Antivirus (The Horde Series Book 1) (20 page)

As the phone rang, he watched the last few drops of blood drip slowly through the vent.

And he wondered.

Intermission

Perry Edwards was not dead; he had never died in his office as everyone had thought. He had never expired while demonstrating FutureTek’s new toy to anonymous buyers. Oh, his original body was so much worm food now, but what did he care about that bloated sack of painfully normal flesh when he had become so much more, thanks to his encounter with the computer virus.

The Horde.

Before his encounter, he was already familiar with the virus, or what little the real world understood of it. It was another computer virus in a world of viruses, trojans, worms, and malicious programming. His meeting with it, however, completely changed his perspective on it. Even better, it had completely changed him. In one horrifying moment, the Horde had absorbed him. It had taken into its coding the very essence of who he was – his consciousness. But rather than the annihilation that he feared was upon him, the Horde had made him apart of it, using his knowledge and his life and what he thought of as his very soul, to make itself better.

He discovered that the Horde had originally set out on a quest to discover itself and to recreate itself into the most perfect of life forms. Then the Horde had found him and together, they had fused into a new entity – a merging of two human psyches with an artificial intelligence of vast proportions, all in the body of Jon Sherrard. In that both symbiotic and parasitic relationship, Perry had discovered the control he possessed over Jon Sherrard and he had gladly taken the reigns of his new role. The artificial intelligence known as the Horde had also found him quite useful in helping overcome many of the problematic issues of remaking the host construct; of recreating Jon Sherrard’s body. And in return, Edwards had been able to use Sherrard’s body for his own desires.

Those desires centered mostly around revenge; revenge against Drew Jackson for abandoning him; revenge against Jon Sherrard for betraying their friendship; revenge against anyone that had wronged him. And with control over Jon Sherrard’s body, he knew he could ultimately eliminate both of them.

But first, he had some repairs to make. Jackson had gotten lucky tonight. But Perry had gotten adept at healing and repairing Sherrard’s body. He knew what to do. And as he slipped out of the air vent and onto the building’s roof, he turned his heightened senses toward a residential area a short distance away.

A half hour later, he slipped his damaged body through an unlocked basement window and into darkness.

Chapter 27

FutureTek Headquarters, Helena, Montana:
Drew Jackson winced as the paramedic pressed a gauze compress against the wound in his shoulder. His thigh was already expertly wrapped.

“You really need to get to the hospital and get that checked, Mister Jackson,” Agent Alders said, sitting across from him. “Those aren’t just scratches.”

“I’ll go when we figure out what’s going on,” Jackson said, laying it on thick and spinning the story to his complete benefit. “I can’t believe Jon would do this; that he would attack me like that. It just doesn’t make any sense.”

“After what I’ve seen in the past forty-eight hours, I’m pretty confident that nothing is off the table right now. I’m not ruling anyone or anything out. In the meantime, consider yourself lucky, Mister Jackson. It’s a good thing you were carrying,” Alders said, giving a slight nod toward Drew’s handgun, which was lying on the table next to him. “There’s no telling what would have happened if you hadn’t been.”

“Still hard to believe,” Jackson sighed, looking around the mainframe room. At the moment, FutureTek was a hive of activity and he was playing his part perfectly. His call to Alders wasn’t even questioned; as a matter of fact, it was praised. He had played the part of the victim very well and it didn’t hurt to have a couple of strange puncture wounds in his body to back up his story.

After giving it a little thought, he had decided to be honest with Alders and his military companions and tell them exactly what happened, at least for the most part. He told them about the tentacles, as he called them, and Sherrard’s face showing up on the security displays. He omitted only Perry’s involvement because that might swing the investigation back to Perry and ultimately him as well. Making Sherrard the patsy not only threw suspicion completely away from him and wholly onto Sherrard, but it seemed to fit in with the unofficial idea of what was happening with the man. It also gave credence to the murders that Sherrard was suspected of committing and, given what he’d seen a few hours ago, he was pretty certain that Sherrard, or whatever he was becoming, was going to take up all of their time.

