The Zombie Virus (Book 1) (8 page)

I had been surviving on vending machine food,
which was nearly gone, and the generator only had forty-eight
hours’ worth of fuel, not enough time to accomplish any more major
tasks in my lab. I missed my family. I had been away from them too
long already.

Millions of people lived within fifty miles
of our home, most of whom would now be infected or dead. This meant
that home couldn’t be my final destination. I would stay there long
enough to gather my family and supplies and then move on. If not,
at some point we would be overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the
infected.

We owned a small, isolated farm high in the
mountains of southwestern Virginia that we used as a weekend
getaway. The population density there was low enough that we could
hopefully defend it indefinitely against these mindless animals. If
we could get there.

I conceded that it was time to go home and
get my family. At some point, I told myself, when things had
settled down, I could come back and finish my work. The lab would
still be here. I could bring in diesel for the generators. That had
to be my goal after securing my family. How long could the Loonies
survive? Maybe a year or two. Probably not even through their first
winter.

I had left my cell phone in the car. If I was
going to make a dash for the car with the Loonies wandering around
out there, I needed to secure the lab first and gather my
notebooks. I wasn’t planning on returning any time soon. It was sad
to think that all of my work may have been in vain. That there may
not be enough people left in this world to save. I had to
concentrate on my family now, keeping them safe and alive. Whatever
that took.

I also had to take care of the Loonies in the
isolation ward.

Back down in Level 6 I was horrified to see
that Sung was feeding on LTC Hanson’s body. Her neck had been torn
open and she had bled out. Sung was still at her side, thirstily
lapping up the blood pooled in the bed about her.

I turned away in disgust and went to the
panel that allowed for emergency decontamination of the facility. I
typed in my passcode and selected the option for the entire Level
6. I gathered my notebooks and the disk with the electron
microscope scans and on the way out of the lab selected the button
on the computer that started the countdown to the sterilization
event.

I had fifteen minutes to get to the elevators
and get my ass to the surface. Otherwise I would be locked down
here permanently. A computer generated voice warned that the
decontamination protocol was in effect and Level 6 decontamination
would begin in t-minus fifteen minutes.

The emergency lights began pulsing. I made my
way through the airlocks, unsuited, decontaminated, then dressed
and climbed into the elevator all in less than ten minutes.

Sung and the girl Loony would be dead
shortly.

CHAPTER 5

I had the Beretta in my hand when I exited the
Facility. Fear formed a cold, hard knot in my stomach at the
thought of what was waiting for me on the outside. I was leaving
the normalcy of my past life behind, forever.

I made a beeline for my car as soon as I was
out the door, pressing the remote unlock button on my keychain as I
bolted toward the parking lot. The car made its familiar double
chirp and unlocked the doors.

One of the Loonies, a dark-haired man with a
narrow face who I had seen in the street earlier, was now on the
grass strip between the parking lot and sidewalk. At the sound of
the doors unlocking it looked up at the car, then over to me. It
let out a loud, wailing growl and charged toward me at a fast run,
its filthy business jacket half off and trailing behind it like a
torn shadow.

Two of the others were further down the
street from when I had seen them an hour ago on the monitors, an
older man and a young woman, both in soiled business attire. They
turned at the sound and snarled like savage beasts when they saw
me. I almost expected them to drop to all fours as they ran in my
direction, emitting the same growling wail as the younger man.

My car was between me and them. I was
confident I would get there first if I could get past the Loony who
was rapidly closing the gap between us. I was running flat out,
trying to not let the terror rise up out of the pit of my stomach
and turn to panic. I had to be a different man now.

I could see the first Loony had the now
familiar manic bloodshot eyes and red-flecked spittle trailing in
streams from the corners of his mouth, his teeth bared in
preparation for attack. At twenty feet I raised the Beretta and
pulled the trigger twice. Two neat little holes from the 9mm slugs
appeared in his forehead and the back of his head exploded. He
dropped like a sack of concrete and rolled to a stop at my
feet.

Without altering my pace I jumped over him
and sprinted the last thirty yards to my car. I got in and slammed
the door just as the two other Loonies rammed into it. I tore my
briefcase off my shoulder and threw it on the seat next to me and
frantically hit the locks for the doors. The Loonies beat
mindlessly with their fists at the door, biting at me through the
window and covering it with a bloody froth. The woman tore three
fingernails to the quick as she pried at the door frame.

They continued with their unnervingly loud
wail. The man slammed his face into my side window in an attempt to
bite me through the glass, breaking off two of his incisors at the
gum line, and blood gushed from his torn lip.

He hit my window again with the full force of
his head and a small crack appeared in the glass, his nose erupting
in blood. With my hands shaking I tried to insert the key in the
ignition, but dropped them to the floor. Despite my best efforts,
panic rolled through my body like an earthquake. I shook
uncontrollably while I fumbled around the floor for the keys.

He hit the glass again and the woman climbed
up onto the hood, biting at the windshield. The crack in the side
window widened into little spider veins. I scrambled with my hand
to find the keys, grasped them, inserted the ignition key into the
slot and turned it all in one smooth motion. The engine caught
immediately. It was only then that I realized I had been adding to
the Loonies’ crazy chorus with my own screaming. The man hit the
window again and the safety glass turned opaque, his face looked
like bloody hamburger.

I jammed the transmission into drive and
slammed the gas pedal with my foot, squealing the tires as they
lost traction momentarily with the pavement. The car shot forward
and I spun the wheel to the right toward the exit.

The woman flew from the hood onto the
pavement and my Beretta flew off my lap onto the floor next to my
seat. It was then that I noticed more Loonies running toward the
parking lot from all points on the compass.

