Kings of Carrion

by Keri Lake

  “I’m pregnant, Gregor. By an Alpha. My odds of surviving are--”

  “Zero,” he interrupts. “There have been no survivors, as I understand.”

  “Then, you can appreciate my urgency.”

  “For what? What, in God’s name, is worth venturing into the bowels of hell?”

  “The cure. It’s believed to be somewhere in the underground lab.”

  “Believed to be. Did you hear yourself just now? You don’t even know if it actually exists, and yet, you’re willing to risk all of your lives for a theory?”

  I can’t even answer his question, because logic would have me agreeing with him. It’s only my promise to Six that has me shaking my head. “It’s not right that it remains locked away while so many suffer.”

  “You don’t even know if it’s still intact.”

  “It’s still intact.” The foreign voice comes from behind, and I turn to see another man who looks of equal age to Gregor, given the grays and wrinkles.

  “Allow me to introduce a good friend of mine. Jed Kaiser. Lead researcher. Eavesdropper. Art connoisseur. Asshole.”

  “You forgot lover.”

  Gregor’s eye flinches at the word, one I suspect he’s had to keep under wraps, for fear of castigation. In a world where women are scarce, homosexuality is surprisingly unheard of--on this side of the wall, anyway, but that’s mostly due to the punishments two men would suffer if they were ever found out. I’ve heard of stonings in Szolen, though thankfully I’ve never witnessed them myself.

  “You’re a doctor for Calico?” After Papa, I try not to regard all the doctors with the same contempt, particularly ones so bold as to break the rules.

  “Was. I led the research in the early days, when the underground lab was thriving. Calico is no place for a curious mind.”

  “They kicked you out?”

  “I quit! Wasn’t interested in their methods, so I retreated from the science and picked up pottery instead.” He tips his head with an arrogant sort of smile. “I am quite the potter.”

  “Jed, my friends here are trying to break into Calico and retrieve those samples. Perhaps you can tell them how crazy an idea that is,” Gregor says, keeping his gaze on me.

  “Very. In fact, I’d have to wonder about the state of mind of anyone willing to face the perils of going inside.” He steps around Gregor, who wears a smug grin, and places his hand on the man’s shoulder. “And yet, I’m intrigued. Whatever would possess you to do it?”

  Rolling his shoulders, Gregor groans and brushes Jed’s hand away. “Perhaps you missed the part in your eavesdropping where she said she was pregnant by an Alpha?”

  “Ah. That is a tragedy. And I suppose just cause to do something stupid. What else have you got to lose?”

  “Is there any way of saving her life without doing something stupid?” At the sound of Six’s voice, I don’t bother to turn around. I already know the mockery is boiling his blood, by the tone of his voice.

  “You must be the father.” Voice laced with amusement, Jed smiles back at him.

  “I am.”

  “If you’re inquiring whether aborting the baby will save her, or not, you can rest easy knowing it will not. Right now her body is scrambling to fight off the Alpha gene you’ve introduced into her virgin blood. By that, I obviously mean non-immune. Her body isn’t equipped for the proteins given off by that gene. Even if you eliminate the fetus, the particles remain in her bloodstream.”

  My head is swimming in questions, the more he tries to explain. “But this doesn’t make sense. Six carries the Alpha gene. One I’m guessing came from his father? Why didn’t it kill his mother at birth, then?”

  “It was latent. Dormant. Asleep. Basically a phenotypically silent sequence of DNA, which doesn’t mount the same immune response. Back then, we weren’t carriers of the disease, so there was nothing to fight off. Only when it’s been activated in the father does it pose an issue for the mother.”

  I’m not seeing the potential in this venture. “So these samples …. How do they help?”

