Dominion of the Damned (34 page)

And then he saw it.

“
No,” he said, shaking his head as he went over the math. “That can’t be it. It can’t be that simple, and my life can’t be that easy.” But after more than an hour of painstakingly reviewing the formula and accounting for all of the variables, he could find no reason why it shouldn’t work.

He got to work assembling the components and meticulously combining and processing them. When he finished, he held up a vial of what could very well be the catalyst for the restoration of human society.

He loaded five CCs into a syringe before pulling on a pair of protective gloves and retrieving one of the rats. She sleepily rubbed her eyes and wiped her whiskers as he transferred her to the isolation cage, where he injected her with the potential vaccine. Then he sat back to watch and take notes. Five minutes passed with no ill effects. Then ten. Twenty. At the half-hour mark, when the rat still seemed normal, he decided to move on to the next stage of testing. Ideally, he would keep her under observation for twenty-four hours before introducing the virus, but there wasn’t time. Besides, he was more confident than ever that he actually had the vaccine this time.

But he couldn’t be positive until he tested it against the virus, and before he could do that, he needed to retrieve a fresh sample. After his close encounter with Bob 1.0, Zach had taken to keeping a pistol handy for whenever he needed to get samples from their pet shambler. He retrieved the gun and made sure it was loaded.

This Bob was trussed up in his cell like Hannibal Lecter. A saliva sample would have been sufficient for Zach’s needs, but that would have required going near the shambler’s mouth, something Zach had learned never to do. He reluctantly tucked the pistol under his arm to free both his hands while he used a syringe to obtain a fluid sample. Bob moaned and thrashed against his restraints, but thankfully, he stayed restrained. Zach hurried out of the shambler’s cell, securing it behind him before taking the syringe back to the lab.

He went to the isolation cage and reached in for the rat. “Sorry about this, girl,” he told her as he injected her with the infected syringe, “but if I’m right, you’ll be just fine.” He stroked her behind the ears and set her back on the floor of the cage. Only when she sunk her teeth into his finger did he realize he’d forgotten to put on his protective gloves.

Zach jerked his hand out of the cage and slammed it shut. Then he just stood there, staring at the bite as blood welled up from it, unable to believe his own stupidity.

Then it hit him. “Oh, shit.”

There was no plumbing downstairs, so he rushed upstairs to the bathroom sink to flush and clean the wound. Downstairs, he hadn’t even been aware of the storm, but up here he could hear the wind howling, and the building creaked and moaned under the beating it was taking from the weather. Zach cleaned the bite as well as he could, then hurried back downstairs. In the lab, a sinking feeling filled him as he approached the isolation cage.

The rat lay curled up on its side, clearly dead.

“
Oh, God.” He knew he only had one chance. He ran to the work table, grabbed the vial that held the vaccine and used it to fill a sterile syringe. He rolled up his sleeve and pressed the needle to the skin over his vein, not bothering to swab it first. But he paused before injecting himself. Did the virus kill the rat, or did the vaccine? Either way, the vaccine clearly hadn’t worked. Even if it did, it was too late for it to do Zach any good. He already felt sick, his limbs growing stiff and weak. He put down the syringe, and went to check on the rat.

Already it had begun to twitch, its body re-animating before his eyes. Before it could regain full movement, Zach reached into the cage and snapped its neck.

Then he went back to the work table, and began going over his notes yet again. He estimated he had at least half an hour to figure out where he had gone wrong and to leave a message for the doc. He set his gun on the table, and set a timer, and then got busy making the most out of the last half hour of his life.

***

“
Zach!” Alek called as he burst into the old jail house.

“
Down here!” a voice called, faintly, from the stairwell. Alek followed it down to the basement, to the maximum security cells underground. He found the cell where Zach had set up their makeshift lab. And he found Zach slumped over a table, furiously scribbling notes.

“
I screwed up, Doc,” he said. “I’m really sorry.”

“
It doesn’t matter,” said Alek. “A tornado’s coming. We need to stay put down here until it’s over.”

“
It is over,” said Zach. He put down his pen and turned to look at Alek.

“
What are you talking abo—” Alek stopped, and stared. Zach’s face looked pale, and slightly green. His eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles forming under them. He looked like death. “What happened?”

“
I thought I had it. I think we’re close. But damn it, I was so
sure
I had it.”

“
Zachary, what did you do?”

“
I knew we were out of time, with the Council coming. So I was testing it.”

Alek couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You… you let Bob bite you?” He looked Zach up and down, but didn’t see any tell-tale bite marks.

Zach giggled, a little maniacally, and held up his finger. “Number Three bit me, after I introduced the virus. I forgot to put my gloves on before handling her. Stupid, I know.” That giggle again. It made Alek shudder. “I guess I sure learned my lesson about proper lab safety procedures.”

“
Zachary…” Whatever he was going to say died on his tongue. What was there to say? Tears stung Alek’s eyes. He’d already lost too many friends. He couldn’t lose this one, too. “No,” he said. “No, we can still fix this.” There was one thing he had always wondered about, but had never had the opportunity to try it. It was a long shot, but it was the only chance Zach had. “I think I can save you,” he said.

“
What do you mean?”

Alek crossed the room to Zach. “Let me turn you.”

Zach stared at him a moment. “Into a
vampire
?” He gave a disbelieving laugh. “Do you really think that’ll work?”

“
I don’t know. But it’s worth a try, don’t you think?”

Zach thought about it for about two seconds before saying, “I don’t want to die.”

“
Then hold still,” said Alek, as his fangs extended. “This will only hurt for a moment.”

