by Citroner, GW
“Take it easy, Hastings. This is important. We need to move the operation to greener pastures sooner rather than later. How many modified troops are left?”
“With the new girl, we’ve got a team of eight people and four dogs ready to go.”
“We had twelve last week!”
“I’m sorry. We lost four yesterday, they died unexpectedly – the effects of the modified infection were still unpredictable when they were changed. They were healthy enough in the beginning but we knew our first attempts risked fatal brain swelling. We fixed that already, we won’t lose anymore.”
“What about these dogs, will the same thing happen to them?”
“I don’t know, we haven’t studied the long-term effects of infection on an animal yet. In case they don’t work out as planned, there is another possibility. The wild dogs may be more stable in the long term. They could be domesticated with the right drugs and shock collar training.”
“How feasible is it to capture one of them for tests?”
“I don’t know, and if we do, I’m not sure if it’s worth the trouble. They, any mutated animals like them, are something we’re probably going to have to eradicate, like the wolves in Europe.”
“There aren’t any wolves in Europe.”
“Yes, sir, that’s what I meant. They were driven to extinction by people, because they were an unacceptable danger.”
Manning stopped for a moment and considered the late summer sunset as it painted a fiery kaleidoscope of colors against the western sky.
“What about the scopolamine, any negative effects? Will they perform well?”
“Don’t worry, sir. They’re fine, although they may start showing some cognitive issues in the long-term.”
“That’s understandable. I understand the new treatment works perfectly, right? And we can make more troops as needed.”
Manning rode away. Hastings walked back to the hospital in the fading light.
***
“They caught him before he got two miles out of town. He was shot and left to hang from a lamp post as a warning.”
“Poor bastard, Craddoc said he was heading out to his brother’s place in Montana.”
“That’s why the perimeter guard was tightened up to just around downtown today.”
Dan continued. “But the worst of it is who strung him up – people we haven’t seen before. They wear black and cover their faces with balaclavas. All I saw was eyes, red eyes. Just like Lily has now.”
Ty’s eyes opened wide with surprise “No…”
“Yeah, it looks like there’s more to this ‘cure’ than we’ve been told. I don’t know what’s going on, but this Manning character may have convinced the ones they treated to join him in whatever he’s got planned.”
“How many did you see?”
“Just six or seven of them, two looked small enough to be women, but I’m not sure.”
“Has anyone spoken with them?”
“They don’t talk, and we have orders to never say a word to them. I’ll admit, knowing what they did to Craddoc – well, that’s fine by me.”
“Dan, what if Lily is on that patrol?”
“Then I don’t know. We won’t leave her behind, but this is beyond our ability to handle. They’ll probably kill her if she tries to leave. But I have to get to my wife and boy one way or another. Think about it. If we’re overwhelmed here, what’s it like in the rest of the country? I’m not delaying any longer than I have to.”
“Danny, she’s our friend.”
“I know, she’s a good kid and we went through a lot together, but now she can take care of herself. Hell, she could probably take us both out if she wanted, without breaking a sweat.”
“We need to talk with her before we decide anything.”
“We’ll try.”
“Besides, the odds of making it out of here in one piece just got better.”
“Why?”
Ty reached behind his back and then slowly pulled out the Glock he’d acquired back in Hillsboro.
“Is that the same one?”
“Yup, and I’ve got your shotgun in that cupboard behind you and enough ammo to last all the way to Louisiana, if we’re careful.”
“How?”
“It was Craddoc. He said they sent him to Newsome’s dealership after it was hit by the infected. He found our guns and hid them here in the fire station – I guess he was already planning on getting out of here by then. He gave me back the Glock the day he left. He said we should get out as soon as possible.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“No, that was it. He gave me back our guns and left. That was last I saw of him.”
“Poor guy, he tried to do the right thing by us. He deserved better.”
Ty yawned, and then said “Listen, Dan. It’s late and we have a lot to think about. Let’s call it a night. Do you wanna take the shotgun with you?”
Thinking it over, Dan shook his head. “Better not, too risky. Keep it in the cupboard with the ammo for now. I’ll head back now. At least I don’t have to worry about training civilians in the morning. Ready or not, they’re all on patrol now.”
“You think any of them would let us slip by?”
“Manning’s people guard the perimeter, for now. Who knows what it’ll look like tomorrow, or the day after – soldiers have been vanishing one by one, and not all of them killed in attacks. I’m sure Craddoc’s execution has spooked a lot more of them. Soon there won’t be anybody left to stop us.”
“I’m wondering how long before enough infected gather in the area to make a concerted attack. If enough of them hit us at once, no one’s going anywhere.” Ty stared at the lantern pensively. “I don’t think anybody’s plans are going to workout in the end, theirs or ours.”
Fifteen
Fifteen floors above the night darkened streets a cool wind gave relief from the late summer heat, Sergeant Juan ‘Johnny’ Hernandez ran a rough hand over his dark, close cropped hair and considered if shaving it all off would make the humidity a bit more bearable.
His radio blared suddenly. “Hernandez, this is Thompson. What’s your twenty?”
