Slow Burn (Book 2): Infected (7 page)

Me:
Amber.

Amber:
It’s reality, Zed. That’s how it is now. Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you in the morning if you want.

Me:
Absolutely.

I stared off into the darkness for a long time after my conversation ended while I ruminated over my choices. It was hard to tell which were good choices and which weren’t. They all turned sour at some point. They all seemed like mistakes.

Perhaps
good
needed to be measured in a new way. Perhaps
good
was just another day or hour of life. Was that as good as it was going to get? I wondered how Murphy would look at it.

It was time to check on Steph.

Me:
Steph, are you there?

Steph:
Will you be offended if I say again, wow, you’re still alive?

Me:
It’s the new hello LOL.

Steph:
Wow! You’re still alive!

Me:
Wow! You’re still alive!

I took a few moments to convey my situation to Steph before proceeding.

Me:
What’s the story at the hospital? Did you guys start infecting people?

Steph:
Yes : (

Me:
I’m sorry, but like you said before, it’s the only choice that gives some of you guys a chance.

Steph:
That’s the logic but that doesn’t make it any easier.

Me:
Are you okay with it all?

Steph:
I don’t know. It was a hard thing to talk about. But imagining the difficulty was nothing compared to the reality of it.

Me:
How many have you done?

Steph:
We started right after you and I talked earlier.

Me:
And?

Steph:
We literally drew names and the first twenty names we pulled got infected. Eighteen of them started to show symptoms within a couple of hours, some right away.

Me:
Did you follow through?

Steph:
Are you asking if we shot them?

Me:
Yes and no. I mean, you guys are doctors. I’m guessing you have drugs you could have used.

Steph:
We decided that down the road, drugs would have more value. The soldiers have lots of bullets. An injection would be more humane but we’re still talking about killing people. Once you make the big moral leap, the question of how you do it loses significance. They were shot.

Me:
So, eighteen shot and two left?

Steph:
Yes. Everybody here is praying that the two make it. That’ll give credence to the theory underlying this fucking experiment. It’ll give us hope.

Me:
Hope is important. When does the next group get infected?

Steph:
About forty minutes.

Me:
When will you know if you’re in that group?

Steph:
We’re drawing right before we infect. That way nobody has to brood over their upcoming turn and maybe do something stupid.

Me:
When will you know if the two that aren’t showing symptoms are immune?

Steph:
We’re talking about that now but the consensus seems to be twenty-four hours.

Me:
The doctors aren’t sure yet?

Steph:
Nobody really knows.

Me:
How are you holding up?

Steph:
I’m alive.

The darkness at the far end of the room grew as my flashlight battery slowly died. My eyelids got heavy. The hours wore on. I dozed off and jerked myself awake a half dozen times, taking deep breaths, and isometrically tensing my muscles each time to get my blood flowing again.

I stood up. I paced. I took care in keeping quiet. There was no point in disturbing the infected below.

I had the urge to check the time on the phone for the hundredth time, but that would only serve to drain the remainder of my battery.

I sat on a storage bin, leaned back against the concrete wall, and let my thoughts wander. I tried to imagine a future when all of the infected were dead, all but the slow burns like me. I wondered how close life could return to normal. I wondered how many humans would be left when the chaos resolved to order.

I squirmed around and tried to find a comfortable spot on the hard surface.

Murphy’s heavy breathing taunted me with a temptation to sleep.

I wondered if Amber or Steph would be alive in the morning. I wondered whether I should go back to rescue Amber again. Undoubtedly, Murphy would tease me, but she had the flash drive. That flash drive was more valuable than gold.

And, in spite of all that was going on, I wanted to see her.

My eyelids grew heavy again.

Tink. Tink. Tink.

What the hell was that?

I sat up straight and stared into the shadows at the far end of the bunker.

I listened.

Was it my imagination?

Was I dreaming?

Breathing as quietly as I could, I slid slowly off of the storage container and walked to the center of the bunker.

Aside from Murphy’s heavy nighttime breathing, the bunker was as silent as a coffin.

I stilled my body and listened. I heard the air flow through my throat. I heard my heartbeat in my ears. I strained at the silence, but no more noises revealed themselves.

Long minutes passed before I convinced myself that those three metallic
tinks
were my imagination.

