What Remains (Book 2): Quarantine

by Barrett, Tyler

  “Well let's go back upstairs, shall we?” Asked the doctor nonchalantly.

  Yuuto and Arata both followed the doctor back to the elevator. Once all three of them were in the doctor pressed the button to bring them back to the lobby. Just before the elevator door closed, two distinct gunshots rang out. All three men ignored the fact they knew what the shots meant and silently rode the elevator. Yuuto and Arata never spoke of it, leaving the hospital.

  Chapter 11

  Isamu drove civilians from one end of the city to the other all day. He felt the knot in his chest loosen after the first bus trip and saw nothing out of the ordinary. The people were scared, but not for the reasons the people he had driven the previous day. These people were scared because they were being moved somewhere new. The soldiers were reasonably nice as well, telling Isamu that they had received intel that heavy rioting was going to occur later that night in the area and they were evacuating people for their safety.

  The soldiers even went into detail that they had all relief centers running at full capacity to prevent any civilian casualties. The soldiers speculated that everyone would be sent back to their homes within the week. It calmed Isamu's nerves. He started to feel that he had the night before had maybe been a fluke, a rare occurrence.

  As he walked into his apartment he finally felt the ache of sleep throughout his body; his muscles tired and eyes heavy. Isamu willingly let his brain shut down, falling into a deep sleep as soon as he laid down on his bed.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Thud. Thud. Thud. Crack, crack, crack.

  These loud noises were constant, intruding Isamu's sleep. They were distant, but still too loud for his comfort. He stood up from his bed, walking to his window again. It was dark out, and the lights from the street peered into his bedroom. Looking both ways down the street, he couldn't see anything. The building across the street hid any view of anything beyond as well.

  Isamu knew those were gunshots though, and he figured that the soldiers earlier were right. Somewhere to the north, there was heavy rioting happening, and the military was attempting to stop it. The sounds of gunfire made no notion it would end anytime soon. Isamu thought about all those poor people they had evacuated this morning.

  If they hadn't been moved to another area, they would have been stuck in the crossfire. Many lives would have been lost, innocent lives. It restored some faith he had in the government and that they were trying to protect those who were innocent. He wondered, however, how successful the government was at putting down the riot. Judging by the sound of gunfire there was still no end.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Yuuto and Arata had returned to the checkpoint, bringing over three hundred civilians to the hospital, probably only one percent of that number were infected. Excited chatter amongst the rest of the soldiers in the tent could be heard from outside. They both entered the tent, hoping to get some food and relaxation in before they slept.

  “Hey Yuuto, Arata, did you guys hear the news?” Asked a soldier huddled around the radio.

  “No. We've been out all day and haven't heard anything,” Yuuto replied quizzically.

  “Reports of a giant horde of infected have been reported heading towards the northern and western parts of the metro. They are talking about firebombing the outskirts of the city and then taking out the rest of the infected on foot. Diachi even said that they might send some of us up north to help tomorrow morning,” stated another soldier.

  Arata spoke with a tired voice, “Well then I guess I had better get some sleep...I'm exhausted.”

  Yuuto went over to his cot, eating a meal before laying down, hoping sleep would come easy. Arata had already drifted off and was snoring. Yuuto thought about what it would be like to be chosen for an actual live ammunition scenario. It was not long before his eyes shut, and he too drifted off to sleep.

  Five hours later the distinct sound of gunfire and heavy ordinance expended at a rapid rate was heard off in the distance. Neither Arata or Yuuto woke at the sound, being so exhausted from the long day they had. Every soldier awake stopped, listening to the sound of warfare, a sound many of them had never heard before.

  Chapter 12

  Yuuto was awoken early by Diachi barging into the tent, “Everyone wake up!”

  Diachi walked around the tent shaking awake those who had trouble listening to his command. Groans echoed from several men, their bodies aching for more sleep. Yuuto sat up, rubbing his eyes; Arata stretched, hoping to bring more blood flow to his limbs. After a minute of everyone gathering themselves from the realm of sleep, they gathered near Diachi, who waited for them.

  “Alright, first thing. Last night about 0200 the first horde of infected made its approach on the western edge of the metro, followed by multiple more along the northern edge. I'm sure many of you heard the firefight throughout the morning. Command is calling it an overall success with a five percent mortality rate amongst the troops deployed. Overall, Command estimates over nine thousand confirmed infected killed.

  Now, the second part. We have been asked to loan troops from the wards unaffected by the attack last night to help with body removal and to reinforce areas that took heavy casualties. Now from this checkpoint, we are sending Yuuto, Arata, and Haruo,” Diachi turned toward the three men, “Haruo, you are to be transferred to Adachi ward. Report to their command, and they will assign your new platoon. Yuuto and Arata, you are to take the truck and report to the command with Haruo, but only to assist with the body removal. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir!” All three of them replied at the same time.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Jiro had been excited about being deployed and being able to make a difference, the main reason he had joined the army. He was just as surprised as everyone else when briefed on the infection that was kept hidden from the public as riots. He did his job though, keeping the lie going, as they moved all the civilians from their homes into temporary camps all across the city. They told the people it was for their protection, and it was, but not against rioters, but an infected horde that threatened to end the world as they knew it.