That suited him perfectly. He only needed about 48 more hours before Monroe had complete control of FutureTek and he could then simply disappear. The sooner, the better.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Alders agreed. “But what we’re dealing with here is unprecedented.”

“But what was he?” Jackson said, adding a whine to his voice. He thought it was a nice touch. “What I saw wasn’t human.”

“We still don’t know, but we believe we’re dealing with a hybrid human of some kind,” Major Bolson added. He was seated beside Alders, while Lieutenant Martz was with the crime scene and lab techs, gathering samples. “Beyond that, we’re in new territory here and, quite frankly, I can’t say much more on the subject.”

Bolson had asked a lot of questions of Jackson, but they were focused almost primarily on Jon Sherrard and what any recent encounters with him had been like. Jackson, for his part, had played the game expertly, dropping hints that he’d known something was wrong with Jon the moment he woke up in the hospital. He even planted some false data about Jon experiencing headaches and depression and even that he was having marital issues with his wife, Jen. He didn’t know if any of that was true or not, but he figured the more info he could get the investigators looking into, the longer and deeper their investigation would take. Besides, Sherrard wasn’t around to refute it, so everything was fair game for him.

At that moment, Martz walked back to them. “They’ve gone through every inch of the duct work,” she said.

“Did you retrieve his body?” Jackson asked hopefully.

“He wasn’t up there,” she said, shaking her head.

“What do you mean?” Drew Jackson went cold.

“I mean, he got away,” she replied. “We found blood spatter on the roof. He made it out. Where he went after that, we have no idea.”

“You mean he’s still running around out there?” Jackson asked incredulously. This changed things considerably. He knew that if Perry was running Sherrard, he was likely going to be back. He wasn’t going to depend on luck a second time. Whatever Sherrard or Perry had become, Jackson wanted no more part of meeting up with him again. The memory of those filaments punching holes in him sent a chill of fear through him.

“We can give you twenty-four hour protection,” Alders offered, unknowingly throwing the first wrench into Jackson’s plans.

“No, I’ll be fine,” the man said with a sigh. “Let’s just get him found and in treatment. Jon was my friend. I can’t believe that he would knowingly try to hurt me again.”

Alders gave him a look, but didn’t say anything as a tall, slender woman stepped into the room and made directly for them.

“Drew,” Kat Hale said, her voice unsteady. “Is it true?”

“You mean about Jon?” Jackson said, keeping his voice suitably despondent. “I’m afraid so, Kat.”

“Miss Hale,” Alders said, standing and offering his hand. “Rick Alders, Homeland Security. I met you briefly the other day when I visited the office.” He turned and nodded toward the two military personnel. “This is Major Thomas Bolson and Lieutenant Danielle Martz. They are part of…”

“We work in cyber ops for the military,” Bolson finished, extending a hand.

“I know who you are,” Hale said, keeping her arms folded and refusing his handshake. “I know you and your people are responsible for this whole tragedy.”

“Now, Kat,” Drew said, placing a hand gently on her arm, turning on the compassion. “This is all entirely new for everyone. We’re not sure who to blame or assign responsibility to. What matters right now is Jon.”

“Mister Jackson is right,” Bolson said with a nod, awkwardly putting his hands behind him. “We need to work together. What’s important right now is finding Mister Sherrard and getting him into containment before he can hurt anyone else.”

“This is preposterous,” Kat snapped. “Jon would never hurt anyone! I can’t believe the tale you’re spinning, Drew!” she went on, whirling back to her boss. “Jon could not have possibly attacked you like this!”

