Carrion Virus (Book 2): The Athena Protocol (16 page)

“So what is it that you want of me?”

“Get us to Belmont Street. Help us to get the device and get us back to the airport in once piece.”

“What you’re asking I can’t do. It’s just me on my own, and I don’t have weapons.”

Gemma’s eyes were full of pleading.

“Damn it, Gemma, this isn’t like a stroll in the park. You’re talking about the most dangerous place in the world. You can’t just saunter down the street with your headphones in.”

Her volume increased. “Five minutes down the road. No longer.”

“On a normal day. Not today with the storm and the infected. Not today. I need to bring you back to the airport.”

“I won’t go.”

“Gemma, just think about what you’re asking.”

George left his desk. “If it means I can get out of the city, I’ll take you to the club and get you what I want.”

“No,” said Eric, and pointed back to his seat. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“I promised him that if he helped us get what we needed then we would get him out of the city.”

“You can’t make those types of promises.”

“Well, I did. He’s important.”

“She’s the only one who thinks I’m important.” George returned to his desk.

“Don’t make me go on my own, Eric. Please.”

Eric leaned in closer. “You’re asking me to risk our lives for something that might not even be there anymore. Pass the intel over to the CAF and let them deal with it.”

“No one’s listened to us so far, and every minute we waste might mean it gets lost or broken.” Gemma wanted to grab the story for herself, not leave it to some military or government group, no matter the dangers. “I’ll do it alone.”

“That ID badge you’ve got there won’t protect you anymore. The CAF forces are shooting on sight. You and I are going back to the airport.” Eric turned on his heel and marched out.

“I’m not leaving you here, George. One way or another we’re getting that container.”

“How? You heard him as well as I did.”

She gave him her best look of confidence.

“I thought I was going to die out there, and you’re suggesting we go back out, with no protection, just us?”

When Gemma tried to protest, he shushed her to silence.

“I know, I know. I give you what you want and you make sure I get out of the city.”

“George. I …”

There was nothing to say. She was using him to get what she wanted, what she needed.
Jeez, Gemma. When did you become such a ruthless asshole?

***

Stubborn girl.
Eric knew she would not give up. Gemma and George stood by the doors, behind the sandbag and machine gun placements.

Boots, jeans, a shirt and a leather jacket did not make Eric adequately dressed for venturing out into the city, but they’d have to suffice. He acquired a stun rod and a short range radio from the supplies. Nobody seemed to challenge him. Walking with purpose seemed to open many doors for Eric.

Eric joined the two. Gemma was wrapped in a thick coat and armed with an array of cameras, more digital equipment than one person could possibly need.

“We’re doing this then?”

She turned with a knowing smile. “I knew you wouldn’t let us go alone.”

“I should have thrown you over my shoulder and carried you to the chopper. But, Williamson will want evidence of this lead of yours. We’ve two hours before the chopper lifts off. We need to be on it. There won’t be another.”

Gemma looked him up and down. “You’re going out in that?”

“Your memo didn’t reach me,” he joked. He anticipated nothing more than a quick flight over the city, collecting Gemma and returning.

“Pray we don’t need that,” said Gemma, indicating the stun rod tucked under his arm.

“Let’s get this over with. Stay close to me.”

They stepped out into the winter-clad city.

***

The first part of the journey was uneventful. The only difficult encounter was forging a pass through the snow.
X
was spray-painted in red on the club’s damaged doors.

“That means it’s clear,” shouted Eric above the wind.

Gemma nodded, her scarf over her mouth.

“We still need to be cautious. You both stay here until I say to move.” Eric was cold. Brutally cold.

George nodded, blinking heavily as snowflakes fell on his face.

Eric stepped inside. The walls gave him a brief respite from the extreme cold the wind whipped up outside. Broken glass, hidden by the snow, crunched under his boots. He held the stun rod at the ready. The club was in ruins, everything broken. Dead bodies covered the dancefloor. Some were in black body bags, others were covered with thin white sheets. Arms and legs poked from the sides of makeshift covers. He halted, a sudden thought that the sound of his footfalls would somehow wake the dead.

“My God,” said Gemma.

“You should be outside.”

She ignored him. “Who are these people? There are hundreds of them.”

George paled. “The club,” he stammered. “What has happened?”

A blue flash lit up the building. Eric slapped the camera from Gemma’s hands.

“Hey!” she complained.

“You want to announce to any infected that we’re here?”

The look of annoyance dropped from her face. “Sorry, I should’ve thought.”

“George.” Eric waved him over. “Lead us to the room.”

George paled, pointed to the other end of the building, across the dancefloor and sea of bodies. “It’s over there.”

“I need you to show us. Lead on and I’ll follow. I’ll be right behind you.”

“I can’t. I can’t do it. It’s over there, through the double doors and to the right, in the staff room.”

Eric stepped closer to George. “Each minute we’re out here in the city, cut off from anyone who can help us, puts us at serious risk. You can do this, I’ll be right behind you.”

“Me too,” said Gemma.

“I can’t.”

“You want out of the city?” prompted Eric.

George licked his lips. “Out of the city? Yes.”

“Then you have my word. This one task, and then I’ll get you out.” Eric knew it was a promise he may not be able to keep. “Stay close to me.”

They took their first tentative steps. Behind, snow blew in the door. The bodies did not smell. Perhaps the plan was to use the building as cold storage for the dead until the security situation in the city improved. Or perhaps it was something much worse. A massacre.