I turned onto the street, and a Loony was
there in front of me. I twisted the wheel to avoid him and clipped
him solidly with the fender. His leg caved in and his face hit the
side view mirror, shearing it from the car. I sped off down the
street dodging those who tried to attack the car. I looked in my
rearview mirror – there must have been a dozen of them racing down
the road behind me. They were everywhere, coming out of the
woodwork like maddened ants, drawn by the sound of the car as I
drove by.

I finally came to a place near the entrance
to the base under a line of poplar trees where there were no
Loonies. I stopped the car in the road with the engine running. My
hands were shaking uncontrollably and my heart felt like it was
going to beat itself through the wall of my chest.

I took several slow, deep breaths to try and
calm my racing heart and fished around on the floor until I found
the Beretta. I holstered it at my hip and then opened the center
console and retrieved my cell phone. It still showed a charge and a
signal. I knew most cell substations had generators in case of grid
power failure, although I didn’t know how long they had fuel
for.

I dialed my wife’s cell number as I checked
my rearview mirror for anything approaching the car. The line
connected.

“Holly, are you okay?” I cried when I heard
her voice.

She was. The Loonies were all over the
neighborhood, at least what of it she could see. She saw them
whenever she dared peek out through the window shades upstairs.
They had not attempted to get in, nor had they given any indication
that they sensed her and Jeremy were in the house.

I told her I was in my car, on the way home,
and would get there as soon as possible. I told her we needed to
make plans to get out of Dodge and to start getting the supplies
together that we would need to take to the farm in Virginia, to do
it quietly, and to stay armed at all times. I filled her in on what
had happened with me since I had talked to her last night. I sent
her and Jeremy my love and hung up.

I started up the road again and through the
main gate of the base. It was deserted. I turned right onto the
main thoroughfare heading north. The roadway was littered with
abandoned vehicles. Up ahead the entire three lanes southbound were
blocked by a large pileup that still emitted wisps of smoke. The
Loonies were all over, and converging rapidly on the sound of my
car.

When I rounded a stalled vehicle a young
infected girl ran unavoidably in front of me, I hit her squarely,
sending her into the windshield, cracking the glass on the
passenger side. My field of view was narrowing.

Three partially devoured bodies were in the
road ahead of me next to a minivan with its doors all open. Two
Loonies were huddled over the bodies. I gunned the car and it
rocked violently when it plowed over the dead and living alike. I
didn’t look back as I sped up the road.

There were scenes of utter devastation. A
strip mall and neighborhood were blackened ruins from a fire that
had raged uncontrolled. Fires still burned in many of the
buildings. My heart sank at the sight of so many infected milling
about everywhere I looked in numbers that were frightening. To be
uninfected and on foot would have meant certain death, or
worse.

I finally reached the bridge over the
Patuxent River. There were a few cars stopped on it, but no Loonies
that I could see. I worked my way up and over it. At the bottom two
cars had collided and lay sideways blocking both lanes. I only
hesitated for a moment then sped up and slammed my car between
their interlocked front ends ramming them out of the way.

Steam erupted from the hood of my car and the
front end wobbled violently. I drove for about another mile before
a metallic ‘ping’ reverberated loudly from the engine compartment
and the car screeched to a halt. I sat there for what seemed like
an eternity turning the key and willing the car to start up
again.

The heat of the day was invading the cab and
I was quickly soaked in sweat. I glanced over to my right at a
small strip mall a few hundred yards away and saw two Loonies that
were making their way at a quick walk toward my dead car. More
appeared from different directions.

I turned the ignition off and on. There was
only a weak ‘click’ from somewhere under the crumpled hood. I
looked around me – I had to get out before I was surrounded by a
mob of the insane. With the car sitting dead, their interest wasn’t
peaked enough to cause them to rush my car. I had a few seconds,
then I would have to be decisive. Once I was out and they caught
sight of me, it would be an entirely different ball game.

There was an abandoned car about fifty yards
ahead of me on the side of the road and a large Ford pickup another
fifty yards beyond that. If someone was sick and just couldn’t
drive any further and had to abandon their car, my hope was that
they hadn’t bothered to take their keys.

I grabbed my briefcase and slung it over my
shoulder, took a deep breath and tripped the door handle, throwing
it open. I got out running. From my peripheral vision, I saw the
two Loonies break into a sprint when they spotted me, joined by
about a dozen others further behind them. My ears were filled with
their wailing growl that grew louder as others joined in.

I ran like the hounds of Hell were descending
on me.

I was drenched in sweat when I reached the
car. I risked a quick glance behind me. They were maybe fifty yards
back. I grabbed the door handle of the car and hurriedly yanked it
open. I was about to jump in when the stench from the interior
reached me – a combination of shit, piss, and the sugary sweet
smell of the infected.

A blonde girl who must have been in her teens
was lying across the front seat looking severely dehydrated. An
emaciated arm sporting an array of colorful bracelets feebly
reached out to me. It snarled weakly, displaying a set of pearly
white teeth. It must have been trapped in the July heat of the car
for days without the intelligence to determine how to get itself
out. I kicked its hand back in and slammed the door, backing up in
horror.

The others were almost on me. I took off like
a shot up the road with the infected close on my heels. I could
almost feel them breathing down my neck as I sprinted toward the
truck. I could hear the sound of their shoe soles pounding on the
pavement very close behind me. It would be very close.

The Ford’s driver’s door hung open.

Something clawed at my back and grasped hold
of my shirt. I twisted and ran harder, and heard the fabric tear. I
had no time to draw my weapon, the only option was the truck.

I reached the pickup steps ahead of the two
growling creatures and dove into the passenger compartment, rolling
onto my back. They were on top of me through the door, pawing and
clawing their way up my legs, one on top of the other. I kicked
frantically, connecting with the gruff face of one man and driving
it out the door, the other was trying to bite my legs but I kept
kicking, denying it the chance.