“Rooftop, same building I’ve been patrolling for the last hour. What’s up?”
“It’s too quiet, – nothing since we shot up the last bunch.”
“Three hours without anything on the perimeter? Have you been sleeping on the job, Thompson?”
“Shit, no!” Hernandez grinned at the response. Anyone stupid enough to close his eyes out here, even for a minute, wasn’t likely to open them again.
“You’re right, that’s pretty strange,” speaking to the rest of his squad, Hernandez commanded, “Franklin, Garcia, Wong, Trembley report!”
One by one, each man confirmed Thompson’s observation. After a day of almost non-stop action, there were no sightings in the past few hours.
Hernandez was suspicious. Something’s up, they’ve been swarming through the streets for days. I know we didn’t kill them all, where else could they be?
“Shit! Thompson, we need to check the sewers. Everyone assemble at the corner of eighth in five!”
“What about the lookouts? We won’t know what’s in the streets without eyes above the ground.”
“Don’t worry about what’s on the ground; the problem is what the hell might be going on under it. Everybody, move out!”
Adjusting the squad’s only night vision goggles more comfortably on his face, Hernandez grabbed his weapon and sprinted for the dark stairs leading down to the street.
The sewers, we never secured the sewers – they couldn’t have figured that one out. There’s a thousand miles of pipes underneath the city. They could come up anywhere, like downtown.
Racing down the stairwell, every detail standing out brilliantly in the green light of night vision, he was tempted to break protocol and pass each turn without checking first. He paused at each landing and scanned quickly, eyes moving in line with his gunsight, finger ready to del
iver a quick three round burst at anything that moved.
The minutes passed by, agonizingly slow.
The final stairwell let out in an alley where the dumpster was located. This flight was much longer than the rest, with a narrow twist at the bottom, beyond which he couldn’t see. Desperate to confirm his suspicions, he carelessly raced down, slammed against the landing’s cinderblock wall, and rapidly sighted his weapon toward the exit.
He’d locked the door before beginning his vertical patrol, but now it was jammed open with an old office chair. Who was stupid enough to do that? Hernandez never found out; he lived long enough to see the flesh eaten off his arms and legs by the infected humans that had quietly followed him since the eighth floor.
“Where’s Hernandez?”
The patrol stood around a manhole cover.
“Should’ve been here already,” said Franklin. He called tersely on the radio, “Hernandez, come in!” They waited expectantly, but there was no reply.
“No time to wait, Garcia use the lid lifter, everyone else cover him.”
Darkness and a dank stench bloomed from the uncovered space. Garcia pointed his weapon down and saw a grubby steel ladder in the gleam of his tactical light.
Thompson said quietly “Alright, who’s gonna take a look?”
Trembley spoke first. “Look at what?”
Garcia laughed. “Whatever’s in the hole, dumbass.”
Wong dug into a cargo pocket and pulled out the small metal mirror he used to check around corners. “Somebody shine a flashlight down there while I use this to see what’s up without getting eaten. Garcia and Franklin, you guys get ready to drop that lid back on the hole, fast.”
Dropping to his knees, Wong gingerly dipped his hand below street level and stared at the reflecting surface. He saw it just beyond the manhole. Fiery red eyes glowed in the glaring white light. He pissed himself.
Through gritted teeth, he hissed. “Close it up!” The lid clanged hollowly back into place.
“Hernandez is probably dead, but he was right. They’re down there. Everyone back to the Humvee, I’ll radio base while we’re riding back.”
“How many are down there?” asked Garcia.
“Too many. We need to get back.”
They sped through the dark, empty streets. Thompson sent a warning. “We’ve got infected in the sewers. They’re heading your way. Does anybody copy?”
He repeated his message several more times but there was no reply. Thompson feared it was too late. The last few blocks to their destination, it became clear that they were in deep trouble. People were running away from the protected area followed by the infected. Thompson swung the vehicle’s spotlight around to see what was happening. Someone lay on the street torn open like a butchered pig, the space inside raw and empty. Carrying a baby, one woman sped straight into the teeth of a mutant dog. Screaming merged with the sound of snapping bones and chewed flesh.
Thompson tore his eyes away, pointing the light straight ahead. “Get ready – were heading for hell.”
Garcia stared at the carnage and saw his death. “Mother of God, were screwed.”
A pack of infected dogs joined the speeding vehicle, easily keeping pace with it as they approached fifty miles per hour. Trembley asked, “I want to know why they’re only following on one side?”
The pack hit the car in one coordinated attack, throwing the vehicle over on its roof.
Dazed and bloodied, every man knew it was his last ride.
Gunfire exploded from every window as each soldier did his best to take down the animals before they could get in. One by one, the guns went silent as each man ran out of ammo, but the beasts kept coming.
Franklin smiled. “I saved one. See you boys on the other side.” Putting the rifle barrel under his chin, he fired.
Garcia chuckled. “Shit, he saved one for himself. Was anybody else smart enough to do that? I’m all out. Can somebody please fucking shoot me?”
