Apokalypsis Book One

by Kate Morris

  “They aren’t zombies, are they? Will they attack us?”

  “Absolutely, they will not only attack you, but they will kill you. And they will do so without mercy, without regret or feeling or sympathy. They show the complete and total spectrum of paranoia and schizophrenia, minus any lucid moments. They aren’t zombies, though. They aren’t dead. There is no such thing as reanimation of life. That is all Hollywood buffoonery. However, this is a serious threat to us, to all of us. These infected will not have a single hesitation in killing you. If you should find yourself in a situation faced with one of these people, you will need to defend yourself if the police are not available. They will not stop. They will do whatever it takes to kill you. This is it, folks. It’s them or us. This is going to be a fight for our survival soon.”

  “That sounds awfully ominous,” the host said, trying to lighten the dramatic sense of foreboding in the doctor’s message.

  “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but your viewers need to hear the truth. At some point, the police will no longer be able to deal with this. They are all aware of what’s…”

  A commotion on the set, a racket in the background caused the doctor to pause.

  “Hey!” the host cried out angrily. “You can’t be in here! Keep filming,” he said quickly to his cameraman.

  Men in black tactical gear, guns, and helmets were taking the host into custody. He kept yelling loudly and telling them they had no right to arrest him and that he had rights under the First Amendment. They ignored him. Whoever the men were, they didn’t seem to care. The cameraman swung and caught sight of the doctor, who was also being hauled away. Then the camera went black, and a rainbow-colored, ‘no communication with server’ message came on the screen.

  “What the hell?” Roman asked. “Did they just haul those dudes away?”

  “I- I think so,” she said. “Were those the police?”

  He shook his head, “I don’t think so, and they didn’t have FBI labels on their clothing or anything. That was the government.”

  “Who? And why would they do that?”

  Roman turned off the television and said, “Maybe Homeland Security. He was telling everything. They want us in the dark on this because they still think they can get it under control. They think they’ll figure this out, and they don’t want the public to panic.”

  “Too late.”

  “Yeah, too late for us, but the rest of the country who doesn’t watch this network is still relatively in the dark.”

  Jane said, “Until they get attacked by one of these infected people.”

  Roman stood and shook his head. When he turned to face her, Jane could tell he was angry. “I told my parents that I didn’t think Connor should go to school because I didn’t want him to get this.”

  “What’d they say?”

  “My mom got pissed and said I was just trying to get out of going to school. I even told her that I’d go but to keep him home. Well, she didn’t want to hear anything like that.”

  “Yeah, I can imagine. I can’t see anyone pulling their kids out of school indefinitely. Or,” she said and paused, “maybe they arrested this doctor because he’s inciting a national panic over something that’s not going to happen.”

  “Really, Jane? We’ve seen it. We now know a handful of people just in our small circle of the people we know who are either infected or dead. This isn’t panic. We need to find out more. We’re definitely going to that hospital tonight,” he said with determination.

  Jane stood, too, and said firmly, “I’m in. I wasn’t sure before, but I am now. As long as we don’t both get arrested. Then I’d have to call my dad, and he’d kill me. Then he’d kill you.”

  He smiled and walked toward her. Then Roman leaned down and hugged her. Jane tried to return it, but the motion felt foreign and a little strange. She was in a boy’s bedroom from school- arguably the coolest, most popular boy in that school- and he was hugging her.

  She pulled back and said, “Partners?”

  His head jerked back as if her words surprised him. “Uh, okay. Partners.”

  Jane frowned at him and asked, “What?”

  His lips pressed tightly together, and he shook his head. “Let’s use my computer and see what we can find out about this on the internet until we go.”

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m not that computer savvy, though.”

  “Didn’t you take classes in school?”

  “Some. I just didn’t take to it. And I don’t have my own at home, so…”

  She bit her lip nervously, realizing that she sounded like the poor white trash that Stephanie always accused her of being.

  “Oh, well, don’t worry about it. I’ll show you. As a matter of fact, let me steal Connor’s, too. You can use mine, and I’ll use Connor’s.”

  They sat beside each other at his desk in the corner of his room. Roman showed her how to perform deeper searches on the internet than she knew how to do, and she read articles by underground news sources while he checked the mainstream media.

  “This is just all so full of lies,” he said with frustration. “Everything I’m reading is downplaying this and calling it the flu. It’s not just the flu.”

  “That’s not what I’m learning,” she remarked, and he rolled his chair closer. She pointed to the article, “See? These ‘sources’ say that they were sent into Africa, which is where they believe it started. Then I read this other one…”

  She fumbled around on the computer for a second until Roman stepped in and clicked on the right button. “There. Is this the one you meant?”

  “Right. This is it,” she said, embarrassed. He didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy pouring over the article.

  “These people say it started in Russia. That’s why it’s called RF1 and RF2. It’s supposed to stand for the Russian flu. Whoa. Do you think that’s true?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t you think the Russians would get kinda’ mad if they knew the medical community named a deadly disease after their country?”

