Mutation (Twenty-Five Percent Book 1) (5 page)

All five of the people lying still on the tiled floor had died from bullet wounds to the head. 

Three had visible bite marks.  They were all members of the public.  The smell of copper was stifling.  Blood swathed the floor with drops and streaks leading to the door through to the rest of the station.  Heart thumping in his chest, Alex headed in that direction.

Although it was unlocked, on first try the door didn’t budge.  Alex pushed against it until it slid reluctantly open, then squeezed through the gap.  A body slumped against it on the other side, a man with brown hair and a slightly rotund midsection.  Officer David Sharpe.  Alex didn’t know him well, but he remembered attending his bachelor party seven months ago.  A huge chunk had been ripped from his shoulder. 

Alex turned away, feeling sick.

Everything was quiet as he continued along the corridor.  There were more bodies, mostly people he didn’t know, a couple that he did.  Belinda the dispatcher was crumpled in a heap in the briefing room doorway, her dishevelled ponytail now matted with blood. 

He stared at her body for a few seconds.  The hand holding his pistol began to tremble.  Gripping the gun tighter, he walked on.

After too much blood and death, he reached the inspector’s office.

“Alex, you made it.” 

Alex jumped at the voice breaking the silence.  Parker was sitting in the chair behind his desk.  Four more bodies, three women and a man, lay on the floor between him and the door.  The inspector’s pistol lay on the desk in front of him, next to a framed picture of his wife.

“Sir, what happened?”

Parker gave a wan smile.  “I made a mistake, that’s what happened.”  He drew a shuddering breath.  “Someone came in with a bite.  I should have put them down straight away.  I didn’t know...”  He winced and for the first time Alex noticed he was holding his left forearm.  Blood stained his shirt sleeve.  “They’re turning fast, far quicker than you could imagine.”

“I know,” Alex said, staring at Parker’s arm, knowing what it meant.  “Cutter and I saw an attack.”

“Is Rodney...?”

“He’s fine, sir.  He went to find his daughters.”

Parker nodded and sighed.  He closed his eyes.  “I don’t have long.  You need to listen to me.”

“Yes, sir.”  Alex tried to keep his voice steady.  He’d known Nathaniel Parker for a long time.  He was a friend.

“There’s no help coming.  They’re sealing off the city to stop the spread.”

“Sealing off?  How?”

“I don’t know details.  I just know there are no phone or internet signals getting in or out.  We’ve been abandoned.  All you can do now is get to any loved ones you have here, find somewhere safe and stay alive.  I got Belinda to tell everyone who’s still out the same thing.  Before...”  He glanced at the bodies on the floor and shook his head.  “If you happen to see my wife,” he paused and looked at the photo in the frame on his desk, a look of pain crossing his features.  “If you happen to see Allie, tell her I love her more than I could ever say.  Don’t tell her how I died.”  He paused and his eyelids began to droop, his head lolling forward for a moment before jerking back up again.  “Go now,” he said, his voice slurring.  “I don’t have much longer.”

Alex felt a tear roll down his cheek.  He wiped at it and nodded.  “I’m proud to have served with you, sir.  Nate.”

Parker nodded and smiled.  “You’re a great cop, Alex.  One of the best.  You’ll make it.”  He waved him away, reaching for the pistol on the desk as Alex turned to leave. 

Alex had gone ten feet along the corridor when the single gunshot echoed through the building. 

All the energy suddenly drained from his body.  Slumping against the wall, Alex closed his eyes and fought the aching despair rising in his chest. 

There had been no warning this morning, no clue as to what was coming.  No hint of the pain and suffering the day would bring.  The morning had started out as it always did.  How long ago was that?  How long since the world began sliding into oblivion?  And Alex still didn’t understand what was going on.  Eaters everywhere, turning within ten minutes of being infected, people being eaten on the streets.  Was this some kind of spontaneous mutation of Meir’s Disease?  Was it even the same virus? 

Was he still immune?  

His eyes snapped open at the distant sound of moaning.  A shudder ran through him.

Eaters.

The rumbling moans became louder as he approached the holding cells and he suddenly remembered all the eaters that were brought to the station when disposal closed.  Hopefully, those he could hear were all locked up.  He drew his pistol again, just in case, and checked the magazine.  Four rounds left.  He thought of going to the armoury first, but he didn’t want to have eaters he didn’t know about roaming around behind him.  Putting his trust in his marksmanship skills and the hope that these new breed of eaters would have no more interest in him than the old ones did, he carried on towards the cells.

The smell hit him as soon as he stepped through the door leading to the cell block.  The scent was undoubtedly eater, but slightly different to what he was used to.  He hoped that didn’t mean bad news for him.  The moaning seemed to come from everywhere, but there were none loose.  He looked through the small Perspex windows of the first couple of cell doors he came to and saw eaters crammed together in the small spaces, jostling against each other.  One saw his face peering through the glass and lunged towards the door.  Others joined it, pressing against each other, crowding to get to him. 

Alex backed away, wondering how strong the doors were. 

“You wouldn’t want me anyway,” he muttered. 
I hope.

Turning away, he grasped the handle of the door leading back out of the block of cells.

“Hey!”

Alex spun around at the sound of the voice, instinctively raising his gun.  A banging sounded from further along the row of cells.  The volume of the eaters’ mindless groans increased at the sound of the shouting and banging.  En masse, bodies slammed against doors not designed to withstand so much pressure. 

“Hey!  Is someone there?”

“Shut up,” Alex hissed.

He made his way slowly along the corridor, passing a few more cells filled with eaters, until he came to a door with a familiar face peering through the tiny window. 

Of all the people he didn’t want to see...  “Micah Clarke.”