  “The early samples contain the purest form of the pathogen, which produced a particular protein that puts the Alpha gene back to sleep, if you will. In Alphas with reactivated genes, like your babymaker over there, there’s a certain resistance to the Dredge. A Rager could practically devour him, and he’d never once fall ill with the disease. Though, I guess he’d have other issues, in that case.” While I find Jed’s explanation informative, I’m not amused by his morbid sense of humor. “However, if he was bitten by one of the very early Ragers who harbor the R-One protein, as we called it back then, and he didn’t happen to carry antibodies to the now circulating Dredge pathogen, he’d turn full on eat-your-face Rager, regardless of the Alpha gene.”

  “How is this the cure?”

  “It isn’t. Whoever told you it was?”

  “Doctor Ericsson,” Cali answers for me. “He sent Alphas down into the tunnels.” She slides her gaze to Cadmus and back. “He referred to it as the cure.”

  Jed snorts, shaking his head. “Ericsson had a warped sense of cure.”

  “We were told that they had an attenuated virus that might be used to produce a vaccine.” I catch a glimpse of Kenny, standing off to the side, where he keeps his head down, as if he doesn’t care to be mentioned.

  “We did manage to isolate the R-One protein. Unfortunately human trials failed.” His brow wings up, as he emphasizes the word. “And that, my friends, is how you end up with batshit mutations who turn on their masters. Mad science one-oh-one.”

  “So, there’s no cure, at all. Just a dangerous and worthless contagion that benefits no one.”

  “The ones who would benefit most from those early samples, of course, are the females impregnated by Alphas, but even I’m not certain how they’d fare. It would pose a detriment to anyone else. Carrier or not. At least the Alpha proteins offer some protection, which can easily be compromised. Reason number two your idea to venture down there is stupid. Should you encounter one of the early Ragers who harbor the protein, and should it bite you, your Alpha genes could very well go latent.”

  “What happens then?” The intrigue in Six’s voice is an annoyance, as I’m certain he’d love nothing more than to have those genes fall back into slumber.

  “It depends. If an Alpha is a carrier of Dredge, meaning you’ve already been exposed, perhaps not much. Or perhaps you’d eventually descend into madness over time. Unfortunately, our lab was shut down before we could explore those possibilities.” His brows pinch as he stares off, thoughtful for a moment. “But we do know a function of the Alpha gene is to protect against the plaques on the brain formed by the Dredge. Without that protection, you’d turn full on Rager eventually. I’m guessing you are a carrier, though, since that’s what activates the Alpha gene to begin with.” A serious expression clouds his eyes as he scratches his chin. “Though, I am aware the doctors at Calico tried other … rather unethical methods of bringing it out of latency.”

  Provacation tests. I remember seeing the poor boys who were subjected to torturous experiments, in their sick and twisted efforts to stress the body into reactivating the Alpha gene. My own baby brother was subjected to nightmares before they ultimately murdered him.

  “And is that the case for the impregnated females? They need to be a carrier, as well?” I ask, recalling the day Papa told me, when I first arrived at Calico, that he’d already checked my blood to confirm I was.

  “Yes. Many second generation who’ve lived beyond the wall are carriers. It’s those of us who weren’t born into this disease, or exposed to fresh pockets out in the Deadlands, that succumb to it. In other words, if I were bitten, I’d be fucked. The ancient virus takes minutes to cause serious infection, and it’s pathology is, well … gross. Internal bleeding. Blistering deformations. Not pretty.”

  “Just doesn’t seem worth the risk. If I’m the only one who would benefit.”

  “I didn’t say that.” Waving his finger in the
air, he shakes his head. “There is benefit in having the early samples, as they also produce a pheromone much like those expressed by the Alpha gene, which would allow one to walk amongst the Ragers virtually unnoticed.” His comment takes me back to years ago, when Papa injected pheromones in me to help me escape Calico, ones the doctors there tried to mimic, he told me, but its effects were short-lived. “Those that might be easier to replicate, and allow the non-carriers to go beyond the walls without risk. As it stands now, one whiff of Dredge, and this community would crumble.”

  “We need to get down there. We need to find a way in,” Cali says from behind, exacerbating the trembles running through me now.

  “And are you pregnant, as well?” Jed crosses the room to pour himself a drink out of the same glass Gregor used before.

