A disheveled female zombie stood up from behind a rack of computer components in the back of the room. “Dammit,” Seyfert said, and began to aim his weapon.
The creature raised its hands as well. “Don’t shoot, please,” croaked the timid voice.
Rick and Dallas looked at each other in awe.
Seyfert raised his eyebrows, but lowered his rifle. “Actual, we’ve got a live one.”
37
Ravi and Brenda were all smiles as their friend wolfed down a bowl of beef flavored ramen noodles. Dr. Linda Martin had quite a story to tell. The lab folk up on the seventh floor had been experimenting on the undead they had captured. One had broken loose of its bonds somehow and clamped its teeth on the neck of one of the students leaning over it. The student had succumbed to her injuries within minutes and turned quickly. She had bitten two others while they fought her, and in the ensuing madness, Dr. Venn, the artificial intelligence specialist, dropped to the floor and died as well, probably from a heart attack. He also turned quickly, but he decided to come back with upgrades, and he sprinted around the lab tearing into every living person he could find, infecting and killing the rest of the students and post-docs.
Linda was able to get inside the magno lab, but as she did so, two of her infected colleagues also gained access while chasing her. She put them both down with a fire axe, but there were several more shuffling around, and Dr. Venn was running everywhere, spitting and destroying anything he could.
Ravi, Brenda, and Phil had been downstairs on the sixth floor when all this had happened. When they came back up, they noticed their former friends and colleagues on the other side of the airlock were dead, so they assumed the worst and gave up on the lab, quietly escaping back downstairs without being noticed. The magno lab is devoid of any type of phones or intercom system, as communication equipment can interfere with the instruments, so Linda was trapped. Dr. Martin did what any scientist would do in her situation – she continued working.
“I made some discoveries,” she told them, “not the least of which is that the alpha and theta waves of an AD’s brain are off the charts. More than that, not only are the ADs devoid of beta waves, they focus on them! I believe that’s how a blind AD with headphones on can track a human being.”
“What’s an AD?” Dallas asked aloud.
Dr. Martin looked at him strangely. “An ambulatory deceased. What do you call them?”
“I call ‘em pus-bags, but them military folks calls em Lima Deltas, or jus’ Limas.”
“Interesting. I like it. Anyway, as I was saying,
Limas
(she looked at Dallas) don’t breathe, so they can’t smell, so it isn’t our scent that attracts them. I removed the eyes of the one I was testing, and covered its ears with headphones, and filled its nostrils with silicone caulking, but whenever I got close it turned its head toward me. It knew where I was. It always knew where I was. It was reacting to some other stimuli. Then I tested its brain waves and voila! The alpha and theta waves, which are associated with the mundane tasks we do, or outright sleep, were off the charts. It didn’t make any sense!”
“Neither do dead people walking,” interjected Seyfert as he tossed his suppressor on the floor, “but I’m used to it.” He removed another steel tube from his load-bearing vest and screwed it in place.
“There’s more,” Dr. Martin continued. “I have had this theory for years about beta waves. The betas from one person have a frequency and amplitude relatively the same as the next person. Stick two people in a room together, and the frequency and amplitude of the signals don’t change, but the power of the signal is amplified to approximately four point five times what it was with one person, meaning the sum of the power of the waves is greater than just two people should generate.”
Everyone, including Ravi and Brenda, just stared at her. Phil was nodding his head like he understood, but he stared too.
“This means that the more people you have together, the stronger the power potential of beta waves. The Limas (she looked at Dallas again) find prey primarily through sound, but once they are in range of someone, two feet maybe, then can find them without using the five senses we use, and the more people, the farther away the signal travels! A large group of people would generate a significantly stronger signal.”
“Excellent,” Seyfert chortled, “wonderful. So the more people we have with us, the more danger we’re in. This also means that enclaves of survivors will throw off a big damn beacon for a free lunch.”
Dr. Martin looked over the rim of her bowl as she finished gulping the last of her soup, “Correct. It also means that everyone who was in even a remote contact with a Rama infected individual or computer would be instantly infected themselves, and capable of transmitting the virus unknowingly.” She wiped her face with a napkin. “I’ve also got a theory on the faster creatures.”
