Omega Pathogen: Mayhem (7 page)

“Uh . . . I’m going to wipe my ass and then come back and get you to tell me what that thing is that you ran into the house with,” Jeremy says, relieved to see his dad.

Arzu puts her hand on Chris’s shoulder as a signal to let her pass. Chris moves to the side; she proceeds by until she is face to face with Jim. “Where is my car?” she asks with a tear tracing down her right cheek.

Arzu then punches Jim with a quick jab to his right bicep and then wraps her left arm around his neck and squeezes him tightly. Jeremy steps around to her right and takes the rifle from her right hand and she then places it around Jim, squeezing with both.

With a voice trembling from emotion, Arzu tells Jim, “You are so stupid. I love you very much but you are so stupid.”

“I can’t breathe very well, honey,” Jim says with a hint of strain to his voice. Releasing him from her embrace, Arzu asks again, “Where’s my car?”

“Look, I can go back and get it later. I have to anyway because I found some stuff we need and it’s all in the back of the car.”

“What is that thing you drove here?” Chris asks as he looks around Arzu to his dad.

With a large smile, Jim says, “Well, come upstairs and have a look out the window. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Kayra calls out from the top of the stairs, “I want to see, too.”

“Me, too,” Berk chimes in, standing one step above her. Arzu, Jim, Jeremy, and Chris climb the stairs, reaching their makeshift barricade; they remove some furniture and other items to facilitate a path. Jim bends and gives Berk and Kayra hugs. Both kids fan at their wrinkled noses and face. Jim stares at them with a confused expression.

“You smell like a clean toilet, Dad,” Berk blurts out, in the honest way that only young children can. “What are you talking about, Berk?” Jim asks, while beginning to stand.

Arzu emits a slight chuckle and explains, “Jim, you smell like some kind of cleaner, like chlorine or something. I noticed earlier, but was glad to see you and pissed about my car, so I forgot to ask.”

“Oh. Yeah, I stopped at the convenience store on the way back to make sure I was clean after I, um, was near the sick people. I also wiped down the inside of the MRAP with the wipes, too.”

“The M what?” Chris asks.

“It stands for Mine-Resistant Ambush Protected. It’s basically an armored truck, but with thicker armor and tapered underbelly to deflect blasts.”

“Well, come on and let’s check it out!” Jeremy says and starts up the stairs, passing the others. “Hold on, Jeremy. We need to block up the stairs again first,” Jim reminds.

After a brief few moments, the obstructions are back in place and they continue up-stairs to Kayra’s room for a better look.

Chapter 10

Present

Looking down from her window, they can see the top and part of the driver’s side of the MRAP in front of the garage. “It’s got a gun turret?” Jeremy asks with excitement in his voice.

“Well, yes and no, Jeremy,” Jim starts to explain. “It has a turret, but not a mounted weapon. The turret is good to give a higher field of view and does open, providing a good firing position. It has a few things we can use; a few more weapons and a grenade launcher.”

Both Chris and Jeremy turn their heads to face their father in an instant, both with large smiles. “No, guys; not that kind of grenade launcher. Well, it can fire the ones that explode, and others, but this one only has canisters that contain OC gas, Oleoresin Capsicum. That’s pepper spray in a grenade.”

“That’s still some cool shit,” Chris says quietly and looks to Jeremy, both grinning at each other. “What if those things get inside or on top of it?” Arzu asks, looking down at some of the infected beginning to amble around the neighborhood again after being driven away earlier by the massive truck.

“I locked all but the driver’s door, so it should be fine; it’s possible they could get inside, but so far we haven’t seen any of them have that kind of mental capacity. If they do climb on top of it, it’s too far away from where the roof extends for them to make it if they jump.”

“I’m going to clean up some more. After that, do you guys want to eat?” Jim asks, turning away from the window. The rest of the family follows and affirms their hunger as well.

During the family dinner on the second floor landing, Jim gives a very edited version of his trip outside. Arzu reluctantly admits that she sees the clear logic of the need for the MRAP instead of the Pathfinder. He gives his thoughts on how he thinks the SWAT team responded to the hospital to help the overtaxed police try to maintain order. But they, too, were apparently overrun.

Jim gives them all as much information and instruction on the armored vehicle as he knows. So when they do find themselves inside, moving about and operating it should flow a little more easily.

Jim hadn’t used the type of MRAP outside; he had ridden in and driven much older ones during part of his time in Iraq. Those he had most experience with were older South African versions. Jim did have a few tours of some of the newer U.S. military versions, when crossing paths on some of the bases and with some military friends he’d made. He occasionally got to operate portions of the systems and drive as well.

“So, has the plan changed?” Arzu asks.

“No, not really, honey; only for the good, anyway. We now have much more room for supplies and won’t be as cramped. We’re not going to be exactly driving around in a tank, but the protection we’ve gained having this is immeasurable”.

“How can we drive that beast off-road? It’s huge,” Chris says.

“It’s true it’s a beast, it’s also got four-wheel-drive, so that’s going to help a lot. Like I said, though, it is very top heavy and can tip easily. Tomorrow we’ll check things out and see about finally getting to some of the stores in the area.”

“We should all try to get some rest,” Arzu says.

“Since when did we start going to sleep when it is still daylight?” Jim questions.

“Since we’ve all become exhausted by worry and lack of sleep. Did you look at yourself in the mirror, Jim? You look like shit.”

“Babe, you know how to say the things that warm my heart,” Jim replies. “You’re right, though; we need to get some rest whenever we can. Chris and Jeremy, I’ll take the first watch. I have some things I want to think about and do some planning.”

With that, the family goes to their new normal sleeping areas. Jim stands, and both knees pop and crack in protest. The same noises are heard when he stretches his back.

