RAGE (Descendants Saga (Crisis Sequence One)) (23 page)

Garth searches for the remote, but can’t locate it.

By the time he comes back into the back room frustrated, Cassie already has the television on. Each time she squints her eyes, the channel on the flat screen changes up or down. Holly sits at a table with her, waiting for a news channel. When Cassie comes across images of London in chaos, police helicopters, and army insurgents, she knows they have what they need.

Garth sits down at the table next to the ladies. The reporter read
s from a statement issued by the Prime Minister. Scenes of panic and scurrying evacuees fill the background behind the reporter as the statement is read.

Holly not
ices the mention of a military quarantine in effect for the entire city of London. However, a zone of inclusion is set that includes all of Central London, as well as other areas in an expanding radius from the first hospital attack in Paddington. Tube, rail, and air services are suspended indefinitely.

As Holly expects, civilians
were evacuated. A warning also stands in effect. Anyone remaining in the zone of inclusion beyond the first 72 hours will be shot on sight, as efforts strengthen to eliminate the infected before London is totally lost to the voracious spread of this disease. As indicated by the reporter, that 72 hour deadline expired yesterday.

“That explains why they tried to kill us,” Cassie says.

“And it means they won’t stop trying,” Garth points out. “Even a normal looking person could be infected but not turned yet. They won’t take any chances, as bad as this has gotten.”

Holly nods. “I might as well be honest with you two,” she begins reluctantly. “We’re not going to be rescued, at least not anytime soon.”

The two teens sit still, listening.

“That means we’re going to have to find some place more secure. All of these windows—well, it’s bound to become a problem. It would be better to find a place with plenty of food and other items we might need for a long stay.”

They nod together.

“How long?” Garth asks reservedly.

Holly pauses, trying to keep tears out of her eyes. “I really don’t know. It all depends on whether this can be stopped. Jonathan was our hope for a cure. I can only pray Agent Smith was able to get him out.”

“And if he didn’t?” Cassie asks. “What happens then?”

“I don’t know,” Holly replies.

“
London will fall,” Garth says indignantly.

Cassie looks at her with pleading eyes.

“You might be right,” Holly says to Garth in reply. “Maybe not. However, if this does get worse, we will probably lose power. So, we’ll stay here tonight and then try to scout out a better place tomorrow. If this pub has a wireless connection, we can use my cell phone to search for possibilities.”

“You never told us what this has to do with Jonathan,” Garth says. “Why is he the hope for a cure?”

Holly sighs, “Because, as far as we know, he is the initial source of the outbreak.”

“But he isn’t one of those things,” Cassie reasons.

“He doesn’t know how, but he is a carrier,” Holly says. “From what I’ve seen, Jonathan cannot contract the actual disease.”

“How do you know?” Garth asks.

“He was bitten by one of them,” she says. “He never became symptomatic. In fact, the wound healed a few minutes later on its own. No scar, no trace it was ever there.”

“Is that why Dr. Albert recruited him for our program?” Cassie asks.

“Because of his healing and his strength,” Holly admits. “At the time, we didn’t even know there was a virus.”

Garth looks angry.

Cassie seems unsure what to think.

“It’s not his fault, Garth,” Holly says.
“He didn’t know until the boy who attacked him at his school contracted the disease and went mad.”

Garth says nothing. He doesn’t appear mollified by the news.
A silence hangs in the air, as the news report continues with more of the same. London’s turmoil, as well as fears from other nations about the potential for a global pandemic are the only topics mentioned.

“Well,” Holly finally says, trying to sound as cheerful as possible, “what do you say we all go and raid the kitchen?”

“When in doubt, feed our faces?” Garth muses.

Holly grins. “Something like that.”

Tomb Raiders

Scott Bishop
waits in the dark inside the locker room of Laboratory One. He sits on the narrow bench, wearing scrub clothes from the rack on the wall. He leans his head against a metal clothes rod, taken from an adjoining storage room.

Why would they do something so foolish?
Bishop wonders.

He
saw the shared fate of his colleagues, Keigel and Asher. The two virologists were unwilling to wait with him while he searched for a weapon to help them get to the front vestibule safely. The two men went through the door out of the lab, leaving him behind. Then the lights went out everywhere.

Bishop made it to the door in time to see the two doctors running toward a group of men in shadow. The men had been in formation—one clue they were military in nature. Not wanting to be left behind in the rescue effort, Bishop had just opened the door to follow.

That’s when gunfire erupted in the corridor. Both Keigel and Asher ran toward a team of men who were probably expecting zombies in the dark. The soldiers reacted instinctively, cutting them down.

As shots ricocheted from the walls, Bishop slammed the door shut, ducking back inside to save himself.
He hit the ground in the locker room. In the corridor, Keigel and Asher dropped to the tile floor quite dead.

Bishop couldn’t wait here. He had to yell to the soldiers so they would know he was there. He didn’t want to be left behind in this hellish nightmare.

However, as he went to open the door again, the same suppressed gunfire came again down the hall. Bishop cracked the door open, realizing they weren’t shooting down his way. What he saw, caused his heart to sink in his chest.

The soldiers were shooting into one group of zombies, but another
ran up behind them unnoticed. Even as he attempted to shout a warning over the gunfire, the first few soldiers were attacked and pulled out of the line. A moment later, the crowd of hungry predators engulfed the last of the seven men. Bishop closed the door hastily and locked it.

Two hours later
, he is still unsure what to do. He can’t remain here. He will starve to death, at the very least. Going out there to scrounge for food will be worse.