“Issues with the way their brains work,” said Phil.
Everyone looked at Phil again. Phil simply shrugged.
“Yes. People with certain psychoses, even those who can control the psychoses, or haven’t manifested any symptoms, could be immune to the shut-down effects of the Rama virus. They would still contract it, but it wouldn’t work the same. It may not shut down or take over as many critical systems, or it could spiral off in other ways. Just a theory, mind you.”
“A good one though,” Ravi agreed. “Drugs or certain sounds or visual stimuli can alter alpha and beta waves. But if we’re all already infected, why don’t we just shut down right now? Why do we need fluid contact from a victim that is already dead?”
“I’ve hypothesized on that as well. Rama was always in a dormant mode in all the computers until it received some type of signal to activate. I believe this signal could be the introduction of fluids from an individual where Rama is running the show. Or death, that could start it off too. Somehow Rama kicks in when one of the vital systems of the human body shuts down. The virus then takes over the system that controls all the others. The nervous system. It doesn’t need other systems, like digestive or endocrine, and it can slow, but not stop the degradation procedure, so the dead can walk, but they rot, albeit significantly slower.”
Rick rubbed the back of his neck. “So then why do the infected want to eat us?”
Dr. Martin sighed. “I don’t know. Perhaps to infect others, or to spread the virus. Maybe just to destroy, but that’s not my area of expertise. Honestly, the whole Abaddon-Rama thing is just a theory.”
Bourne picked up his radio. “This is good intel, but it doesn’t change the mission. We have your data, your gear, and you. Let’s get you to where you can work in safety. Tin Can, do you copy?”
Tin Can was the call sign Bourne had given to the LAV prior to the mission. “
Five by five. Ready and waiting
.
Our position is clear of hostiles
.”
“Copy, no hostiles. Exfil within the hour, stay frosty. We’ve got all of your hostiles here. We will be coming plus four with the loss of Murray.”
“
Roger that, we saw it
.
Previous intel indicated only four breathers
.”
“We’ve got an extra. Three males, two females.”
“
Copy. Tin Can is ready
.”
38
“Uh-uh. Nope. I may be dumb, but I ain’t stupid.”
Dallas backed up two steps from the open and unfriendly looking maw of the service elevator shaft. The elevator was on the sixth floor, and the humans were on the fifth looking down. With two basement levels, it was more than eighty feet to the bottom, but with no lights in the shaft the darkness below was impenetrable after just a few feet. Still, the knowledge of what they were preparing to do filled the non-military survivors with dread.
Seyfert, down on one knee and holding the left elevator door open, peered over the edge and then looked back at Dallas, shaking his head. “Sissy.” The SEAL jammed a large flat-head screwdriver into the carriage of the door, and stood up and kicked it. The door stayed open when he let it go. “This is it, hillbilly, you coming? Way I hear it is that there’s no chow left here. Man up and prepare to climb.”
He pulled three green chem lights out of his tac-webbing and snapped them. He shook them as he swung out into the shaft and deftly grabbed the ladder. He dropped two of the lights clipped a third to his webbing, and proceeded to climb down. “
Check check
.”
“Read you loud and clear, Recon,” Bourne answered the radio check. The colonel and Rick watched Seyfert descend until he was nothing but a green light bobbing on the left side of the shaft. The lights below him looked a hundred miles away.
“
The climb isn’t too bad, the rungs are dry. The glow stick throws a lot of light and I can see the ladder all around me. Passing the third floor doors now
.”
Dallas was shaking his head, “Dammit. I don’t like heights. Don’t like ‘em.”
“I told you,” said Phil, “don’t look down and you’re only a foot off the ground.”
“Now that’s the dumbest thing I ever did hear. O’course yer off’n the ground.”
The radio crackled again. “
Shit
.”
“What’s the problem, son?”
