Omega Pathogen: Mayhem (19 page)

Straightening and taking a step back, the Colonel aims his AK-47 at the door and says, “Open it.” Levenon moves quickly and pulls the rusted door open, its squeal nearly as loud as before. They're met with the sight of several wounded and dead soldiers. Someone has opened the small personnel doorway to the outside. Snow and wind howls through the opening.

Colonel Azarov runs to the door and checks outside. He motions for the doctors to hurry and join him. “We head for the center helicopter,” the Colonel says and exits the storage hangar with the doctors in tow.

They reach the center helicopter and, as instructed by the colonel, remove the large camouflage protective tarpaulin. The colonel had entered the helicopter as soon as they reached it and hurriedly begins going through pre-flight checks.

As the two doctors climb in, they secure the virus samples and documents with personnel harnesses. They then buckle themselves in and await takeoff.

The rotors begin to slowly turn. Slowly they build up speed until they’re a blur. After a few more seconds they lift off and bank to the right.

Colonel Azarov constantly checks his watch. He knows they don’t have much time to reach minimum safe distance. He hopes to at least be behind the next low mountain ahead and to his left.

Just as their helicopter begins to make a left turn to put the mountain between themselves and the facility, a blinding light fills the interior of the cockpit and personnel compartment.

Alarms begin to sound and then are silenced by the sound of a roar from the small exploding star behind them.

The entire tail boom is sheared off from the blast wave. The helicopter is spun counter-clockwise. Mercifully, the centrifugal force causes the three men to black out before the helicopter strikes the side of the mountain and bursts into flames.

The force of the spin also ejects the poorly secured cryogenic storage container. It lands in a snowbank below and will be found in a month, after an extensive search by the Soviets. 

Chapter 32

Present

Thousands of them. Thousands of the infected come into view as they crest a small hill, their appearance like that of ants from the distance between the MRAP and their masses.

They’re converging on an area that remains out of view because of the vast numbers of the horde and the patches of mist and fog from the humidity. Jim has Jeremy stop the MRAP.

He climbs out of the turret and stands atop the vehicle to get a better view. Using the binoculars, he searches ahead of the mass of infected that are in various stages of closing in. Some are sprinting. Some are limping slowly, and others trot along. But all head to the same point.

Finally, Jim catches a glimpse. He’s overheard by those below in the MRAP saying, “God help them.” Climbing back down into the MRAP and sealing the turret, Jim looks to Jeremy and says, “Turn us around, son. We need to double back and put some distance between us and them.”

Jeremy begins to maneuver the MRAP, going forward slightly, then veering to the right and then back to the left, making a U-turn in the shallow overgrown median.

Jim explains that what seems like a recently erected military base is being overrun by the infected. The thick and tall concrete T-Walls they used are being climbed by the mass of infected like ants crawling on top of each other. Any hope of giving assistance would likely mean the death of all in their group, and the likelihood of a bombing mission to try to save the military and possibly civilians trapped inside could cause the group to become collateral damage.

They make their way slowly to the north of the gathering, taking themselves more off their planned route. The sky clears as they travel and the temperature drops into the 40’s. Although the sky has cleared, time has passed and the sun is near setting. They top off their fuel from two semi-tractor trailers.

Pushing a few more miles north after fueling, they then turn south again and look for a place to stop. Once they settle on a location, Jim informs them that he wants to push a little further through the night. After they eat, he’ll nap and then drive some more without headlights, using the NVGs. He explains he’ll have to take it slowly because of driving without headlights. Even with night vision optics, it’s difficult to judge depth and distance as well as with light.

Everyone eats and Jim tries to nap. Chris takes first watch since Jeremy had been the last to drive. The rest of the occupants all drift off to sleep as well.

Chris hears his dad moving around and reports a few sightings but like before, if the vehicle isn’t moving or making noise, the infected pass it by. Only a few nearer ones give it more than a cursory inspection.

With a pat on his son’s back as he passes Chris stepping from the turret platform, Jim takes the driver seat. Waiting for Chris to get settled down on his air mattress, Jim then dons his NVGs, lets his eyes adjust and starts the MRAP.

Pulling away and heading south to the Georgia-Florida line, Jim thinks of his mother and the rest of his family. He wonders if they’re alive, of course. He hopes to be able to try and find Chris and Jeremy’s mom, Linda, as well. That task seems almost insurmountable. They’re almost on their sixth day of travel when it normally would take around fourteen hours to Florida from his home in Texas.

Florida to California seems to be an unreachable distance in these times.

Not realizing so many hours had already passed; the glow of the pre-dawn sun shows itself on his left to the east. The occupants in the back begin to stir and soon there’s talking. Jim removes the NVGs as the sun breaks the horizon and the light turns from the pre-dawn twilight to orange-red. Jim announces he’ll stop as soon as he sees a good place for the bathroom break he and everyone else surely needs.

Finally, after longer than he and everyone else would like, he finds a suitable area and comes to a stop on a small hilltop. Jeremy stands on the platform and opens the turret and says, “You go ahead, dad. You’ve been up driving all night.”

Not arguing, Jim makes his way past Jeremy’s feet as he stands in the turret, and over the air mattresses on the floor.

Reaching the back of the MRAP, Jim begins to feel the urge to urinate become even stronger. It seems the closer he gets to releasing his bladder, the more the need increases. Jim goes to the passenger side of the vehicle and, after a brief fumbling with his zipper, is able to extract himself and begins the pleasure of releasing his long held urine-filled bladder.

“Contact right. Two infected coming fast,” Jim hears Jeremy yell and then three muffled shots from his son’s AR-15 ring out from atop the MRAP.