Something catches his eye in the dark. A red light
, up high near the ceiling, blinks. Bishop realizes this light is a power indicator for one of the cameras. He stands, walking closer to the mount in the corner.

The main power is still out, but the camera is functioning. He did not notice the light earlier. He moves sideways. The camera follows him and stops. Curious, he repeats the maneuver. The camera follows his movement again and then stops again.

“Someone is controlling it,” Bishop says to himself. “But there’s no one here to do it.”

An idea dawns. Bishop walks back from the locker room to observation window that overlooks the lab. He can see Angela Sayers’ face on his computer monitor. He looks back at the camera that has followed him again to the window. Then he looks back to the monitor in the lab.

Text types across the screen in big letters as he watches.

Come Here, Bishop!

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he says happily.

Bishop races back to the suiting room, quickly donning a dry safety suit. Even with the main power out, the lab systems work. He can get back in.

Donning the suit, he makes his way to the labs double door entrance. He keys his pass code and the first door unlocks, allowing him inside a small chamber. Here he waits for the first door to close automatically. The seal hisses, as it expands in the doorframe.

Bishop keys in the his secondary code to be used only on this door. It unlocks
, and he opens it to enter into the lab environment again. He hears the negative airflow, as he walks through.

The door closes behind him automatically, as Bishop makes his way to an air line. Hooking the line into his suit, he walks tethered to his computer monitor. He now hears the voice of Angela Sayers, as he comes into view of the webcam.

“Mr. Bishop,” she says, “I’ve been trying to get your attention for the better part of an hour.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says. “Sorry, ma’am. We’ve had a bit of a problem. The main power is out right now.”

“My team, Mr. Bishop. Have they arrived?”

Bishop sighs. “They did arrive,” he says. “However, they killed the two other scientists who were with me earlier.”

“I don’t understand.”

“My colleagues ran out of the lab, just as the main power went out,” Bishop says. “I believe your men must have mistaken them for some of the infected roaming the corridors.”

“I see,” Angela says. “I’m sorry, that’s very unfortunate. Where are Agent Divine and his team now?”

“They’re dead, ma’am,” Bishop reports nervously. “The
creatures
killed them soon after the gunfire began.”

This news brings a weary expression to Sayers. “I see,” she says.

“Ma’am,” Bishop says, “I’m all alone in here. The creatures are everywhere. The entire compliment of employees must be turned now.”

“Hold tight, Mr. Bishop,” Sayers says. “I have a plan to get you out of there. I’m going to require your full cooperation. I’ll need all information pertaining to this virus and Patient Zero. In addition, I want every bit of footage from the lab that shows the Russian agent’s movements. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bishop replies. “I’ll compile the files for you and have them waiting, but when will you arrive?”

“I’m putting together a team,” Sayers says. “When we are ready, we will come to get you.”

“Begging your pardon, ma’am,” Bishop says, his eyes looking out the windows, seeing shadows beyond in the dark corridors, faces smashing into the soundproof glass. “Your first team was slaughtered by the creatures here. There must be nearly one hundred of them.”

“Believe me, Bishop,” Sayers assures him, “I understand the numbers we’re dealing with. As I said, I’m putting a special team together. In the meantime, you must remain in the lab. You must remain suited and connected to your air line.”

“Ma’am?”

“Are you familiar with sarin gas, Mr. Bishop?”

“Of course,” he replies. “But the method of delivery leaves me wondering.”

“The Tombs was constructed so that we could remotely cleanse the lab, if such an emergency occurred to warrant the need.”

“I’m familiar with the air fuel method in place as a failsafe, in case we have a deadly contagion leak threatening the city.”

Sayers smiles. “Well, what you d
o not know is we also have a way to fill the entire laboratory complex with sarin gas. I understand its ineffectiveness against your viruses and such, but it will kill people expertly. And these things running rampant in London are still human.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bishop replies. “Excuse me, but did you say, these things are running rampant throughout
London?”

Sayers gives him a
dark look. “I’m afraid isolation in your lab has left you without news of our situation. Apparently, one of the original victims from the St. Mary’s attack was not recovered. They slipped through the cracks somehow, and now an epidemic has resulted, Mr. Bishop. You might find yourself safer locked away in your lab.”

Bishop swallows hard against the lump in his throat.

“Nevertheless, I need you on my team. You’re the only one I have left alive who knows anything about the virus we’re dealing with.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bishop says. “I’ll get busy with the data we’ll need while I wait.”

“Very good, Mr. Bishop,” Sayers says. “Hold tight and keep your suit on.”

Sayers issues a command that Bishop can no longer hear through his monitor. Within seconds, jet nozzles come down from the ceiling of the lab. Just another item that Bishop never really considered, supposing they must be a part of the fire suppression system. Evidently not.

Gas begins to spray from the jets at high velocity. The gas is invisible, but Bishop hears the pressure at the nozzles. He imagines deadly sarin gas filling the room around him. Without his biological safety suit, he would already be dead.

Bishop’s eyes gloss over his monitor, roaming through file listings and video feeds accessed from the mainframe. He begins to pull files names and load them into a portable database—a 32 gigabyte jump drive that should hold what they will need. He lets the computer do its work, as he stands.

He looks out the lab windows toward the corridors branching out beyond. In the darkness, beyond the glass that is much tougher than merely bulletproof, Bishop watches as figures swirl and dance, shadows in motion. However, he knows this is only an illusion. Beyond the lab, bathed in deadly sarin gas, all of his former colleagues working in the Tombs—transformed into hideous, bloodthirsty monsters during the past few hours—are dying.