Salby Damned (15 page)

She took a breath and picked up a whiteboard marker pen so that she could construct simple diagrams to help her explanation. She began to address the assembled officers, medical staff, and colleagues.

“When we started decommissioning nuclear arms in this country, the government defence budget was cut in half. I was tasked with creating an adequate defence mechanism to protect the United Kingdom, within the funds available. My field of work is neurological and microbiological science, specialising in some nasty viral agents that could be used as chemical weapons against any future aggressors. The Salby virus strain, this is important so please remember this, is an acronym for Saliva Activated Live Blood type Y. After initial gaseous dispersal into any environment, its primary method of regeneration is by saliva transfer. The virus, on entering the human body, will attack the brain shutting down all unnecessary functions such as emotion, feeling, memories, disciplines, conscience, and the requirement to sleep, allowing the infected subject to remain active night and day.”

An audible gasp echoed throughout the room. Evie waited for the group to settle before continuing.

“Having disabled the brain, leaving only basic functions needed to survive, the virus then infiltrates the bloodstream, seizing control of the blood cells, assimilating them into its own genetic cell structure. The blood becomes a thick, jelly-like substance, which accomplishes two things. It transfers oxygen to the body and eliminates the likelihood of a subject bleeding to death if the body sustains ordinarily fatal injuries. In infected subjects, the eyes lose their natural colour. This is to limit brain activity and allows only black-and-white sight to be used. Anyone exposed to the gaseous or saliva transferred form of the virus has between twenty and thirty seconds before it takes control of their body. After that point, the effect is irreversible and will eventually result in the death of the subject. We designed this virus to last for a maximum of three hours in the open air. However, it is not the open air that neutralises it after that time. It is ultraviolet light, coming from sunlight.”

Evie paused, looking at Lieutenant Colonel Connell, who clearly wanted to say something.

“Colonel?” she said simply.

“Lieutenant, that’s quite a creation you came up with. Are you saying that sunlight will kill this thing?”

“No, Sir, it will all make more sense shortly. So far, that is not the worst of it. You see, infected subjects feel rage and a desire to kill all living things, with the exception of other infected souls. It was designed to tap into what we call the red room, a specific area in the brain that records every incident in a person’s life that has resulted in anger, frustration, or malicious feelings.” Another gasp of disbelief engulfed the room.

“Simmer down, simmer down. Allow Lieutenant Shepherd to finish please.” The deep tone of the C.O. boomed out, quelling the outburst.

“Thank you, Colonel. Finding the red room, the virus uses it to create a feeling of raw rage in the subject. Everyone, no matter rich, poor, black, white, male or female has, at some point in their lives, felt anger towards another for whatever reason. It could be something major, like an acrimonious divorce, or it could be minor, like being cut up on the road by another driver, even simple things like a partner leaving the toilet seat up. The greater the incidence of anger in the life of the victim, the more brutal that infected person becomes. The virus then assembles and unleashes the rage for one sole purpose, to kill anything and everything that lives. We have created an almost perfect soldier. We designed it so that we could drop a single dispersal device into any hostile country, then sit back and wait while the infected simply tore each other apart, and then, within two weeks, we could simply march a small force into that country. All of this without the fear of infecting our own troops and without firing a single shot.”

“But then, Lieutenant,” interjected the colonel, “how would you get rid of the infected if they don’t kill those already infected? Surely you would be left with tens of thousands of still infected to deal with?”

“That’s a very good question, Sir, well observed,” she said, before continuing.

“The C.O. has asked the million-dollar question and one that had me puzzled for a long time. How do we get rid of the infected? What we did was make the virus disable the urge to sleep. Sleep is a basic human requirement. Without it, we die and we will do so long before we starve to death. Depending upon the physical condition of the infected at the time of infection by the virus, it will take three to five days at a maximum before their body shuts down through lack of sleep. Since it is impossible for them to sleep without medical assistance, the result is certain death. The main organs begin to fail and the body eats itself to stay alive. There are some things in this world that we wish we could uninvent ladies and gentlemen, and this virus is one of them.”

