Mutation (Twenty-Five Percent Book 1) (14 page)

“We spent all yesterday securing the area,” he said.  “We’ve only got a fraction of our people here.  A lot left to find their families or try to get out of town.  Most never made it here in the first place.  With the phone signal down, we’re in the dark.  Some of our people said they heard something was happening on the roads out of town, but no-one knew what.  I sent Wilson and Biggs out on a reccy this morning.  Biggs just got back.  He said they ran into a huge crowd of eaters on Bilton Road.”  He paused, staring down at the desk in front of him.  “Wilson didn’t make it.”

“We’ve been near there,” Micah said, “we know what’s going on.  We just don’t know why.”

“So what’s going on?” Bates said.

Alex spoke before Micah could.  “Do you know any reason why the government would expect an eater outbreak here particularly?  In this town?”

Bates was quiet for a few seconds before answering.  “Why?”

“We saw what looked like a huge metal barrier on Park Street, about a mile from the centre.  The whole road was blocked with empty cars and the area in front of the barrier was crammed with eaters.  Thousands of them.”

“A barrier?” Bates said.

Micah nodded.  “Covered the whole road, at least thirty feet high.  Not something they could have just thrown up quickly.”

Bates sat back and frowned silently for a while.  “We’ve known for a while that there is a secret laboratory here where we think they are doing something with the Meir’s virus, although we’ve never been able to find out what.”

Alex wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.  “I’m sorry, did you say a secret laboratory?”

Bates nodded.

“As in, top secret, need to know government facility run by a crazed scientist and his sidekick cat doing freakish experiments on monkeys?  That kind of secret laboratory?”

Micah frowned.  “Why would a cat be doing freakish experiments on monkeys?”

Bates narrowed his eyes.  “Are you taking this seriously?”

“I’m having a hard time accepting the concept of a secret laboratory,” Alex said.  “It’s a bit James Bond.  And cats hate monkeys.  It’s a well known fact.”

Bates shook his head in disgust.  “Where did you find this clown, Micah?”

“He takes a bit of getting used to.” 

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Bates said, “there is a laboratory.  We haven’t been able to confirm who runs it, but we think it may be Omnav, using government funds.  We also think they may be experimenting with the Meir’s virus there.  Security is tight so we’ve never been able to get anyone in, but it’s there.”

“Omnav?” Alex said.  “I thought they built vehicles for the military.”

“That’s how they started out.  Now they’re into construction, weapons manufacture, logistics...”

“What’s that got to do with Meir’s?”

He shrugged.  “As I said, security is tight.”

“Do you even know this so called secret laboratory is really there?” Alex said.

“You came to me for help,” Bates said, jabbing a finger at him.  “If you don’t believe what I tell you, that’s your problem.  Bloody white-eye.”

Micah interrupted before Alex could reply, which was just as well because what he was about to say would probably have got him shot.

“We think the barrier we saw was where they had all that construction a few years ago, renewing all the major junctions running out of town.  It could have been a cover for installing them, if there are more than the one we saw that is.”

Bates’ eyes widened.  “That construction was contracted out to Omstruc, the construction arm of Omnav.”  He slammed his fist down on the desk in front of him, making Alex jump.  “
Damn it.
  We should have seen the connection back then.”

He stood and began pacing back and forth in the small space.  Alex watched him warily, feeling like he’d strayed onto the set of a bad political thriller.  Secret laboratories and evil corporations?  Bates and his flunkies were obviously subject to paranoid delusions. 

Except, he had seen the giant metal barrier.  And something started this outbreak.  It didn’t make sense that the virus could simply spontaneously mutate by itself without anyone noticing.  If it had, it would have happened in one of the developing nations where the virus was still rampant and he would have heard something about it.  

But a secret laboratory?  He’d believe it when he saw it.

“What are you going to do?” Micah said.

“We’re down on manpower,” Bates said, “and after losing Wilson, I can’t risk anyone else.  We’re bringing our families in and holing up here.  You can stay if you want.”  He looked at Alex.  “Not him though.”

“I wasn’t planning on hanging around,” Alex said.  “Even though the welcome has been lovely.”

Bates stared at him like he was a pimple on a first date.

“If you tell me where this secret lab is and fix me up with some weapons,” Micah said, “I’ll go and check it out.  With all this chaos, it has to be easier to get in there now.”

Bates shook his head.  “I can’t ask you to do that.  It’s too dangerous out there.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering.  You know I don’t have any family here.  I need to do something.”

Bates sighed.  “Alright.  But you be careful.”  He scribbled down an address on a piece of paper and gave it to Micah.  “Fran’s in the armoury.  Tell her I said to give you whatever you want.  Within reason.”

Bates stood, Micah following suit, and they shook hands, Bates pulling Micah in for a slap on the back. 

Then Alex and Micah were heading back down the stairs.

“Was that a secret handshake?” Alex said.

“Shut up.”

When they stepped outside again, Creedon was where they’d left her, watching the gate.  As soon as she saw Alex, she raised the rifle.

“Relax, Creedon,” Micah said.  “We’re going down to the armoury.”

“For more ammo to shoot that with, I hope,” she said, gesturing at Alex with her rifle.

“Please stop flirting with me,” Alex said, “you’re just embarrassing yourself.”

She gave him a look that said she either wanted to jump him, or rip his throat out.  Probably the latter.

They walked along a path across the lawn to a six foot square brick shed at the end of the garden.  As Alex was thinking it couldn’t be much of an armoury, they stepped inside and Micah pressed a button on the wall.  The floor unfolded in front of them to reveal a spiral staircase.  Tiny lights flickered on to illuminate the way down.  It was impressive.

