Cindy’s jaw dropped in shock at this news. The easy smile was no longer evident. “Wait a second. You’ve... had to shoot people?”
Lieutenant Sanderson continued.
“That’s why it is so important for people to stay inside their homes.” She smiled reassuringly at Cindy. “But it’s not so bad. We have only had to deal with a few isolated incidents, and our troops are more than capable of protecting their charges.”
Cindy was somewhat reassured by this and continued the interview.
“Ok. So, once you have collected the people that called in, you bring them here?”
“Correct. We have enough facilities here to house nearly fifty thousand people!”
The camera panned around as Lieutenant Sanderson stated this. The safe zone had been set up in a downtown park that was several city blocks in size. Temporary facilities and tents were set up as far as the eye could see. The entire zone was cordoned off by two sets of reinforced fencing with concertina wiring on top. The fences were separated by an open area roughly fifteen feet in width. Soldiers could be seen patrolling this area. The front gate area was framed by two guard towers, and an additional tower was set further back inside the zone. A handful of army vehicles were parked near the gate.
It looked a lot more like a jail than a safe zone.
“People are first led into the processing buildings, where they are tested to ensure they are infection free.”
Cindy interrupted at this. “How do you test people for HAPS?”
“We have protocols to follow in testing subjects for infection. We have also been issued scanners for this purpose.”
“So, these scanners catch anybody that is infected?”
Lieutenant Sanderson regarded Cindy for a moment before smiling at the reporter. “We have a high degree of confidence in our equipment and people. Miss Cho, I assure you that those that make it into our safe zone are uninfected individuals only.”
Cindy was about to ask another question but stopped. She put her finger to her ear as she received instructions.
“Folks, we will continue with this interview shortly. We will now send you back to our studio for some breaking news.”
With that, the feed was transferred back to the studio. Tammy addressed the viewers immediately.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have new information to share with you about HAPS. This information was leaked just a few minutes ago, and we can not identify the source of it as of yet. However, all of us at Channel Eight are convinced of its authenticity and want to share it with the public. We apologize in advance and warn you that the images you are about to see are graphic and offensive.”
The picture went dark and was replaced by the scene of a brightly lit room. A closed-circuit camera shows a group of people and a series of autopsy tables. Several high-ranking military and other official looking individuals surround two coroners, who in turn surround a cadaver on one of the autopsy tables. One of the coroners spoke up.
“The subject is a 45-year-old male, of no known address. He was one of the first subjects positively identified with HAPS in America.”
The camera zoomed in on his body cavity, which had been opened from his lower belly through his upper chest. The ribs were peeled back as if some gory, morbid gate had been opened.
“The first stage of HAPS affected the stomach lining and portions of the intestines. Upon closer examination, it appears that microscopic holes were drilled in both stomach and intestines. However, these holes were not drilled into these organs. These holes were drilled from the inside out.”
A couple of folks shuffled on their feet, clearly uncomfortable with the description. A science advisor in the background stepped forward at this point.
“The microscopic agents responsible for this damage appear to be some foreign objects. We can confirm at this time that these objects are likely man-made as they are not organic. We are currently analysing them. Part of the problem is that we have not been able to analyse any live specimens. By the time we get a look at them, all that remains is a chemical signature.”
The senior person in the group – a portly old man with a bad combover digested this information for a second before motioning the coroner to continue.
“During stage two, the foreign objects re-orient themselves and travel up the body cavity towards the upper spinal cord. As they travel, they ‘drill’ through any obstacle, causing hemorrhagic damage to multiple organs and often resulting in the death of the subject.”
With this statement, the coroner points out damage to the liver, heart and lungs of the cadaver.
“We have determined that these artificial foreign objects only stay active for a limited time after the host is deceased. This is why the phenomena is not happening with all victims–”
“With phenomena you mean rise from the dead.” Somebody remarked
The science advisor was unperturbed and continued.
“The hypothesis that we have proven with this specimen, is that the organisms continue to travel up the spinal cord into the brain.”
“What happens after that is something, we find hard to explain. It is also something that many will find hard to believe. But the evidence is conclusive. The foreign objects situate themselves in specific portions of the brain, while the host is still alive. These objects then hi-jack the brain’s neurons and synapses, causing the host to die but keeping the body animate.”
Most of the officials burst out with sounds of disbelief, and several raised their voices in question. The senior official, holds up his hand for silence, and after a few seconds order was restored. He looked at the second coroner.
“What else do we know.” It was an order, not a question.
The second man in coroner’s garb cleared his throat and spoke. His voice was soft and very hard to hear in the recording, but several things could be heard clearly.
“... the host is truly deceased but re-animated. This is no joke; The dead are rising. ... After they rise ... to primary senses of sight, sound ... attracted to the living ...” The only other word that could clearly be heard was ‘attack’.
Thankfully, the man moved a bit closer to the microphone and his next sentences were heard clearly.
“They are impervious to any damage done to them and will fight very aggressively. They do not appear to use tools or weapons, but will use their own bodies as their weapon, in a most animalistic way. Once a victim is unresponsive, the subject loses interest.”
