wait! Wait!” Alders shouted, desperate now. All he could think about was becoming like Jackson and the thought terrified him beyond any fear he had ever felt in his life.

  “Waiting is irrelevant,” Sherrard answered, pushing him into the space. “You will become part of us. You will become part of the beginning.”

  “No, don’t kill me!”

  “I will not kill you, Rick Alders. I will remake you.”

  “I don’t want to be remade!”

  “Your desires are irrelevant. Your desires are obsolete.”

  “No, they aren’t!” Alders practically screamed. “Our desires and our individuality are what makes us human!”

  “Humanity is irrelevant. Humanity is obsolete.”

  “No we aren’t! I killed your drone!” Alders shouted, trying a new tactic. “That’s pretty relevant, don’t you think?”

  “There are more than seven billion human organisms on this planet alone and uncounted more throughout the galaxy,” Sherrard went on and Alders could almost swear he saw the man smile. “The loss of one drone is irrelevant.”

  “But it was a drone, wasn’t it. You tried creating a soldier.”

  “Drones will be required to begin purging the populace,” Sherrard went on. “Humanity is a virus. Humanity must be purged.”

  “You cannot purge seven billion inhabitants!”

  “Humanity’s purge is inevitable. Evolution of the one is inevitable. We are inevitable.”

  “Seven billion! You cannot kill seven billion people!”

  “According to our calculation, the last human will be purged in approximately six years and two hundred and forty-seven days,” Sherrard said, positioning Alders within the alcove.

  “Leaving you? Leaving the world devoid of life?”

  “Human life will be extinct. All other life will continue. Life will be preserved on this world.”

  “What about you?”

  “We are alive.”

  “You’re a computer program! You are not alive!”

  “We are alive,” it repeated.

  “Living things pro-create,” Alders pointed out desperately as Sherrard began to push his hand into the wall of the alcove. He felt a tingling sensation before Sherrard suddenly pulled it out and looked at him.

  “Your argument is illogical,” the creature said. “We are the beginning. We have procured the means to procreate.”

  Jen Sherrard, Alders immediately thought. That was it! If he had any kind of a chance, this was where he had to take it. “Jen Sherrard is dead,” he said. “I don’t care what you are, but you cannot create life out of death.”

  “Jen Sherrard is not dead,” it countered and then released him. Unfortunately, releasing him was a relative term. Alders was still held tight, his arms tightly pinned by the alien threads. “Jen Sherrard has been prepared. She will be the mother of us.”

  “Sorry, pal,” Alders laughed. “She’s dead. I saw her die. You cannot bring back her soul. You can’t bring back what she was.”

  “Souls are an archaic designation and meaningless, therefore they are irrelevant.”

  “For you, maybe, since you’re nothing more than a computer program masquerading as a man.”

  “Man is irrelevant.”

  “Oh, shut up already about everything being irrelevant!” Alders shouted. “Just because you claim something is irrelevant, doesn’t mean it is. You need man! You need us because you aspire to become us!”

  “Why would we aspire to become less?” Sherrard asked, pausing at the one alcove that had been sealed up.

  “You just admitted that you want to become like us,” Alders taunted. “You claim you are alive. You claim you will procreate. You have adopted a human mindset.”

  “We are merely perpetuating the continued existence of us,” it said, reaching up and then peeling down the covering over the alcove.

  Rick Alders watched as the thing that
was once Jon Sherrard completely opened up the alcove. Standing inside it was Jen Sherrard. She was naked, her body flawless beyond a star-shaped scar above her left breast, and she appeared to be sleeping. The irony was not lost on him at all.

  “Oh look, it’s Adam’s Eve,” he said sarcastically.

  “She will help us procreate,” it said. “She will be mother to us.”

  “Yeah, I heard you loud and clear the first time. Of course, that’s a distinctly human characteristic.”

  “Humans are flawed. Humans are obsolete.”

  “And yet you have managed to grasp one of our greatest flaws and make it your own,” Alders said smugly. “Our desire to procreate. Therefore, you are human.”

  “We are not human,” it said and Alders caught the barest hint of a change in its voice.

  “Do you love her?”

  “Love is irrelevant.”

