Omega Pathogen: Mayhem (6 page)

Jim stops his vehicle and looks around to see if he’s drawn unwanted attention. Still no movement. He examines the parking area and the doorways to the hospital, stepping out and digging through his backpack. Locating his binoculars, he glasses the area.

His excitement at getting his hands on the MRAP is dampened by his concern over the lack of the infected. Jim makes up his mind. If the armored vehicle is operational, he’s got to try to get the MRAP. It’s thousands of times tougher than what they have; they can get more supplies we need and more room inside.
Yeah, I’ve got to try
.

Slowly, Jim drives off the feeder road through grass on the shoulder and towards the parking lot in front of the hospital. Being careful not to get stuck in a few muddy patches and holes, he comes to a stop just on the parking lot pavement.

Still not seeing threats, Jim begins to get concerned. It just seems too good to be true, and when things seem that they’re too good to be, it usually means he’s going to step off into a great big pile of shit.

Having no obvious issue with immediate threats to his life, he takes a pause and goes over options in his mind. He’s going to try for the MRAP; he knows that. How he’s going to approach and check it for mechanical soundness is a plan still not well defined.

Pulling the family’s Pathfinder a little closer to the front parking area, while continuing to observe for threats, Jim makes a wide left turn, looping the vehicle to face the direction he came. Putting it in ‘park’, but leaving the Pathfinder running, Jim removes his Glock 9mm from his low-riding holster on his right leg, checks for a full magazine, and then assures himself a round is chambered by slightly pushing the slide back enough to see a round.

Replacing the Glock in the holster, he then retrieves AR-15 from where it’s leaning on the passenger seat, the barrel on the floorboard. All the while, he looks from weapons preparation to his surroundings.

Taking a deep, calming breath, holding it for a fraction, and then exhaling to calm his nerves and clear his mind, he steps out of the vehicle.

He gently eases the driver’s door to an almost-closed position to allow hurriedly gained access if a rapid escape is needed. The hospital is to the driver’s side, as is the SWAT MRAP vehicle. Numerous other vehicles are in the area, some parked neatly in parking spaces, others haphazardly parked around the building.

The prize for Jim right now is located about fifty yards from his current position, between him and the hospital. Continuing his constant visual assessment, he heads indirectly for the MRAP, being careful to check under vehicles for possible infected, trying to shield themselves from the sunlight that seems to cause them some discomfort.

Jim also takes into consideration the entrance of the hospital on the other side of the SWAT vehicle. Any number of the infected could be inside; a misstep could possibly bring a shit storm down on him in seconds. Taking another step, he instantly freezes when he hears some movement from the MRAP, causing a chill to run down his spine.
Shit
, he thinks. Pausing, Jim weighs his options.

While thinking on his next move, the sounds from the MRAP stop. Realizing he’d been holding his breath, he slowly exhales and then begins breathing normally.

Jim knows if the occupant or occupants of the armored vehicle are infected, which is highly likely, he’s going to have to remove them as a threat. Doing so will certainly bring more. Remaining as quiet as possible, Jim turns and heads back to the family Pathfinder idling behind him. Reaching the vehicle, he eases the driver door open and presses the unlock button for all the door locks.

Returning the door to its nearly closed position, he walks to the rear of the vehicle while constantly taking in his surroundings. Quietly, Jim lifts the rear hatch and retrieves one of the Halligan tool. The Halligan tool has been used by fire rescue for many years, and recently utilized by SWAT teams as well. The tool is excellent for breaching crumbled vehicles, or those that are simply locked. It’s also used for much the same purpose by SWAT teams for gaining entry to locked homes during raids.

This Halligan tool weighs around 14 pounds, and is about 36 inches long. The reason Jim wants the tool is because one end has a large claw, like that of a hammer, and the other end has a curved wedge, with a large tapered pick on a 90-degree angle from the wedge.