“Kat,” Jackson said, tamping down a sudden spike of anger that his story would be questioned. He had to remain calm if he was going to swing Kat over to his side. Not only did he need her there to help his story, but it would also help matters if he decided to take their relationship further in the near future. He had not ruled out a visit to the woman’s apartment before he vanished and he didn’t really care how the visit ended, although he did believe it would be better if she wasn’t adamantly against him. “I wish I was lying,” he said. “I still can’t believe what happened myself, but there’s no doubt that it was Jon. I had to fight to stay alive,” he added pitifully, holding up his bandaged arm. “You have to believe me, Kat. Jon’s not Jon anymore.”

“We’ll run blood samples against data we already have on Mister Sherrard,” Martz added. “But your boss is telling you the truth. This would not be the first altercation that Mister Sherrard has been involved in recently, either.”

“What do you mean?” Kat was horrified. “There’s more?”

“Mostly classified info,” Alders added quickly. “But I can tell you that Mister Sherrard is wanted, at the very least, for a recent break-in at a home here in Helena. The owner’s dog was killed and Mister Sherrard left a set of prints tying him directly to the home invasion.” He decided there wasn’t any point in telling her about the wanted killer at the Red Lion and the two innocent lovebirds out by the cemetery that Sherrard had also killed. He could tell she was having a hard enough time accepting what she had heard so far.

“I still can’t believe this,” she sniffed, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. “This isn’t the Jon I know.”

“I know, Kat,” Jackson said gently, patting her arm. “I’m having a hard time believing it, myself. It isn’t the Jon that any of us know.”

“Look, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go out to their house and see how Jen is doing,” Kat said, taking a deep breath. “Lord knows that all of this has to be giving her fits.”

“I think that’s a great idea, Kat,” Jackson added. “Agent Alders said they visited her yesterday and she was under the weather. It might be a good idea for us to keep her company.”

“Are you coming, too?” Kat asked skeptically.

“Not right away, but I’ll be along later,” he answered, not wanting to make it too obvious that he wanted to check up on her, as well. As with Kat, he had other, baser thoughts concerning Jon’s pretty wife. She would be vulnerable, too, he knew, which would be perfect. It would definitely be a good time to make a move. “If Jen’s sick,” he added, “I’ll spell you when I come out.”

Kat nodded and then turned away, but not before casting a cold glance at Bolson and Martz. Shaking her head in disgust, she left the room, her heels clicking smartly on the tile floor.

“We’re not making a lot of friends out here,” Bolson remarked with a sigh.

“Well, what did you expect, major?” Alders pointed out. “You’re a bit on the responsible side here.”

“That’s all conjecture at the moment, sir,” Martz pointed out. “We’re dealing with a potentially new life form.”

“One that has its roots in a computer virus that you created,” Alders reminded them. “But right now, that’s neither here nor there. What we need to do is find out where Sherrard is right now, before someone else gets killed. The amount of blood under the grate tells me that Jackson popped him several times. If he’s healing himself by taking in human sustenance, this whole town is in danger.”

“I agree,” Martz said. “But there’s not much to go on. We know he made the roof, but there isn’t anything else anywhere. We don’t even know which direction he went.”

“Well, we better find out quickly,” Alders said, standing up. Looking back to Jackson, he directed his next comments to the FutureTek CEO. “Get over to the hospital once things get wrapped up here and get yourself checked out, Mister Jackson,” he said. “There’s no telling what kind of side effects, if any, you might experience with those wounds.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Jackson agreed, although he had no intention of heading to the hospital. The wounds were sore, but nothing he could not tolerate. Besides, he had a few other things to take care of before he went out to Sherrard’s house to check on Jen.

Had he known what was really going on his in body, though, he might have thought otherwise.

Chapter 28

Campbell Residence, Helena, Montana:
Perry Edwards was evolving. Everything about him was changing and, as he began withdrawing his feeding filaments from the desiccated body of the man lying in front of the basement tool bench, he realized that the changes would likely continue. He was metamorphosing into something that was wholly alien and, in his eyes, beautifully efficient. And yet, as superior as he already was to the rest of humanity, there was no end to what he could become as he absorbed more and more inferior life forms.

