Omega Pathogen: Despair (2 page)

After breaking out the windows, Jim removed the bag of rope from his back and secured an end to the center support of the window frame. Jim then lowered the bag of rope of the edge and the rope extended as the bag dropped toward the over-grown grass below.

Jim was already wearing a rappelling harness and broke the news to Royce when the man pointed to the harness and asked, “where’s mine at?” As Jim tightened his straps he replied, “you don’t have one. You’re going to strapped to me and you’ll need to hang on.” Jim removed his belt for his thigh-holster. Stowing the holster in his backpack along with the pistol. He then extended the length of the belt and added his leather belt holding his pants to increase the length further.

The most difficult maneuver was getting out the window while the two men had their fronts pressed against each other. Both Jim and Royce begin to sweat heavily during the descent. Jim because the exertion of fighting to keep them both from falling to their death. Royce because his fear of heights and his death-grip on Jim.

Finally, with more than a slight impact they reached terra forma. Jim fumbled around to release the belt holding them together. His arms shook from the strain he endured. Once unattached, they both collapsed to the grass and lay on their backs breathing heavy and staring up at the window and exterior of the hospital they had just emerged from.

Their short rest was over when Jim stood and extended his hand to assist Royce to his feet. Taking the hand, Royce rose and thanked hi. “My brother still get’s some of your blood, you know that, right?” Jim said and stared hard at Royce. “Yes he does,” Royce answered and handed Jim his two belts. “Your drawers are falling down, Jim. Better get one of these back on.”

After donning both belts, his thigh-holster, Jim re-holstered the Glock. Jim pointed Royce toward the direction of the parked MRAP around the corner from their location.  As they walked, they quietly talked while both had their heads on a swivel. The sun was nearly set so Jim encouraged Royce to pick up the pace to a jog. They neared the corner of the building and rounded the corner. Royce Jim looking around wide-eyed. “What’s wrong?” Royce asked. Jim didn’t answer, he continued to look around. He knew this had been the spot and he doesn’t know why or how. His family and the MRAP are gone.  

Chapter 1

The two stood where Jim knew the MRAP had been parked. His attempts to reach anyone on the radio headset had been in vain. Checking over his comms, he discovered his radio was gone. Only the earpiece and microphone remained. When attacked by infected inside, one of them had apparently ripped his radio from its mount located on his back above his left scapula.

Jim noticed two charred marks after a closer examination of the area where the MRAP had last been seen. Shards of glass spread in and around the scorched pavement. It was approaching dusk. Shelter had to be found immediately; then he could think about finding his family. Jim decided on the top level of the parking structure.

It was far from perfect, but the top level of the four-story parking area was the highest defensible position. The negative aspect was, it also was in the open, but the infected could only ascend from two directions. If they stayed quiet and out of sight, maybe they could make it through the night. They lay near one another, prone on the concrete surface of the top level. Its warmth from soaking up the sun’s heat during the day was welcomed in the cool evening, but it would only be a short respite until the ambient temperature drop chilled it. They remained mostly quiet, only whispering occasionally to point out the possible approach of the infected. Jim and Royce each took one of the two access ramps as their primary point to watch for approaching infected.

The full moon’s brief appearances from behind the clouds supplied intermittent periods of light to see the possible approaches. If they were discovered by infected, they could only put up a brief fight. One magazine of ten rounds was left in the Glock, and they had a full AR-15 magazine of thirty rounds.
It won’t be much of a fight
, Jim thought. He did have two more flash-bang grenades left, though no more
oleoresin capsicu
m
gas grenades, but with rain coming the effectiveness would be limited outdoors.

“Here, you should have something to defend yourself with,” Jim said, and handed his pistol to Royce.

Royce turned toward Jim, took the pistol and said, “Thanks.” Royce pulled the slide back and checked for himself that the pistol had a round chambered, then ejected the magazine and tried to count the rounds in the dim light.

Jim noticed Royce’s actions and reconfirmed what Royce had likely found, “Only ten rounds,” Jim said.

“Okay,” Royce whispered and as quietly as possible replaced the magazine in the Glock.

Around 2:00 AM the rain stared. Not a major downpour, but combined with the temperature in the mid-fifties, it was enough to chill them to the bone. Jim and Royce positioned themselves on their sides, each facing a ramp leading to the top level. Throughout the night, the light but persistent cold showers saturated Jim and Royce’s clothing. Despite being scared and freezing, both were exhausted and feared they’d fall asleep. Periodically, each one would begin to succumb to his exhaustion. Suddenly his eyes would spring open to look for imminent attack, not knowing for certain if he’d actually fallen asleep, not knowing how long he had closed his eyes. 

Lying on the roof of the parking garage with a complete stranger in the cold and rain, in no real defensible position should the infected take notice of them, Jim’s thoughts were still on his family. He considered different scenarios that would have caused them to leave. None were good. He wished the night would pass more quickly; the minutes seemed like hours. He also hoped that tomorrow’s sun was bright enough to keep the infected away. He continued to take mental notes of several vehicles in the area. He ran different plans in his mind to escape the top of the parking garage when the chance presented itself —
if
the chance presented itself. He wondered if any of the vehicles in the area would even start if they could make it to one. 

Royce quietly turned and whispered near Jim’s ear, “They feel the cold, too.”

Jim turned his head and torso toward Royce and followed the direction of Royce’s gaze. The infected in the area were gathered in packs of three to ten, some more. They stayed close enough to each other that they were almost always touching. Even in the poor lighting, it also appeared that almost all shivered from the cold. Royce was right; they were affected by the cold, but Jim knew that already from observing the infected. Not to risk unnecessary noise, Jim quietly replied, “I see,” and ended the conversation there.