Jim doesn’t want the tool because he thinks he could use it to enter the armored vehicle. The doors are already open. No, Jim wants it as a weapon.

Chapter 8

Present

Although he has two combat knives on his vest and he could use one of the axes, the Halligan outweighs the axes and he’ll have a better reach than with the knives.

Easing the rear hatch closed, Jim heads back to the MRAP. Looking and listening for any possible danger, he makes his way back toward the armored vehicle again, closer this time.

Pausing and squatting to look under vehicles in the area, and to peer inside the hospital entrance for threats, he sees nothing under the vehicles throughout the parking area. He’s unable to see into the hospital entrance beyond about ten feet, due to complete ink-like blackness.

Jim rises slowly to a crouch, moves his AR-15 around to his back, and begins to move forward toward the MRAP, doing his best not to have tunnel vision for his prize; he knows that someone or something is inside.

Finally, he reaches the rear of the MRAP. The double vertical doors to the rear compartment are open. Jim takes some slow, deep breaths to steady himself. He already has the Halligan bar in a ready position, with the spike section ready to meet any threat, not unlike a batter ready to swing. Easing slowly toward the edge of the left of the open doors, he sees two figures lying on the floor of the MRAP. Not being noticed by the occupants, Jim stares harder to ascertain if both are alive.

He knows from the movement he heard just a few moments ago that at least one is alive. Neither appears to be armed, and both are wearing hospital scrubs. Jim notices that there are various types of SWAT equipment mounted throughout the rear section of the MRAP. The items range from semi-automatic rifles and shotguns, to grenade launchers, likely used for some sort of teargas.

Deciding he’s too close to turn back now, Jim issues a ‘pssst’ noise he hopes is only loud enough for the two occupants in the armored vehicle. His question of whether both of the figures wearing scrubs are alive is answered immediately as they bolt upright to a sitting position.

Both are male; they look confused for a brief moment as they look for the source of the noise. They don’t take long to find it, locking their eyes on Jim and issuing a low growl. Their maws increase salivating. The scrub wearing infected jump to their feet and quickly move towards him as Jim hastily backs up. With most of his focus on the immediate threat in front, he does his best to try and look for any others coming from the vicinity.

Stopping about ten feet from the rear of the MRAP, Jim stands at the ready. Unfortunately, both of the infected exit at the same time and are side-by-side as they quickly approach him.

Jim changes the position of the Halligan bar, and jabs the attacker on the left as hard as he can in the face. The infected that just had his nose broken, and several teeth removed from his upper and lower jaw, stumbles backward and then falls to the pavement. As soon as Jim sees the one he jabbed in the face falter backwards, he doesn’t wait for it to fall before he repositions the Halligan tool and swings it like a bat.

With the tapered pick-end leading the way, the tool impacts the second infected man in the left temple, and penetrates six inches, nearly up to the wedge. Falling to the right, the Halligan is pulled along with its victim’s momentum for a second, before it’s pulled free with sucking and a slight crunching noise, as the fragments of skull are again displaced by the spike’s exit. From the one now on the pavement with a hole in its left temple, Jim quickly shifts his focus to the first infected with the rearranged nose and removed teeth.

The first of the infected is just getting to a crouching position; Jim swings the Halligan down on top of its head, ending its momentum and releasing its bowels. The infected falls face-first to the pavement, further rearranging its face.

Quickly looking around for more infected that may have heard any noise of the encounter, Jim wipes off the bloodied end of the Halligan bar on the infected that received the spike through his head.

Jim checks the interior of the MRAP from the rear entrance. Seeing no more occupants, he closes the doors as quietly as possible. He swiftly moves around the closed driver side door, stepping onto the built-in footsteps, glancing inside. Seeing the front compartment is clear, Jim tries and finds the door unlocked.

Constantly looking around, feeling as though he’s being snuck up on, he pulls the door open and slides into the driver seat. Happily discovering the MRAP vehicle hasn’t had the ignition system altered and still starts without a key, Jim turns the start switch to the pre-start position to warm the glow plugs.