“Does the driveway open up for a Harrier jump jet to launch from too?” Alex said as they descended the stairs.

“No.  The council wouldn’t give planning permission,” Micah said with a smile.  “This was already here when Bates bought the place.  The previous owner had a thing for wine and had a secret wine cellar built underground.  Now it’s a secret weapons stash.”

They reached a short corridor which took a u-turn and ran back to a door.  Alex judged they must have been beneath the main house.

Micah knocked on the door.

“What?” a woman’s voice called.

“Open up, Fran, it’s me.”

A few seconds later, Alex heard bolts being thrown and the door opened.  An older woman wearing a floral red dress and an apron smiled.

“Micah,” she said, giving him a hug.  “Haven’t seen you around in a while.  And who’s your friend?”  She turned to Alex and her smile vanished, replaced with a scowl.  “What’s a white-eye doing here?”

Alex rolled his eyes.

“Bates sent me down here to get a few things,” Micah said, ignoring her comment.

She stepped aside to let them in, still frowning at Alex.  He tried to ignore her, which became a lot easier when he got a good look inside the room.  Every conceivable weapon, from hunting knives to knuckle dusters, lined the room.  Alex wandered over to a small, but significant cache of guns.

“Where did you get these?” he said.  “These aren’t even legal to own here.”

“Got any skull-spikers around?” Micah said.

“We have,” Fran said, pulling a small bag from a shelf.

She unzipped it and sent the contents clattering onto a large table sitting in the centre of the room.  Alex’s jaw dropped.  At least twenty narrow black cylinders, each around five inches long, lay scattered on the beech effect melamine surface.  Micah stepped forward and picked one up.  He flipped open a small panel on the end and pressed a button beneath.  With a soft click, a blade almost the length of the handle sprang from the end, its thin, smooth metal surface glinting in the light from the halogen bulbs overhead.  Micah ran his fingers up the blade, stopping short of touching the tip.

“But... but those were all destroyed ten years ago,” Alex murmured, more to himself than because he expected a reply.  He picked one up and extended the blade, studying it in fascination.  Up to now, he’d only ever seen them in photos.

Originally designed during the initial Meir’s outbreak to pierce the skull with minimum blood spatter, skull piercing stiletto knives were perfect for stopping eaters without having to worry about running out of ammunition.  Providing you could get close enough without getting bitten. 

They were originally only carried by the armed forces and police, but two years after the disease appeared, when new infections were no longer such a problem and eaters running loose were practically unheard of, their use was outlawed. 

Unpleasant weapons, they were extremely sharp at the tip, but had no cutting edge so that minimal force was needed to pierce the hard bones of the skull.  Their sole purpose was to kill and they were never available to the general public.  After a handful of murders were committed with the weapons, however, the decision was made to ban and destroy them.  They were still in use elsewhere in the world, but in many countries, including the United Kingdom, they no longer existed.  Officially.

“We intercepted a shipment on its way to be melted down,” Fran said, smirking.  “Thought they’d come in useful one day.”

On its way to be melted down.
  “How long have you been doing this?” Alex said.

Fran shrugged and didn’t say anything. 

Alex pressed the button in the end of the handle again and the blade disappeared back into its recess.

Micah was rummaging in the bag that had contained the skull-spikers.  He pulled out a couple of long black gloves and slid his right hand into one, pulling it up to his elbow.  The material was shiny and looked to Alex a little like an evening glove, with the addition of rubber grips on the palm and fingers.  Alex knew what they were.  The protective gloves were widely used in the police force for eater grabs, although he himself had no need of them now.  They insulated the wearer against infection by eater blood, the material infused with a powerful anti-viral agent that killed the Meir’s virus on contact.  Alex didn’t know exactly how it worked, but he knew it did.  They had protected him several times, up until he was bitten on the leg.

Micah was examining the glove on his hand.

“Now all we have to do is find you a nice evening gown and you’re set,” Alex said.

Micah pulled the glove off and stuffed it and its partner into a pocket.  “I’m laughing on the inside.”

. . .

“Interesting friends you’ve got there,” Alex said when they were out on the street again.

“I wouldn’t call them friends, exactly,” Micah replied.

“How long have they been going?”

“Since Meir’s first appeared.  From what I’ve been told, the first group was formed by people who thought the government wasn’t doing enough to be ready for a full blown outbreak.”

“So when did it become anti-Survivor central?  When the first patient was cured?”

“I don’t think so.  From what I’ve heard, when Bates took over he began to turn them to his own world view.  Then that attracted more anti-Survivors.”

“Is that why you joined?”

Micah didn’t answer for a few seconds.  “Not exactly.”

Alex wanted to ask him for details, but the way he said it suggested he wasn’t in the mood to talk.  “And now?”

“I haven’t been a full on member of the organisation for a few years.  Some of their methods bothered me.”

“But you still led a mob into East Town.”

Micah didn’t look at him.  “Just because I don’t agree with some of the things they do, doesn’t mean I don’t still feel the same.”

“So you came to hurt us.”

“No.  I could have taken two or three times as many men with me.  There are always more volunteers than I can bring.”

“Always?  How many times have you done it?”

“A few.”

“A few?”

“A lot, okay?”

“Ha!” Alex exclaimed, pointing at him.  “I knew I’d seen you before.”

“But I never did it to harm you, I did it to...”  He paused and walked faster, as if trying to get away.

Alex kept pace.  “You did it to what?”

“Those people are stupid.  They think they can just do anything to Survivors and get away with it.  I had to show them what you really are.  I knew you’d be able to deal with them easily.  They needed to see how dangerous white... Survivors are.”