BLOODBORNE: THE CHANGED BOOK 1

by S. M. LITTLE

  Dr. Long was preparing to assist Maggie but he saw the same thing happening that Lucy did and stopped short.

  “What the hell?” Greg whispered.

  As he was trying to make sense of what he was watching, the second nurse, Becky, hit the floor with an ear-piercing scream. Becky flopped around on the floor, shouting obscenities to anyone that could hear. She was shouting in great detail about what was happening to her body. She screamed about the burning, intense fire that was sweeping through her body. Lucy had no idea what was happening to her nurses or why it was happening so suddenly.

  At that moment, Maggie stood up and latched onto Andy’s arm with her teeth, missing Lucy by no more than an inch. Andy howled in pain and the catheter inside him tore through his blood vessels. He was dead in minutes.

  Maggie released Andy and managed to stand completely upright. She sniffed the air like a dog and stumbled towards Greg. Greg leapt out of the way as Maggie lunged at him. Maggie tripped and hit the floor, rolling into Becky. That was when both Greg and Lucy noticed that Becky had changed as well.

  Both nurses rose to their feet and started to charge towards Lucy. Charge might be generous as they more stumbled toward Lucy, bumping into the table that still held Andy. Their collision with the table gave Lucy enough time to grab a nearby IV stand. Lucy used it like a baseball bat and swung like she was Babe Ruth. It connected with Maggie’s body, knocking her into Greg. Becky was still on the attack and moving faster towards Lucy. Just as Becky came within reach, Lucy swung again and the IV stand connected with the back of Lucy’s head. It pierced through the skin and into her brain stem. Becky dropped faster than a skydiver without a parachute and did not move.

  While Lucy was busy with Becky, Greg was locked in a fight to the death with Maggie and he was afraid it would be his. When Maggie was knocked into Greg, they both fell to the floor with Maggie on top. Greg was able to get his hands around Maggie’s neck and keep her snapping jaws away from him.

  “What the hell, Maggie? It’s me, Dr. Long,” Greg gasped at her, but she didn’t hear a word, just continued to react to the sounds that emanated from her prey. The sound of his voice made Maggie work even harder to try and bite him. She was only inches away from his throat when the IV stand struck her in the back of the head. She immediately went limp, all of her dead weight lying on Greg. Lucy rolled Maggie off Greg and helped him up.

  “I don’t know what the hell that was about, but I don’t think we can stay here,” Lucy said.

  “I don’t know either. We can’t just leave. If there is something going on, these people need our help,” Greg said.

  “Greg, you’re a great guy and I would love to spend more time with you, but I will not stick around to become someone’s lunch,” Lucy said.

  “Ok, I can agree with that. What did you have in mind?”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE WHITE HOUSE

  President Ford sat in the situation room attempting to get the full details of the situation from his staff. Unfortunately, details were not in great abundance. What they knew about the attacks was very little.

  “So, you’re telling me that people just start biting other people?” he asked. He wasn’t the brightest bulb on the tree and routinely had to have facts repeated to him more than once.

  “Yes and no, sir. Some of the people are just biting, but others have turned cannibalistic,” one aide told him.

  “They are eating other people?” Ford asked.

  “Yes sir, that’s what the word means,” another aide said before he realized what he was saying and to whom.

  “Watch your tongue with me, boy. I’m the President of the United States and will be treated as such,” Ford yelled.

  “Yes, sir. My apologies, sir,” the aide replied.

  “Dennis, is this happening around the globe?” Ford asked his Secretary of State.

  “Yes, but we don’t know to what extent. Other countries, particularly in Europe, are seeing the same events happening,” Dennis Ripley told him.

  “Homeland, what is your assessment?” Ford asked the Director of Homeland Security.

  “Our assessment can’t be made yet, as we do not have enough verifiable information,” Homeland Director Richard Parks said.

  “Verifiable information?” Ford grilled him.

  “Yes sir. As of now, all information we have is secondhand knowledge. Nothing concrete,” Parks told him.

  “You mean to tell me you can’t verify if people are eating each other?” Ford blared at him.

  “We can do that, sir. What we can’t do is speculate on why it’s happening. We won’t make guesses without better sources of information,” Parks replied.

  Another aide walked over to the President and whispered in his ear.

  “Gentleman, I have a video conference to attend with the G7 leaders. You all WILL attend this with me,” Ford proclaimed. He was not in a good mood and was willing to spread the wealth, as it were.

  On the far wall from the President a screen came to life with the images of several world leaders appearing.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, friends. We find ourselves in a bad situation. For unknown reasons, it seems that people are biting and eating each other,” Ford started the meeting. He didn’t see the eye rolls from the other leaders, he was too busy looking at his notes.

  “I would like to start this meeting by ascertaining how much of the population has decided to turn cannibal,” Ford continued. “Prime Minister Johnson, you may start.” The other world leaders couldn’t stand Ford, especially since he normally came off as a pretentious prick.

  “Last known amount of people in Great Britain that have turned are roughly five percent of the population. We have no known reasons for this, but are working hard to figure out why,” Johnson said.