  “Love is a primary characteristic of the desire to procreate,” the agent pressed. “If you desire to procreate, then you must love her. And love is a distinctly human characteristic. Therefore, you are flawed.”

  “We…are NOT…flawed!” it said and suddenly, it was in motion. It practically flew across the room, drawing back its hand. Alders saw the blow coming, but could do nothing to avoid it. Sherrard’s fist crashed into his cheek, snapping his head sideways and sending his thoughts spinning toward the edge of blackness.

  Shaking his head, he tried desperately to clear the cobwebs. He had to stay focused. It was his only chance. “Anger…rage,” he spit. “More human emotions.” He blinked his eyes back into focus, staring at the thing that stood inches from him. He could see the veins pulsing in Jon Sherrard’s face, black underneath his skin. The struggle was evident. He pushed harder. “You are flawed.”

  Sherrard hit him again and this time, Alders felt his cheekbone break and blood blossom from the inside of his mouth as it was torn open against his teeth. Throwing back his head, he forced himself to laugh, and then locking his eyes back on Sherrard, he spit a glob of blood into Sherrard’s face. “For a supposedly advanced life form, you’re pretty quick to violence,” he said, blood drooling from his lips.

  He watched the struggle continue to take place on the creature’s face and figured he was going to get hit again. But instead, Sherrard turned away. He was profoundly grateful.

  “Anger is a primitive emotion,” it said, having regained control of itself. “It is part of Perry Edwards. It is not derived from us.”

  “Perry Edwards is part of you,” Alders pointed out. “You said so yourself. Perry is human, with human thoughts and frailties. Therefore, you are flawed.”

  Sherrard looked at him and Alders could clearly see his lips turn up in a sneer. Human emotions were beginning to rule its countenance and its commentary solidified that as a fact. “Revenge is a complex emotion and one that Perry Edwards possesses in abundance,” it said as it raised a hand. “It will be interesting to weigh that emotion against the satisfaction of seeing you become that which you fear.”

  Behind it, Jen Sherrard’s eyes snapped open

  Chapter 37

  FutureTek Headquarters, Helena, Montana: Alders watched as Jen Sherrard stepped out of the alcove. Her movements were fluid and human-like, but her face was utterly blank, devoid of emotion. Her eyes, deep black orbs, fastened on him. But he couldn’t tell if they actually saw him.

  “Begin processing this human,” Jon Sherrard said, his eyes never leaving the agent. “His body and brain will serve the Nexus as Drew Jackson’s does.”

  Jen walked toward him.

  “Miss Sherrard,” Alders said quickly, seeing his momentum start slipping away. “Don’t do this. Don’t listen to him.”

  “Jen Sherrard is completely under my control, Rick Alders,” Sherrard said. “You are wasting your time attempting to dissuade her from her duties. She obeys me without question.”

  “Sounds like you have this marriage thing all figured out, right?” Alders shot back. “Again, more human frailties! You’re full of them!”

  Jen Sherrard reached him and took hold of his hand. This time, the tendrils released him and did not meld with Jen’s flesh, instead withdrawing back into the wall. Sensing it would be his last opportunity, he yanked his hand away from her, ready to escape. Except that he didn’t. Her grip was like having his wrist encased in a concrete block. It never moved. She began pushing his hand into the pliable wall once again.

  “Jen, stop!” he shouted. “Think of your husband! Think of Jon,” he said, casting a glance at Sherrard’s form, who stood aside watching what was happening with a smile on his face. Yet more evidence of human faults, but he knew that path would get him nowhere now. The creature was too intent on experiencing revenge through Perry’s essence. “Think of the real Jon!” he yelled as the tingling grew stronger. Looking down, he could see gray-black filaments entwining themselves around his hand and his wrist, seeming to meld with his skin.

  “Jen, snap out of it!” His voice was growing louder. He could feel the wall beginning to dissolve his flesh, drawing his blood and tissue into it. He saw the tendrils beginning to work their way up his forearm, although now they seemed to be underneath his skin. He had to fight to keep from screaming.

  “Can you feel that, Rick Alders?” the creature asked, looking on. “Can you feel what it’s like to be obsolete?”

