Salvation: Secret Apocalypse Book 5 (A Secret Apocalypse Story) (15 page)

General Spears
was at one point the man in charge of containing the outbreak of the Oz virus.
And when the rest of the military abandoned this country, and left him to fend
for himself, he was the only military commander left. He was the only one who
could’ve saved the country. Saved the survivors. But instead of being a savior,
instead of being a hero, he turned into something evil and reprehensible. Like
I said, he had gone absolutely insane. It is crazy and difficult to think about
what humans are capable of.

I am about to
tell Ben that waging a war against the death squad is probably not a good idea.
But suddenly I hear a noise. A voice.

I feel someone
tap me on the shoulder.

I turn around.
But no one is there.

I hear Kenji’s
voice. “Everyone is in danger. You must believe me. I will come for you.”

The voice is so
loud and so clear that for a split second I think Kenji is standing right next
to me. But he is not.

My mind comes
back to my present surroundings and all of a sudden I am alone. Ben is nowhere
to be seen, and I am standing in Kenji’s cell.

I
feel weird. My whole body is aching. The fever is getting worse.

I am starting to shiver and my
brain isn’t working and I feel tired and lethargic and downright exhausted.

I’m trying to figure it all out.
I’m trying to understand. I’m trying to make sense of everything that Kenji has
written on the walls. But it is a mess. It is hard to read.

Journal entries.

Drawings.

Random words and random thoughts.

A couple of maps.

One of the Fortress.

Another one of the labyrinth.

Someone enters the cell but I
keep my eyes on the wall.

It is Anna. “The
doctor has some antibiotics for your fever,” she says. “He thinks that your
head wound might be infected.”

No. It’s not.

There is
something else giving me a fever. My body has realized there is a foreign thing
inside of it. It is trying to fight it. Fight the nano-virus. But it can’t. And
in less than forty-six hours, less than two days, I’ll be dead. My body will be
gone. Eaten. There will be nothing left of me.

I don’t say any
of this to Anna. She is only trying to help and I don’t want to scare her. I
don’t want to give her the impression that I am some sort of threat. Even
though I probably, definitely am.

No,
I will not be a threat.

I will not harm
these people. I will not harm anyone. I intend on being far away from here when
this countdown ends. When my time is up.

Anna moves up
next to me. She studies the writing. The drawings. “I know it’s hard,” she
says. “Losing the people you love. I’ve seen so much of it. Even before the
outbreak.”

“What do you
mean?”

“I worked on the
oncology ward. And I’ve worked in palliative care. I’ve seen so much of it. It
never gets easier. It is always hard.”

I stare at the
drawing of the gas mask. And I wonder if Kenji had seen the psychopath. Had he
spoken to him? Had he been tortured by him? Had he been injected with a time
release nano-swarm? Or maybe the gas mask was a warning. Maybe Kenji knew the
Oz virus had gone airborne.

“My mother was a
nurse,” I say. “She was in Sydney when it all went down. I never got to say
goodbye. I never got the chance to tell her how much I love her. How much I
appreciated her hard work. All the double shifts and night shifts. I never got
that chance because…”

Because no one
gave them a chance. They were written off. They were expendable.

This whole
goddamn country was expendable.

“I was in Adelaide when it
happened,” Anna says. “When it all began.”

She takes a deep breath because
those first days of the outbreak, those first days of the end of the world are
painful and scary and terrifying and full of death.

“They started bringing the sick,
the infected people in,” she continues. “They started bringing the dead in by
the truck loads. Only problem was they weren’t dead. Not really. And the ones
that were dead, they didn’t stay dead. The hospital became overrun. It happened
so fast. We were helpless. We were completely taken by surprise. No one warned
us. No one helped us.”

I know this is what my mother
experienced in her last days. And I know that Anna is telling me so I can get
some sort of closure.

And I want to thank her. For
everything. For staying behind at the hospital when the shit hit the fan. For
staying behind and trying to do the right thing, even though trying to do the
right thing was pointless.

