Contaminated: A Zombie Survival Novel (3 page)

An hour into the flight, Frank pulled out a bottle of rum and passed it around to the others. Three of the four took healthy swigs, but one declined. Frank pushed the bottle at him.

“Come on, it’s how we celebrate a job well done.”

The man said no once again. Frank mentally sighed. Why was there always one health nut on a hit squad? With a smile, Frank put the bottle away and waited. A few minutes later, the others let out jaw cracking yawns. Time was up. Frank pulled a serrated blade from a sheath on his hip and drove it into the chest of the goody two shoes.

The man clawed at Frank’s hands and twitched underneath him with wide eyes. Pink froth bubbled out of his mouth and Frank eased the knife out.

“Martin, it’s time,” Frank called out to the pilot.

Martin secured himself and waited as Frank tied a belt around his waist and then clipped it to a metal loop above the door. Then he pulled a lever and opened the entry. He rolled each body out and watched as they plummeted to their death.

As the door closed, he let a genuine smile cross his face. His time was almost up and then he would get his posting in Weapons Development. The only thing left on his list of things to do was shove Dr. Covington into his lab.

He unclipped the safety belt and sat in the co-pilots seat with a sigh.

Chapter 3 –

Arthur sat in his apartment letting fear and dread seep into his bones. Any minute, the well-manicured man with the nice suit would knock on his door and demand to know why there were no samples to work with. What could Arthur say? They were all contaminated with something unknown? Sunset Inc. would not buy it and they certainly would not appreciate the fact they’d spent God knows how much money on a lab for him, which was now utterly useless.

He reached a shaky hand out and grabbed the bottle of whiskey he bought at the corner store when he arrived back in the city. New York always overwhelmed him, but today it seemed more ominous. Strangers turned into potential assassins. Panhandlers followed him with the intention of slitting his throat. Neighbors had been bought off to throw him off the roof, a suicide note attached to his rumpled lapel.

The top of the bottle popped off in his hands and he drank like a man who’d been stranded in the Sahara for a month. The burning sensation helped with the image he created in his mind. Not caring what the neighbors thought of him anymore, he let out a scream.

For the last ten years, he’d made the Pluto Endeavor his life. He’d endured laughter, lack of faith or support from friends and family, and the break-up of his marriage. No matter how bad things got, he’d convinced himself the information gathered by his probe would change the world. He would change everything.

Now he would be the laughingstock of the science community again. More of the amber liquid filled his gut and he swayed as he stood. Someone was at the door, probably an angry neighbor. He put the half-empty bottle on the chipped imitation wood coffee table and tried to tuck in his shirt as he made his way to answer the incessant banging.

He slicked his hair back with his left hand and opened the door with his right. The litany of curse words he planned to unleash died with a croak. The man with the nice suit smiled back at him. The large man with hands the size of basketballs didn’t.

“Uh, Mr.--” Arthur couldn’t recall what the man’s name was, but then remembered that he never told him.

“Dr. Covington, your lab is ready when you are, and by that I mean go pack your bags now.”

Arthur attempted a smile but failed. He moved aside to let the men in and thought about how he could escape. Obviously, they thought he was back, because he acquired the samples.

Damn! What was he going to do now?

“Have a seat, it won’t take me long. I’ll be right out, just stay in here.” He wondered if his words sounded as slurred to them as they did to him.

The moment he entered the bedroom, he checked the window. Fifth floor and the fire escape were busted. Jumping was an option. In fact, it was his only one. He took a deep breath and unlatched the window, cringing at the creaking sound it made.

A glance toward the door confirmed he was still alone. Arthur placed both hands on the top part of the window and pushed with all his strength, which wasn’t a whole lot. Nothing happened. He tried once more with the same result.

Perhaps he could break the window and make the leap before they had a chance to catch him. But then what? He’d injure himself for sure, and as he hobbled to freedom, they would fill his back with bullets.

“Dr. Covington, is there a problem?” the man in the nice suit asked.

