The Neuropathology Of Zombies (23 page)

“What about the special op’s guys who have been to the hotel, do they have any skin lesions?” I turned and asked the man in the black suit.
“Not that I am aware of, Doctor, but you can look for yourself in a few minutes,” he answered dryly and slowly; one eyebrow rose forming a squinty smirk upon his face. It looked like I was finally going to get into the hotel.

CHAPTER 33

I finished talking and the military officers mingled around the room exchanging tales about their brushes with the undead. They tried to one-up each other with grizzly details of their adventures. One soldier spoke of his experience as a member of the first ground patrol unit. They were attacked by a woman in a bikini with large breasts, and as he put it, ‘a hot zombie body’; that was certainly a phrase I never expected to hear.

Another Marine detailed how his unit lost two men while sweeping the capitol building. The group had encountered little opposition until they reached the main parliament chamber, where wild packs of ghouls climbed over the boxed seats, streamed down the alleys between the rows of chairs, and overwhelmed the soldiers. The Driftwood came from all directions, and the men were soon surrounded, overpowered by the sheer numbers of reanimated corpses. One Marine was bitten during the attack, but made it to safety with the others; he shot himself in the head as his platoon watched helplessly. “It was for the best,” was how the Marine closed his account of the incident.

I also overheard stories about the airport and the caves. There was a significant ground skirmish developing on both fronts. The cartel hold up in the airport was fiercely resisting the Marines stationed outside the fence. At one point members of the gang attempted to escape the Island on a small plane; the Marines blew it up as it lifted off the runway.

At the caves, the cartel, in conjunction with a few of the police officers, had attacked the observation tower where the governor and I had been, killing the remaining Marines. It was obvious that the entire situation was out of control and I felt like I was sinking into the madness, drowning in the surrounding bedlam.

Eventually, the room began to empty. Everyone returned to their posts and continued with their jobs. I wondered if they felt as hopeless as I did. The soldiers marched away so confidently; I wondered what the hell I was doing here. I swore if I made it home, I was never going to watch another zombie movie again. Maybe I would even stop giving the Halloween lecture.

“Why, Doctor, the fascination with the hotel?” the man in the black suit questioned as he approached me from the other side of the room.
“A number of reasons. It may be where this thing started. All of the people who have become infected without being bit by a zombie have come from the Marina Star Hotel. I need to see what’s in there. If this thing is being transmitted by mosquitos, we need to get samples of them for additional studies,” I pleaded.
“Understood,” he replied. “What is it exactly that you need to do?”
“I need to get into the room of Andrew Donald, number 1215. He was one of the bodies in the morgue cooler, and may be one of the first cases. He had no zombie bite marks. I want to see what’s in his room, maybe there’s something there that will help us,” I replied.
He held his hand up, displaying a cardboard tube. With a single motion he popped off the top and dumped the contents on to the conference table. He slowly and deliberately unrolled the curled up papers that emptied from the cylinder. The words ‘Marina Star Hotel’ were inscribed across the top of the first page; it was the blue prints of the hotel.
The hotel had fifteen stories, which seemed excessive given the size of the Island, but it was rumored to be booked to full capacity at the time of the outbreak. The man in the black suit flipped through the thick pages of drafting paper until he found the layout for the twelfth floor.
“Room 1215, you say, Doctor?” he asked, moving his finger along the purple colored print etched into the pale blue paper. “Here it is, right here, on the corner of the building.”
I scanned the drawing, searching for exits and elevators, trying to discover a way in, “That makes it a bit of a challenge.”
“In some ways, yes, but in other ways, it makes it easier,” he replied. His eyes narrowed as his concentration increased, his mind quickly running through all the possible scenarios, “because it really only leaves us with one option,” he finished, his voice trailing off.
“Well, I think it’s going to be tough to get from the elevator to the room, it’s pretty far down the hall,” I replied, pointing at the square on the page that identified the elevator shaft.
“Not very original, Dr. Hawk, I think we can do better than that. You’ve been watching too much television, and perhaps the seven times you rented ‘Zombie Slayer’ was six times too many!” he laughed.
At first I was surprised by this show of emotion from him. It didn’t strike me initially, but after a few seconds, I went numb; how did he know that I had rented that film seven times? My internal monologue began to run wild and I tried to count the number of times I watched that movie. It was a bit eerie, but I was certain that the man in the black suit knew more about me that I did about myself. He must have noticed my stunned look, he shot me a sheepish grin and then turned his head back to the blue prints.
“Have you ever gone rappelling?” he asked slyly.
“No, can’t say that I have.”
“Well, then, this should be quite an eventful day for you, because you are about to.” He laughed again. “We’re going to scale down the building, it’s only three floors below the roof. We rappel down, cut a hole in the window and climb in, very quick, very easy,” he said, sliding his finger along the floor plan.
After we had finish plotting our strategy I walked out to the parking lot. I crammed as many plastic specimen containers as I could into an olivecolored canvas medical kit knapsack. I was told there would be about a half hour wait for the helicopter to take me to the Marina Star. The sun was beginning sag in the western sky. I sat under a tent, sheltered from the scorching rays, drinking water, I had become dehydrated through a combination of heat and excitement. I nibbled on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that I had constructed utilizing some military field rations. The bread was bone dry, snow-white, and tasteless. Combined with the peanut butter, it clung to the roof of my mouth with the adhesive power of crazy glue.
The stench in the air had grown stronger, and every once in a while became unbearable as the wind swirled around the make-shift headquarters. Between the odor and the indestructible sandwich, I had lost interest in eating. I heard the helicopter approach and I choked back the last bite of food. I stood and walked towards the building, heading for the roof-top landing pad.