The man turned away from the microphone again and most of the next words were lost.
“Also, we ...-ded that ... victim perishes, they do not reanimate. One of the small blessings ... is not contagious.”
The senior official stopped the man and asked a question, putting emphasis on certain words. “Very well, but how do we stop them. How do we destroy them?”
The camera had moved in closer, so that the expert could be heard more clearly.
“Sir, the only way to stop these things once they have reanimated is to inflict sufficient trauma to the brain. This disrupts the synapses and shuts down the virus. As George mentioned, we still need to capture a specimen with a live viral infection, so we can learn more – but we are already certain that the way to stop them is by destroying the brain.”
“Wait – you are calling it a virus?”
“Yes sir. The behaviour of taking over an organ is somewhat akin to a viral infection. We can not confirm this until we capture and study a reanimated subject.”
The senior official looked to one of his aides and nodded. The aide spun on his heel and left the room. The official turned back to the coroner and science advisors.
“Anything else?”
Another science advisor spoke up.
“We do not have a cure for HAPS at this time. The syndrome,” She said this as she looked at the other advisor. Clearly, she disagreed with his use of the term ‘virus’. “does not respond to any treatment – be it anti-biotical or chemical.”
“Right
. Keep working on it. Anything else?”
“Yes. There is a direct connection between the crop failures and deaths of domesticated animals and HAPS. This virus, or whatever it is–” The rest is drowned out as several people spoke up at once.
“The animals are NOT reanimating!” Somebody’s raised voice could be heard over the din.
The senior official stood in silence, with a stern look on his face, until gradually all talk ceased.
“Anything else.” He forced the words through a clenched jaw. He was clearly upset and angry.
“Uh, not at this time, sir.”
The senior official turned to the camera. “Ok, wrap it up and get this info to the pentagon.”
At this point the recording ended, and the viewers are brought back to the Channel Eight newsroom. Tammy was sitting at her desk, ready to address her viewers.
“This recording was date stamped October 24th. Yesterday. We can not confirm the validity of the recording, but it appears to be real. This information also is corroborated with many sightings, videos, and reports on the internet, and we at the station believe this to be true.”
Tammy took a deep breath and her eyes flared wide as she looked down at her desk.
“I can’t believe this is happening! The dead are rising?” She snapped out of it when she looked up and saw the camera in front of her. Tammy collected herself.
“My apologies.” Tammy picked up the next piece of paper in front of her and regarded it for a second before facing the camera once more.
“We are also hearing unconfirmed reports of army units opening fire on people that are attempting to flee cities, including our own city. The official statement from the army is that any aggressive maneuvers or encroachment upon check points or infrastructure are considered unlawful.”
She let that sink in before continuing. “Ladies and Gentlemen, please consider the consequences of such actions. We advise you to stay in your residence until you are scheduled to be picked up and brought into the safe zone.”
Tammy looked down at the papers in front of her.
“We have sent most of our Channel Eight staff home and are going to shut down briefly, so that we may move our equipment into the safe zone. We have received special clearance to do so and will resume coverage as soon as we are set up again.”
“We will continue to broadcast this last hour’s news throughout the rest of the day in a loop.”
Those watching Tammy closely, could see the slight sparkle in her eyes as tears started to form.
“We will end our live broadcast now but will resume as soon as we can. We hope to have more information for you about the syndrome and ... Please, keep yourself and your loved ones safe.”
With that the live broadcast ended.
Chapter Twenty
#SRigazze
October 25, 9:45 P.M.. Bari, Italy
Stefano Rigazze is a popular blogger from Bari, Italy. His English language blog had nearly twenty thousand followers. His blog had quickly become more popular though, as his latest entry garnered a lot of interest.
TODAY, I KILLED A MAN. He was no living man, but a dead man arisen! I still recall how his hands were cold as I wrestled with him, and his breath was awful! Mangiare Cavaderi, as we say – but literally so!
He tried to bite me! But I got lucky and he bit my jacket instead. Idiota.
Ok, I get too excited. Let me back up and start at the beginning.
Very early this morning I got a text from my friend Elena. She asked if I could come over to her apartment. She said that her neighbor – I think she said his name was Alberto – was banging on her door and he would not go away. I told her to keep her door closed and I would be right there.
Elena lives only a five-minute walk away from me, right down Monte Grappa street. So, I grab my coat because it’s a chilly day today. I get out of my apartment building and it’s very loud on the street even though it’s still very early in the morning. I hear a lot of sirens in the distance. The police station is only about a ten-minute walk from where I live, so I’m used to hearing the sirens – but not this many!
I start walking towards Elena’s apartment building and I hear banging. At first, I couldn’t tell what it was, but then I look up and there is a girl inside the building across the street, in an apartment on the second floor. She is banging on the window with her fists. She looks like she is very young – maybe five years old or so – but she keeps hitting the glass with both her hands and she looks right at me. Dio Mio! She has such a crazy look on her face! She keeps banging that glass but isn’t strong enough to break through it. I freaked out and sped up into a jog!
