Read Omega Pathogen: Despair Online
Authors: J. G. Hicks Jr,Scarlett Algee
“I think that’s one of the dead ones,” George whispered.
“You think, George?” Jeremy asked sarcastically.
It was contained. No need to shoot and call attention to themselves. Jim disregarded the foul-smelling infected thing in the elevator. They moved on to the pharmacy that was just around the corner. The pharmacy was cleared without incident, and Jim and George began filling duffle bags full of medications.
Jeremy and Chris stood sentry just outside the pharmacy entrance. They each faced down one of the two halls.
Jeremy, Jim, and George heard two gunshots in quick secession, followed by three more. Suppressed shots, but still loud enough to startle them. Jim turned as he and George started to make their way out of pharmacy. They heard, “Contacts down. Clear,” radioed by Chris. “Clear,” Jeremy echoed over the radio. “We’re coming out,” Jim quietly notified Chris and Jeremy.
The barn was best place they had for constructing the concrete walls using the molds Arzu had designed. It offered a roof to prevent interference from rain while they poured the concrete and while it cured. They first had to rearrange and remove items stored inside to make enough room.
Of the five trucks at the local concrete business, they had found one that didn’t have a load of concrete hardened inside the mixer drum. Kathy had again gone out with the scavenging team that morning. Their first task was to take the concrete truck back to the concrete plant, mix a batch of concrete according to Arzu’s specifications, and bring it back. Now, with a fully loaded mixer truck, they could make several of the concrete wall sections.
Retrieval of the concrete had taken longer than expected that morning. Since there was no power to the concrete supply company, Kathy and Brent explained that they not only had load the mixer by using a front-end loader, but they had several of the infected to contend with. Kathy and Brent hadn’t added water to the mixture; there hadn’t been a working source. Kathy and Brent wasted little time; they quickly checked over the pickups they were using for their next excursion so they could be on their way.
Royce operated the front-end loader with backhoe. He took a couple of scoops of dirt about every ten feet. The width of the holes he made were much wider than they needed them, but it was quickest way they had available.
Royce was followed by a large flatbed and two pickup trucks. The flatbed had been loaded with fence posts. Royce would scoop out the dirt; the flatbed followed behind and a couple of their group placed a post in the holes.
The next pickup would follow and a crew would get out, pour ready-mix concrete and water around the post, and shovel the dirt back in while they kept the post as close to straight as they could. Residents providing security for the project occupied the third pickup.
The noise of the heavy equipment brought out more of the slow moving infected than normal. They had to take the risk. With a high chain link fence and the T-walls placed in the areas to block the view of movement that attracted the infected, the residence hoped to improve their security and expand the land that they had lost and desperately needed.
With the plywood, sheet metal, tarpaulin and other materials the scavenging teams had been collecting, they hoped to be able to block off most, if not all, view of the farm from outside the perimeter. Brent Cutler had been gathering cameras from abandoned buildings and cables wherever he could. He planned on setting up a video monitoring system to help with security.
Kathy, Brent, and Steve went back out and were focused on collecting more chain link fence and fence posts. With the home improvement stores depleted nearby, the teams had been gathering material from the larger town of Gainesville. Most of the places didn’t have the type and quantity of fence in stock that was needed to fence the entire twenty acres. Arzu had estimated they needed at least seventy-five fifty-foot rolls of chain link fencing.
Arzu and Linda began the work of mixing the first batch of concrete. Without electricity, a generator supplied power to the pump for the farm’s well. Arzu constantly checked the consistency of the mixture and, finally satisfied, they poured the first mold. Pleased with the first attempt, they poured the second.
To discourage the concrete from adhering to the mold, and possibly causing the mold to have to be broken once the concrete set, Arzu had lined the molds with Visqueen and wiped that down with baby oil. Once the two molds were poured, Arzu and Linda turned their attention to constructing more molds for the walls. Learning from the first two, the next ones would be quicker to build.
Berk and Kayra were happy to finally have the other children to play with again. The five children had completed their quarantine and were thrilled to be able to get out and have contact with others. Every adult had felt terrible about confining the children as they had. But no one could think of a better choice. If one had been infected, more could have fallen victim. It was a necessary evil, one of many that would be more commonplace.
Kathy and Brent were joined by Brent’s brother Steve for their next mission of collecting fencing material. Their latest search would be at a Home Depot on the southwest side of Gainesville. The group had been traveling this and other routes to Gainesville for a few weeks. Except for the increased numbers of infected walking during daylight near or on the roads, the route seemed to have no other activity.