CHAPTER 34

The man in the black suit was already waiting for me when I stepped out onto the roof. He opened the door of the helicopter and motioned for me to enter. The man and I sat beside each other, but didn’t speak. It was only five minutes until we touched down on the top of the hotel.

I stepped out of the chopper and was met by four men in black fatigues. Each of them had a harness wrapped around their torso and an automatic rifle strapped across their chest. The man in the black suit approached and they snapped to attention.

“Gentlemen, this is Dr. Hawk. You will be taking him to room 1215, as we discussed earlier,” he said as he stepped back, forcing me to the forefront. “You’ll have to be quick, twenty minutes, tops; I’m sure the sound of the helicopter let them know we arrived.”

I gave a nervous wave and I felt a sheepish grin cross my face. “Hello,” was all I could manage to spit out. The man must have discussed our plan with his elite troops while I was back at the barracks, nearly choking to death on the peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

We walked over to the corner of the roof, three floors above room 1215. I was handed a harness and given some quick instructions as to how to use it. Basically, they were going to carry me down and I was not supposed to move. Easy enough.

The small knapsack filled with plastic sample containers was fastened to my back; the pack felt heavy as it rested it on my shoulders. I knew I brought too many containers, but I was only going to get one shot at this, I rather too many than too few.

The four soldiers anchored their ropes to the rooftop and threw the free ends over the ledge. Without a word we stealthily slithered to the twelfth floor. I looked down, we were directly above the pool. Lounge chairs lay overturned on the patio and there were personal belongings floating in the water. I couldn’t count all the corpses walking aimlessly around the pool, there were too many. I could hear the muted moans from twelve stories up.

I started to wonder if maybe the mosquitos had come from stagnant water near the pool. If I didn’t find anything in the room, I may have to figure out a way to get poolside. That would be tricky, given the number of Driftwood hanging around.

I glanced through the windows and into the rooms as we descended. It was difficult to see past the black tinted glass, my eyes strained, trying make out any detail. We were passing the fourteenth floor when motion inside one of the rooms caught my attention. I squinted, trying to focus. A face slammed against the window. The creature beat its hands against the glass, covering the window with a slimy film. I only caught a quick glimpse before we dropped to the next level.

I looked at one of the soldiers, he raised his finger to his lips indicating I should remain silent. We all exchanged eye contact for a brief moment and must have shared the same fear that the ghoul may have just announced our presence to the rest of the hive wandering through the hotel. We would have to be fast.

