Marionette Zombie Series | Book 12 | Dead Reckoning

by Poe, S. B.

  “Sit anyway.” The smile left Noah’s face.

  Scott pulled the chair back and sat. A girl not much older than Scott walked over and spooned out a bowl of the stew they were eating and placed it in front of Scott. He could smell it. It smelled wonderful. A week of MRE’s had been worse on him than he thought. The idea of warm food became too hard to resist. He reached for the spoon and glanced up to see Noah smiling at him.

  “Been a while since you had a hot meal?” Noah asked.

  “Just since y’all put me on MRE’s.” Scott took a bite. It tasted good. “We haven’t been living on dog food if that’s what you think.”

  “No, of course not. You seem a resourceful bunch. Tell me again about the first few days you all came together. You’ve told me about the buses and getting to the woods. Tell me about before that. When did you and your family realize something very bad was happening?”

  “I don’t know. I guess after the news started talking about more places than Madagascar. I think when it showed up in New York was when my Dad really got serious about doing something more than just waiting around. That was when he came up with the idea about the buses.”

  “So you remember the news reports?” Noah asked. He smiled a little.

  “Yeah.”

  “And that’s the first you heard of the Marionette virus?” Noah asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you remember a news report that showed an image of a doctor in Africa?” Noah asked. “An infected walking down the street in front of a hospital?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Scott said.

  “Would it surprise you to know that that particular footage, while very real, was actually captured several years before the outbreak went global?” Noah asked.

  “Bullshit.” Scott said. Noah laughed.

  “Are you so sure that you know what is and is not bullshit?” Noah asked. “Do you think it possible that maybe some people know more about what happened, and what is happening, than you?” Noah asked.

  “I guess but I still don’t believe you.” Scott said.

  “Come with me.” Noah stood and nodded at the others at the table. Scott followed him across the yard and back up the ramp into the trailer they first talked in.

  “Sit.” Noah said. “When you first arrived, you asked me a few questions. Tomorrow I am going to talk with Naomi and if things go the way I think they are going to go, we’ll be going our separate ways you and I.”

  “Good.” Scott said.

  “Since we may be soon parting company, I wanted to answer some of your questions.” Noah said.

  “What questions?” Scott asked.

  “You asked about our group. How it came to be.” Noah said. “While most of these people you have encountered here are relatively new there are a few who have been at it, shall I say, a bit longer.” Noah said.

  “The seven?” Scott asked.

  “Hannah said something?” Noah smiled.

  “She just said that seven of you have been together since the beginning.” Scott said.

  “She’s right depending on what you count as the beginning. But before what you believe is the beginning, before the seven, before Tallahassee, there was the two.” Noah started.

  Afterlife

  The meeting room light flickered on. Two men in lab coats walked in the door and sat down at the end of the table. Noah and Naomi stood against the far wall opposite them. Three military officers came in next, they sat together to the left of Naomi. Finally a woman in a smart business dress and subtly applied makeup with two aides came into the room.

  “Madam undersecretary.” The officers stood.

  “Gentlemen. And lady.” The woman nodded at Naomi.

  “Let’s get to it.” She sat at the table to the right.

  Her aides slid a large binder in front of her before leaving the room. One of the officers stood. An Air Force General.

  “Everyone here has been read into this program. I want to remind each of you again that this is an SCI briefing and information discussed here is only to be discussed with those who have code word access.” The general sat down.

  One of the doctors stood. He had a remote in his hand and activated the video monitor. A Department of Defense logo appeared followed by a simple headline. Incident 3

  “We can now confirm that the incident north of Busan was OW1 related.” The doctor started. “This is the third confirmed instance of outbreak since its discovery three years ago. The South Korean government was briefed on the five eyes intelligence regarding OW1 and quickly neutralized the outbreak before it spread. Final numbers have a total of three hundred and twenty-seven dead.”

  “Survivors?” The woman asked.

  “Two.”

  “Any immune?” The woman asked.

  “No. They had not been injured by the infected.” The doctor said. “The subsequent testing did however determine that they had been exposed to OW1 in the environment so we isolated them on location. Following confirmation of a second test, both subjects were neutralized according to policy.” The doctor grew visibly uncomfortable.

  “You disagree with that policy?” One of the generals asked.

  “Sir it’s possible that we are eliminating potential immune persons.” The doctor nodded at Noah and Naomi.

  “Agreed. But they weren’t bitten so we don’t know. And except for the one assumed immune in Brazil that killed herself there has been exactly one other immune we have discovered thus far besides these two with us here. If one of the exposed left the area and was subsequently killed crossing the street or just dropped dead of a heart attack, then we have a whole different problem on our hands. Sorry but the risk is too great.” The general said.

  “Are we sure it is contained?” the woman raised her head from the briefing documents.

  “Yes. A perimeter of two miles has been established around the village and greater Busan is at no risk at this time.” The doctor said.