Kathy, Brent, and Steve drove behind the store. They knew the items they were after were normally stored towards the back of the building. Brent and Steve stood watch while Kathy used an acetylene torch to cut through the large bay door. This was a nerve-wracking ordeal for the one cutting the hole, so they developed a procedure; a couple small holes were made and then Cyalume light sticks were dropped in. One person then kept an eye on the inside for infected while a larger hole was made or the lock was cut. No one wanted to push up the door and have infected attack.
“Get ready,” Kathy said as the lines she cut with the torch were almost joined. Once assured Brent and Steve were ready, she finished the cut into the door. Kathy backed away, shut off the acetylene and put the torch on the loading dock. She brought her rifle up and aimed it at the opening she’d just cut.
Steve snapped another light stick and with the larger opening was able to throw it further inside. They waited, watched and listened. Nothing came. “Going in,” Kathy said. She went through the opening and unlocked the large rolled metal door. Brent followed her inside, Steve remained on the outside, and they quickly set about the noisy task of raising the bay door.
With the bay door opened enough, Brent and Steve began looking for supplies. The brothers heard five gunshots and turned toward the noise.
“Two runners. They’re down now,” Kathy said.
Brent and Steve pushed rolls of chain-link fence and carried out posts and wire onto the loading dock. They rolled the fencing out and into the bed of the truck. Kathy, Brent, and Steve took turns standing sentry while the other two worked. Normally more would be in their party, but the pressing need to get the perimeter fence secured and Jim, Chris, and Jeremy being gone meant they had to make do with less.
Finished, tired, with their pickups loaded to capacity, they prepared to head back to the farm. “Let’s see if that thing works,” Kathy said.
Brent and Steve followed where she pointed, to a large Home Depot flatbed.
“The more we can carry at one time, the better,” Brent said.
A check of the cab found the keys in the ignition, and it started on the first try. The forklift mounted on the rear of the flatbed wouldn’t start. Kathy decided to take it anyway and left it in place; it would be useful if they could get it running again. After some extra time taken to offload the truck of the sheetrock that had been soaked by rain several times over, they were on their way back to the farm with another large flatbed truck.
Kathy decided to drive the large delivery truck herself. The Cutler brothers followed in the other two pickups. Their route would take them through the southwest part of Gainesville, past some smaller strip malls where Brent hoped to check a Radio Shack or similar store for cable and other components for the closed circuit TV system he had been trying to get operational. With only three of them, they thought the smaller businesses in the strip malls would be easier to secure and search.
“There on the left,” Steve said over the walkie-talkie.
“I see it,” Kathy said. She slowed and cut across the road, going westbound on the eastbound lanes.
Steve and Brent followed her into the parking lot of the strip mall and they stopped in front of a section called Ed’s CCTV World.
The Cutler brothers pulled up to the front and waited inside their idling trucks. Kathy drove around back to look for signs the shop was occupied by infected or someone that had decided to call it home.
They had learned that most of the time the infected in a building or close by would come out to investigate noise. If the sun was bright enough they would retreat back inside, unless they were the slow ones.
With no signs of entry in the back of the CCTV shop, Kathy rejoined Brent and Steve at the front. After a minute or two the three trucks were maneuvered with the front ends facing away from the building to facilitate a quicker retreat. Kathy, Brent, and Steve gathered at the front door of the shop and peered inside.
“Infectious diseases,” Jim muttered.
“What?” Chris asked. “The Infectious Diseases department is where we need to go next,” Jim said a little louder and clearer. He looked down at the schematic they had gotten from the lobby and back up.
“For what?” George asked incredulously. “Because you’re a lab assistant that’s worked on this shit,” Jim said and pointed to the four corpses that Chris had shot moments earlier.
“I can’t cure this,” George whispered.
“Your experience may be some help,” Jim said.
That argument seemingly over, “The Infectious Disease section is two levels up,” Jim continued. He started to lead them toward the stairwell.
“What about the elevator shaft?” Chris asked. His father, brother and George all looked at him like he was insane.
“What about the stinker in there?” Jeremy asked, referring to the infected that was the owner of the rotted arm that had reached out for them as they passed.
“We’ll let it keep that one. I’m talking about seeing if there’s a ladder in the other shaft we can climb,” Chris said.
“Great idea,” Jim said and turned to lead them to the elevators.
They approached the elevators and, as before, the slightest noise brought out the rotten arm and hand and it reached at air. The owner of the extremity made none of the growling they had become used to hearing from the infected. Jim pointed to the closed elevator to the left of the one whose occupant seemed desperately to want company.
