A World Reborn: The First Outbreak (7 page)

“Roy.” Melissa got out. “I made it to the
executive suites.”

“Are you okay?” He asked sharply.

“Lots of stairs.” Melissa responded simply,
trying hard to get her breathing under control. “Where’s the roof access?”

“Okay, it’s going to look like this:
there’ll be a corridor with rooms on either side. In the centre of it there’ll
be a cross section; turn left, past another series of rooms, and there should
be a door dead ahead that leads to a single set of stairs. That’ll take you the
rest of the way to the roof.” Roy explained; Melissa tried to visualize what he
was saying, just in case she needed to move quickly.

“Straight, then left, door, stairs.” She
repeated. “Got it.”

One more deep breath and then she tried the
handle; it clicked easily and the door opened smoothly. She tried to prepare
herself for whatever might lie beyond, but to her surprise, and considerable
relief, the corridor was empty. No blood, no bodies, no sick people waiting to
take a chunk out of her, just an empty corridor with no evidence of habitation.
But there was a strange thing; metal barricades had been erected in front of
the elevator doors. They were waist high, and reminiscent of the ones used by
police to cordon off areas when a disturbance was happening. The room doors
were closed, and it was deadly quiet. Melissa entered the corridor, shut the
door behind her and advanced slowly. The corridor itself looked identical to
the ones downstairs, except perhaps for a bit more gold plating here and there
to make things appear more luxurious. Melissa figured this was to help justify
the excessive price tag. She briefly strayed towards a room door on the left,
resting her ear against it, but heard no signs of occupancy. Furrowing her
brow, Melissa continued forward, passing more rooms until she reached the
expected cross way further on. As she approached the cross section in the
corridor, she saw dead ahead a door marked stairs, presumably the north side
stairs, and then she saw that there were more metal barricades in front of the
elevator doors, and this puzzled Melissa. There’s no way, unless it happened to
be a highly specific convention, that people would’ve had access to these kinds
of barricades, so why were they here? And how did they know to set up the
barricades seemingly in advance? Further, if they had barricaded themselves in
up here, where the hell was everyone? Even if someone had managed to get word
from the ground floor to the top floor, it would have taken time to build such
an effective defence, yet, from what Roy said, everything had happened suddenly
and without warning. She shook her head dismissively, having no time to
contemplate the mystery.

Melissa moved left and started towards the
staircase to the roof. On her right, however, she saw the door to one of the suites
was cracked open. It was lit inside, so it had been occupied, Melissa reasoned.
As she passed, she crept towards it and quietly tried to peer inside, but it
was futile. Unsure whether she should check to see if anyone needed help or
whether she should continue onward to the roof, she decided to be cautious.
Melissa tapped lightly the door, but received no response. Gently, she pushed
on it and stepped inside. There was a small foyer area, with a turn off to the
left to the first bedroom, and ahead it lead into what seemed to be a living
area featuring a pair of leather sofas, a number of soft chairs, two footstools
and a glass coffee table. An open briefcase stood on the coffee table.

“Hello?” Melissa called out softly. There
was no answer. She left the door open behind her and crossed into the living
area. Ahead of her was a window showing off the beautifully illuminated Las
Vegas night sky and on the right, a bar and a faux fireplace. To the left,
enclosed within three walls of glass, was the conference room, which owned a
number of chairs around a large, highly polished table. A television hung on
the fourth, solid wall of the conference room, which was currently switched
off, while at the end of the gap between the suite wall and the conference room
glass wall was a door which presumably led to the bedroom and en suite
bathroom.