  “And are we any closer to understanding this thing?” The woman asked.

  “Following the first incident the effort to understand this has been bolstered by the discovery of both Noah Waters and Naomi Fuller.” He nodded towards them. “Their ability to survive an activating event, a bite, has given us a lot of insight into what we’re dealing with. At least physiologically. There is still no real progress on sequencing. It’s not built with DNA, or at least any DNA that we recognize. We don’t know how to break it apart in any meaningful way to study it.”

  “You’ve had almost three years since the first incident. You’re telling me you still don’t know what this is?” The woman looked up.

  The doctor stiffened his back and spoke.

  “A virus. Basically. Not really different from most viruses in the way it acts. It infects, it incubates, but this is where it gets different. It stays that way. Just incubating more versions of itself, mostly concentrating in the bone marrow for some reason. But it doesn’t do anything, it doesn’t cause any reaction. No infection, no tumor, no cancer. It doesn’t even show up on a blood test at this stage. But it does show up in a spinal tap. That is a clue but we don’t really know where it leads yet. We have confirmed that any person exposed to OW1 is susceptible to reanimation upon death. Upon reanimation the virus takes over and directs the signals from the nervous system that control the muscular system. It will commandeer the host. Neurologically it is literally a puppet master. The hosts are the marionettes. Dead marionettes but marionettes still the same. There are things on this planet that do similar things. The Cordyceps fungus comes to mind. It takes over the host ant and directs it to help in its spread. That’s where the similarities end. OW1 directs the host to attack and consume humans.”

  “Just humans?” The general asked.

  “There are some instances of the animals being attacked and bitten but for some reason the infected haven’t shown a propensity to kill or consume them. ”

  “You said they take control through the nervous system. Does it infect the bra
in?” the woman asked.

  “Yes but differently. Once death occurs the virus that has been incubating in the bone marrow moves to fill the cranial cavity. It uses the brain as growth matter, like potting soil. Depending on the amount of exposure the migration process takes longer in different hosts.”

  “Amount of exposure?” She asked.

  “There seems to be varying degrees of latent virus, possibly due to different levels of initial and subsequent exposure to the contaminated environment. That’s why we see some people reanimate in seconds and some take hours.” The doctor said.

  “Hours?” The woman asked without looking up.

  “The longest so far, and this is with very limited information so this could change, is about five hours. The fastest we have seen reanimation has been less than thirty seconds following death.”

  “That fast?” The woman asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Continue.” She said.

  “The process of preservation begins immediately upon death. However we have found that preservation starts earlier in bitten subjects. The tissue at the bite mark becomes necrotic almost immediately and quickly spreads to all the major organs leading to heart failure. The few victims we’ve managed to talk to that survived the initial attack in which they were bitten expressed varying physical sensations and neurological deficiencies until they eventually succumbed. That process, a bite leading to death, seems to take anywhere from a half hour to up to eight. It depends on several factors but regardless of time, all eventually die and reanimate.”

  “Not all.” The woman nodded at Noah and Naomi.

  “Yes, of course. Not all. Most. We believe less than one tenth of one percent will be, I don’t know any other word for it but lucky. We have no understanding why those two are immune. They are unique to one another. Their backgrounds and medical histories have no common relationship to one another and the only thing relative to each of them was their unit assignment. The rest of their unit was typical of people that come into contact with OW1. They didn’t survive.” The doctor looked apologetically at Naomi and Noah. “There may be more like them but we just don’t know because we have no way to identify potential cohorts.”

  “You said the preservation starts immediately. What preservation?” The general asked.

  “Well they are corpses. They will eventually decompose. The virus lengthens that process. It produces a byproduct, a waste, which somehow desiccates the body. Partially mummifies it. That process takes a few weeks. But even when complete they are still slowly decomposing.”

  “You have twice mentioned the exposed.” The woman spoke. “So as I understand it there are two ways to be infected. Exposure or bites.”

  “That’s not exactly right. Anyone in the contaminated area is exposed and infected. There is little you can do to prevent it. The bite doesn’t seem to spread the infection so much as activate it if the victim survives the encounter and although there is no way to verify whether the bite would infect someone not environmentally exposed we suspect that would be the case.”

  “Are you exposed?” she asked.

  “No, I haven’t been in any of the zones.”

  “What if you had been? What if you were exposed? Would we be able to tell?” she asked.

  “Not without a spinal tap.” The doctor said.

  “So no way to tell if someone is a potential carrier?” She asked.

  “No. There are no physical signs, no fever, no hives, nothing to indicate exposure. It is possible that if exposure levels were high enough, a blood test could pick it up. In the samples we’ve collected from the reanimated subjects you can see the little yellow bastard in their blood.” The doctor said. “Sorry.”

  “Quite understandable.” The woman nodded.

  “So where are we on projections?” The general asked.

  The other doctor stood and joined the first one at the front of the room. .