I slowed back down to a walk when I couldn’t hear the banging anymore. As I got closer to Elena’s apartment, I could hear other noises over the sirens. I could hear a lot of crashing and banging noises, and some people yelling (I couldn’t tell from what direction) and I am sure I heard somebody scream! People are really losing it! There was a dead dog lying on the sidewalk too. I thought about turning around then and going back home, but I was already close to Elena’s building by then. I got to her apartment building a minute later.
I did a smart thing at that point though. Or I thought I did a smart thing. In the end it didn’t help me at all! Anyway, somebody had left their walking stick just inside the door, so I grabbed it. The stick felt very solid in my hands. I felt safer and more confident with it. Elena’s apartment was on the third floor and I slowly made my way up the stairs. Compared to outside, it was so quiet. I couldn’t hear anything or anybody!
Elena’s apartment is the first apartment to the right of the stairs, and as I crept around the corner from the stairs, I saw... nothing. This Alberto must have given up and gone away. I crept up to Elena’s door, and I can see some blood on the door and door frame. I was thinking that maybe the guy hit the door so hard he hurt his hands. I knock lightly on the door and call Elena. She must have been on the other side of the door as she opened the door right away!
“Stefano! Quickly – come in!” She said. To my left I hear some noise and I see a person come out the next doorway. Looks like he is an elderly man. He doesn’t look very big, and I’m a healthy, pretty strong guy so I don’t panic. I turn to this guy and say “Ei tu! What’s your problem?!” Elena’s is still pulling on my jacket sleeve, so I turn to her and with some machismo I tell her I’ll take care of this.
By the time I turn back to face the old man he is almost on me. Merde Santa he looked messed up! His eyes – they were so wide open! And not white but grey! He come at me with his arms outstretched, and when I look closer, I saw he had broken his arm right near the wrist. It was hanging backwards at an angle, so his fingers were pointing back at his own face even though his arm was stretched out in my direction!
I was scared! I lifted the walking stick and poked him in his chest. “Get away from me, you crazy old man!” I yelled. He didn’t say anything, just kept coming. He hit the walking stick away and kind of lunged at me. Elena screamed so loud my ears were ringing! I got my arm up and he bit down on it. He pinched the skin of my arm a bit but mostly got a mouthful of my jacket. He wrapped his arms around me to try to get closer to my face, and I stumbled back another step. “Stop it you son o–” That’s when that stupido walking stick trips me up! I had never let it go, and it got tangled in my legs...
So, I go down hard, with this old bastardo on top of me! I’m holding him off me with both hands, and I tell you his breath was so bad that I gag (gagging? gagged?) and threw up – in the middle of the fight!
Next thing I know there is a loud noise between a “GONG” and “SPANG” and the old man is off me. Elena is standing over me with a cast iron pan. I quickly roll away from the old man. He was still moving! The guy should be out cold! I got up and went to pick up the walking stick but changed my mind and reached for Elena’s pan instead. She hands it over and backs into her apartment. The old guy was really struggling to get up – like his arms and legs are not responding to him. He
finally gets on his hands and knees and starts to crawl over to me. I told him one last time “You stop it!” But he kept coming. I wound up and hit him uppercut style with the pan. Like I was playing golf! I hit him so hard – he flipped over backward. He went slightly to his left and fell down the stairs. It was a sickening noise! Disgustoso! He must have broken several bones in that fall.
Elena and I looked to where he has landed, and he had finally stopped moving. I looked at the pan in my hand and realized that I had hit him with the side of the pan, rather than the broad part. There’s bits of bone and brain on it. It was gross!
I dropped the pan and turned to Elena. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m ok. ... Is it over?”
At that point, some or the other apartment doors opened, and people started to poke their heads out. I guess they were all waiting inside their apartments – waiting for somebody to come along and get rid of the guy. Most of them were older folks, and once they were sure that this Alberto character had been dealt with, they suddenly got bold and started talking and arguing about what had just happened.
I kind of felt angry. But mostly I felt gross. I was covered in my own puke, so I excused myself and headed into Elena’s apartment to clean up. She followed me in and closed the door. The she got busy fixing me some tea, and I ended up talking to her from her washroom as I got cleaned up. I asked her if she had called the police, and I guess she had called the police several times but every time they told her they couldn’t send anybody because all officers were dealing with stuff. I guess their phones were ringing off a hook.
I had a cup of tea with Elena and we tried to calm our nerves. We could still hear all the other tenants talking and arguing in the hallway. Funny, we just killed a man – or killed him for the second time (I am 100% sure he was already dead!) and there we sat drinking tea casually like nothing had happened.
Elena was too scared to stay on her own, so she asked if she could come to my place. We gathered some of her things and brought them to my place after that. The girl in the window was gone. Grazie Dio. We got back here very quickly – we ran most of the way! She emailed her family and then I told her I had to put this in my blog. So that takes us to this moment.
Apocalypsis Immortuos | Book 1 | Syndrome Page 10