He pocketed the map and removed the Halligan tool from his back. Jim wedged the duckbill tip between the doors and pried them open about three inches. Jim lowered and turned on his NVGs and cautiously peered in the gap from what he hoped was a safe distance away. “Empty,” Jim whispered. He shut off his NVGs and raised them.
While Chris and Jeremy stood guard Jim placed a leg on one door and grabbed the other, pushed and pulled until he increased the opening in the elevator doors.
“Wait here,” Jim quietly said to the others as he moved into the elevator. He poked his head back out the doors. “Shit. Come in here, Jeremy. You’re the tallest,” Jim said. He handed Jeremy the Halligan tool and told him to pry open the hatch in the elevator’s ceiling. Jim got on his hands and knees so Jeremy could step up on his back to get a better reach.
“Is that enough light for you?” Jim grunted as Jeremy stepped onto his back.
“It’ll work,” Jeremy replied and started to work on the hatch as quietly as he could. “Got it,” he said and stepped down off his father.
“Help me up there, Jeremy. George goes next and then you. George and I will pull Chris up after, while you cover the hall behind him,” Jim said.
They entered the elevator shaft and used the maintenance access ladder in the side of the shaft to ascend the two floors. When they reached the elevator doors, as before Jim pried a small gap. He used a mirror with extendable handle to check for infected in both directions of the hallway. He saw nothing and was pulling in the mirror when movement caught his eye.
He stopped and then slowly extended the mirror again, angled down the hall to their left. Jim saw that what he thought was a female in purple scrubs had stopped at the intersecting hall. The infected woman just stood there with frothy drool dangling from her chin. She swayed slightly and periodically a random extremity twitched. Jim slowly moved the mirror to look to the right. He saw nothing had appeared in that direction. He checked on the location of the one with purple scrubs. She was still there.
Jim turned and looked down the ladder and made eye contact with George and his sons as they looked up. Jim pressed his index finger to his lips to signal what they already knew,
be quiet
. He signaled that he had seen one infected and to stay put. Jim pried the doors open as quietly as he could. He checked the hall again. The opening was big enough to stick his head out, but he used the mirror to be safe. The thing in purple scrubs was still at the end of the hall. He pulled apart the doors more until he made enough room for them to exit the shaft.
Jim looked down and nodded to the three men below, and received nods in response that indicted they were ready. His sense of smell was assaulted by the stink of decay. Jim turned back to the elevator doors and was met by a pair of purple scrub-clad legs. His eyes quickly followed the legs up to the head. She simultaneously bent her knees to squat and reached out her hands toward his face. Her movement was accompanied by the faint sound of stiff cracking joints.
The infected woman reached for Jim’s head without expression. As her knees hit the floor her yellowish slavering mouth opened and was bending toward him. Jim realized the weight of the Halligan tool in his right hand. He leaned back to avoid her grasp and swung the tool overhanded into her head.
Chris, Jeremy, and George heard the crack of bone when the pike end of the tool penetrated the front of the infected woman’s skull. Jim held the Halligan tool and pushed the infected woman away, against the wall opposite of the elevator. He checked in both directions of the hall as he also pulled himself up and out of the elevator shaft. He got his rifle to the ready position and checked both directions. Satisfied it was still clear, he signaled for the other three to exit the elevator shaft.
After Chris and Jeremy climbed from the elevator shaft and took up positions to cover them, Jim removed the Halligan tool from the woman’s head. He put on a latex glove and used Clorox wipes to clean the pike of blood before he returned the Halligan tool to the holder on his back.
With the stench of the scrub-clad dead-again infected, Jim, Chris, and Jeremy did well to keep the contents of their stomachs in place.
George did not. He gagged several times and then bent into the elevator shaft. Before he could vomit, Jeremy grabbed him and shoved him toward a dead potted plant. “Upchuck in there, man. I don’t want to climb back down slipping and sliding in your puke,” Jeremy said.
George couldn’t hold back any longer. He continued to vomit as infected from open doorways along the hall made their way toward them. Two had approached from the left and four from the right. Like the one that had the Halligan tool driven through her head, these six were slow and spastic in their movements.
“These are the dead ones,” George said as he stood and wiped regurgitated stomach contents from his mouth and chin.
“Head shots,” Jim said.
After several rounds all but one of the infected remained standing. Jim fired two rounds into the chest of the infected man wearing a hospital gown. He continued toward them, dragging an overturned IV stand on the floor behind him. Jim fired two more shots and then three. All of the rounds impacted the man’s chest. The man continued unfazed. The only effect seemed to be the infected slightly lost and then regained his balance as though punched in the chest.
“Dad?” Chris said. Jeremy and Chris had turned to look behind them at their father.