Gemma whispered encouragement to George as they picked their way through the press of bodies. Gemma did her best to ignore the squelch as they stepped. George winced with each step. He held a hand over his mouth and nose. His eyes narrowed. He struggled on.

They cleared the dancefloor, George giving over a nervous smile, as if he had successfully negotiated a minefield without being blown to pieces.

“Past here and to the right.” He pointed to a door which Eric assumed lead to the rear section of the building, a place where perhaps a bouncer once stood, preventing wayward patrons finding their way to the staff areas.

Eric turned the handle. The hinges creaked with such volume that all three checked behind them in case it acted as a beacon to the infected. Nothing moved. It was a house of the dead. Eric heaved the door inward, stepped inside, stun rod up. The corridor beyond the door was empty, dingy and smelled of mould. George pointed to the right and to another door, smaller and with a sign,
keep out, staff only
. Eric tried the door. Locked.

“Key?”

“My boss probably has it.”

“And your boss is where?”

George shrugged.

“Gemma, watch for movement.” Eric said impatiently.

Eric passed the stun rod to George and threw his shoulder into the obstacle. The door heaved inward but held on.

“Anything?” he asked of Gemma.

“Nothing.”

The door had rattled on its latch. One more sturdy bash, thought Eric. He stepped back a few steps and again drove his shoulder into the door. It broke inward, shattering the lock. He fell to his knees, but quickly regained his footing, scanning the room for the enemy. The staffroom was empty of bodies. The cramped room sported a garish sofa, duct tape concealing the many rips in the material. A tea-stained table, a few chairs. A TV mounted in the corner. A kitchen area, sink, microwave and small fridge.

Eric beckoned them both in. George returned the stun rod. He needed no urging. He went straight to the kitchen area, opened one of the cupboards and removed a large square box. Someone had written
Lost Property
on the side with a black marker. He laid the box on the ground and rummaged around some before pulling an object free. He passed it to Eric who turned it over in his hands. It looked very similar to a flask, one his dad used when working nightshifts. The stainless steel exterior was flawless, no marks or scuffs, the surface free of abrasions. In the lid sat a clock face. Maybe a small wristwatch was embedded.

“This is your lead?”

“Yes.”

“It could be nothing, Eric,” said George. “But then …”

Eric watched his distorted reflection in the steel for a second. “I don’t think it’s nothing, George. It’s something out of the ordinary. We were right to come after it.” He passed the device to Gemma, who snapped a quick picture of it before securing it in her messenger bag.

“Now, we get back to the CAF and fly the hell out of this city.”

“What about the bodies out there?” asked George.

“I’ll tell Williamson. Aside from that we say nothing. Until you know who you’re speaking with and why they’re asking, play ignorant. Understand? Okay, let’s go.”

***

Gemma quickened her pace and reached Williamson before Eric.

“Ben, we’ve found something you need to see!” She reached into her knapsack.

Williamson looked directly to Eric, his expression neutral, and if Eric guessed correctly, it was a face full of worry.

“Eric, a word.” Williamson did not break his pace, instead marched out the front door tugging at his ill-fitted coat.

Gemma stood with hands on hips. “I don’t believe it.”

“Make sure George’s allocated a room,” instructed Eric. “I’ll catch up with you when we’re done.”

He ventured after Williamson. For a moment, he could not find his boss, but fresh tracks in the snow led him to the far side of the car park, away from anyone, alone in the white. The lights of the airport flickered through the snow. A small fleet of ploughs worked tirelessly to keep the runways clear. The wind died down, bringing a late afternoon calm despite the snowfall.

“Was it really necessary to come out in the snow? I’ve just got back.”

Williamson did not turn to look at Eric. “I’ve spent more days than I care to remember glued to computers and telephones, meals taken at a desk, sleep snatched when I can. Sometimes it’s just pleasant to take some fresh air and remind yourself that the world is still turning.”

“Even when it’s below freezing?”

“Eric, just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, another worry is heaped upon me.”

“What’s happened?”

Williamson said nothing for a time.

“I’ve brought the girl back. She found something in the city she thinks could be linked to the outbreak.”

Williamson turned to Eric, breaking his reflective mood. “I’ll review it soon. But our problems don’t directly concern the events here in Aberdeen. About an hour after you left I received a call from Doctor Eugene Holden.”

“I’ve not seen or heard of him since we pulled him out of here. Where did you send him?”

Williamson blew out a sigh. “I didn’t tell you where I put him because you didn’t need to know. Eric, I find myself in the unfortunate situation where the number of people I trust has shrunk to a handful. You’re one of them. Holden was moved to one of our facilities, a research centre specifically converted to tackle the Carrion Virus. He painted a bleak picture of the work that’s going on there, the conditions they’re working in. He expressed a fear for his safety. He suggested the research there is immoral, even evil.”

“You believe him?”

“The doctor is beyond reproach. A few weeks ago I was made aware of a group called The Owls of Athena. I don’t know who they are, or what they do, but I know they exist.”

“How?”

“You don’t need to know that.”

“Are you sure I’m one of the few people you trust?”

“My apologies. I’m facing the very real situation that I’ve lost elements of my company to these people. I no longer know what’s happening. I remain the majority owner of Black Aquila, but I can’t trust what our branches are doing.”

Williamson was full of emotion. Eric understood. Williamson was the king on the mountain who realised everything in his kingdom was not as it should be.