  “No. But if I was, I can apparently carry the baby to term, thanks to assholes like you who modified me into being so.”

  “Cali!” I snap, glowering back at her.

  “My apologies.” Gaze lowered, she seems to fidget where she stands between both her Alphas. “I meant no disrespect.”

  “Yes you did.” Jed tips back his drink and pours another, which he carries to Gregor. “And you should be pissed. It’s really no different than Szolen swapping my cock for a vagina, just to have it fit with their standards of man and woman.”

  “For God’s sake, man.” Gregor groans again and tips back his drink.

  “You had injections, then?” Jed asks. “I’m assuming they built up some Alpha proteins over time.”

  “Yes. Painful injections.”

  “Well, no one said it was easy forcing the body to mount an immunity to something that wants to attack it. It’d be like trying to find enjoyment out of rape.”

  I catch Gregor dragging his hand down his face, and he shakes his head. Somehow, the two of them are perfectly matched, though, as I know Gregor can be just as acerbic.

  “So, that’s why she can carry an Alpha child?” I have to admit, there’s a certain jealousy, in spite of what she’s suffered. To be able to carry Six’s baby to term seems like an impossible dream right now. “Why would Ericsson bother going after the samples?

  “I’m guessing there was more to it than a few injections, am I right, sweetheart?” His question is directed toward Cali, who nods in answer.

  “I had to have surgery. They modified my insides, I guess.”

  “Exactly. Why go through all that trouble, when you can inject a little Dredge and put the Alpha gene to sleep?” He crosses the room toward a chair and plops down, sliding a cigar from his shirt pocket. “Not only that, but imagine the possibilities of being able to walk amongst Ragers with those pheromones. You could build an army of men and direct hordes to wipe out your enemies.”

  “Is that speculation on your part?”

  “No. It’s the reason I left the lab. Had I wanted to make weapons, I’d have dabbled in biodefense instead.” He points his cigar toward Gregor. “There is a way in, isn’t there, old man?”

  Lips peeled back and brows drawn together, Gregor shoots him a look of pure disgust that only brings a smile to Jed’s face.

  I can’t begin to think why Jed would take an interest in something that he chose to walk away from, unless there’s a part of him that still longs for the science. A part of me hopes Gregor will be belligerent and stubborn, and keep with his explanation that there is no possible way inside, but instead, he lowers his gaze and huffs.

  “There is one way.”

  My stomach sinks with his words, and I can’t bring myself to look back at the group behind me, who will surely be elated by this news.

  From his desk, he nabs a sheet of blank paper and a pencil. “The tunnels are the passageway that was used between Calico and the underground research lab, back in the early days. It was a means of keeping the most dangerous and violent subjects from the hospital patients.” On the blank page, he draws a long tunnel between two square blocks--one set above ground level that represents the hospital, and one below. “When contamination took place in the research lab, we were forced to close it down and block it off. This left only the hospital tunnel open, which I’m assuming is now sealed off, as well. In the event of an emergency, or breach, there are two cage doors that slide down at either side of this hatch here.” Halfway into the tunnel, he draws a circular object at ground level, and two lines to show where both sides of the tunnel are closed off, creating a sort of box within the tunnel. “This cage prevents the mutations from escaping. But there is a code on the outer surface of the hatch. You punch it in, and both cage doors slide open.”

  “How is that possible?” Kenny stands with his arms crossed, shaking his head. “I programmed the system to lock down all entrances in the event of a breach.”

  “Guess you didn’t factor in the hatch that I designed.” Gregor goes back to his drawing. “Anyway, the code overrides the system, popping these cages open. The idea behind this was to flood the tunnels with Ragers and blow them up, if need be.”

  “So that’s how we get in. Punching this code to open the tunnels.”

  He nods and draws two sharp lines in either direction over the tunnel sketch. “From there, you’d have access to each facility. But as I understand, the doors to the hospital are sealed, as well.”