I don’t get the chance to thank
Anna because
another
person enters the room. Again, I keep my eyes on the wall, on the writing.

It is an old
man.

A patient, old
man.

“Hello,
Rebecca,” the old man says.

I’m staring at
the walls and I wonder how the hell does the old man know my name?

His voice is
soothing, almost hypnotic.

I turn around.
And it is Doctor Hunter. In one hand, he has a small orange container with a
child proof lid full of antibiotics. His other hand is gone. Sawed off. A testament
and a reminder of human perseverance and survival instinct and adaptability.

Live or die.

Pure and simple.

Moments before
Doctor Hunter was thrown into this prison, General Spears had described the
doctor as a survivor. And I agree with the General’s assessment to a certain
extent.

But Doctor
Hunter is not just a survivor. He is a parasite. It’s like he poured some of
his own DNA into the killer virus he helped create.

He throws me the
antibiotics and they land on the small, single bed. “Take twice a day,” he
says. “Morning and night. Take with food. Or not. It doesn’t matter.”

Doctor Hunter is
standing in the entrance of the cell, refusing to come inside, refusing to come
any closer.

He doesn’t want
to read what Kenji has written. He doesn’t want to see the writing on the
walls.

I ask Doctor
Hunter about escape.

I ask him about
survival.

I ask him about
fixing this thing.

This thing.

A plague.

An extinction
level event.

An apocalypse.

But Doctor
Hunter does not answer my questions and he offers no solutions.

He looks at his
severed wrist. He touches the scars, the stump.

He has given up.

He sees my
watch. “That is a new watch.”

Doctor Hunter is
old but he has eyes like a goddamn hawk.

I say, “Do you
know who the man in the gas mask is?”

“He gave this to
you?”

“Yes.”

Doctor Hunter
finally enters the cell and he walks over to me and grabs my wrist and I let
him. He looks at the watch face.

The countdown.

“A countdown,”
he whispers. “Ominous. What does it mean?”

Nurse Anna is
still there and I don’t want to say what it means.

“She won’t tell
anyone,” Doctor Hunter assures me. “Patient confidentiality.”

“It’s OK,” Anna
says. “I’m not
gonna
tell on you. I’m not going to
say anything. Trust me, we need more females around here.”

“It’s a
countdown to an event,” I say.

“An event?”

“I have been
injected with a time release nano-virus. When this countdown expires, the
nano-virus will become active. It will eat me alive. From the inside. The
nano-virus will become a swarm.”

“I’ve never seen
a swarm up close,” Doctor Hunter says.

“You don’t want
to.”

“What’s a
swarm?” Anna asks.

“A nano-virus
swarm,” I answer. “Microscopic nano-bots. Designed and programmed to eat and
consume. They were supposed to eat the infection, eat the Oz virus and all its
hosts. The plan backfired. And now we have a new predator in the food chain.”

“Who did this to
you?” Anna asks.

“A man wearing a
gas mask. A psychopath.”

Again, I look at
the crude drawing of the gas mask on the wall of Kenji’s cell. It is just above
the drawings of the infected and the nano-swarms and the monsters.

“He has taken
Maria,” I say. “He is going to kill her. He is going to execute her on camera.
And show the world.”

Doctor Hunter is
silent.

“Do you know who
he is?” I ask.

“Yes. I do.”

“Who is he?”

“He is the
devil. He is Lucifer. He is the Angel of Light.”

“What?”

“He will show us
the error of our ways. He will show us all the possibilities. He will make us
all see. This is what the devil does. This is what the Angel of Light does. He
provides illumination.”

“Don’t give me
that bullshit. Who is he? Who the hell is he? Tell me!”

Doctor Hunter
lowers his head. He does not answer me.

And he does not
get the chance.

I see movement
in the corner of my eye.

I see the black
monolithic doorway to the labyrinth sliding open.

It is opening
silently.

Smoothly.

And unannounced.

The door to the labyrinth is open.

What time is it?

Is it six pm?

No. It can’t be.