“Well, yes, er I mean no. It’s just that I wasn’t able to get the samples.”

“Calm down, Doctor. It’s not like we kill people for something like that, and besides, we took care of it.”

Arthur peered up from the floor, which held his attention since the man spoke to him. “How is that? I was there and they told me they were contaminated with something and couldn’t be released.”

“I went there and had a nice discussion with them, pointing out that we would take every possible precaution.” The man smiled, but Arthur didn’t find it reassuring.

“But what about--”

“Remember what I said about asking questions?”

“Of course, let me get my things.”

The man left and Arthur picked out a few items of clothing, a faded family photograph from happier times, and his e-reader. He’d have lots of time to kill waiting for test results to come in. He patted down his side pocket and threw in his extra set of glasses as he walked out.

The men led him out of the apartment and Arthur didn’t bother to look back. He didn’t need to see the letter with the unused gift certificate or money on the counter, or the bike sitting in the corner of the living room. His family wrote him off. There was nothing for him there.

His future beckoned him.

***

Frank rubbed his hands together as he counted down the hours. Tomorrow at this time, he would be helping to design and test the ultimate weapons of destruction. No more babysitting the pathetic excuse of a human being next to him.

How the man managed to get up in the morning and not kill himself was a miracle in and of itself. The background check showed nothing existed in his life other than the probe. His file indicated he was a loner, prone to bouts of rage, a workaholic, and a genius.

The doctor could not match his socks, his hair lay in tangled mess of grey and blond on top of his head, and showering seemed optional. Over the last two years, he’d read every single report posted, and listened in on every conversation to make sure he didn’t tell anyone about their agreement.

To Frank’s surprise, the twerp had kept his mouth shut, and Frank knew far more about space, planetary phenomenon, and various hypotheses about what could be mined from them, than he ever wanted to.

Closing his eyes for a nap, the nasally voice of Arthur interrupted him.

“I’m sorry; I never got your name…”

Frank opened an eye and rolled it toward the doctor. “I never gave it to you.”

Arthur persisted. “It’s just that I want to thank you and your bosses for what you’ve done for me. I…this…there are no words for how grateful I am.”

“Just say thank-you and sit back. Where we’re taking you is a long way down and you’ll be there for quite some time.”

“What do you mean ‘a long way down’?”

Frank turned his head when he responded this time. “Remember what I told you about questions when we first met?”

Arthur nodded.

“Good, now go to sleep.”

The jolt of the plane hitting the ground roused Frank from his slumber. He pushed the drooling head of Arthur off his shoulder with undisguised disgust.

“We’re here, Dr. Covington.”

***

Arthur cracked open his eyes. Sleep crusted over them causing him to have to pick apart his eyelashes. The look “the man” as Arthur now referred to him, did not go unnoticed.

“Grab your bag. We need to get in the helicopter for the last part of the journey.”

Arthur did as told. Something about this guy scared him, and he had no doubt if he stepped out of line in any way, he’d disappear.

The helicopter engine started as soon as the door to the private jet eased its way down. The Sunset Inc. logo was on the side and a thrill of excitement ran up Arthur’s spine. His dream was a short flight away. He ran to the helicopter and if not for the quick hands of his escort, the whirling of the back blades would have severed his arm clean off.

“Careful, Dr. Covington, we don’t want to lose you yet.”

Arthur smiled at the comment even though the seriousness of the tone made his blood run cold. The sooner this man was away from his work the better.

Fifteen minutes later, they flew over a small mountain range of some sort and below them stood a plain looking house. The barbed wire fence lining several acres with several spot lights the only indicators something else might lay beyond the walls other than your average home.

Once on the ground Arthur held his tote close as they made their way to the entrance. The inside of the house appeared normal from all appearances. The décor, the smell of dinner cooking, and even the presence of a family all made him wonder what the hell was going on. Was this the ultimate joke they were playing on him? Did they expect him to work in the shed?