The sound of a distant gunshot was followed by several more in staggered cadence.  Suddenly, the infected ran and loped in the direction of the gunfire. Hopeful he would have an opportunity for escaping the top of the parking structure, Jim began to slowly move up onto his hands and knees and away from Royce to better see. Then the sounds of shoes and bare feet smacking pavement, growing louder, caused him to duck down and freeze. He could only see a few, but many infected were heard running nearby, in the direction of the noise. The sounds of their footfalls, heavy breathing, and deep raspy growls gave indication of large numbers near Jim and Royce’s position that they could not see.

As the moon’s glow was replaced by that of the rising sun, the overcast skies and continued drizzle of rain prevented the glare of the new day’s sun from causing much noticeable reaction from the infected in the area. The seemingly endless night was finally over, but the dim sunlight now offered them little hope. The muted light of the day also hadn’t offered them warmth yet. Jim and Royce still lay on the cold, wet concrete structure and hoped the sun would break through the clouds to warm them and thin the numbers of the infected nearby. As the light fought through the twilight and then grey clouds, the infected dissipated. They slowly disappeared into the darkness of the interior of the hospital and surrounding buildings, which became more visible as the sun’s rays began to cut through.

The rain stopped and the sun eventually broke all the way through. The clouds cleared, but left a cold day, with wind chilling Jim and Royce more. “Do you have a vehicle here?” Jim asked Royce, with cold and exhaustion slurring his voice.

“Uh huh,” Royce muttered back in reply, reaching his left hand down and patting the left front pocket of his soaked scrubs.

Hearing the faint sound of the keys in Royce’s pocket was a wonderful sound to Jim.

“I parked my truck in the front parking lot,” Royce whispered through chattering teeth, and slowly rose from lying on his right side to sitting with legs crossed on the concrete.

Jim and Royce sat back to back with arms and legs crossed. Both men shivered from the cool breeze and their wet clothes. As during the night before, that had seemed to have dragged on forever, they heard sporadic gunshots. This time, the reports of gunfire were more distant. Only a few of the infected came into view during the daylight; some of the infected headed to the sounds of the gunfire, while most headed into dark buildings and out of the increasingly bright day.

Around 8:30 that morning, Jim and Royce confirmed that neither had seen any infected for about twenty minutes. They decided to stay put for a little longer before venturing off the parking structure.

After another few minutes, Jim began to stand with some difficulty, his joints stiffened by the cold and by remaining motionless for so long. “Well, what do you say we see if we can make it to your truck?” Jim said.

“Okay,” Royce replied and stood upright, as equally slow and stiff as Jim.

Seeing their movement hadn’t seemed to have brought with it the attention of any infected, Jim and Royce began to walk off the parking structure toward the ramp in the direction of the front parking lot. Both men descended with an unsteady walk; they were both in their mid-forties and had lain on cold wet concrete for hours.

“I hope your truck’s heater works,” Jim mumbled to Royce as they walked.

“It did a few weeks ago, when I came in to work overtime because of this fucking plague,” Royce replied.

Neither man looked directly at the other; both were looking around for infected as they walked down the ramp to the third level of the parking structure.

Unlike the fourth level they had spent the night on, the third level had many areas partially concealed in shadow. Both men’s posture changed and their pace slowed as they readied themselves to react to threats.

Jim brought his AR-15 up to the ready position, the muzzle following his eyes. Royce walked on Jim’s right and did the same with the Glock.

Jim, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention with the low ammunition available, refrained from turning on the light mounted on his rifle’s foregrip. He kept his thumb on the switch, ready to use it the instant a threat presented.

The men remained tense and didn’t speak until they made it to the bottom level and out into the sunlight. Relieved to be out of the structure, both men breathed easier and picked up their pace toward the front lot.

Chapter 2

Although out from the shadows of the parking structure, other shadows on ground-level offered possible hiding places for infected, a wide berth was given to those areas. Still present were the intermittent sounds of gunfire in the distance. At one point during their march to Royce’s truck, Jim couldn’t decide if he had imagined the distant sound of engine noise or if it had been real. Constantly on his mind, the real or imagined sounds made him more concerned for the safety of his family. The first priority was transportation, and then he could finally begin to search for his loved ones.

Jim and Royce rounded the corner of the hospital, and the parking lot they were headed came into view. Every parking space was filled, and numerous other vehicles were parked haphazardly in and around the lot. Remains of people that were victims of the infected occupied some of the automobiles. Others bodies in late stages of decomposition lay scattered throughout the area. Crows and vultures had begun to gather in the morning light to resume their feasting on the corpses.

Royce stopped walking and said, “There,” in a voice elevated with excitement, as he pointed ahead and to the left of their position.

Startled by the word and its volume, Jim immediately went to a crouched position, brought his rifle up to the ready, and aimed in the direction Royce had pointed.

“There’s my truck,” Royce added, and began to walk forward again. Royce looked to his right, and then a few feet behind him. He saw Jim, who’d stopped and was now rising from a crouched position.

As Jim stood he exhaled loudly through his mouth and stared angrily at Royce for a couple of seconds. The reason for his anger quickly dawned on Royce.

“Sorry, Jim. Mine’s the dark green Ford up there,” Royce said and pointed again at the vehicle.

As they approached the dark green Ford pickup truck, Royce reached into his pocket and retrieved his keychain and unlocked the doors with the remote.

Jim stopped, squatted, and checked the underside of Royce’s truck and the other vehicles parked close by.

“They hide under cars?” Royce asked as he looked down at Jim and noticed his visual inspections. Royce stepped away from his truck and leaned down to look under the nearby vehicles. Seeing no infected lying in wait, “They’ve done it before,” Jim answered and stood upright. The men crossed the rest of the short distance to the truck and climbed inside.