“This is frightening, Lieutenant. You mentioned UV light. Will that kill the infected? If not, what is the most efficient way to defend ourselves against the effects of this weapon?”

Major Sower asked the question. He was clearly disturbed by what he'd been told.

“Major Sower, Sir. That is another very good question. The virus itself in any substrate, either gas or liquid, can maintain stability for a maximum of three hours in sunlight. Once active in a victim, it will begin to degrade, causing physical signs in the infected, ranging from dead or loose skin to sunken eyes, muscle wastage, and poor co-ordination, commensurate with the lack of sleep. This is visible usually within three days of infection. There's some variability because of natural protection of the skin oils from UV light and because of the subject's ethnicity. To answer the second part of the question you posed, Sir, the most effective way to kill any infected person is to take out any of the vital organs. The heart, lungs, brain, or nervous system would work. Shooting around the organs will not cause blood loss as the virus creates a self-sealing coagulant jelly. This means that the victims can sustain massive injuries and they'll not be fatal unless destruction of a major organ is involved; they are effectively super soldiers.”

This raised the eyebrows on the senior officers and the medical staff alike, resulting in a deathly silence as Evie adjusted her position on the edge of the table. The characteristics of a model soldier that Evie was describing did not fit those required by the military men present.

“Are there any further questions anyone?” she said. She was ready to sum up with proposals.

Again, the colonel motioned that he wished to speak.

“Lieutenant Colonel?” Evie said, ready for the question.

“Lieutenant, do you have any proposals on how we should proceed to deal with this, from a medical point of view?”

“Yes, Sir, I was just about to get to that. You will have noticed that, over the last few days, the attacks have been more consistent through the night. While the infected have no idea why, they will try to avoid prolonged exposure to direct sunlight, although there will be some who simply don’t have the capacity to resist the urge to kill. They will still venture out in the daylight hours and this will shorten their life. It is crucial that we capture some of the infected alive. We’ll need a secure area in which to keep them, good security, and sedatives. Can I suggest a tranquillizer rifle perhaps? All front-line staff should be given instructions on how to kill any of the infected aggressors, to ensure effective use of ammunition and prevent infection.”

“What about off base activities, Lieutenant?” the C.O. added.

“All night supply sorties must be moved to daylight hours as there will be a lower chance of contact for those on the missions. We should erect high-power UV lighting stands at intervals around the most vulnerable parts of the base. This will help to funnel and corral the attackers into the heavier armed places along the fences. Finally, perhaps of the utmost importance, it is imperative that we regain control of the Salby facility where we have secure chambers to allow us to work on the infected safely. We also have all of the equipment needed to formulate a vaccine and maybe a cure other than inevitable death. Can I leave the planning to you, Sir?” she said, with a smile and a glance to the lieutenant colonel.

Evie stood, grateful of the pressure release at the back of her legs. She walked to the opposite side of the desk to fold away her notes. The C.O. stood, addressing the entire meeting to bring it to a close.

“We aim to attempt entry to the Salby facility first thing tomorrow, Lieutenant, which will be day five from viral release. We’re aware that food and stock supplies within the compound will be running out by now, so an attempt must be made to get to any survivors. I’ll brief you later this evening in the company of Sergeant Cross and Staff Sergeant Stewall. I’m assuming that they were on the fences last night, which would explain their absence here. Corporal Simms will come and find you. Thank- you for the detailed heads up, Lieutenant. That’ll be all everyone, dismissed.”

As they left, Evie heard the chatter and the low tones of the officers, discussing their plans with the C.O. The colonel briefed Major Sower on changes to camp organisation as a result of Evie's briefing and the immediate withdrawal of all night supply sorties. Major Sower was tasked with seeing to the base defences and setting up the secure lab facility within the Military Police buildings, and following the chain of command, the orders were passed down for implementation.

The C.O. walked past Corporal Simms with a nod at her salute, before turning to speak to her.

