He quickly glanced over his shoulder and noted that Emily and Nat had made it to the gate. They would wait until he engaged the zombie before closing and securing the gate. Keith and Craig were at the right angle and distance.
Good to go.
As John swung his attention back to where they thought the target was, he heard and saw something at the same time. A kind of flapping noise, and something white.
One more slice of the pie and he would see it.
Get the visual. Brace. Calm in the mind, explosive in the body.
It was hard to keep the adrenaline from rushing through his body as he moved, Mel in lockstep just behind and off to his right.
The sheet of plasticised paper flapped again just then, as another gust of wind passed it.
Damn. Where the hell is it?
John took another step, completing the angle around the container. Then he raised his prosthetic fist to signal the team to hold.
Nothing. What the fuck. Ok. Focus. Eyes out.
John signalled the group to turn their attention outwards and scan for the target. After a few seconds, Mel, Keith and Craig had scanned their angles and hand signalled ‘no contact’.
John knew that he had to move his team. He quickly decided to move the group towards Emily and Nat. Less than a minute later they arrived at the gate.
The first thing John saw was the bodies. Several bodies littered the street near the gate – an obvious product of the soldiers that were posted there yesterday. John couldn’t help but notice that the bodies lay in the most awkward positions.
But dead bodies will do that. You’ve seen your share of them, haven’t you?!
No. Don’t go there.
John signalled to Emily to close the gate. The gate lifted from its open position into the tracks with a small clanking noise. The whole team froze for a second, but there was no movement. The gate slid in its track and met the bracket on the opposite side of the driveway. Nat lowered the clamp that would secure the gate. There was no lock, but somebody would have to undo the clamp and then pull the gate on its track to open the thing.
The undead shouldn’t be able to do that. ... Right? John didn’t feel like second-guessing, so he sent a signal to his team. Again, the signals came back that no contact was spotted.
“Stay alert and keep your distance from each other. Don’t bunch up on the way back.” He whispered to his team. He had already instructed them in the school, but he also knew these were mostly civilians. People get scared and let their emotions and fears control them. Those faults tended spell disaster for combat situations.
He had a quick look at his team before they moved. Craig looked scared. Nat looked ... angry? Emily and Mel also displayed signs of fear. Keith looked cool as a cucumber.
This guy is really something! John hoped that he looked as cool and collected as the oriental man.
The group started moving. John took point while Keith acted as rear guard. John again noticed how silent the world had become.
Then somewhere in the distance a gunshot rang out. It sounded far away, so John kept his team moving. The single shot was rapidly followed by several more shots. John was sure that he detected different caliber weapons being discharged. Somebody, or some people were likely fighting for their lives. It was a sobering thought.
The team had progressed to bottom of the steps, close to the school door. John and the others could hear sounds. These were the sounds of glass breaking, of things banging and crashing. The oddity was that these sounds were not accompanied by human voices. John knew that these sounds were made by zombies. They could hear those gunshots.
Ok John, get your team to safety.
John had a quick look and the coast was still clear. He gave the signal, which was acknowledged by a bunch of thumbs up signals from behind the windows. As one, all storm shutters started lowering. The sound was not as loud as John had feared. His team stayed alert – scanning all around for any sign of the zombie.
Maybe that damn ghoul wandered back out through the gate.
Just then, Craig whispered. “Movement at fence. Um... seven o’clock? Over there.” He said, eventually pointing towards the fence, about a hundred yards away from the gate.
A zombie had appeared and was moving along the fence. John didn’t think it had spotted them yet. This also wasn’t the same zombie that the group had seen earlier. This one was wearing clothes. John would have been convinced it was a living person, if it weren’t for the way it moved. It was still too far away for John to see its face – something for which he was thankful. The zombie continued to stagger along the fence towards the gate, and towards the group.
“Inside. Now.” He said. The group moved quickly, and they were all inside the school by the time the last storm shutter had been lowered. Jack closed and locked the door behind them.
As soon as they were inside the school, John called for Ethan. The boy ran over right away.
“We have a zombie at the fence, traveling towards the gate. Keep an eye on it and let me know if it reaches the gate.” Evan nodded and ran off immediately.
“Good work everyone.” John made his way to every team member and patted them on the shoulder. John made sure to use his real hand and not the prosthetic. People tended to act funny when he touched them with the damn thing.
Everybody reconvened in the cafeteria for an impromptu meeting. All windows in the basement and main floor had their storm shutters lowered. It gave the inside of the school a darkened look, more reminiscent of evening than morning.
Craig thanked everybody for their efforts and noted that their first mission was a success. Rachel Collins raised her hand and took a step forward.
“Yeah sure – but where is that naked zombie? Did you guys search the grounds for it?”
“We did not encounter it outside. It might have left the school yard through the fence – we’re not sure.” John admitted.
“So that thing could still be out there?”
“Yes.” John’s face grew stern. “Our task was to get the gate closed and the storm shutters down, not to go out there hunting zombies.”