  He even volunteered to stay and help defend the city against the infected hordes that were heading to the city. A few left with the buses that moved the civilians, but most of his platoon stayed. Warnings had been given that the hordes would be entering the outskirts within the next hour or so. They had made sure that defenses were put in place, ammunition had been checked, rifles had been primed. It was the calm before the storm.

  As if to signal the start of the infected advance, fighter jets flew overhead, dropping ordinance, bombing the hordes. The ground shook as the blast wave webbed its way through the city. It was an effort to slow and thin out the hordes. Jiro stood at the checkpoint they had constructed; every soldier waited nervously waiting for infected to arrive. It wasn't long before off in the distance the could see multiple figures come into view. The streetlights made it hard to tell how many there were, but they could see them.

  Jiro's hands started to sweat from anticipation, wiping his palms on his pants. They waited for the command from the platoon leader to open fire. Jiro wanted to fire his rifle but knew at this range his chances of hitting anything were small. He could see that the infected walked with a slow gait, and it made it that much more unbearable.

  They had one trained marksman, who stood on a small tower they had erected. He didn't wait for the command, taking his first shot. CRACK. Jiro couldn't tell if the shot had hit anything or not. Regardless, the marksman took another shot.

  Someone called out to the marksman, “How many do you see?”

  The marksman waited until after he took his next shot to reply, “At least two hundred.”

  The platoon started to talk amongst themselves nervously, until the platoon leader spoke, “I know everyone is nervous. I know a lot is riding on this. Just remember we are here to protect the people of this nation, families, some of them your own families. Do you want to let your nation, and your families down? Do
you want your loved ones to be infected, turned into a crazy person with no hope of being who they once were?”

  All the soldiers shouted together, “No!”

  This hope was what the soldiers needed; the determination to stop the infection before it could cause any more damage. Each soldier's nerves had been steeled and resolve doubled.

  The infected were now a block away, and they could finally see the sheer scope of how many there were, but they felt ready. At half a block away the soldiers finally saw their first close look at the infected. Pale white skin, with infected black veins spider webbing across their skin. A few of the better shots tried to line up a few kills, which they scored a few.

  The horde of infected now approached, at only a couple hundred feet away, and now entered a more favorable range. The soldiers lined up shots, scoring several headshots, but still missed quite a few. At this range, the sound of the horde's slow rhythmic advance was almost louder than the gunfire. At one hundred feet the soldiers began to put down the infected with ease. Body after body fell, but the advance seemed never to stop.

  “SHIT!!! Another horde is approaching from the west!” Called out the marksman from atop his tower.

  The platoon leader pulled half the men from the wall facing the first horde, placing them on the western wall. It was when Jiro began to worry that there might be too many infected. They still had two-thirds of the first horde left to kill, and a second one now too. Jiro kept firing until he needed to replace his magazine, letting the empty one fall amongst all the spent casings below him.

  The first horde was now only twenty feet from the wall, and Jiro started to feel a knot in his stomach form as he realized they wouldn't be able to kill them all in time. One soldier realized this as well and took off running, abandoning his post. The platoon leader noticed the soldier running and looked to see why panic overcame him as well.

  “Retreat!” Yelled the platoon leader.

  Several men followed suit, while a couple stayed behind. Jiro was one of those who remained. He felt it was wrong to let cowardice overtake him. Instead of running, he quickly ran over to a crate of ammo, grabbing as many ready magazines as he could fit into his pockets and began climbing the small tower with the marksman.

  The marksman looked over at him as he reached the top and dumped the magazines onto the floor. Below the three other men that had remained gave all the effort they could, but the tides of the infected engulfed the checkpoint. The weight of the infected easily toppled the thin metal walls they had erected only days before. All the marksman and Jiro could do was watch as the three men were swallowed by the infected. Only the marksman and himself remained.

  They stared at the horde below as they shambled towards the rest of their platoon that had run. The screams of the three men that stayed were short and full of pain. The two hordes quickly became one and swelled to over four hundred infected. Jiro checked his weapon, seeing that he only had a few bullets left he ejected them from the magazine, putting in a fresh one.

  He stood up, placing his rifle against the side of the tower, and readied to fire. Before he could the Marksman interrupted him, “Do you want to draw attention to us? There is no way we can kill them all.”

  Jiro looked down at all the infected below knowing it was true, “We have to slow them down. Otherwise, they will overtake another checkpoint and another. You saw what they did to ours; this could be happening across the city. We have to try.”

  “Alright, give me a couple of those magazines,” the Marksman said with a sigh, switching his sniper rifle for the standard issue one, “We need to take them out one by one. I have a couple of grenades I can use to thin them out a bit and distract them. Here you take one, and we'll throw them together.”

  Jiro took the grenade, and they both pulled the pins, chucking them over the side into the mass of infected below. Several seconds later two loud explosions shook the tower. One grenade had made its way towards the truck they had arrived in and blew the gas tanks. The second landed directly in the middle of the intersection were the densest mass of infection was. Overall, they took out at least forty infected.