  “Sir since we identified the object last summer NASA has managed to calculate a trajectory. It is a short period object that will most likely not survive contact with the corona on next passing. But it will come by us again before that happens. When it passes the planet, we will intersect the tail. There is no way to calculate the amount of debris that will eventually reach the surface but estimates are that it will be significant.” The doctor said.

  The video monitor played what to Noah looked like an amateur production space movie showing the earth flying through a shower of little animated viruses. Some landed on the surface. Where it touched turned black.

  “When?” The woman asked.

  “Next fall. October.” The doctor answered.

  “If the projections are accurate ninety-five percent of the earth’s surface will be covered with it and the five percent that’s not, well, no one lives there.” The doctor added.

  “You said we would pass through the tail debris, what will that be like?” The woman asked.

  “Most won’t notice. All that people will see is an uptick in shooting starts, like a meteor shower every night for several months.” He said.

  “Months?” She asked.

  “There will be a lot of debris stretched out over a long distance and we will sweep through it. It won’t be a quick shower like the video. Think of it as a passing mosquito truck. It will pass by, then fog us with debris from ahead as it moves away. Some of that debris will stay in our path for a long time. Months.”

  “Gentlemen, and lady,” The woman stood. “I asked that these two be here today for a very specific reason. I was informed two days ago by the Secretary that the President was prepared to authorize Operation Afterlife based on the results of this briefing. After hearing what you have had to say today and based on the urgency, I am going to recommend that the President do just that.”

  “You know we won’t be able to keep this under wraps much longer.” The General said.

  “Up to this point there has been no need for the public to be aware of this. That is unchanged. We are not going to cause mass panic. What we are going to do is begin activating the contingency plan to make sure we have continuity when panic comes on its own accord. Captain Waters and Lt. Fuller will be critical parts of that plan.” She nodded towards Noah and Naomi. “They have shown tremendous dedication in maintaining operational security around this situation and their unique personal situation makes them the obvious people to lead part of this mission.”

  “What is the mission?” Naomi asked. The room held the most powerful people she had ever been around and the weight of their authority made her voice crack. The woman turned and smiled.

  “My dear, you and your team mate will get to determine most of that.” She said.

  “I don’t understand.” Noah said. “What is Operation Afterlife?”

  The general stood and walked to the front of the room. He didn’t use the video monitor.

  “Three years ago Forward Operating Base Bosley in Djibouti was the first place to experience an outbreak.” The general started.

  “We know. We were there.” Noah interrupted.

  “I know you were Captain. And your subsequent survival and unique status launched the planning for Operation Afterlife. In the unlikely scenario that this contaminate became widespread there was a need to rethink the continuity of government plan. Since the likelihood that anyone currently serving in any position of authority being as unique as you is astronomically low there needed to be a plan to insure a different kind of continuity.” The general continued. “Thus far this bug has a one hundred percent infection rate and a ninety nine point however many nines you want death rate.”

  “But we do believe that if it does become a global issue, there will be more like you. It is just a matter of statistical probabilities that part of the global population is immune.” The doctor chimed in.

  “What part?” Naomi asked

  “Point zero one to point zero three percent.” The doctor said.

  “And that’s how many people?” Noah asked.

&
nbsp; “Roughly a million or so.”

  “Globally?” Noah asked.

  “Yes.”

  “So you’re telling us that over eight and half billion people are about to die?” Naomi asked.

  “No. I’m telling you eight and half billion infected husks are about to be all that’s left of humanity. Them, you and the others like you.” The general said. “Operation Afterlife is not about continuity of government, it is about the continuity of the humanity. A positioning of supplies and equipment in secure remote locations with separate secure facilities around the country that will be used to facilitate the reestablishment.”

  “Reestablishment?” Noah asked.

  The undersecretary looked at him from over her glasses.

  “That’s your part of the mission. We will give you the tools, the information and as much support as possible but if this happens, the way they say it will, it will ultimately be up to you to use that as you see fit.” She smiled. “We’re trying to make sure that when we’re all what the doctor called dead marionettes that you still have a fighting chance. There are others out there like you and Lt. Fuller. Operation Afterlife is all about them. You will find them. You will save them. But until then you will be working with these doctors and their team. If they can figure out a cure or vaccine or some form of protection gleaned from your unique biological input then they, with your help, may save the world. If they can’t, then you, with our help, will have to save it for us all, even after we’re gone.”

  “That meeting was almost three years ago now.” Noah said. “They didn’t tell us the other part of Operation Afterlife was trying to figure out a way to save their own ass but in the end it didn’t matter.”

  Scott eyes were wide. He wasn’t sure if any of this was true but Noah told the story effortlessly.

  “So that was the plan.” Noah said.

  “Wait, back up, you knew three years ago?” Scott asked.

  “I was bitten almost five years ago now. Naomi the same. We have been together ever since.” Noah said.

  “So what, you were like a commando team dealing with this?” Scott asked.