  He chuckled, “Yeah, but what if it’s true? I mean, what else could RF stand for?”

  “Radioactive Fruit Flies?” she joked.

  He smiled and bumped his shoulder playfully against hers. “You’re a funny girl, Jane Livingston.”

  She grinned sheepishly and returned her attention to the screen. He reached over her and typed in a new search. It brought up many hits. Roman clicked on the third story down. Then they both read for a few minutes.

  “Holy shit,” he exclaimed and moved the arrow to hover over a paragraph. “Read here.”

  She did as he instructed and was tempted to use the same expletive to express herself.

  “No way,” she said with disbelief that took its origins from fear. “You don’t think that’s true, do you?”

  He sat staring at the screen for a few moments. Then Roman hit her with a serious stare.

  “I always knew that the CDC and other organizations kept bio warfare like Small Pox and such on hand. I just…”

  He paused, and Jane asked, “How’d you know that? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  Roman smiled and said, “I like to read.”

  She rubbed her palms together and considered if he was telling the truth. He made her nervous, but for some strange reason, Jane trusted him.

  “If this is true,” he started, “and we certainly don’t know if it is yet, then the Russians did this on purpose. They tinkered with the influenza virus until they were able to manufacture a super-bug that could kill millions.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  He sighed, “Probably to kill us. They realized we wouldn’t have a chance against this because we aren’t ready for it. They could’ve released Small Pox or the Avian flu, but no, they manufactured a whole new breed of biology to use on us.”

  “Won’t it kill them, too?”

  “According to this article, they don’t have control of it anymore. If that’s true, then
that means yes, it’ll kill them, too. If they released this or it was accidentally released, then they don’t have the antibody or cure yet.”

  “Why would they want to kill us?”

  “World domination?” he said without falter. “They’ve hated us since…forever. They’ve had three generations of nutjobs in power over there. Look what’s happened in the last forty years. Since 2027, they’ve been working in little corners of Europe fighting and starting micro-wars. With this? They could wipe out an entire country’s population, or at least most of it, and take over that country in as little as two months. Hitler did the same thing with troops on the ground and air power during World War II. This would be so much faster. They wouldn’t even have to send in soldiers.”

  “Except something went wrong,” she remarked as she looked at the big, foreboding picture of the biohazardous sign on the screen halfway through the article.

  “I think so,” he said. “That’s the only thing I can figure. And the damn government and medical community know about this, and they’re hiding it from everyone.”

  “That explains why the cops didn’t act freaked out the other night at the quarry.”

  He offered a subtle nod. “Biological warfare or what’s known as germ warfare was used before in history, but this is taking it to a whole new level. This is nothing like we’ve ever seen.”

  “What do you think will happen? Do you think it’s going to get as bad as that doctor said?”

  His eyes were troubled. “I hope not, but we live in a relatively small community, and we’ve already seen cases. Imagine what heavily populated cities are looking like right now. People don’t even know what’s coming.”

  She nodded feeling anxious, wanting to flee, get out of town, go somewhere. But where would be better? If this thing was going to play out like these people were predicting, where would be safe? Anywhere? Nowhere?

  Chapter Fourteen

  A little after midnight and after she told her grandmother on the phone that she was spending the night with Dez, which they cleared beforehand to have Dez cover for her in case it came up, he and Jane left for the hospital. It was less than a half hour drive from his house. He felt bad about having Jane lie to her grandmother, but telling her that she was going with him on a mission to find out the truth behind the flu and the media’s coverup by doing some snooping around at a hospital in the middle of the night wasn’t going to fly, either.

  First, he stopped and bought them both a coffee through the McDonald’s drive-thru. Then she told him that she never drank coffee. So, against her protests, he went through again and got her a Coke.

  “I’ve never drunk so much soda,” she told him shyly.

  “You might need the caffeine,” he told her.

  She chuckled, “Or I might actually need to sleep this century.”

  “Chin up, Livingston,” he said in a light voice. “We’ll sleep when we’re dead.”

  “Which could be in the next month if you believe that kook network doctor.”

  He scowled hard, suddenly thinking of her getting sick. It bothered him as much as thinking about Connor falling ill with this. “Yeah,” Roman whispered uneasily.

  Circling the eight city blocks that the hospital took up, Roman sipped his coffee as he noted what was going on in the area.

  “What’s that?” Jane asked, pointing in the distance.

  He knew what she was looking at. “That’s never been there before,” he said, observing the long white tents that would generally be used for something like an outdoor wedding venue. He’d been to a few of those over the years with his parents for their friends whose kids got married and wanted it outdoors. It always struck him as odd, though. Why get married outside and have the reception outdoors if you were just going to go right back inside a tent? It wasn’t really outdoors at all.