Micah stared at him for a moment then threw his hands into the air in exasperation.  “Of
course
it would be you.  The universe hates me.”

“Will you keep your voice down?  The other cells are stuffed with eaters and I don’t know if the doors can hold them.”

“What the hell...” Micah began, his voice even louder.

“
Shhh!
”  The man was an idiot.

Irritation flashed across Micah’s face, but when he spoke again his voice had lowered.  “What the hell is going on?  First I saw eaters being brought in, then about fifteen minutes ago there were gunshots, then silence.”

“Eaters are everywhere.  They’re turning really fast.  It’s chaos out there.”

Disbelief clouded Micah’s features.  “O...kay.  Then just let me out and I’ll get out of here.”

Alex regarded him cautiously.  Was it safe to release the man who only last night was leading an angry mob and attacking him with a steel rod?  Eaters were one thing, but militant anti-Survivor bigots were another.  The ingrate would probably turn around and try to kill him just because he thought he could get away with it.

“Come on,” Micah said, “you can’t just leave me here.  I’m starving to death.  They haven’t fed me since breakfast.”

Alex sighed.  Much as he wanted to, the man was right.  Leaving would probably mean sentencing him to death, or worse, and Alex wasn’t a killer.  Well, not of normals anyway.

He turned and jogged back past the cells towards the guard station.

“Hey!”  Micah shouted.  “Hey, you can’t leave me!”

The thudding against the cell doors became louder.  Alex heard the metal groaning under the pressure.  Grabbing the key to Micah’s cell, he ran back and pushed it into the lock.

“If you try anything, I will snap you in half,” he said, hoping it sounded menacing enough. 

“Oh yeah, you and whose army?” Micah said with a derisive laugh.

Alex stopped turning the key.

“I’m
joking
,” Micah said, “just let me out.”

“I’m going to regret this,” Alex muttered to himself as he unlocked the cell and opened the door.

Micah stepped out, watching Alex warily, and glanced around.  He was still wearing the jeans, beige canvas jacket and white t-shirt he’d had on the night before. 

“Why are the other cells full of eaters?” he said as they made their way back along the row of holding cells.  The moaning became louder again as the eaters strained to reach them, the Perspex of each small, square window fogging with their overheated breath.

“We started bringing them here after the disposal centre couldn’t cope anymore.”

“Couldn’t cope anymore?  How many are there out...”  Micah stopped speaking as they left the cells and stepped into the corridor running through the main part of the station.  He gaped at the bodies scattered across the floor.  “What happened?”

“I wasn’t here,” Alex replied, “but Inspector Parker said someone came in with a bite.”

Micah looked confused, shaking his head.  “A bite, I don’t...”

“Something’s happened to the virus, it’s mutated, it’s a new virus altogether, I don’t know.  But people are turning minutes after they’re infected.  The city has been sealed off, whatever that means, and we are on our own.  It’s chaos now.  That’s all I know.  If you have anyone, find them and hide.”  Alex turned away, heading for the armoury. 

“Hey, um...” 

He stopped and looked back.  “Alex.”

“Yeah.  Uh, thanks.  For letting me out.”

Alex nodded and turned away, hearing footsteps head away from him.  He continued along the corridor.

The armoury was unlocked which was unusual, but not surprising.  The room had been ransacked.  There wasn’t much left inside.  Alex thought it likely that it was his fellow police who had taken the weapons, although he couldn’t be sure of that.  He found one more Glock 17 like the one he carried and slipped it into his belt.  A Heckler & Koch G36 assault rifle had also escaped the purge.  Grabbing a black canvas bag from a shelf, Alex placed the rifle inside, rounded up all the ammunition he could find, which wasn’t much, and also threw in a taser.  He didn’t know if tasers would work on eaters, but in an emergency he would rather have that than nothing.  And it would work on a human.  Law was breaking down.  That was only going to be a bad thing.  He considered two cans of pepper spray on a shelf.  They would probably be useless for an eater as they didn’t respond to pain.  He threw them into the bag anyway then had a last quick look around, in case he’d missed anything. 

Behind him, the door squeaked. 

Alex whirled round, whipping his pistol from its holster and aiming as he turned. 

“Don’t shoot!”  Micah threw his hands into the air, taking a step back.

Alex breathed out.  “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”  He re-holstered the Glock.  “What are you doing here?”

Micah’s eyes darted around the empty weapons racks before settling on the bag in Alex’s hand.  Alex tightened his grip on it.

“You really need to see outside,” Micah said.

“Why?”

“Just come on.”

He sighed in irritation as he followed Micah back through the building towards the main entrance.  He had hoped that he would just leave so he would never have to see him again.  He was already regretting letting the man out of his cell.

They reached the public waiting area and Micah grabbed Alex’s arm, pulling him back against the wall as they approached the glass doors.  Alex jerked out of his grip, but stayed against the wall, not failing to notice as Micah absently wiped the hand he’d touched him with on his jeans.  Then he saw why he was being so careful to stay out of sight of anything outside. 

“Where on earth did they come from?” Alex said.  “There was no-one out there when I got here.”

They peered out at the eaters roaming aimlessly around the car park.  There had to be at least twenty, and that was just in the area they could see. All of them had blood on them somewhere, many around their mouths.

“What are we going to do?” Micah said.  “There’s no way we’ll get past all those.”

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Alex replied.  “I’m a white-eye, remember?  They’re not interested in me.  I can just stroll away while they eat you.” 

Alex had to stop himself from laughing at Micah’s look of horror.  It was a bluff.  He wasn’t anywhere near certain this new breed of eater wouldn’t be just as interested in him as they were in Micah, but he was keeping that piece of information to himself.  What was it about this man that made him want to torture him at every opportunity?  Other than him being a rabid anti-Survivor, that was.