We finally stopped. One of the soldiers removed a small sliver blade from the side pocket of his pants and began to draw a large circle on the window. He pushed the center of the circle with his gloved hand. The cut glass fell onto the floor inside the lavish chamber.

The soldiers exchanged a number of hand signals and two of them slipped noiselessly into the room. After a few seconds, one of the men stuck his head out of the window and pulled me inside. The other two men followed behind me.

The soldiers unhooked the ropes from my harness. I looked around the room. It smelled awful, a combination of hot trash and vomit; the stench of decay made worse by the loss of power and a lack of air conditioning. Flies buzzed around our heads.

One of the men snuck over to the opened front door and looked at the number. He gave a ‘thumbs up’ and slowly closed it. The other three scoured the room for any lingering Driftwood; they opened the two closets, slid in and out of the bathroom, and circled the adjoining small living room space. Thumbs up all around. Everyone relaxed, a bit.

I stood in the middle, unsure of where to begin. I really hadn’t thought this far ahead. I never considered what I would do if I actually got into the hotel. Even worse, I had no idea what I was looking for. All eyes focused on me, waiting for action. I remained motionless.

“
Don’tlose yourshit, man
!” I thought to myself, “
Workit, baby, it’sjustlike anyscene, workit
!” my inner voice urged. “
Arbovirus, mosquitos
,” I continued to think.

I walked around, scanning my surroundings. The room was luxuriously decorated. A beautiful original oil painting hung from the white stucco walls. The desk was cherry, and the furniture leather. A full bar was built into the corner of the adjacent living area. In the bathroom, the countertops were constructed from marble.

Although the room was well adorned, it was in shambles. Clothes were scattered all over the floor, the trash bins rolled onto their sides. The blankets were pulled off the king sized bed and material that looked like vomit stained the corner of the stripped mattress.

“
Where wouldIfinddeadbugs
?” I thought. “Maybe I’m wrong, maybe there’s nothing here, maybe the mosquitos came from the pool area,” I couldn’t shut myself up.

I looked along the windowsill hoping to find piles of dead insects, but the windows were meticulously cleaned. I searched around the sink in the bathroom, nothing. I stood in the center of the room trying to figure out what to do next. The team of special op’s soldiers waited on guard.

The soldier stationed at the door raised his arm and everyone sank to the ground. I could hear the shuffling footsteps of a ghoul in the hallway. My mind flashed back to the roof top with the Governor and I wondered if he could smell us. There must be more out in the hall, I would have to be very quiet.

As I squatted, I decided to look under the bed. Expecting a grotesque wasteland compiled of years of filth, I hesitantly lifted the blanket that had fallen over the side; I was surprised at how clean the underneath was. I grabbed the edge of the bed as I stood, using it for leverage, my weight caused the mattress to tilt and I felt something wet trickle down my arm. I lifted my extremity and saw tiny brown insects wriggling across my skin. Startled, I frantically brushed them away, flinging them onto the carpet.

“What the hell is this,” I whispered, squatting again. I looked closer, getting on my hands and knees. I immediately jumped up and whispered loudly, “What the fuck!”

“Do any of you have a knife?” I mouthed to the group. One of the men handed me a gunmetal gray instrument, seven inches long, the blade was serrated near the hilt. A thick laminated canvas wrapped around the handle, the grip was easy and controllable.

I crouched next to the mattress, hovering my face just off the quilted cushioning. A flaky black stain was smeared across the covering; I chipped at it with the blade. Slivers of the desiccated crust flecked off and floated to the floor. I lowered my head, my nose just off the mattress, and gave a closer inspection; I noticed small white beads resting motionless among the dried dark debris.

I stood, and without hesitation, plunged the knife into the mattress. The shrill squeak of the metal blade striking the internal springs filled the room. I dragged the deadly weapon along the bedding, extending the slash. Throngs of deep brown colored insects erupted out of the gash like an oil geyser, spilling on to the floor and covering my feet.