FORTY-FOUR

The shelter vibrated as a loud bang sounded in the distance. “What is that?” asked Paula. “Another tornado?”

“
I don’t think so,” said Chris. “That sounded like an explosion.”

“
What in the world?”

“
There’s no telling,” said Captain Burrel. “If the tornado went through the camp, it probably turned over vehicles, left gas pipes broken and exposed… lightning could have struck a fuel leak, or a transformer…”

“
Or Hannah could have blown something up,” said Chris. “Or something could have blown
her
up.”

“
Hush, son,” said Paula. “Don’t talk that way.”

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have let her take off alone.”

“
That girl knows how to take care of herself. We need you here more than she does.”

“
What for? To sit in this box and wait to be rescued?”

“
You’ve already had enough of an opportunity to prove you can be a hero,” his mother scolded him. “You just sit tight. The doc’ll come get us sooner or later.”

“
Unless
he
got blown up.”

“
Christopher, you
shush
!”

At the back of the shelter, a little girl began to fidget in her mother’s arms. “Mommy, I have to potty.”

“
I know, sweetie. So do I. We just have to hold it right now.”

Chris stood up. “What if they’re not coming back? We can’t just sit here all night.” Frustrated, he slammed the palm of his hand on the shelter wall. “I shouldn’t have listened to Hannah. I should have moved us all when we still had a chance."

In his mom’s arms, the baby fidgeted and started to fuss. “Christopher, you’re starting to upset everyone. Sit
down
!”

“
No, he’s right,” said Captain Burrell. “We can’t stay in here indefinitely, and we can’t even know for sure if Dr. Konstantin is able to come back for us. And the High Council’s troops are still coming. If we stay here we’ll be sitting ducks. We still have to do all that we can to get ready for them.”

“
Then what do you suggest?” asked the young mother at the back. “You want us to take our kids out there with those
things
?”

Other voices joined hers in dissent. The captain raised his hands in a placating gesture. “They’re drawn to sound. Right now they’re probably all headed toward the source of the explosion. That gives us a window.”

Yes
, thought Chris,
finally someone is talking sense
. “I’m in,” he said, dropping into a crouch next to the captain. “What’s the plan?”

The captain looked from him to the other expectant faces staring at him with rapt attention. “Do we know where Ned is?”

“
Yeah, he’s in the next shelter over.”

“
Okay. Everyone with a weapon who’s willing and doesn’t have a child to care for, we go get Ned, and get him to the tank. I can also drive a tank, if we can find another one that’s operational. Then we use those to ferry everyone to the old fort.”

“
And just how long are the rest of us supposed to sit and wait for
you
to come back?” asked Paula.

“
If we run into trouble,” said Chris, “we’ll break and everyone will head back here. Enough of us are going that
somebody
should be able to make it back here.”

“
You’re not going,” said Paula. “Don’t even think about it.”

“
Mom, I have to.”

“
Why?”

He sighed, exasperated, and looked around at the other men and women standing up and checking their weapons. “Because I’m not a kid. Look, I know how I let Dad down by not joining the Army—”

“
You don’t have anything to prove to your father. And he was
proud
of you. Don’t you ever think otherwise.”

“
I know that, okay? I do. But I’ve got enough of him in me that I can’t just sit here while other people risk their lives for us.” He stood up. “I’m going.”

His mother’s lips trembled as she fought back tears. As if sensing her distress, Noah began to cry. “You be careful,” she told him, then looked at Captain Burrell. “You watch my boy’s back.”

He nodded. “Ma’am, your husband was my drill instructor. He made me who I am today. Don’t worry. I’ll watch him like he’s my own boy.” He turned and put his hand on the latch. “Ready?”

Chris looked down at his mom, who was hugging the baby tight. “It’s okay, Mom. I’ll be fine.”

Captain Burrel had been right. The coast was relatively clear, thanks to most of the shamblers heading toward the explosion. The fire lit up the night sky, bouncing off of what was left of the clouds to help light their way. In single file, the volunteers left their shelter and snuck to the one next door. Captain Burrel tapped out “shave and a haircut” on the door. A moment later, it opened, and Tim peeked out at them. The captain relayed their plan, and they were quickly joined by Tim, Ned and a couple of other volunteers.

The brief window of time that the explosion had given them was already starting to close. They heard moaning coming from the opposite direction, more shamblers who had apparently found their way through the breach in the fence. As silently as they could, the group made their way across the base toward where Ned’s tank had been parked.

Their route took them by the farm. As they drew closer to it they heard the sounds of animals in distress. Chris found himself wishing he could have gone his entire life without knowing the sound of a cow screaming in fear and pain. It was mingled with the sounds of squawking chickens, and more moaning.

“
Shelby!” Ned cried, and tried to break for the farm. The others grabbed him and held him back. “Those sons of bitches got Shelby! There might still be a chance for her calf!”

“
Quiet!” the captain ordered. “It’s too late for Shelby
and
her calf. If you don’t quit carrying on you’re going to bring those things down on
us
instead of the animals.”

Ned looked like he wanted to argue, visibly grieved for the animals that had been in his care. But he must have known that the captain was right. Silently, he nodded, and they pressed on. They skirted around the edge of the farm, picking their way as silently as possible, trying to ignore the carnage as they avoided drawing the attention of the dozen or so shamblers who had piled on the poor cow and her calf. They were almost in the clear when one of the volunteers, a guy named Johnny, muttered, “I can’t hold it anymore.” He broke from their loose formation and ran to the edge of the street.