  The meeting continued, with most of the globe reporting five to ten percent of the population having ‘turned’. None of the other leaders had any clue as to what was happening and reluctantly turned their eyes towards America.

  “Let’s have another meeting in a few days to see what any of us have come up with,” Ford concluded the meeting. He didn’t even say ‘bye’, he just disconnected the call.

  Ford looked around the room, glaring at his staff. “If any of you have a bright idea, now’s the time.”

  “Sir, If I may suggest,” CDC Director James said. “Why don’t we form a task force, led by the CDC. We can attempt to determine what is going on.”

  “What do you need?” Ford asked.

  “Bodies. There are reports of the cannibals dying. If my team can get some of the deceased, we can start to get some answers,” James said.

  “Might I recommend,” Chairman of the Joint Chiefs Larson interrupted. “We put all military forces on full alert status and issue a media blackout of the incidents? We don’t need a panic on our hands.”

  “Excellent ideas, gentleman. This is the action I’ve been asking for. Consider your requests granted,” Ford replied.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SEATTLE, WASHINGTON

  Tina sat in her chair, in bewilderment. Bob had just given her the news about Ted. She couldn’t believe it. Refused to believe it. Nothing like that could ever happen. Turning green? Really? How did he all of a sudden turn into this enormous green rage-filled machine?

  That’s when the call came in. She answered it, still looking at her husband as though he was some alien. The call was from the Allen Institute, her employer. They told her the same thing that Bob had. People were turning colors, biting, and eating people. They also told her the President had initiated a nationwide research plan, in cooperation with the CDC. She was to report to work immediately and pack for an extended stay. Confusion gripped her mind to the point she found it hard to move.

  “Babe, who was that?” Bob asked her, shocking her out of her daze.

  “It was work,” she finally said. “They are calling me in for an extended stay. Research into this new…thing. I have to go immediately. The Presiden
t has enacted a plan to figure out what is causing this. If he has any plan. That guy couldn’t find a coherent sentence with two flashlights.”

  “Not without me, you don’t,” Bob said. “You are not leaving my side.”

  “They won’t let you in, Bob. No outsiders, remember?” Tina told him.

  “Don’t care. If they want you there, they get me as well,” he shot back. “Tell them it’s an extra pair of hands.”

  Both proceeded to the bedroom to pack for an ‘extended stay’. Food wasn’t a concern, as the institute could feed an army for a month. Bedding would be provided, along with everyday items such as toiletries. All they had to pack was clothing and any ‘extras’ they wanted to bring to make their stay more enjoyable.

  Soon, both were in the truck on their way to downtown Seattle. It was an adventurous trip as people were starting to figure out that cannibalism was alive and well. Social unrest and societal breakdown were in their early stages. The closer they got to the institute, the more trouble they saw.

  People were already starting to loot businesses. Stealing large screen TV’s, computers, laptops, and all sorts of items that would prove to be fruitless. It looked like Black Friday gone mad.

  Tina and Bob witnessed more than one person being attacked for whatever they had on their person. One person lay on the sidewalk in a bloody pool. Their attacker ran away with a pair of shoes.

  The Allen Institute was nestled on the south shore of Lake Union. Lake Union was a waterway that connected Lake Washington to the Pacific Ocean via the Puget Sound. On the south shore was Lake Union Park and next to that a marina. The park was only a short hop across the road and one block down from the Allen Institute.

  The Institute itself covered one square block of Mercer Avenue which ran along the south side of the building. The massive building, dedicated to life science research, covered 270,000 square feet and was six stories tall.

  Bob and Tine managed to reach the institute without much fanfare. A couple of times people walked by and slammed their fists on the sides of the truck, but nothing else happened. They parked the truck in the underground parking garage, grabbed their suitcases and made for the elevator. They were in a hurry because they could see people coming through the barricade, on foot, and entering the garage. The intruders were shouting obscenities at them, telling Tina what they would do if they caught her.

  Bob grabbed Tina by the arm and pulled her along, trying to get her to speed up. They had to get to the elevator before the thugs got too close. It was only about a hundred yards away, but the thugs were only fifty yards out and gaining on them.

  “Hey sugar, where you goin’ so fast?” one thug said.

  “Yeah, we just wanna talk,” said another.

  “Screw that, I wanna jump that fine ass,” said the third.

  Bob and Tina reached the elevator and she swiped her keycard to call the secure elevator. By the time the elevator dinged, the three thugs were on top of them. Bob quickly stood in front of Tina, guarding her from the three thugs. From his back, he pulled out his Glock 17.

  “I don’t think you guys wanna push this,” Bob said, aiming the pistol. “A nine-mil can still leave a good-sized hole in your head.”

  Tina stood in shock. She and Bob weren’t necessarily gun fanatics, but they did own a pistol each, along with various hunting weapons. She hadn’t seen Bob grab his gun when they left the house.

  “Old man, you even know how to shoot that thing?” thug one asked.

  “I’m good enough to put a round through your skull,” Bob retorted.

  The elevator doors opened and inside stood three U.S. Marines in full battle rattle and armed with M4 rifles. They swung their rifles into ready position, aiming at the thugs.