  Neither one of them waited to open fire lining up shots as quickly as they could. Jiro felt as though they were killing them rather quickly, having each dropped five infected before they all started to turn their focus from the explosions to the gunfire. The infected swarmed towards the tower, which gave them easier shots at the infected as they turned to look at the sound. However, the amount of infected moving towards the tower began to start moving the tower itself.

  Jiro tried to ignore the feeling that the tower was going to fall at any minute and kept firing. He looked down at their faces of the infected. Pale, horrifying, dead faces looked back, gaping mouths and reaching hands begging them to come down. Jiro met this plea with hot lead. He killed several infected in quick succession; it was hard to miss since the horde was so thick.

  Even though the infected were slow moving, they only had less than a minute before the horde enveloped the ground around the tower. Each side of the tower was quickly surrounded by the infected, and the tower began to shake. It didn’t stop the Marksman and Jiro from continuing their assault against the infected. With each shot, a body fell to the ground.

  As the tower became more unstable, it became harder for them both to make their shots hit their targets.

  “The tower is about to collapse!” Yelled the Marksman to Jiro.

  “We aren't going to make it!” Yelled Jiro back, knowing that he had made his choice when he climbed into the tower.

  Neither one said anything else and continued their assault. Jiro had to hold onto the side of the tower as it began to shake uncontrollably. He felt as the tower lifted off the ground, gaining enough momentum to begin its fall. Jiro's rifle flew out of his hands, and he fell over the side of the tower.

  The Marksman fell out as well, but unfortunately for him, he fell into the mass of the infected. Jiro, on the other hand, slipped underneath the tower the metal support beams landing directly on his legs. He felt his arm snap and pain shot through it to his shoulder. He tried to move but could only support himself with his broken arm.

  The screams of the Marksman gave the infected something to focus on other than him. It wasn't long before his screams stopped as the other soldiers had. Jiro tried to slip his legs out from under the beams, but it proved too heavy for him to move. As he tried to push the beam once more, a hand grabbed his shoulder and tried to pull him.

  One of the infected that had been trapped under the tower as well was trying its hardest to reach Jiro. Realizing that an infected was that close sent him into overdrive. He began to shove harder on the beam trying to escape. It wasn’t long before the infected noticed him grunting and rustling around. The horde turned its attention towards the rattling noise Jiro made while trying to move the tower.

  Jiro quickly scanned the ground around him looking for any weapon he could find. His eyes settled on the sidearm that had luckily fallen next to him. He reached out for it with his broken arm, fiery pain shot through his entire side of his body begging him to stop, but he knew he couldn't. He barely grasped the handgrip and pulled it closer.

  He carefully lined up a shot on the closest infected, the one trapped with him. With a loud bang, the infected slumped forward dead. He felt momentarily safer and quickly looked back and forth, choosing another infected to shoot. The infected were having trouble maneuvering between the metal support bars of the tower to reach him. He lined up seven more perfect headshots and stopped knowing he only had one bullet left.

  The infected were closing in on him; he only had a few moments remaining. He knew he only had two choices; the first was to use the last bullet to kill one last infected and be left defenseless to the infected or use it on himself. Jiro knew there was no cure, no coming back from being infected. With that in mind, he made his decision.

  Closing his eye, he aimed his pistol upwards, the barrel was still warm as he pressed it under his
chin. He quickly made his peace and squeezed the trigger. He felt no pain. Instead, he heard the click of the striker jamming the bullet in the chamber.

  He panicked, trying to work the handgun with one hand but couldn't grasp it correctly to un-jam it. In frustration he threw the pistol at an infected, hitting it in the face. It did no physical harm but felt satisfying. He watched with growing fear as the infected got closer and closer. He attempted to throw a punch using his free arm, but all it did was slow down one infected amongst the horde that enclosed him.

  Eventually, there was nothing he could do; the infected grabbed at him from every direction. He could feel their unending hunger pulling him closer to each of them. The pain that he felt as several infected tore into his flesh was unbearable. Luckily for Jiro, his mind blacked out from the shock. That was his last living, conscious, moment.

  Chapter 13

  Yuuto and Arata walked down the empty streets, other soldiers from various platoons were with them, forming a ragtag group. The commanders in charge ordered them to assist with performing body removal, a gruesome task. To help them with this task they had each been given a pair of thick rubber gloves and a facemask. Each soldier took the gloves and mask, silently putting them on.

  Before they had been told what they were doing here, there had been murmurs and general talk about what happened last night. The word around the camp was that several checkpoints were overrun and that the ones that weren't, most of the soldiers didn’t make it. Half of the soldiers stationed throughout the ward were supposedly missing or KIA. It contradicted what they were told earlier that only five percent was killed during the fighting. Yuuto figured it was mainly both truth and overexaggerated.

  He didn't dwell on it too long, instead, turning his focus on his surroundings. Command had warned them that there could be the occasional infected still roaming around. It would be the first time he had seen someone after they had become fully infected. He was nervous about this fact but knew what he had to do.