  “Doctor Ericsson mentioned a ventilation shaft that led down into the tunnels,” Cali says from behind. “That’s how he lowered the Alphas down there.”

  “Yes, of course.” Gregor twists the page of drawings to the side and draws a long passage perpendicular to the tunnels. “Air was pumped down into the tunnels, to provide ventilation. There is a ladder that runs the length of this. That would be one way to get in, so long as you can reach the vent. The tunnels themselves are about twelve feet in height.”

  “Where is this hatch located?” Standing over my shoulder, Six stares down at the page, eyes studying the drawn map.

  “Northeast end of the hospital. Where the Ragers are penned.”

  “Why would you put it there?” It’s Brandon who asks this question, revealing what limited knowledge he possesses on the cruelty of the men he once answered to, that the subjects they tortured would risk facing off with violent mutations and Ragers, rather than suffer their brutal demises at the hands of scientists.

  “To keep subjects from using the tunnels to escape.” I lift my gaze toward Jed who sighs and shakes his head. “If you disagreed with their methods, why didn’t you say something. Do something?”

  Jed scoffs, sending smoke out his nostrils. “And be thrown into one of their experiments? Call me arrogant, but I value my life.”

  “As do all of us. If only indifference would’ve spared us, the same way it spared you.”

  Jed’s eyes narrow on me, while he puffs his cigar, allowing a hint of a smile to crease his lips around it.

  “What do you mean us? Did you not grow up on this side of the wall?” Gregor asks, casually crossing his legs. “As I recall, your father was just as much a part of the suffering that took place there, as anyone.”

  “He wasn’t my father. My real father died trying to save his men from a horde. Doctor Falkenrath took me in. Raised me as his own. Saved my life from the Ragers that Doctor Ericsson decided to feed me to, when he learned a girl had infiltrated his hospital.”

  “Ha! That was you?” Jed sits forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I heard about you. The girl of Calico. Consumed by Ragers.”

  “And yet, here I am.”

  “Here you are. Just goes to show, you can’t believe everything you’re told.”

  Lounging back in his chair, Gregor crosses his arms and shakes his head. “I had no idea.”

  “He could’ve looked the other way. Could’ve left me at the hands of monsters and the Ragers, and he might be alive today, if he had.” Once again my eyes meet Jed’s, and I lift my chin in pride as I speak of the man I loved enough to call my Papa. “He was a better man than anyone gave him credit for. A better man than most.”

/>   “And he’s dead,” Gregor adds, stirring my rage.

  “He’ll be remembered when most men will fade from memory.”

  “I’ll escort you to the lab.” Jed’s words are unexpected, almost falsely genuine given the conversation, and I look up at him frowning.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve lived with the guilt of having looked away for far longer than you realize. And I still have some of my shit locked down in that lab. Employee of the month plaque. I’d like to retrieve it.” His humor is misplaced, in spite of the gesture, but I’m not certain I trust him. It takes an apathetic man to look away from the atrocities committed upon innocent people. If he thinks one trip to Hell will atone for all the years he never bothered to intervene, he’s wrong.

  “You’ll do no such thing.” Gregor pushes up from his chair, the irritation clear in his deep furrowed brow and the snarl he wears. “This meeting is over. I’ve given you the information you need.”

  “We need the code.” I also rise up from my chair, prepared to have Six do the worst, if he refuses.

  As if he knows what’s on my mind, his gaze flicks to the Alphas standing behind me for a moment. “It’s D-Day. What else would it be?”

  The day the outbreak was first believed to wreak havoc on our world. One celebrated in mourning out in the Deadlands. The first of October in 2017.

  “That will open the hatch and the tunnels?”

  “It will. My hope is that you will not venture down inside those tunnels, Wren. They’re no place for a woman carrying a child. You’re welcome to stay here. You’d be safe here. Hidden from Legion.”

  “How?”

  “Why would they bother with an old man? Especially one who built this damn place?”

  “Why would you do that for me?” I ask him, though perhaps he has a point, and I would be safer here than anywhere else.