He looks up to see one of the infected has fallen. The other is heading straight towards him with a snarling and salivating mouth, its large bare and cosmetically enhanced breast bouncing as it reaches out to him.

Jim unholsters and brings his Glock up and fires four shots in quick succession, and twists to his left as the young infected woman grasps his shirt and emits a deep and primal wet growl. The infected woman falls facedown, issues a single exhalation and lies still. Looking around for any others and seeing none, Jim holsters his Glock. Jeremy exits the back of the MRAP, having been relieved by Chris.

“Sorry, dad. I got the first one but she moved below my line of sight before I could get her”, Jeremy says.

“It’s OK, Jeremy. Thanks for the heads-up. Good job.” Jim hears Jeremy begin to chuckle and turns from searching nearby brush for more infected to look at his son. “What?” Jim asks with a grin. Jeremy points down and says, “Put the horse back in the barn, Dad. And you pissed all over yourself.”

Jim looks down and places himself back in his pants. And he observes that he did in fact piss all over himself.

After moving the bodies and Jim changing his pants, they eat and get back on the road, stopping a few hours later to siphon diesel. Around noon, they enter into Florida on 441. Traveling between Cypress Creek and Benton Conservation areas, they continue south. After agreeing to risk taking I-75 in hopes they can increase their speed, they decide to pick it up when they have the opportunity near Lake City.

They’ve also decided they’ll try to continue driving until they reach Jim mother’s home in Gainesville. Jim and Chris try to nap, since they’ve recently had the least amount of sleep. Arzu takes the wheel for now and discusses with Chelsea how to operate the large armored vehicle. Jeremy’s perched on the turret platform keeping watch, and Berk and Kayra argue over what color to use for a character in a coloring book.

Smoke is visible in the distant east in the area of Jacksonville. In various other points of the compass, plumes of smoke also rise.

Jeremy realizes that things have progressively worsened since the infection. He wonders if and when things will improve. He hopes things things would at the very least stabilize and stop spiraling down the toilet.

Jim and Chris are awakened when low flying helicopters streak overhead. The direction seems to be toward the northeast. The general direction of Jacksonville, which, he’s now aware, seems to be burning.

Arzu stops, and they all reluctantly allow Chelsea to take control of the MRAP. Arzu takes over the front passenger seat and puts her feet up on the dash. She gives polite advice and direction on its operation.

Jim relieves Jeremy at the turret. Jeremy takes his turn at an attempt at napping while Chris plays with Berk and Kayra. Jim realizes he hasn’t spent much quality time with them lately and makes a mental note to do so soon.

As they have since first starting their journey, they see sporadic activity of people. Non-infected people. They see the occasional military vehicle or two, or convoy. When they do encounter military, they receive waves. When needed, they yield the way.

The rapid approach of dusk forces them to search for a place to stop for the night. They want to push forward, but the uncertainty of what they’ll face requires they rest and plan.

One last top-off of fuel ensures they should have more than enough for the final push to Jim’s Mom’s home in Gainesville. They all are experiencing a heightened level of anticipation and stress. While the others are prepping their evening meals, Jim tries to organize his thoughts.

He keeps trying to crush it, but then understands he must face it.
What if his family are infected and trapped in the home like others they’ve encountered?
He wonders what is worse. Finding his family there and infected, or not finding them at all.

They all finish eating quickly, their appetites poor. They dispose of leftovers and garbage and then discuss tomorrow.

All but Chelsea know the layout of the neighborhood and home they’re headed to. Jim points out that since the home is located near the end of a cul-de-sac, they’ll pull the MRAP past the home, turn around and face the way they enter the neighborhood.

Arzu will standby in the MRAP driver seat. Chelsea will man the turret with a suppressed rifle and comms gear and act as a look out. Chris has taken a lot of time going over their weapons and equipment with Chelsea. It started with a suggestion from Jim, but both Chris and Chelsea have seemed to be especially enthusiastic about the training sessions.

Jim, Chris, and Jeremy will approach the home and, if needed, make entry. “They could be infected,” Jim says, looking nowhere and miles away. No one answers. “If they are, we can’t let them infect us,” he adds and then looks to Chris and Jeremy. They hold his gaze and nod somberly.

They split up their watch shifts as always. They see little of the infected in the rural area through the night. No one sleeps well; they think of the happiness they’ll have with reuniting with family. They also have distressing thoughts, causing dread, of what else they may find.

Chapter 33

Present

They all rise and quietly stow air mattresses, more quickly today than other days. Once breakfast is had and the sun has fully broken the horizon, the MRAP is started and allowed to idle while they finish preparing to break camp. Optimistically, they rearrange gear and containers to allow more room for family they hope to find.

Arzu takes the driver seat and, after confirming everyone is ready, starts them in motion to their next destination. They leave the outskirts of Brooker, Florida behind. The destination is about twenty miles away. Caution and roadway obstacles cause that distance to take more time than is typical. Before the plague of the SCAR virus, the distance would be conquered in thirty minutes. It takes them two agonizing hours now.

They enter the small city around 9AM from the north on State Road 121, and head west. Gainesville is home to the University of Florida and much of its population of around 130,000 are students at UF. Many also attend the community colleges in the area.

Judith’s home—Jim’s mother—is located on the northwest side of the city, just barely. They’re very close now. They have some luck on their side. The day is clear and, although in the fifties, it’s bright.

Arzu navigates toward their destination. They travel along SR 121, which turns into NW 34
th
Street once in the city limits. They reach the neighborhood entrance and Arzu makes a right turn and then a left. The road bends to the right. They see Jim’s mother’s home on the left, approach slowly, pass it by and then Arzu loops the MRAP around in the cul-de-sac, bringing the vehicle to a stop, the home now on the passenger side and slightly behind.