The man grabbed his elbow and led him to the garage where a shiny mini-van was parked. On the back wall a large cabinet stood. Next to it, several items for playing sports, a few tools, a brand new lawn mower, and topping it off, the family dog came up to him and growled.

Arthur put his hand out and spoke in a soothing manner, but the dog just snarled louder. Saliva dripped from its jowls and the fur on the back of its neck stood on end.

“Down,” the man said.

The dog stopped terrifying Arthur and waited for the next order. “Return.”

Arthur watched the dog run off toward the door, presumably to the back yard.

“What the hell was that? You said this was going to be a first rate operation. How do you expect me to work with a demon dog and a family in the house?” Arthur demanded.

The man didn’t respond. For an answer, he opened the cabinet and pulled down a section holding some screw drivers. A retinal scanner along with a DNA verifier was revealed.

The man lowered his eye and spoke, “Monroe, identification Fire Zebra Nine.”

Arthur watched as a thin red light scanned the retina of the man as he placed his thumb on a small pad. A second later, he pulled it away and sucked the small drop of blood from the needle puncture.

“Identification accepted, scan in new arrival.”

The man grabbed Arthur’s hand and jammed the thumb on the pad. Then he grabbed his neck and forced him to look into the scanner. “Don’t blink,” he ordered.

Arthur raised his bleeding digit then thought better of it. He waited a few moments, then several more.

“Information processed, identification is Alpha Tango One,”
a disembodied voice echoed over a speaker.

“Remember that code, Doc, it’s your identity down here in case of emergency.”

The panel slid down and a loud grinding noise scared Arthur until he realized the back of the cabinet was moving to the side. A full thirty seconds later, a large elevator opened. Two guards armed with sheathed knives, body armor, and M4’s greeted them. The man pushed Arthur inside and he got the distinct feeling the guy was in a rush to get this over.

The panel inside was operated by another retinal scanner as well as something else Arthur couldn’t figure out. The man pulled out a metallic object and inserted it. A keypad slid out and he tapped in a number.

As the doors shut, Arthur knew his life would never be the same, and for that, he was happy.

“Okay, Doc, here’s the deal. You’re inside a retrofitted missile silo. There are fifteen floors, here’s the map.”  The man handed him a laminated piece of paper. “You only have access to a few, they’re marked in green.”

“Why only a few? I might need to go to other floors for something.”

“No questions, do as you’re told and things will work out fine.”

A few seconds later, the bulky doors revealed an open room of some sort. A large semi-circle desk with two men sitting behind it also armed to the teeth. The floor was carpeted and couches lined the back wall.

“This is the reception area. All people who enter the silo must come through here and pass a full body scan and security check. So, don’t worry about anyone invading and stealing your work.”

Arthur thought about the firepower he saw on the guards and wondered who the hell would be able to get past that. Then he wondered why he should be worried about that happening.

“Do you think that’s a concern? I mean this research is all on the up and up with government sharing, they released the samples, right?”

“Stop asking questions and listen. This won’t take much longer and then you’ll be out of my hair.”

Arthur swallowed. The time for niceties was gone. They crossed the large room, at least 100 feet by 120 feet. They stopped in front of a set of simple steel doors and with a similar panel as the garage cabinet.

The man lowered his head so his retina could be scanned and placed his thumb onto the pad.

Arthur didn’t hear it open, but the next thing he knew he was being pushed forward once again. Almost a minute passed, and then a slight bounce. A whoosh noise and he faced with a well-lit hallway.

“This is Level 6. I’m going to show you to your room.” The man walked into a small room with pastel colored paintings on the wall and a sitting area with a small blue rug.

All things to distract people from the lack of windows, and antiseptic feel of the place. The floor reminded him of his dorm in college. Doors on either side with numbers and names etched on them. About mid-way through, they reached his.

“Open it,” said the man.

Arthur turned the knob, but nothing happened. Next to him, the sigh of annoyance reminded him about security. He touched the wall on the side and the display panel opened. He placed his thumb in the slot and lowered his eye.