As the infected man got within five feet, Jim fired two quick shots into his right eye. The infected man dropped to his knees and then fell forward onto his face with a smack. “Just checking,” Jim said.
George bent over and vomited in the potted plant again.
Jim was staring, fixated on the man that he had just shot seven times in or near the heart without a noticeable effect before killing him, again, with two shots to the head. Jim looked around and saw no more infected approaching. He noticed his sons and George were as fixated on the gown-wearing corpse as he had been. “Change mags,” Jim said as he replaced the magazine in his own M4. Chris and Jeremy did the same.
They approached open doorways with extreme caution. Infected close to doors or runners that charged the doorways were shot and the door closed. Whenever it was safe to do, they just closed doors as they crept by. The infectious disease department area was in slight disarray but unoccupied by infected. George read over notes and printouts for anything regarding the SCAR virus. Jim and his sons grew impatient with George’s slow progress and urged him to move with more urgency.
“Come on. This isn’t a fucking trip to the library, George,” Chris said.
They collected whatever files and equipment George said might be of any use if they could carry it and still fight. They made their way back to the elevator. With the weight and bulk of the lab equipment on their backs, descending the elevator shaft was precarious. All four were tired by time they reached the roof of the elevator where they had first started.
Jim extended the mirror and lowered it through the roof of the elevator and as far out of the doors as he could. Jim checked both directions and it looked clear. Jim and then Jeremy lowered themselves into the elevator. Jeremy received the duffle bags and packs Chris and George passed down while Jim kept watch in the hall off of the lobby. They avoided the reach of the infected inside the other elevator as they moved toward the lobby.
Jim led as they approached the end of the hall; he looked to the right and signaled with his left hand for them to ‘freeze’. George kept walking and walked into Jim’s back.
“Wha . . .” George started to speak but was cut off when Chris spun around and placed his hand over George’s mouth.
Jeremy pulled George backwards as Chris made the ’shush’ sign with his finger to his lips while the other hand still covered George’s mouth.
George’s eyes grew large and he nodded slowly before Chris removed his hand. Jim looked to the left and then signaled for them all to back up. Jeremy, the last in line, began to back up. He pulled on George’s shirt when he noticed he wasn’t moving. George turned his head back toward Jeremy and Jeremy impatiently motioned for him to back up.
Once back near the elevators, Jim whispered to the others what he’d seen. Since their ascent to the second floor, infected had gotten through the doors from the emergency room.
“I thought they couldn’t open doors,” George said, too loud for the current situation.
Jeremy shushed George again, “Maybe they bumped into the push bar. It doesn’t freaking matter right now, George,” Jeremy said.
Jim explained that he had seen the doors were in the open position, held open by the infected in the doorway. He estimated a hundred or more infected milled about the lobby and more were outside of the main entrance.
“What are we going to do?" George repeated three times before Chris quieted him by clasping his gloved hand over his mouth again.
Jim kept his eyes toward the lobby as he motioned for the others to get closer.
“George, you’ve got to keep your shit together. Understand?” Jim asked. He received several rapid nods from George as a reply.
Jim then explained his idea. Since the infected were drawn by noise, he would toss a flash-bang at the entrance. He hoped it would draw the infected away from them. Then he planned on using the fragmentation grenades to try and thin out their numbers. After that, rifle fire to make their way outside.
Arzu occupied her mind playing with Berk and Kayra, and working on designs for the perimeter fence, guard towers and other fortifications. She tried to keep from worrying about her husband and stepsons, but that proved impossible. Like the last time she and Jim had been separated during the outbreak, he was going into another hospital, this time with Chris and Jeremy. It didn’t make her feel any better that her sons, although not of her flesh and blood, accompanied her husband in this instance. If anything, she felt three times the worry.
How had the world turned into such a terrible place? She wished for the time before the infection. A time when the everyday stresses were paying bills, getting the kids ready for school, grocery shopping and worrying about what was going to be for dinner. She knew she had to resign herself to the fact that those simple times were now gone. Life was now a nightmare, with some parts less terrifying than others. She buried those thoughts and focused on the security of the Yates’ farm. Right now that was their home and it had to be defended.
Janice Cutler approached Arzu and offered to take Berk and Kayra to play with the other children on the swing set and slide behind the Yates’ home. “This way they can’t see the gate,” Janice said.
Arzu needed to go to the gate and take measurements for her plans on upgrades. She had been putting it off. Going near the fence where the infected could see you had usually drawn the attention of any nearby. Although Berk and Kayra had been happy to see the other kids again, they had become more and more inseparable from there mother.