I returned to my storage container. I checked the time on my cell phone. The light from the phone’s screen destroyed my night vision. When I turned it off, the previously dim bunker was nearly black. And the blackness was frightening.

I decided to go another twenty minutes before I woke Murphy.

Tink, tink, tink.

I sat straight up, alert.

That was not my imagination!

I looked again into the shadows at the end of the bunker.

Tink, tink, tink.

My doubts were gone. It was metal on metal.

Was it one of the infected squirming in a dream as he leaned against the door? Was the noise a rodent hiding in the junk? There had to be an air vent leading to the surface somewhere. Could the noise be the wind blowing a metal flap on that vent?

I got to my feet and moved to the center of the room, my M-4 up and ready. I made more noise than I’d wanted to, and as a result, I heard some stirring from beyond the door to the lower level.

I waited a long time for silence to return, and then I waited some more.

The noise was a mystery that I had to solve.

As quietly as I could, I stepped toward the door.

I reached over the boxes blocking my way, steeled my nerves, lay a hand on the door’s cold metal, and listened.

Nothing.

I leaned close and pressed my ear to the door.

I heard the breathing and night noises of half a hundred sleeping humans. No, not humans, not anymore. Monsters, in human skin.

Tink, tink, tink.

With my ear still pressed against the metal door, the sound was loud enough to startle me. I fell backwards.

The noise of my fall was more than sufficient to cause a stir beyond the door. At least a half dozen of the infected became animated and vocal.

I pulled myself to my feet as quickly as I could and leveled my weapon at the door. I waited.

The infected rustled around and pushed on the door but eventually calmed, and fell silent.

The metallic taps mystery was solved or at least the source identified. I asked myself whether someone could still be alive inside. If so, it had to be a slow burn.

I removed an ammo clip from my vest and slipped out one round. I stepped back over to the door and with the brass end of the round, I tapped three times on the door: tink, tink, tink.

I inhaled a slow breath.

Tink, tink, tink.

Was it an answer or a coincidence?

I tapped twice more.

Two
tinks
answered my taps.

I tapped once.

I was answered with one.

Holy crap!

All doubt was gone. Someone was in there.

Murphy and I stood about ten feet from the door to the lowest level. It was after three in the morning. I was dead tired, but the adrenaline was keeping me on my feet.

Murphy said, “What I don’t get is, if there’s somebody in there who isn’t infected, why didn’t they just come out?”

“I can’t answer that,” I said. “But if they’re in there with all of those infected, my guess is that they’re not normal. They’ve got be a slow burn, like us, or they’d have been killed.”

“So the Null Spot wants to save one of his own.”

“I think it’s the right thing to do.”

“Well there’s that, and then there’s the smart thing. If they’re locked in and can’t get out, then we’re safe for the night, anyway.”

I was miffed. “You want to leave them in there?”

“Chill, Zed. I’m just saying that we need to evaluate our choices and our chances before we jump into another pile of shit.”

“Fine,” I said. “What are our choices and chances?”

“Our first choice is to spend the night here, bail out in the morning and forget this place. That way we live through another night and don’t take any risks.”

“Yeah but…”

“Let me finish, Zed.”

“Fine.”

“Obviously if we do that, then whoever is trapped in there will die. They can’t get out by themselves. If they could have, they would have.”

“Agreed.”

“Our alternative is to bust open the door, kill all of the infected inside, and save any slow burns that we find.”

“Murphy, I’m resisting the urge to say something sarcastic right now.”

“Zed, I know I’m stating the obvious. We only have two choices. But all the risk to us comes with the second choice. We only have one way to get that door open and that’s with one of our limited supply of hand grenades. And we already talked about the risk of blowing a grenade in this confined space. Then we’ll have who knows how many infected coming out after us. Can we kill them? Probably. They can’t surround us. They can’t because they all have to squeeze through that door. They probably can’t overwhelm us. But you never know. Something unexpected could happen. A gun could jam. One of us might trip and fall. Hell, anything could happen, and if it does, one or both of us wind up dead. Do you see what I’m saying, Zed?”