“Is anyone here?” Melissa asked, a little
louder this time. She looked at the briefcase on the table and saw it was
filled with foam and had cut-outs for items to be secured snugly and safely;
the shape of cut-outs were vaguely cylindrical, as though for securing tubes.
Looking through the glass into the conference room she could see additional
open briefcases which appeared to be identical to the one on the coffee table.
It seemed that whoever had occupied the room had left things behind in a hurry.
Melissa moved over to the glass door and went inside. The other open briefcases
had the same foam interior, but something else caught her eye. Beneath them
were plans of the building. She moved a briefcase out of the way and saw that
the top one was for the ground floor. Certain areas were highlighted: the
casino floor, one of the restaurants, and the entrance doors. In addition, hand
written notes revealing how long it took for an elevator to pass between the
floors and an estimate of the time it would take for someone to go up or down
the stairwells to move between the floors was scrawled in the white space at
the edge. It looked like a plan of attack. Melissa checked over the other pages
of plans, seeing other highlighted areas, like the theatre, certain stores in
the shopping area as well as chosen bars and restaurants on the second floor.
The only areas that didn’t seem to be highlighted included the swimming pools
and the majority of the guest room floors; however, every fourth or fifth one
was highlighted it seemed, based on a quick examination.

Melissa considered this, and then looked at
all the discarded briefcases; there had to

have been twenty,
maybe as many as thirty cylindrical spaces between them. She thought back to
what Roy had told her about the woman at the blackjack table who had injected
herself, and there had been similar individuals in other areas where people had
also starting biting those around them. Was it possible that this was where
they had made their final preparations? It made sense; if this was an organized
attack they would need a final staging area. Roy had also said the whole floor
had been reserved. That meant they had money, as these suites weren’t cheap.
Whoever was behind this attack was well funded and incredibly well informed.
The only thing Melissa didn’t have a clue about was their endgame; this attack
was frightening, but what purpose did it serve? If someone had developed such a
terrifying virus that it made people tear each other apart, why test it here?
Moreover, why go to all the trouble of locking the building down so that it was
entirely contained, thus preventing the infection from spreading into the city?
There were more questions than answers and Melissa wasn’t sure she would, or
even could, ever find out the truth. She decided to leave everything as she had
found it, and tell Roy. As she backed out through the glass door, Melissa began
to reach for the radio, but movement on the edge of her peripheral vision made
her freeze. A woman had entered the room and advanced towards the conference
room, stopping when she had caught sight of the intruder. Melissa looked her
over, noting her dark hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, and that she had a
wide scar over her right eye. She was wearing a long, heavy coat and equally
bulky looking pants and a sweater – things that were far too warm to be worn in
Las Vegas. Melissa realized she looked perfectly healthy too, not like the sick
people she’d encountered before. The woman looked over at Melissa and her face
narrowed into a scowl.

“Who are you? Are you a follower of the
Teacher?” She demanded, her voice nasal and aggressive. Melissa shut the
conference room door and assessed her options quickly. The second bedroom was
behind her, so she could retreat if necessary, but not escape. The only way out
was through this woman.

“Yes, I follow the Teacher.” Melissa
declared, bluffing confidence. The woman approached her.

“Really? I didn’t see you at the meeting.
What is the Teacher’s main belief?” She quizzed sharply. Melissa knew she was
out of options. The woman obviously knew she was lying, a fact confirmed when
her hand moved to pull back the coat to expose a holstered gun on her right
hip. Not waiting for her to have the chance to draw it, Melissa lunged forward
and slugged her hard in the face, momentarily stunning her. She instinctively
pulled back to punch her again, but the woman recovered faster than Melissa
anticipated; thrusting herself forward, she shoulder charged Melissa, knocking
them both to the floor. The heavy woman climbed on top of Melissa and swung her
left fist towards Melissa’s face, but, reacting quickly, Melissa managed to
grab her hand and prevent the attack. Her adversary reached down with her other
hand and grasped Melissa’s throat; she squeezed and immediately Melissa began
to choke. Her first reaction was to grab at the woman’s wrist and try to pull
the hand away, but Melissa recalled her self-defence training and focused on
controlling her actions. She moved her knees up so her thighs were against the
woman’s backside, then she bucked her hips upwards, jolting the woman forward a
little. Melissa then wrapped her right arm around the elbow of the arm the
woman was using to choke her, then she threw her left shoulder up, carrying the
woman to the side, flipping her over so she was no longer on top. They were so
close to the wall that Melissa couldn’t carry her over completely and instead she
slammed into it, grunting in pain. Feeling the pressure on her throat relaxing
momentarily, Melissa moved swiftly. She grabbed the woman’s index finger on the
hand around her throat and yanked back; she heard the bone snap and the woman
screamed in pain, her other hand instinctively pulling back to cover it in a
protective gesture, which also freed Melissa’s left hand. Melissa wasted no
time; she slammed her left fist into the woman’s face once, twice and then a
third time, stopping only when it seemed the woman was truly stunned. Seizing
the initiative, Melissa moved her hands and, albeit a little awkwardly, pulled
the gun on the woman’s hip free.