Rachel was not going to let it go at that, but Joe put his hand on her arm.
“We’ll keep looking for it.” Craig intervened. “If we see it inside the fence then we will get a team together to take care of it. But for now, we have improved the security of our place, and nobody got hurt – so that’s a good thing, right?” He looked around him, receiving nods in return.
“Hey guys!” Ethan called from the cafeteria entrance. Something about the urgency in his voice made the whole group look up at him.
John took two quick steps towards the youngster. “Is that zombie at the gate?”
“Huh?” A flash of confusion crossed Ethan’s face. “Oh! No, it turned away and disappeared between some houses. No, it’s not that. It’s the President. He’s on the tv...” The young man wore an anxious expression. People started moving right away.
THE BROADCAST WAS ALREADY underway as people filed in and took seats or stood close to the tv so they could hear. Ethan was smart enough to keep the tv volume low.
Shelley saw the president’s face more clearly as she got closer. He did not look good. The President was sweating profusely, and he wore a pained expression. As Shelley started to make out words, she noted that even his voice sounded like he was in pain.
“–zones have fallen. In our rush to set the zones set up, we did not realize that there were many people out there that had not experienced symptoms yet but were infected, nonetheless. We did not know how this nano virus operated. As a result of this oversight, many of the safe zones had large numbers of infected within their populations. Measures were taken to try to remove infected from the general population, but people were scared, hid their symptoms, hid themselves, and in some cases openly rebelled against the folks running the zones.”
“We also underestimated the security requirements. Several zones suffered breaches, as the number of undead o
n the outside became overwhelming, causing the fences to fail. The sheer numbers were too much for the soldiers stationed at the safe zones, and... Many people died.”
The President stopped speaking. He swallowed and slowly blinked. When his eyes were open once again, tears were rolling down his cheek.
Ethan used the momentary pause to fill the team in. “He said that over half of the safe zones have been overrun. He said that he wanted to protect the safe zones that were still standing and that he ordered all the troops in the vicinity of those zones back t–” He stopped as the President started speaking again.
“I have doomed many uninfected individuals with my decisions. I will answer to my maker soon, but that doesn’t matter as much to me as asking those of you remaining for forgiveness.”
“I want to use the time I have left to prepare you for survival. We initiated a set of supply drops in numerous locations across the country. The supplies included in the drops contains the water, food, medicine, and tools that people will need to survive. Most of the supply drops have been completed. There are a few folks here in this bunker complex with me – uninfected folks – that will broadcast the locations to any survivors out there.”
The President hesitated for a second and raised a hand as if to placate his viewers.
“Now this might sound callous, but these communications are not to start for at least another couple of days. This is to ensure that we do not waste resources on people that are infected. I want you survivors to have the best possible chance – and that starts by letting the syndrome take its course with the infected.”
“In the meantime, those remaining armed forces that were not ordered back to the safe zones have been tasked with culling the number of undead. They have been doing so for the last few days. Unfortunately, I do not have many details about these activities. I know that our military forces are doing everything they can to help give you survivors a fighting chance.”
“Surviving will surely be a challenge. This new world... Ah sorry, I’m babbling.”
“We do have more information about the syndrome.” The President continued.
“It has been confirmed that nanobots, or a nano virus, is the cause of all this. Now folks, what that means is that this was a human engineered virus.”
This shocking revelation caused several of the group to cry out in outrage. Somebody shushed the group into silence as the President had continued to speak.
“–nobody has claimed responsibility. This is happening everywhere, and it appears that the rest of the world is suffering just as much or more than we are. Our science advisors are suggesting that this nano virus might have run out of control.”
“Nano viruses activate when a ‘kill switch’ is triggered. Our team suggests that this kill switch was triggered about two weeks ago. The signal was likely activated in Africa, where the first victims were identified. From there it spread out to the rest of the world. We estimate that the signal reached all corners of the world within ninety-six hours of the initial trigger.”
The President’s face grew stern. “Those responsible for this... I can’t express my anger and outrage sufficiently.” The President sat silently for a moment. His eyes on the desk in front of him. When he looked back at the camera, the anger shone bright in his eyes. He only said one sentence but delivered it with all the power that his persona could muster. “In the end, you will be judged.”
The President looked down and took a long, calming breath. When he faced the camera again, his countenance was calm once more.
“I’m going to reiterate some information. You may already know these things. The nano virus was somehow introduced into our food sources. Most processed foods – foods containing genetically modified organisms or ‘GMOs’ had been inundated with the virus. We can not confirm this completely, but it is our strongest hypothesis.”
“Our latest estimates... Folks this is shocking, but I must share it with you: The infection rates were between ninety-seven and ninety-nine percent, of the population of the world. Some places, such as Africa, India, and Asia have infection rates at nearly one hundred percent. North America, Europe, and New Zealand have the lowest infection rates, somewhere around the ninety-seven percent mark.”