“Fuck, yeah!” Jim nearly yells out when he sees the fuel gauge is at a half tank. Seeming to take forever, the glow plug warming light finally goes out, indicating that they’ve warmed enough to attempt to start.

Turning the switch fully, the engine starts immediately, bringing a laugh from Jim. Out of his peripheral vision, Jim notices movement. Turning to the movement on his right, he sees a mass of infected humans emerging from the front entrance of the hospital. Jim likens the scene to angry ants pouring out of an anthill to attack an intruder.

Slamming the transmission into drive, and nearly simultaneously stomping his foot on the accelerator, he whips the steering wheel to the left to avoid colliding with an abandoned pickup truck; Jim slams into three infected.

Regaining control of his direction of travel, Jim makes another left turn, looping around past the family’s Pathfinder idling in the lot, and heads home.

Chapter 9

Present

    Arzu, Chris, and Jeremy maintain their vigil, staring out through any little space available in the boarded-up windows. After an eternity of waiting, they hear the sound of a tractor-trailer growing louder. The sound of the powerful engine roaring brings them all to the closest window, in the direction of the noise.

From the east of the home, approaching from their right, they see a huge, flat black truck approaching. They see the red and blue emergency lights come on and then hear a loud electric honk, followed by the sound of Jim.

“Get ready to open the outside garage door when I tell you. Use the remote control and keep the garage door to the house closed,” Jim’s voice starts lower, grows louder, and then fades a little as the monstrous truck passes by. The family rapidly prepares for Jim’s arrival. Arzu directs Jeremy to get ready to open the garage door, and she and Chris check over their firearms.

Chris swaps weapons with Jeremy, since he’ll need to operate the garage remote and won’t be able to aim as efficiently with the shotgun. Jeremy accepts the Judge .410/.45 Colt revolver without a word; he understands the logic without it needing to be spoken.

Arzu, armed with an AK-47, places it at her shoulder but keeps the muzzle toward the floor. “Everyone ready for your crazy father?” she asks with a smile. “Was that the police?” Berk asks, descending the stairs and stopping at the makeshift barricade. “It was a fire truck,” Kayra offers her opinion.

“Both of you, please go back upstairs to the spare bedroom and wait for me now, please,” Arzu asks, in a tone that leaves no doubt to either child that it's an order. Both reply, “OK” and turn and return to the room. Looking out the window again, Arzu sees infected people by the tens, maybe a few hundred. Unable to keep up the pace of the vehicle, the still give a futile pursuit in its direction.

About ten minutes later, which seems like hours, they hear the sound of the truck again. The truck is approaching from the same direction, from the right of the house. Arzu watches as the truck slows and angles its trajectory towards the front lawns of the houses to the side of their home. For a brief moment, Arzu thinks Jim is hurt and going to collide with one of the houses nearby, or with theirs.

The monstrous vehicle straightens its path as it continues to plow through front yards. The click of the speaker sounds and then Jim yells, “Open it, now.” Arzu watches as the flat black behemoth with ‘SWAT’ emblazoned on its side drives past, no,
through
their front yard and drives over one of their two sapling trees like it was an overgrown weed.

She looks over and sees Jeremy with the garage remote, grasping the deadbolt lock with his left hand, and the revolver in his right. Both he and Chris are leaning toward the door like loaded springs, waiting for their father to call for them to open the door or ask for help.

Outside, coming from the area she guesses is the garage, Arzu hears sounds of grinding metal and what sounds and feels like a tree slamming into the roof. An instant later the sound of the engine goes quiet. Then they all jump at the sound of three knocks at the door, the sound of the garage door closing, and then Jim’s voice from the other side, “Anyone home?”

There’s an audible exhalation from all three standing at the door, Jeremy unlocks the door and opens it. “Damn, Dad, I pissed my pants!” Chris says.