“Corporal Simms, would you be so kind as to have Sergeant Cross and Staff Sergeant Stewall report to my office for 1900 hours please?”

“Yes, Sir, I will see to it,” was the rapid reply.

“Thank you, Corporal, that’ll be all.”

“Sir!” she said, with another braced-up salute. The officer nodded again before leaving.

*******

The children, particularly Tom, were apparently starving, as if it had been a week since they last ate, instead of just a couple of hours. Nathan shielded his tired eyes from the glare of the sunlight, making a mental note to find some tinted glasses on the night’s mission. He was sure that here would be some very long days ahead, with little chance of sleep. Walking hand in hand with Tom and Holly towards the cookhouse, they almost collided with a man in a suit, who seemed to have some sort of stomach pain. Nathan paused with the kids, checking to see if he needed help.

“Are you alright, mate?”

“What? Oh yes, yes, I’m fine, thank you,” replied the skittish-looking man adding, “Just a spot of turbulence below is all I think. Maybe something I ate.”

“The nearest toilet is that way, fella,” said Nathan, pointing in the opposite direction to the man.

“Oh, oh yes, I know, but I have allocated quarters in the main building, so I prefer to use those facilities. They are not open to … everyone else. If you’ll … err, excuse me,.” he said, distastefully.

He seemed too keen to be away from the prying eyes of the man and his kids. Nathan watched the hunched-over figure as he made his way to the residential block; something wasn’t quite right about that man, he thought.

“Come on, Naffam!” Holly pleaded.

Back at the wellhead, Doctors Goedricht and Simmons analysed the data and images from the drone that had been sent down the wellhead borehole, before packing up and joining the team at Dishforth.

“There are some very odd readings from these traces. Do you see?” said Kate, handing the strip reading to Hans for a second opinion.

“It’ll be picking up trace elements of the virus, I should think. There seems to be some sort of field distortion too. Some kind of underground reactor would cause that,” he said.

“If the town has its own power generator, just what kind of town is it?”

“Kate, if Dr. Fitzgerald wanted us to know the full details, then he would have told us, don’t you think? Let’s cover this up as you say, and get ready to leave for the base.”

“Wrap this up, Hans, wrap this up,” she said, smiling at his error.

***

In the makeshift mortuary, Dr. Mo. Sighal was busy cleaning his instruments and packing them away ready for transport. The bodies would be coming with them, he assumed. He had just completed the post mortem examination of the small child, estimating her age to be six years old. The procedure, even for one so experienced, had touched him, and he felt sorrow for the young victim as he washed her body clean and combed her matted hair before proceeding with the operation. In each of the subjects, he had found similar symptoms: blackened eyes, slight brain shrinkage, and the jelly-like substance that should once have been blood.

He'd worked on biological weapon strains in his own facility farther north but he had never seen anything as effective as this. He'd be sure, when he arrived at the base at Dishforth, to seek out the scientist who worked on this; he wanted to learn more about it. Having taken blood, tissue, and fluid samples from the three victims for analysis, he made sure they were all labelled and sealed before placing each vial into a protected carrier that was airtight and then locked in a transport box. Carefully, he placed each body into a zip bag; they couldn’t stay here and the Dishforth team may need to do additional tests if they had better facilities at their disposal than he had, he thought.

A small group of uniformed men arrived to move the bodies, and they did so silently, respectfully, and without comment or expression. The whirring rotors of the helicopter as it touched down signalled the men to load up the deceased before they boarded. His colleagues appeared grateful to be out of the bio-suits as they had spent two days inside of them, almost around the clock. Kate stood, watching the men load the tiny mortuary bag. She placed her hands over her nose and mouth, stifling an involuntary shudder. She expected more young bodies to be found in the next few weeks, months, and possibly even years, if they could not find a way to stop its spread.

“You okay, Kate?” asked Hans, noticing her discomfort.

“Yes, just, well, you know,” she said quietly.