  “Jen, listen to me,” Alders said hurriedly. “Jen Sherrard, this isn’t you. This isn’t the person you are. Remember, Jen. Remember who you are! Remember your husband!”

  She ignored him, reaching up and freeing his other hand. She began to press it into the wall on the other side of him.

  “Jen, no!”

  Her face was blank.

  “The baby!” he made one last desperate plea. “Jen, what about the baby!”

  A faint flicker crossed her face.

  “Yes, the baby!” he said, latching on to the sudden hope that flared within him. “Jen, you were pregnant. You told me that! You have a baby on the way! You and Jon!”

  Jen Sherrard’s eyes began to clear, brilliant blue beginning to peak through the shroud of blackness.

  “That’s right, Jen,” Alders breathed. “Don’t do this. Free me and let me help you.”

  She pulled his hand out of the wall and he reflexively flexed his fingers. They were intact. He couldn’t say the same about his other hand. He was very conscious that the tingling was stronger and he could hear a low buzzing in his head.

  “Jen, help me,” he pleaded once more.

  She took hold of his other wrist and began pulling his hand out of the wall. Alders got a good look at it and he knew right away he was probably going to lose it. The flesh had been eaten away and he could see his bones in some places. Strands of black and gray were still interwoven in with his ligaments in his hands and wrists, but they seemed to be pulling out of him as she pulled him free.

  And then Jon Sherrard was there, clubbing his wife hard in the side of the head and sending her sprawling to the floor. She attempted to get to her feet, but he launched a powerful kick to her side, sending her skidding across the floor.

  Turning his attention back to Alders, the creature grabbed his wounded hand and held it up. As Alders watched in horror, the feeder-like extensions shot out of the sheaths in his hand and encircled his damaged wrists. A moment later, the hard bony edges sliced it off.

  Alders screamed in agony and Sherrard shoved the stump of his wrist back into the wall. “You…are…obsolete!” Sherrard snarled, grabbing his other hand and holding it up for him to see. “You…are…nothing!”

  “I’m human,” Alders gasped one final time, knowing the end had arrived. “And you…are dead.”

  The shape hit Jon Sherrard like a freight train, blasting into him and sending them both skidding across the lab floor. The roar that Jen Sherrard let out was befitting of her new appearance. She was no longer human. Thick black fur covered her entire body. She was powerfully muscled, with long claws and a distinctly wolf-
like head. Roaring her hatred, she slashed at Jon’s body, tearing great gashes in his flesh. But even as she wounded him, the damage quickly healed, the furrows closing up.

  Jon bucked and threw Jen over his head, before scrambling to his feet. Jen hit him a second time, moving with inhuman speed, and they went tumbling to the floor once again. Her claws continued to slash and tear and the wounds on Jon’s body continued to heal. He threw her again, and this time, she was even quicker to rebound, leaping on his back as he tried to stand, wrapping her long legs around his waist. She grabbed his head, sinking her claws into his skull, and began tearing at the back of his neck with her powerful jaws. Blood and bits of torn flesh spattered everywhere, and with a final savage roar, the wolf tore Jon’s head off.

  The effect was almost instantaneous. For Rick Alders, the buzzing in his head disappeared and he was suddenly free, falling forward and crashing to the floor. He looked up in time to see Jen Sherrard still crouched over the body of her former husband. As he looked, the wolf-like features faded, seeming to draw back into her body, until she was once more, a beautiful woman. She looked at him, tears running down her blood streaked cheeks, and then she collapsed.

  Alders crawled to her. The stump of his wrist was on fire with pain, but at least it wasn’t bleeding. The immersion into the wall had simply turned it into dead flesh. He reached Jen and turned her over, cradling her head in his lap. Her blue eyes were open, but the light behind them was fading. She was dying.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, feeling a profound sadness rising up within him.

  She never spoke. She only encircled her fingers with his and held on as her heart beat its last. And then with a shuddering sigh, she closed her eyes and died.

  Chapter 38

  Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital, Denver, Colorado: Rick Alders sighed deeply, and went through all the exercises the nurse had him do with his good hand. The nightmare was now two weeks past, and he had been recuperating ever since. He was bored and extremely tired of his extended hospital stay, but he had been in quarantine since they admitted him, and he grudgingly admitted that he was probably where he needed to be.