“We know that these nanobots need to reach the brain in order to take control of the host, post-mortem. People that die from other causes, or before the nanobots make it to the brain, stay dead. My advisors have told me that at least a quarter of all the people infected with the syndrome have died from internal injuries and did not reanimate.”
A quick spasm of pain flashed across the President’s face. He quickly recovered though.
“Our scientists have determined that the amount of nanobots in the system correlates directly to the control of host functions. What that means is the more nanobots in the body that travel to the brain, the more control these nanobots can exert over the host body. We have witnessed proof of abilities including running, jumping and simple problem solving, including opening doors.”
Shelley could hear a sharp intake of breath from somebody in the room. She also couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Smart zombies?!
The President continued to speak. “The undead can only be destroyed by destruction of brain matter, and the nanobots within the brain. It’s also important to know that the undead can not infect another person.”
“They display raw aggression, likely linked to the control of the amygdala, which is the part of the brain that controls fear and anger. There is also a significant amount of brain tissue death in the prefrontal cortex, which is the part of the brain that controls reasoning and decision making.”
The President frowned ever so slightly, followed by a rueful smile.
“Folks, I was never any good in science. There is some more science here in my notes, about them being audibly stimulated – basically, they rely primarily on their hearing in order to track their prey. The important part for you folks is to stay as quiet and hidden as you can. Remember that they register no pain, nor fear, nor reason. They are very dangerous. Avoid them if you can!”
The President grimaced as pain lanced through his body.
“My time is coming to an end. My close friend and my personal bodyguard are going to help me end my life shortly. I do this – no. ... I choose this because I do not want to become a burden on the survivors. This is no sacrifice. This is a duty. I also call upon all those suffering with syndrome symptoms to do what is right. Give the survivors just a little bit more of a chance.”
“I love this country and its people. I love what we stand for.”
The President’s eyes welled up once more.
“It has been an honour and the greatest of privileges, to serve you. God bless you all.”
With a slight nod from the President, the feed ended.
The group stood in somber silence. Shelley saw that several people were openly weeping. Some other folks were spontaneously hugging each other – people that had only met a day earlier were bonded by a strong emotional tie to their commander-in-chief.
ABOUT AN HOUR LATER, everybody was back in the cafeteria. Sarah, Rosa, Nancy and Shelley served up a breakfast consisting of scrambled eggs, Canadian ham, bacon, toast, and hash browns.
John and Mel were eating their breakfast when Jack walked up and asked to join them.
“Of course, Jack. Take a seat.” Mel was quick to invite the family friend.
Jack sat down and smiled broadly at John. He took a bite of his breakfast, his eyes still on John. John noticed. Not one to beat around the bush, he asked the boy if there was something on his mind. Jack’s eyes got big, color rising to his cheeks.
Oh shit. Looks like I have a fan. John couldn’t help but feel mildly amused.
“Well... It’s just that I saw you out there. And you were like...” The young man put down his fork and ran his fingers across his bangs, pulling his wispy blonde hair away from his forehead. John waited patiently for the boy to continue.
; “You were so professional. Like you knew exactly what to do!” John smiled at the compliment.
With a slight shake of his head, John replied. “I’m no professional. Haven’t been one for a long time. Jack, did your dad never tell you about my history?”
The young man considered for a moment before replying. “Yeah, he said you were in the army. But the way you moved...”
“That’s nothing special. Most army training includes squad tactics. That was just some movements and simple communications.” John could see that this wasn’t going to be enough, so he continued.
“I used to be in the Rangers. The 75th Ranger Regiment – Regimental Reconnaissance Company to be exact. I was what they call an ‘operator’.”
“Wow...” Jack’s eyes were like saucers.
John grinned. “Hey that’s nothing. Mel here was in Special Operations Command.”
Jack just looked back and forth between John and Mel. “Cool!” Was all he could say.
“That was years ago, Jack.” Mel chimed in. The threesome ate a few bites of their breakfasts in silence before Jack again looked up with another question.
“I saw that when you were moving, you walked slowly but your head moved fast!”
“Yeah. That’s called having your head on a swivel. Your eyes and ears are your best tools out there, so you move slowly and deliberately, but you have to always be scanning for threats.”
The rest of breakfast was filled with questions. Jack was soaking up information like a sponge. Eventually, Craig rescued the couple by asking for volunteers to help inventory the supplies.
A few people stayed behind to clean up after breakfast. The rest of the group helped with the sorting and tallying of the supply drop. A couple of hours later, everything was accounted for.
THE ITEMS IN THE SUPPLY drop included three full pallets of MREs, which added up to almost 10,000 meals. Sarah had provided an accounting of the school’s food supplies as well. They would have enough food to last them for several months. One of the pallets also contained food related items, such as utensils, can openers, scrubbers, and portable stoves with fuel pellets.
Apocalypsis Immortuos | Book 1 | Syndrome Page 17