Particle Z (Book 1) (7 page)
“Follow us and don’t stop for anything until we get back inside,” Mike called through the exit to Reid.
Reid briefly looked over at Mike and nodded his affirmative. Seconds later, they were back in their vehicles without incident and headed toward the loading area in the main building. The door was already opening as they pulled up. Mike’s stomach turned when he noticed hundreds of newly Changed making their way to the loading dock from the opposite direction they had just arrived from, drawn in, he was sure, by the racket the .50 cal had made clearing the exit to the parking garage.
“Wherever it is you’re heading it needs to happen fast,” Mike said, eyeing the horde as he spoke.
“We have a flight to catch,” Julian responded as if it were a foregone conclusion Mike and his friends were going with Terra Corp willingly.
Mike looked at Julian and said, “We’re going with you under threat, don’t forget that.”
“The choice is yours. Stay here and deal with the Changed, but Marlee’s going with us. She’s too important to be wasted on pride or your lack of understanding concerning the situation we’re now facing,” Julian said flatly.
Mike, growing frustrated, looked back at Julian and said, “You haven’t told us why she is so important, you haven’t told us what exactly is happening or why, and you haven’t told us where it is you plan to take us.”
“Mike, the world is under attack from an enemy we can’t see or control, and soon there will be very few safe places left for mankind. Marlee is rare, like I said before she’s what I consider
latent,
and I don’t really know what that means for her, humankind, if anything, or us. We’re flying to a secure location in a secluded part of the country and that’s all I can tell you right now. Our first priority is getting everyone on that plane and that in and of itself will be a challenge due to the rapid spread of Changed we’re witnessing.”
Mike sat back and just stared at Julian. “Is it that bad?” he said, feeling deflated.
“Yes, it’s that bad and it’s going to get much, much worse.”
The door shut behind them and the Humvee ground to a halt. Mike was quick to climb out so he could inform his friends about the current situation. The Changed began pounding on the door as a reminder of their new reality.
Mike and his team found themselves crammed into one of Terra Corp’s massive black MRAPs, Marlee snug up against Mike’s side. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. Julian, along with his security specialists, had piled into the same vehicle. Mike assumed this wasn’t by chance, but rather to make sure Marlee had watchful eyes on her at all times. Julian was not a careless man, of that Mike was certain. The decision had been made to use the MRAP’s top-mounted twin chain-guns to punch a hole through the door and clear a path through the mass of Changed gathered outside. There was no way the door could be opened before the Changed tore apart whomever was assigned that suicide mission.
They heard the metallic hum of the chain-guns spinning up before exploding into action. Davis was on the trigger as the chain-guns performed a violent symphony of death for any who stood before them. The six-wheeled vehicle’s engine fired up shortly after, hesitating for a moment as the huge turbos spooled up before launching them forward. The MRAP hammered through the gunfire-riddled door as it burst out onto the street. They plowed headfirst into a crowd of Changed, who were oblivious to the beating the chain-guns and vehicles’ tires were now dishing out.
The second MRAP, the Humvee, and the smaller armored bus followed the lead vehicle out after it had managed to turn, leave a gaping hole in the Changed that were gathered outside. The convoy was on its way. The airport was about ten miles from their location on a good day, and today was anything but a good day. The first thing Mike noticed as he pressed his face up to one of the windows was the obvious. Chaos reigned supreme in a city that only hours before had been filled with businessmen and women trudging their way into work.
Abandoned cars were everywhere. Many of the unlucky drivers had taken to the sidewalks in an effort to avoid the wave of misery that had descended upon the city. Shops were shut down or simply abandoned, and absent was the normal movement or sounds a person would generally hear on a Monday morning. The occasional individual or small group of people would appear at the sight of the convoy only be to torn down by the Changed that seemed to be roaming everywhere now. Davis was forced to be judicious with the application of the chain-guns as they moved further into the city, where normalcy was just now facing the horror that had begun at the Port. The Changed were bad enough; friendly fire would only exacerbate the situation.
Mike was overwhelmed at the speed in which this nightmare was overtaking the city; glancing down at his watch, he was having trouble comprehending the fact only a few hours had passed since he had arrived at work. It was also incomprehensible to him that an entire city was on schedule to be reduced to a living morgue in less than a day if someone didn’t get this shit under control. What or who could have caused such a sick and violent end to so many innocent people kept running through his head; he didn’t have an answer but suspected Middle Eastern terrorists, most likely ISIS as they were sicker than even the sickest. Regardless, this would take months if not years to recover from.