“It is never easy, especially with those so young. We go now,” he replied, and the Austrian twang of his accent seemed stronger for a moment.

With everything loaded, they finally boarded. Turning north and gaining altitude unfolded the war-torn scenes below as they passed over small hamlets and villages. The dead littered the streets and the carnage and wrecked vehicles filled every arterial road. Farmhouses smouldered, having burned for days, casting plumes of smoke into the sky. It was impossible to tell from the air how most of the victims had met their end, but it seemed that some had simply fallen where they stood.

The low thump, thump, thump of another aircraft mingled with the noise of theirs, and they each looked out to see a huge Chinook double-rotor transport helicopter drifting slowly past. It had a container attached to the bottom with steel cables. That helicopter housed clean-up crews, demo teams, and engineers assigned to make the wellhead site disappear forever. They would seal the boreholes for all time, and by the time they left, it would be impossible to tell that anything had ever existed there at all.

***

The chief engineer of the SGFC kept his distance from the gaunt outline of the man ahead. Not wishing to be seen, he used the cover of buildings, vehicles, or other people to mask his progress. Entering the makeshift dormitory that had once housed aircraft for repairs or servicing, he had lost sight of his target. Instead, he picked up a young female corporal, recognising the double flattened “V” shape of her rank badge when she turned to the right. She was also staying out of sight of Colin Snape.

What could she possibly want with him?

He waited, making sure that the young non-commissioned officer didn’t notice him. Now, watching her, he held back to see what would happen. Perhaps the actions of Snape had aroused her suspicions? The young corporal moved from one side of the hangar door to the other, moving carefully, so as not to be noticed. Then she backed off, just before the assistant executive officer emerged, easily recognised by his gait. Snape seemed to have a problem, and Brian noticed Snape's right arm across his stomach, as if in pain. No, not pain; could it be that he had found the missing laptops? Brian decided to find Meriam; he needed to be sure it was a laptop the man hid. He would need Snape distracted for a few minutes, long enough to carry out the rest of his plan.

Walking slowly back to the main residential building, making sure that his boss reached it well before him, he stopped as a man with two children chatted with Snape. After a few seconds, Colin disappeared into the foyer and stairwell of the block. Knocking gently on Meriam’s door, Brian waited for the response, not wanting to make any noise as the boss’s room was directly across the hallway. He heard the footsteps as she came to the door. He placed his finger to pursed lips as a warning to be quiet when she opened the door. She nodded, understanding his meaning as he stepped inside.

After the lightest of kisses to his mouth, she pulled at his arm and lead him to the toilet, as it was farthest away from the door and they would not be heard talking.

“Hey, you, good news, I think. I’ve been tailing the boss from a distance. I think he’s found the missing laptops, but I can’t be sure. Are you up for a little charm initiative?”

“Really? You think he’s found them already? What do I have to do?” Meriam said, smiling at him.

“Well, I could do with about twenty minutes alone with that laptop, and that means we need to get Snape out of there. Right now, he’ll be trying to turn it on and delete files, but it doesn’t matter if he succeeds. The data on it can be recovered, and he's not clever enough to do a real wipe. It would be better if we got to it before he does, though.”

Meriam nodded as he spoke, slowly understanding what it might take to get Snape to do as they wanted.

“Look, Meriam, I don't like asking you this,” Brian started.

“But,” countered Meriam. She knew what was coming.

“Well, do you think you could charm him into having dinner with you in the cookhouse? You know, take him away, errr … entertain him somehow?”

“He’ll be putty in my hands, you just watch,” she said, not relishing her duty. He pulled her close and kissed her softly.

“That's my girl.”

Meriam gave Brian a very coy, old-fashioned look.

Hell, she’d only have to look at me that way and I’d pretty much do what she asked.

Meriam stood before him, straightened her blouse and popped the top two buttons, just enough so that if she moved in a certain way, it could prove to be revealing.