  “Step away from the elevator and exit the facility,” one Marine said.

  The thugs stopped their advance and stared at three muzzles pointed at them, one for each.

  “I SAID STEP AWAY!” the Marine shouted. All three thugs slowly reversed their course, still facing the elevator.

  “We don’t want no trouble, just wanted to say hi to these fine people,” thug two said.

  “They don’t want to talk, now move it,” the Marine said. The words said with a finality that made the thugs turn tail and run.

  Once the garage was clear, Bob and Tina entered the elevator with the Marines.

  “What the hell are Marines doing at the Institute?” Tina asked.

  “Ma’am, the situation is getting worse by the minute. We are here to protect this building and its occupants, by order of the President. Your work here could help save our collective asses,” the Marine said.

  “Thank you for the save back there,” Bob said. He was still a little juiced up from the confrontation.

  “No problem, sir. That’s what we are here for,” a Marine said.

  The elevator stopped in the lobby and the doors opened to show Bob and Tina exactly what kind of chaos was starting to happen. Outside, protesters and rioters were lined up and down the street, burning everything they could. They had taken control of the road and stopped traffic. Jumping on top of the cars, with occupants still inside, they launched Molotov cocktails at the buildings around them. There was an effigy of the President on fire in the middle of the road.

  “Ma’am, sir, we really need to get moving,” the Marine told them. “We’re getting ready to lock down the building.”

  The group ran for the nearest elevator to carry them up the several floors to the lab. As soon as they got to the elevator, an alarm sounded, blaring through the building and exciting the rioters outside. Heavy metal doors started to slide down in front of the windows and doors on the exterior of the building, shielding the inhabitants from the mayhem outside. Within thirty seconds, everyone in the building was relatively safe from those outside.

  “How many Marines are here?” Tina asked on the ride up to the lab.

  “Two squads, ma’am,” the Marine responded. He was the only Marine that rode up with them.

  “How many is that?” Tina asked.

  “We have twenty Marines on site,” he replied.

  “Is that enough?” Tina asked.

  “It should be more than enough to keep everyone in here safe. We have one squad set up on the roof. The other squad is located at strategic points throughout the building,” the Marine replied.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name?” Bob said.

  “Lance Corporal Dawson, at your service,” he grinned back.

  “Do you have a first name?” Tina asked.

  “Just call me Harry. No, I’m not a hairy beast, it’s short for Harold, and yes, same name as that movie with Tom Cruise way back when,” Dawson told them. “I am here to assist with anything you need, so don’t be afraid to ask.”

  The elevator arrived at the lab floor and Tina, accompanied by Bob, entered the lab area. It was enormous. There was a main area located in the middle of the floor that occupied much of the space. It was a collection of tables and shelves, all holding different scientific equipment.

  The entire perimeter of the main area was lined with experiment rooms. Almost every room was now in use, with people flitting in and out between the rooms and the main lab.

  “Tina, you made it,” a man said.

  “Yes, I did. Dr. Mason, this is my husband Bob,” Tina said.

  “Tina, you know the rules. No visitors,” Dr. Mason said.

  “I don’t care. If you want me here, he comes with,” Tina blurted out.

  “Please, don’t worry, Dr. Mason,” Bob interrupted. “I won’t be in the way. I just feel better if I’m with her, with everything going on.”

  “Besides, he’s seen one of these things, up close and personal,” Tina added.

  Dr. Mason looked at the two for a moment and then relented. “It’s just Mason,” he said, extending his hand to Bob. Bob accepted and shook his hand back.

  “Mason, what the hell is going on?” Tina asked him.

  “Let me get you c
aught up,” Mason said as they all took seats in the middle of the main room.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  COLUMBIA MEDICAL LAB

  MANHATTEN, NEW YORK CITY

  The entire facility was in complete chaos. In the lab, papers lined the floor, people were running everywhere, and the noise from the chaos could rival any monster truck pull. Every machine in the lab was running at full tilt, as the scientists tried to find an explanation for what was happening. Every machine was spitting out printouts of test results. If the report produced didn’t give any clues, it was ripped up and tossed on the floor, explaining the paper disaster.

  The scientists had heard about the ‘changed’ people and had traced a possible source back to the synth blood. They had no proof it was their work that had created this, and most of them refused to take responsibility for it. A couple of them instinctively knew it was the synth blood that had changed people but they couldn’t figure out how. They were desperate to figure it out.

  Max, Bill, and Cynthia were working by themselves, away from the chaos. They were making another attempt at decoding what they had seemingly triggered with the synth blood. They had no samples from any of the Changed to work with. They could only go back over their own work and try to decipher what had gone wrong.

  Bill was sitting at his desk, waiting for the latest results to come back from another round of tests. The printer started humming and soon Bill had a page in his hands that turned him ghost white. He quickly went to the nearest paper shredder and inserted the papers. Within seconds, the results he had just gotten were torn into small ribbons.

  He stood for a second, lost in thought, then quickly scanned the area. Max and Cynthia were working at Max’s station, oblivious to everything around them. Bill made up his mind in a microsecond.