“Yes, Murphy, I do. I know there’s an unquantifiable risk. If there’s anything I’ve learned so far, it’s that we live in a new world. I know that last week, if I tripped and fell, the worst case result was a bruise, or a tear in my clothes. Now if I trip at the wrong time, I die. Last week, if my flashlight batteries died, I went to the store for more. Today, I die. Last week, if I was thirsty, I just got a drink of water anywhere I wanted. Today, if I don’t have enough water with me, I have to find some and risk getting killed doing it, or I die.

“You see, Murphy. I do get it. Every mistake carries the death penalty. But Murphy, I can’t leave somebody in that bunker to die. I just can’t do it. We may be in an every-man-for-himself world now, but it will only be that if that’s what we survivors make it. I’m not doing that. I won’t.

“Help me or don’t help me. You decide. But I’m opening that door.”

Murphy took time but acquiesced, “Okay, Null Spot.”

“Murphy, you’re just saying that so that I’ll shut up.”

“Yes, Zed. I am. At this moment, I can’t think of a fate worse than listening to you babble on for another ten minutes of your Null Spot bullshit. Heh, heh, heh.”

Murphy continued, “I’ll help you do this. But just so you know, when everything turns to shit, I’m gonna save my ass. I’m not gonna get killed just to save somebody who’s gonna end up dead anyway.”

“Thanks, Murphy.” I was sincere.

“Zed, this is your deal. What do you want to do?”

I walked over to the door and whispered loud enough to be heard on the other side. “Tap once for yes and twice for no. Do you understand?”

Tink.

Predictably, some of the infected on the other side of the door started to respond.

I asked, “Can you open the door from your side?”

Tink. Tink.

Crap.

“Are there a lot of infected in there, with you?”

Tink.

“Are there any more normal people besides you?”

Tink. Tink.

The infected were starting to get excited. At least a few of them were pushing and pulling on the door. More and more infected moans seeped through the door.

“Do you have any other way out of there other than this door?”

Tink.
Tink.

“Go to the far end of the bunker. Cover your ears and hide behind something, if you can. It’ll take a little while, but we’re going to blow the door. Don’t come out until the shooting stops or until you hear me call for you. Good luck.”

Tink.

Murphy said, “Just so you know, you’re moving all that shit away from the door. I’ll stand guard.”

“But you stood guard when I stacked it all in front of the door.”

“It’s your deal, Zed. If you want it moved, you have to do it.”

I moved all of the boxes and junk away from the door. I then stacked it all into a wall about halfway up the length of the second level. I left room on one side to walk around the wall. That was my escape route.

To reduce the concussion effects of the grenade in the confined space, we needed to open the doors.

Opening the first door and going into level one showed us a room was just as we’d left it except for a haze of smoke that hung in the air.

The door to the outside was still hot and was hard to open. It was covered with a layer of ash and embers. Outside was another story.

But for the absence of Satan, the world looked like Hell.

The thick gray smoke was mostly gone. Black skeletons of gnarled old oak branches reached into the sky. Hulks of gray automobile carcasses littered the landscape. Nearly everything combustible was burned or smoldering.

Hot mounds of glowing embers were everywhere.

Most of the houses in the neighborhood were simply gone, replaced with geometrical piles of ash and occasional brick facades that hadn’t crumbled in the violence of the fire.

There were spots however, that the fire had bypassed. Far in the distance I saw a few houses with green bushes and dead lawns, untouched by flame.

To the north, the fire glowed orange in the sky. To the west of the interstate, city lights glowed and illuminated the smoke from underneath.

High above us, enormous billows of black smoke flowed west, blotting out wide swaths of starlight and trailing an oily stink.

“What is that?” I asked, pointing up at the heavy black smoke.

“I’ll bet the refineries in Houston are burning,” Murphy answered.

“You think?”

“Yeah, I worked at one between Houston and Galveston for a couple of years. We lost power once during a storm, and it was a big fucking deal. The place went on alert. The engineers had us running around and doing all kinds of shit, like they were afraid the place would blow up, or something.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know. I was just a flunky. But I’m betting that if the power went out to those refineries, something catastrophic happened. I’m betting that’s smoke from the refineries.”

“Jesus. How much oil is stored down there?”

“Enough to burn for months, I’ll bet.”

I scanned the area for movement, but saw none. I heard no human sound of any kind. Any infected that hadn’t run away from the coming fire had likely died in it. For the time being, it was safe to be out in the open.