Mike hoped Julian would keep his word and let them know how bad the situation really was once they reached their destination, wherever that was. Then there was the issue of Marlee and this
latent
thing Julian kept mentioning. It sounded ominous but it could be worse, Mike thought, Marlee could be one of those things. He decided he would look at the positive side of things until that was no longer possible.
He was unsure how Marlee ended up with some of the symptoms of the Change. The medical team had told him she was mark- and bite-free, so how she had contracted it was a mystery to him. Mike also knew for sure he wasn’t dreaming or imagining things, remembering with a shudder when those changed freaks got a look at Marlee’s eyes and went berserk. He felt sick to his stomach at what all of this meant for Marlee. If he was being honest with himself, Mike was also a little nervous. What if she completed her change and attacked them? He hadn’t figured out a way to prevent an event like that without pushing everyone around them even further toward the ragged edge. What did this mean for her future, and how would Mike protect her if she had a resemblance to one of the Changed? People tended to shoot first and ask questions later when faced with certain and painful death by flesh-hungry freaks.
The MRAP ground to a sudden and bone-jarring halt, pulling Mike from his morbid contemplations. He waited for the impact of the trailing vehicles but was relieved when it didn’t happen.
“Why did we stop?” Reid asked nervously, trying to get a look out one of the windows.
Julian called up to the driver, “Why have we stopped?”
I could’ve done that
, was the look Mike clearly saw cross Reid’s face.
“Mr. Fairchild, there’s trouble ahead. The highway’s blocked and it looks like secondary roads may be our only option if there isn’t a way around this mess,” the driver answered back.
“How many vehicles need to be cleared?” Julian asked.
“It’s not vehicles causing the problem, sir.”
Julian stood up, in more of a stooped position than standing due to the cramped space inside the MRAP, and threaded his way past the others to take a look at what had the driver so concerned.
“Holy shit!” Julian breathed out. “There must be hundreds,” he said with real alarm in his voice. “Lock down the vehicles, shut the engines off and have the Humvee and bus wedge in between the MRAPs. Make it happen now; we don’t have near enough fucking ammo to clear a crowd like that.”
The driver immediately got on the radio. Within seconds the vehicles were in position, and all went silent. Mike was comforting Marlee while Reid held Ashley. They didn’t need anyone making unnecessary noise with a horde of Changed about to swarm past.
“I don’t know what it takes to get their attention, and I certainly don’t want to starve to death if they stick around, so keep quiet until they’re past us,” Julian ordered everyone inside while the driver quietly radioed the message to the other vehicles. Mike was glad he was making this trip in the MRAP instead of the less secure Humvee.
The stink preceded the swarm, a sickly putrid smell that offended the senses like nothing they had ever experienced. The only way Mike could describe the stench was a combination of athlete’s foot and rotten eggs mixed with wet diarrhea. Aggeles quietly handed out small cotton rags and gestured for everyone to wrap them around their faces to blunt the odor. He also handed out brown paper puke bags. Mike noticed the hired guns made no move to cover their faces. Macho, he guessed. Mike had left youthful bravado behind many years ago, and thankfully buried his nose in the rag.
The sound of the swarm could now be heard: fear-inducing growls, the clicking of jaws mashing empty air, and a wet, whistling sound from throats torn asunder – inhuman sounds never experienced before by mankind that raised hackles on even the toughest of those in the safety of the MRAP. As the Changed moved past the small convoy, they did not seem interested in the small grouping of vehicles, much to the relief of those sitting quietly inside.
Exacerbating the situation further was the suffocating heat building up within the MRAP. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but the lack of air conditioning with the vehicle off while baking in the blistering Florida sun increased the misery level considerably. The reason for the puke bags was now evident as Ashley started to gag and lost the battle, letting the remaining contents of her stomach dribble into her bag. The heat, putrid rank of the changed, and now the smell of vomit was more than Reid could handle as he too started to puke into his bag. Mike looked around at the queasy faces of everyone crammed inside the MRAP and prayed no one else would get sick.
“All clear,” the driver mercifully announced after what seemed like hours but Mike’s watch told him was less than fifteen minutes.
“Can we step outside for a minute?” Reid asked as he looked around the cabin at the misery drawn across each face.
“Take a look, Aggeles,” Julian ordered.
Reid looked pleadingly at Julian and said, “I need to get out of this fucking truck.” He sounded panicked so Mike, with a glance at Eric, shifted himself closer to Reid, just in case he needed to be relaxed against his will. While Mike and Eric kept an eye on Reid, Aggeles dropped back down from the gun turret.