These people are
too well prepared. They are too well organized. There’s no way everyone would still
be on the ground floor when that door opens.

Doctor Hunter
sees it. So does Anna.

“The door is
open,” Anna says. “It’s open early!”

In the distance
we can hear moans and howling screams. These noises are coming from the
darkness of the labyrinth.

We move out of
Kenji’s cell, looking for the others.

“What the hell
do we do?” I ask.

“We need to get
up to the top floor,” Anna says. “We need to go right now. We shouldn’t be down
here.”

Doctor Hunter
appears to be unnaturally calm. And I think to myself that he has definitely
given up. He has stopped caring. He is ready to die and he is not afraid.

Thomas and Harry
and everyone else have heard the noises coming from the labyrinth. They move
out of the cafeteria, unsure of what to expect.

“What the hell
is going on?” Harry asks.

“It’s open,”
Anna says. “It just opened. We need to go.”

Thomas can’t
believe it. He is backing away from the entrance to the labyrinth, backing away
to the fire escape.

“Why?” Harry asks as he checks
his watch.
 
“It’s early. It’s so early.
What the hell is going on?”

“We have to get back to our
cells,” Anna says.

Thomas points at
me. “You did this. You guys showed up. You changed everything! He wants you
dead. He didn’t care about us. But now you’re here and he wants you dead!”

“Who are you
talking about?” I ask.

“The General.”

“General Spears
is dead,” I say.

“Well, someone
opened the door. Someone is sending a message. Someone wants us dead.”

Someone
opened the door.

I can guess who
it was.

“We have to
move,” Thomas orders. “Into the cells. Now. Let’s go!”

Together, we all
make the painstakingly slow climb up the fire escape ladder. Each time Thomas
lowers one of the ladders so we can climb up, the metal makes an incredibly
loud and unnerving noise. Squeaking and squealing. The metal obviously hasn’t
been greased in a long time.

We continue to
climb as quickly as we can, and as quietly as we can.
Harry and Anna check and
re-secure the barricades on each level, making sure that no undead monsters can
make their way up the stairs.

“
This is not good,”
Harry says. “We usually do this while the door is closed. We’re making too much
noise. We’re making way too much noise.”

“Put a sock in
it,” Anna says. “We’re nearly done.”

Ben brings up
the rear. He is a few levels below us. He is crouching down with his shotgun
aimed at the darkness of the labyrinth entrance.

“Come on,”
Thomas says. “Move your ass!”

“Keep your
goddamn voice down,” Ben says.

After a few more
tense seconds, Ben reluctantly slings his shotgun over his shoulder and begins
the climb. As Ben climbs each level, he pulls up the fire escape ladder and
secures it in place, so nothing can climb up after us.

We finally reach
the top level. Everyone has moved off to their own cell. They are getting their
bed sheets ready to hang over the bars.

Thomas quickly
explains the rules of our new accommodation. “This is where we sleep. This is
how we survive. While the door to the labyrinth is open, you make no noise. Not
even a whisper. If you snore, don’t. And make sure you put a bed sheet over the
bars of your cell. You need to be completely hidden. Do you understand?”

Jack is trying
to move the door to our cell so he can close it. But it won’t budge. “Um, how
the hell do we close these bars?”

“I have to close
them,” Thomas says. “The doors are automated. One person sleeps in the control
room so they can shut the cells at night, and open the cells in the morning. We
take turns. It’s not so bad. The control room is basically as secure as one of
the cells. Basically.”

Another howling
scream echoes from the distance, from somewhere deep inside the labyrinth. We
look down at the ground floor of the prison.

Nothing. No
movement. No infected.

“They shouldn’t
be able to get through the barricade on the stairways,” Thomas adds. “But
still, I do not want to hear a single noise from you people. We don’t want to
take any risks. If you make noise, any noise, I will kill you myself.”

Jack, Kim and I move into the
nearest cell, and a few seconds later, Thomas closes the doors.

We hang a sheet up over the bars.

We hold our breath.

And we wait.