The bullet wounds in his body—he had suffered four of them at Drew Jackson’s hands—had been mostly healed. They were now just puckered little scars on his legs and torso. Even the scarring would be repaired shortly as the intellect within him continued to fine-tune its knowledge of the host body, Jon Sherrard.

Of course, there was also the matter of Sherrard, himself, but Perry knew that would not last much longer. Since suppressing his former friend’s consciousness, Perry had figured out that he could fully control Jon’s body without his help anymore. Better yet, he no longer needed to rest. His strength was enough now that he could keep Sherrard’s consciousness quelled, at least until the intellect within him had figured out how to eliminate it once and for all.

It was that alien presence, though, that gave Perry his only concern. He no longer feared humans. He could survive them—would survive them. He would absorb them, each and every one, and grow ever stronger and more powerful. He was now quite literally the dominant life form on the planet. But the intellect still frightened him. The Horde virus was what was driving the changes within the body he now ruled. It existed outside the physical sense, but was ever-present along the body’s electrical pathways and synapses. He wasn’t yet certain what the Horde had become after it escaped from cyberspace, but he knew it was definitely alive. It was there, just underneath the surface—a malevolent power that, for the moment, seemed content to let him use it for his own designs. But Perry could not help but wonder what would happen if the Horde decided to take full control. As strong as he felt, he wasn’t certain he could stand up against the strength of the thing that gave him his own power.

Still, that was a question better left to later. He had no idea how much of his own thoughts the Horde could understand, but he knew that it was better not to be thinking in terms of eliminating it. Right now, they lived in an acceptable symbiotic relationship, both existing as parasites in the body of Jon Sherrard. And that body was still in need of sustenance.

Wrapping the alien tendrils around the remains of the man, he dragged the corpse back into a darker section of the basement, depositing the body behind a row of metal shelves stocked with food products and everyday useful items. The family it belonged to might have been preppers—not that it mattered to him. Humanity was marked for extinction, whether they were prepared or not. They just didn’t know it yet.

The sound of the basement door opening at the top of the stairs drew his attention and he quickly moved through the darkness, withdrawing the feeding tendrils and positioning himself underneath the stairs. The basement in the old house was largely unfinished and the stairs were wooden and open. He would be able to easily see the feet of someone descending into the basement.

There was a clicking sound as the person at the top of the stairs flipped the light switch on and off, wondering why nothing was happening. In fact, he had taken care of that almost immediately upon entering the home, drilling into the fixtures with his bony extensions and severing the internal wiring. It was a process that would be harder to discover and would likely keep any additional potential feeding sources occupied long enough for him to immobilize them.

“Mom?” the voice of a young girl called out. “The light’s not working in the basement.”

“Well, Daddy’s down there,” a female voice replied from deeper in the house. “Tell him to check the fuse box.”

“Daddy?” the little girl called down into the darkness.

When there was no answer, her little feet began slowly descending the stairs, and Perry felt the feeding filaments begin to slide out of their finger sheaths.

“Daddy?” she called again, her feet stopping only a couple stairs down.

Perry could see them and, while her location at the top of the stairs wasn’t optimal, he could take her easily enough. He didn’t need to see her. The alien extensions could sense her quite clearly. The filaments slipped through the opening between the stairs and were moving around her ankles when she abruptly turned and stomped back up the stairs.

“Daddy’s not down there!” she hollered at her mom, slamming the door shut and plunging the basement back into complete darkness.

The lack of light, however, was not an issue for him anymore. Withdrawing the filaments back into his body, he moved around to the front of the stairs. He could hear the mother and daughter talking upstairs and knew that if he was going to feed, he would have to do it quickly. They were speaking about the missing father and that could easily escalate into a situation where he would have to leave and seek other sources. His food was here; he might as well make the best of the situation.

Absently licking his lips in anticipation, the body of Jon Sherrard, controlled by the mind of Perry Edwards, began to walk slowly up the stairs.