  A military Hummer sped past them, and he pulled to the curb to let it go by. It was driving in the general direction of the tents. There was more than just the one tent, too. They were taking up entire city blocks, erected right in the street. They were also cordoned off with road barricades. He wanted to get a closer look, but they’d also put up giant spotlights, some which faced suspiciously out and away from the tents to light up the surrounding area.

  “Those have to have something to do with this,” he commented and backed up into a parking lot to turn around. “Let’s find someplace to park and get started.”

  He drove them around the block and found a spot where his mother used to park along the street in an older neighborhood. It was safe, a place her car wouldn’t get robbed or looted or stolen while she was at work even though it was not particularly well-lit.

  “Ready?” he asked, noting she looked nervous. She nodded anyway. Roman grabbed his backpack from the floor of the back seat behind Jane.

  “Won’t we need a passcode card or something to get in after hours?”

  “No, we’re gonna sneak in without anyone seeing us,” he said with confidence.

  They got out, and he set the locks. Then they walked the three blocks to the hospital’s service entrance.

  “This is the laundry,” he explained and took her hand. “The midnight shift is usually busy, especially running bedding to the E.R. or to the floors that are discharging patients. Plus, those in housekeeping who aren’t running, are operating the machines.”

  She took a deep breath but followed without arguing. Roman led her through the narrow gap between the black wrought iron fencing that was nine feet tall and the brick wall of the hospital. He knew the space was there because he used to hang out with a couple of the guys who worked in the laundry, and they came out here to hide from work and smoke cigarettes.

  Then he sneaked behind the dumpster, staying close to the building. They came to a set of wide double doors. He looked both ways, even looked up to make sure cameras hadn’t been installed since he used to come out here. Then he quietly pushed the first door closest to him. It swung in unhindered.

  He took a quick glance in but didn’t see anyone around as he’d expected. They moved swiftly and passed behind a long row of massive dryers running, humming and whirring. The room was hot from so many industrial machines going full bore. He could hear women talking, and the conversation was getting closer and clearer.

  “This way!” he whispered and skirted the space. He took them through another area where some women were folding sheets. They didn’t notice him. They never did before, either. They were busy doing their jobs and probably wouldn’t have cared anyway.

  Leading her through the rest of the laundry, Roman came to an exit door, also double but swing-style this time. He pushed out, and they were in. They were in the main employees-only area of the hospital, the ground floor where surgeries were performed, staff was housed, and the central kitchens were located. His mother’s old office, along with most of the hospital administration, was located on the fourth floor in a remodeled wing. He led her down a hallway to a set of employee elevators. It didn’t matter. He pressed the button anyway. He took it to the second floor, the street level floor where the Emergency Room was located. The second he got off the elevator, Roman knew something wasn’t right.

  “Jane,” he said, “take one. Hurry. Put it on.”

  There were masks and latex gloves in sterile packaging and a cardboard sign that read ‘you are entering a potential high infection zone, protect yourself from the flu.’

  “Flu my ass,” Roman swore angrily as he realized the lies that were being perpetrated against the American people. This wasn’t just the flu. He pulled on a mask and gloves anyway and walked down the long hall that led to the E.R.

  They went toward the waiting room that was a large, glass-enclosed area with many tables, chairs, televisions, and even a playroom for children. Out of the likely two hundred chairs in the room, not one was available. People were sitting on the floor, children were sitting on their parents’ laps, and others were standing against the walls.

  “Let’s not go in t
here,” he said and took her gloved hand in his.

  “My thoughts exactly,” she agreed.

  “That was never like that before,” he said, pointing to the triage desk area that was behind a glass partition. The armed military guard also never worked there before, either.

  “We should get out of here, Roman,” she said as a man starting yelling at the guard.

  It escalated quickly, and two more men dressed in military clothing came forward. A few men from the waiting room got involved. It was about to blow like a kettle. As he led Jane away, he could hear more shouting. He couldn’t help but speed up as they went down the hall toward the elevators again.

  “What the heck?” she said as they got back in the elevator.

  “That guy was pissed because he said they’d been there since three o’clock this afternoon waiting to get their daughter seen.”

  “Yeah, I heard. It looked like some of those people were waiting for their family members to come out, though.”

  He nodded, “Yeah, but who knows? They may not ever come out again.”

  Her words made him pause before hitting the button for their next destination.

  “What?” she asked, reading his indecision.

  “I gotta know,” he said. “We can’t leave yet.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  Roman sighed. “I shouldn’t have brought you.”

  “I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

  He pressed the ‘open’ button, and they got back out. Then he turned right and headed for the stairwell. Once they went inside and let the door shut behind them, Roman turned to her and said, “I know a back way into the E.R.”

  “Let’s go,” she immediately responded.

  “You sure?”

  “You’re sure, so I’m sure,” she said firmly. There was a bold determination in her eyes that he admired. He also felt a little swell in his pride at her confidence in him. Roman just hoped he lived up to it.

  He led her up to the next floor, sneaked down a short hall, and went right back into another stairwell.