“Sorry, not safe outside, pockets of Z’s everywhere, but at least we can get the vehicles moving again.” Looking at Reid, he said, “You’re welcome to ride topside in the turret with Davis if it’ll help.”
Reid smiled gratefully at Aggeles. “I’ll be fine; I think the heat got to me, that’s all.”
The MRAP shuddered back to life along with the other convoy vehicles. Soon cool air started to circulate within the MRAP, the odors subsided, and everyone started to feel better. The lead MRAP started to trudge through abandoned vehicles, pushing many off the highway in order to pass through. Typically, I-275 was bumper to bumper at this time of day, but it was now filled with wrecked and abandoned cars, overheated corpses, and shambling groups of the Changed. Mike and the rest of the group were thankful for the armor that stood between them and an unspeakable and painful death.
Mike decided to go topside and survey the landscape for himself. “Keep an eye on things,” he asked Eric, who was just staring at the flat tan interior of the MRAP, not looking at anything or anyone in particular. The day’s events had been almost unbelievable and were just now hitting home. The gravity of the situation they now found themselves in was overwhelming. Mike could tell by the far-off stares and blank looks that his friends were starting to internalize the shock of the day’s events, which was never a good thing.
I woke up today looking forward to spending some time with Marlee. Now I’m sitting in an armored vehicle with some secretive corporate types while people are dying by the score then getting back up and murdering their friends and family. This is the stuff of nightmares or Hollywood. Is this really happening?
Mike asked himself.
Eric’s response brought Mike back to the present. “Copy that, Mike. I’ll keep an eye out, go ahead and take a look.”
Mike smiled back at Eric. If you had to be stuck in the middle of an apocalyptic catastrophe, Eric was the person to be stuck with. Mike grabbed the ladder and started up. What he witnessed after squeezing himself topside with Davis was incomprehensible, and Mike’s brain was having trouble processing what he was seeing. As the day wore on and his world continued to unravel, he realized his hometown was almost unrecognizable to him. The silhouette of the downtown skyscrapers stood like stoic reminders of a better life forever banished to him.
At first glance all the pieces were in the right place. The high-rises that made up downtown were behind them now, and Mike could still make out the building they had just vacated. The businesses and restaurants along the Interstate were the same ones he had seen countless times before. What was different now was the lack of order. Cars were piled up everywhere, people, or at least what looked like people were moving around and not in places you would generally see them. Everything was discordant.
Mike noticed a car speeding down a secondary road just off the Interstate; it slowed abruptly, stuck behind a group of stalled vehicles. The driver then started to back out of the situation. It looked like a family from the number of shapes Mike was able to discern from his vantage point.
“Looking for a safe place,” Davis said quietly and with more compassion than Mike had seen from any of the hired guns so far.
Mike, sick at what he knew was coming, turned to Davis and said, “Can we help them?”
“Not in the way you are wanting to,” Davis said with a heavy sigh.
Mike wasn’t sure he understood Davis’s line of thought. He watched as a large group of Changed approached and circled the doomed family’s car. Mike could make out the panic in the quick darting of the whites of the driver’s eyes as he looked from the Changed to his young children crying in the back seat. Mike turned away; it was a disturbing image of helplessness and despair and he feared the image would be seared into his mind until the end of his days. Davis meanwhile swiveled the rail gun around and pointed it toward the car with the panicked family inside. The Changed were already slamming themselves against the doors and windows in a frenzy to get to the terrified family within.
“God help me,” Davis whispered to himself, just loud enough for Mike to hear.
Mike did not completely understand what Davis’s intent was at first; then as the men locked glances, Mike could see the pain buried deep within Davis’s bright blue eyes. Mike, not typically a religious man, whispered back, “Blessed are the merciful for they shall receive mercy.”
Davis pulled the twin chain-guns’ trigger and sent a hail of lead tearing through the air toward the gathering crowd of Changed and the car’s unsuspecting occupants. Seconds later everything in and around the car was a vaporous mist of blood, bone, and flesh. Mike turned away, thankful it was over before that poor family ever realized what was happening to them. Davis, his stoic demeanor back in place, started to scan for potential roadblocks that would prevent the convoy from facing a similar fate.
“How are things outside, Mike?” Eric asked when Mike dropped back into the MRAP.
Mike looked at Eric and the others and quietly said, “It looks like the world has ended.”