***

Colin was sure that he'd made it back to his room undetected. He retrieved the machine from his waistband, almost letting it slip from his fingers accidentally, before looking at the lettering and company logo on the front.

It was one of the missing laptops. What a stroke of luck.

Sitting on the bed, he placed the laptop on his knees and flipped up the folding LCD display. His thumb pressed the “on” switch and the computer began the boot process. He stared at the screen, impatient for it to boot. Finally, a light blue background flashed into view, followed by a name at the top of a small box in the middle of the screen. The name was Brin Garrett. Laughing, he typed in four zeros, pressed enter and waited.

ERROR. INCORRECT PASSWORD.

THREE ATTEMPTS REMAINING.

Three attempts, he thought. The company laptops allowed five attempts before locking the computer completely; only a computer engineer or hacker would then be able to fix it.

Three attempts remaining. Think, come on, think. What would that pathetic bumbling idiot foreman have used?

He was about to press the keyboard to try another password when there was a soft knocking at the door. He rose, closed the lid of the laptop, placing it beneath the bed sheets out of sight, before making his way to the door. On opening it, he saw Meriam, showing her cleavage with just enough to allow the lace edge of her bra to be seen. The door opened and Meriam smiled at the red-faced and flustered little man who stood before her.

Supercilious git. How I'd like to wipe that look off your face.

“Colin, uh, sorry, Mr. Snape, I wonder if you have a minute. There is something I need to run by you,” she said, trying to sound convincing, “it’ll just take a minute.”

Snape eyed her up and down, lingering at the open neck. His delirious brain was already undressing Meriam Stuart right there in the doorway.

“Please, call me Colin,” he said, obviously drooling and standing aside to allow her to come in.

“Sit, Meriam, please; there is no need to stand on ceremony here.”

She strolled to the edge of the neatly made bed and sat on the concealed laptop, which prompted her to jerk upward.

“Are you alright?” Snape said, realising what she'd done. He cleared the wooden seat and ushered her over to it, before he took up a position between her and the machine under the cover. It was clear that something was concealed there.

“Yes, it’s okay. I’m fine,” she replied; she was now certain that he had the laptop.

“My folder, I … I was doing some paperwork before you knocked. What was it that you wanted to see me about?”

“Ummm, oh yes, that,” she said.

“It’s about what happens in the future, I mean for us.”

“Us, Meriam? You mean you and I?”

His ego was massive so he latched on quicker than Meriam could have hoped. Anyone else would have been confused by Meriam's timely advances but not Snape; for Snape, everything centred around him. Meriam coughed at the realisation that this was moving faster than she'd expected. She hoped she could cope.

“Us, meaning you and me Colin,” she said and turned slightly to her right, which ruffled her blouse just enough to reveal the strap of her bra; his roving eyes made their way to her cleavage. Snape rose from the bed and stood in front of her, able to see clearly down the front of her blouse and admiring the delicate curves within.

She stood, bringing her body up close to his and purposefully brushed against him. His hands found her hips as he pulled her into his body. She swallowed hard, bile rising in her throat in revulsion. Before his mouth could try to find hers, she pushed him gently away.

“Now, now, Colin, I’m not that easy. Doesn’t a girl at least get to have her man take her to dinner first? A little chivalry would be lovely,” she said, trying to control her breathing.

“Of course, I was just in the middle of something though. Shall we say this evening, at seven?”

“How about now? I don’t know about you, but I’ve not eaten today so far, and I think the break from company business would do you good. Come on, humour me …” she said and pouted. Becoming proud of her performance, her confidence growing, she turned up the charm incentive a notch.

“It’s been awhile since I had a real man take me to dinner.”

He was hooked, she thought, and she was right.

They walked to the main stairwell. A few seconds after they left, Brian opened the door to his room, peered around it to check that the corridor was clear, and stepped out. He'd been waiting for the two of them to leave before making his move. He took a small black plastic case from his laptop bag, pushed open the door to Colin Snape’s room, and crouching on all fours to avoid being spotted through the window, he made his way to the bed.