Since the sun has passed its zenith, more of the infected take to the streets and yards, and enter houses through shattered windows, looking for food. Looking toward the northwest, Jim sees ominous grey-black clouds approaching. He’s curious as to what the infected will do during a storm.

Making his rounds on the second floor, he goes through scenarios in his mind and tries to plan for eventualities. He peeks out the windows from time to time to check the status of the storm system.

The sky turns black, not from the approaching storm system, but from the earth’s rotation. In the distance, Jim can hear faint rumbling of thunder. As he walks toward the back of the home, he hears Jeremy whisper his name.

Jim relates his estimation of even more infected in the area, and asks Jeremy to try to see how they react to the storm. He knows they feel cold; he’s seen them huddle together for warmth or curl up on their own. He’s wondering if they’ll fear the lightning or the thunder. Exhausted, Jim decides to try and rest. The thoughts racing through his mind seem to make sleep unattainable.

Suddenly Jim wakes, startled by an unknown noise. He’s immediately relieved when he identifies the sounds as his family talking, and opening and heating water to reconstitute the freeze-dried breakfast.

Jim saunters out of the game room on his way to the bathroom, stopping near the gathering of his loved ones. He gives his ‘good mornings’ and leans down and kisses Arzu on her cheek.

“I love you, but please go brush your teeth, honey.”

Jim obeys the request and continues on to the bathroom. After finishing, he joins his family for breakfast. They try to talk about ‘normal’ things until Berk and Kayra are finished with their food and leave to go play in the spare room.

The conversation then turns to more serious topics. Jim listens as Jeremy and Chris describe their observations of the infected last night, during the storm and after.

Chris had relieved Jeremy after the storm had stopped, and then only the cooler temperatures remained. Jeremy reports that the infected seemed to be frightened when there was a flash of lightning or the clap of thunder, but their fear immediately turned to anger. They looked for the source of the noise and chased in the direction they thought it came from.

He wasn’t able to hear due to the distance from the window and the noise of the rain, but Jeremy thinks they did their normal growling as well. Other than being startled and then incensed by the noise, they did try to avoid the cold rain by seeking shelter in the broken homes and under porches.

Jim listens as he sips his instant black coffee. He begins to lay out the plan for the day. “We’re going to do some training today. It’s impossible to have any target practice, but I think we’re all good as far as that goes.”

“What do you want to do, Dad?” Chris asks. “We need to train on small team tactics. We’re going to be going into stores and other buildings, looking for supplies, and we need to make sure we have our shit together.” Jim answers.

Chapter 11

Siberia, USSR 1974

   At the ground level of the remote facility, the soldiers do as ordered by Colonel Azarov, securing the helicopter’s large rotors with ropes tied to spikes and driven into the frozen earth. They hide it, attempting to prevent cold damage by covering it with white camouflage sheeting.

Other soldiers are quickly setting up camp in the large hangar: unfolding cots, setting up heaters, and stocking food stores transferred from the helicopters. Down at the lowest level of the facility, in the damp and cold, Colonel Azarov, Doctor Kosktov, and several other scientists remain outside the prisoner holding area.

They watch and record everything inside, using video recorders and taking notes. Alexi, the prisoner who hurriedly scaled the bars of the nearest cell, still lies atop, the only movement being his back rising and falling from respiration while lying prone.

It’s been several hours since he escaped the carnage below. His chest is becoming more painful, his sternum and the front portion of his ribs are pressed against the hard metal cell bars. He’s too terrified to attempt to reposition.

Below him on the cold and blood-smeared concrete floor lie the men who had become his friends in the seemingly endless time they’d been held here by the state. Only two are still alive now. All but one has been massacred by two of their own.

One of the two that had somehow been changed into crazed animals by their captors, viciously unleashing death on them all, squats in a corner. The other of the lunatics is dead, along with all but one of the other prisoners. The remaining prisoner lies against the cell wall, slumped over, and periodically takes a desperate gasp of breath.

The slumped-over man doesn’t seem to have long to live; it surprises Alexi he’s continued so long. His body is filled with holes from bites and hands ripping flesh away. Beside the sickly smell of iron from the spilled blood, the rank odor of loosed bowels is heavy in the air as well.

The stench of the air makes breathing even more laborious, combined with his painful sternum and ribs. Alexi tries to take his mind off his situation, closing his eyes; he tries to relax by trying to control his breathing. He lies there on top of the metal cell with his eyes closed, and suddenly stops breathing, an unconscious reaction to the growl from the crazy prisoner below.

Alexi opens his eyes and looks toward the prisoner who attacked the rest. He notices the crazed man is on his feet and glaring at the wounded man slumped against the cell below. He also notices the wounded man is looking up at him, reaching for him with his right arm weakly extended. The wounded man then begins to call him in a weak, breathless, hoarse voice, “Alexi.”

Alexi looks back at the infected man, and notices his view shifts between the injured man on the floor and up at him. Alexi hears more growling from the infected man, who suddenly sprints to the man lying on the floor, who is begging for help from Alexi, and tears into him with his teeth and pummels him with fists.

There’s silence now, except for the sound of Alexi’s quick and shallow breathing. The infected man stares at the now-dead man who had been clinging to life, leaning against the bars. He seems to be inspecting him.

The infected man sits, straddling the dead man’s lap and lower abdomen. Alexi uses almost all of his remaining determination and strength to keep from vomiting when he witnesses the infected prisoner lean down and lick at the blood from the dead man’s wounds.

The infected bites part of the dead prisoner’s drooping bottom lip and part of his cheek. Shaking and emitting a low, deep growl, it rends the flesh from its proper place on the mutilated dead man’s face with a few violent shakes of its head.
It’s like a feeding beast,
Alexi thinks and squeezes his eyes closed tightly, again focusing on preventing his fear from attracting attention.