Melissa scrambled clear, getting to her
feet a few paces away. She clicked the safety off and pointed it at the prone
woman, who was now stirring and shaking her head; no doubt trying to refocus
after the brutal head blows. Melissa coughed, her throat a little sore after
the close call, but she was relatively uninjured.

“Who are you? What’s going on here?”
Melissa demanded, holding the weapon in both hands, her arms extended. The grim
looking woman looked at her, and then at the gun in her hands.

“You’re a strong one. It’s a shame you reek
of the degradation and corruption of the modern world.”

“You don’t smell so good yourself, sister.”
Melissa commented. “Now, answer the question!”

“It doesn’t matter. You lack the strength
of will to pull that trigger. You’re weak and pathetic, and like all those the
Teacher has warned us about, you’re just too afraid to do what needs to be
done.”

“You’d be surprised at the things I’ve
done.” Melissa replied coldly. She felt the pistol in her hand and wondered
just exactly what she was going to do now. She didn’t intend to murder her in
cold blood, but Melissa couldn’t just leave her here either. Her opponent
rolled onto her front and pushed herself up, getting into a kneeling position.

“Don’t move.” Melissa warned. The woman was
nursing her broken finger.

“I don’t answer to you.”

“You don’t have to, but I’m the one with
the gun, so you’ll do as I say.”

“If you don’t kill me, I will kill you.
It’s as simple as that.” She declared emphatically,. Melissa knew she wasn’t
going to get any more out of her. This person was devoted entirely to her
cause, and nothing would sway her from it or persuade her to talk to someone
she felt was completely beneath her. Melissa took a hurried step towards her and
swung the butt of the gun, smacking her on the side of the head. She went limp
and collapsed onto the floor. Melissa checked her pulse and found it was
beating steadily.

Sliding the gun into the back of her jeans
Melissa quickly searched her unconscious opponent. There was no wallet
containing identification, but there were a couple of spare clips for the
pistol stuffed into one of the coat pockets, which she took and jammed into her
jeans pocket. Next, she grabbed the woman’s arm and dragged her into the
bedroom, which Melissa noted absently, was fairly nice, with a big double bed,
a huge television and a door on the side leading off to the en suite bathroom.
Melissa lifted the woman onto the bed, stripped back the covers from beneath her
and used the sheet to make a rough rope to bind her hands and feet together in
an attempt at a hogtie. The sheet wasn’t ideal, and might not hold under
intense struggling, but it would slow her down, and, hopefully, Melissa would
be long done with her business on the roof before she came to. She quickly left
the bedroom and shut the door quietly, fervently wishing there was a way to
block it but, unfortunately, the door opened inwards. After a last glance
around the room, Melissa hurried to the exit and quickly left, mindful that
there could be more of the people responsible for the outbreak nearby.

Melissa ran to the roof access door,
quickly opened it a crack and listened, then passed through and closed it
almost silently behind her. She pounded up the first flight of stairs, then the
second and made her way out onto the roof. Rapidly, she took in her
surroundings; a wide avenue on the left and right leading to air conditioning
units and a small electrical substation respectively. Also, a path ahead that
led to the helipad. The helipad itself was raised up, with steps leading up to
it. Other than that, all Melissa could see was the waist high railing around
the edge, a couple of satellite dishes and an antenna with a light on the top
of it. There were no helpful signs indicating emergency supplies. Melissa
grabbed the radio.