Sixteen
Lily was on patrol with her squad of ‘improved’ humans; she was indistinguishable from her teammates in black fatigues and face-concealing balaclava. Unlike those assigned to patrol the perimeter to keep the infected out, they were ordered to keep the civilian population inside. An order they took literally due to their drugged state of unquestioning obedience. Unfortunately, they couldn’t adapt to changes in circumstance without explicit instructions. The handler for this shift was one of the first killed, so they were very much on their own. Ignored by their wilder cousins, they were free to follow their last orders; prevent all civilians from leaving the area.
Consequently, Lily and company were having a very busy night. They’d already shot dozens of unarmed people trying to escape the deadly attack. Someone grabbed her service belt and pulled hard to get her away from the young woman she was standing over, intent on shooting a hole through her skull.
Killing that target, she whirled on the other and stove in his chest with a well-placed strike of the rifle’s buttstock. He fell backwards, taking the belt with him. She turned and commanded her war dog to finish him. The creature greedily tore flesh from bone and she went back to the business at hand.
Hastings was working in the heavily secured lab when the virus-mutated creatures began pouring out of the sewers, so he was still alive. Ironically, his colleagues were themselves eaten over a late dinner as the infected stormed the cafeteria.
A few miles away, Dan and Ty pulled out of the firehouse.
Ty looked at the dash. “We’ve only got a couple of gallons and the Ambulance doesn’t get great mileage.”
“Head toward City Hall.”
“Are you kidding? It’s worse there than anyplace else.”
“They might have cars in the lot. It’s the best solution I can think of right now.”
“I’d rather be eaten trying to get as far away as possible.”
“Stop being so positive.”
“Do we try to find Lily? There’s no way to call her on the radio, anybody listening in will know what we’re doing.”
“Look, if we find her, she comes with us, but I’m not holding out much hope; the infected broke through and it’s a madhouse.” What they heard on the radio wasn’t very promising; civilians are panicking, checkpoints overwhelmed, casualties mounting. Nobody answered requests for help.
Manning strode obliviously through the chaos, having shed his command persona in favor of Hartman’s more personable one. In a crisis, his men needed stern guidance rather than cold commands.
His goal was to collect as many as he could and evacuate the area with everything they needed to start over, especially the results of his researcher’s efforts.
With single-minded focus, he marched through gunfire and violent death to reach the hospital’s morgue and basement lab. Arriving, he saw that discipline had not only broken down on the streets, but also below them.
“Who’s that? You’re supposed to be guarding that door Wembley, get up!” Wembley would have gladly obeyed if not for the bullet he’d fired into the side of his head. “And where the hell is Hastings?”
Hastings had locked the doors when news of the street-level chaos reached him on the radio, only sneaking a quick look when a single shot rang out behind them. If the guard thought suicide preferable to fighting, now was time to go.
In the basement lab, Hastings prepared. He collected doses of the modified virus, scopolamine, syringes, and carefully stored them in the backpack he would carry out with him. Finally, he donned the patrol uniform he’d hidden against this eventuality. The dead guard’s pistol he’d get on his way out.
Armed and wearing fatigues, pack, boots, and helmet, Hastings was indistinguishable from any of Manning’s men. He hadn’t considered that a problem, until he unsecured the lab doors and Manning was waiting there.
“What are you doing down here you sniveling son of a bitch! Men are dying up there while you hide your cowardly ass down here!” He quickly raised his gun.
“Wha
t? Wait, no, can’t you see it’s me you idiot!”
One shot and his brains added to the mess already spread across the wall.
Stepping over the twitching body, Hartman took a long look in the lab. Finding it unoccupied, and no vials containing the modified virus, he stormed out yelling. “Hastings, you’re a bastard! I’ll fucking kill you!”
He gave the freshest body a frustrated kick on the way out.
Lily was having trouble remembering why she was in the middle of bloody chaos. She had an uncontrollable need to reach for something stored on her utility belt.
But she was no longer wearing one.
What the hell is going on? What am I doing here? Thoughts swirled in her head, and then she remembered Dr. Hastings telling her to hit herself. The realization of what happened since then hit her even harder.
Lily looked, really looked at what was going on around her. Groggy and still a little confused about the order of events, she was horrified.
She saw the others pursuing their quarry with deadly resolve. They were only killing people, not infected. She needed to stop them. Sighting carefully, she squeezed the trigger six times.
Confused at the lack of guidance the mutated canines came to her. She stared at the motley crew and considered her options. They gazed at her expectantly.
“First we find my friends!” She was sure Ty and Dan would love pets.
She keyed the mike at her shoulder and was about to call for them, when she remembered the collar at her neck, and what it could do to her. If someone with a transmitter heard her call, she was dead.
She’d have to find them on foot.
The street had quieted down since the initial onslaught. Survivors, if any, were in hiding. Dan and Ty slowly made their way through the semi-dark streets to avoid running over bodies and debris. Approaching the parking lot, they saw that City Hall had gone dark, although the area’s streetlights were still on.
“I don’t think we’re gonna have any problems.” Ty pointed at the darkened windows and empty streets. “It looks like everybody is either dead or gone.”
“The infected are still around, somewhere. Just because we don’t see them doesn’t mean they can’t see us.”