“
Second floor elevator doors are open
,” he whispered. “
It’s dark in the corridor and I can’t see more than a foot in
.” Seyfert hooked his arm around a rung and dug for another glow stick. He pulled one out, cracked and shook it, and tossed it into the open door, where it rolled against a body. “
Dammit, we’ve got a body just inside the corridor
.”
The colonel flexed his right fingers and looked at his palm, obvious discomfort on his face. He rubbed his wounded shoulder. “Moving?”
“
Negative, truly dead. Continuing down
.”
There was a full minute of silence before Seyfert’s voice came back. “
About to breach the first floor doors now. SITREP in two minutes or I’m dead and find another way
.”
The SEAL jammed another long screwdriver in between the elevator doors and began to pry. Spread eagled across the doorway, he slipped his fingers into the sliver of space between the stainless steel plates and pulled, the doors opening slightly. Peering in, he couldn’t see much as the area was dark. He pushed the doors open wide and brought up his weapon, tactical light scanning. Just like so many times in the past few months, in most of the buildings he had been in, there was blood everywhere. Footprints, handprints, drag marks, and directional drop spatter decorated the floor and nearby walls. A dried pile of viscera was at his feet, but he was used to such sights as well. Two bodies were splayed out in front of him by some shelves, one with no head, the other with its face and cranium crushed. He still wasn’t used to the smell though, and he swallowed hard breathing through his mouth. He heard movement to his left and tensed, thinking of missing heads, as two dead men appeared out of the shadows.
The ratcheting sound from his suppressed MP5 couldn’t be helped as he destroyed the two things. He cursed to himself as the moaning started, and he backed up to the elevator shaft, keeping the emptiness and the safety of the ladder to his back. Going to one knee, he kept his firing stance ready and swept his tac-light left and right until the beasties appeared. Seyfert took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he sighted down his weapon. The holographic reticule on his optics having died with the batteries weeks ago, he used an open sight picture and fired in succession.
Pffft
!
Pffft
! And so on until eight body thieves were sent back to hell permanently. Although he had only used ten rounds, he still quickly exchanged magazines in his weapon, then whistled, high and loud.
Nothing else came. He whistled again then called out lightly, “Hey boys, free dinner!” More shuffling steps came from his right; what was left of a female student in shorts stepped into his sliver of illumination. She may have been pretty once, but now her tattered skin was a slimy black, with patches of yellow and purple, what was left of her long hair a matted mess. Seyfert no longer wondered what happened to the misplaced head, the dead girl was cradling it like a crying child. She let it fall when she saw the live human. It sounded like someone dropped a cantaloupe, and it broke open somewhat when it hit the floor. She came at him quickly, but she was no runner. He dropped the thing with a single shot, then waited a solid five minutes, making soft noises before he stood.
“
Recon, SITREP
.”
“Sweeping the room now, sir, initial hostiles down. Clatter tactics ineffective or hostiles are hiding.”
“
Copy that, triple check the corners and your six. Waiting on further SITREP
.”
“Roger that, Lead. Wilco.” The SEAL walked softly in half-crouch, weapon at the ready. He panned the light back and forth as he moved, pausing between shelves and clearing each section before moving on. Besides the elevator shaft, the only other ways into or out of the loading dock were a fairly large roll down door at the loading area, and a set of double doors that were thoroughly barricaded. Initially, it didn’t make sense to the SEAL how the whole room was dead. Then it dawned on him that one of the folks in here had been infected when they barricaded themselves in. Seyfert pictured the scenario in his mind: The folks in the loading dock barricading themselves against the undead hordes both outside and in the building. Hunkering down and being quiet, waiting for the dead to pass. One of them already infected, and either didn’t tell anyone, or didn’t know. They start to get sick and no one notices or they refuse to believe that it’s the plague. The person dies, turns, and attacks the nearest people, all of whom are trapped in a blockaded room with no escape except into the teeth of the mass of undead outside the room. It must have been a bloodbath. The SEAL wondered how many times and in how many places this exact situation had played out across the world.
He checked the entire room three times, put on a pair of blue latex gloves, and dragged the bodies and pieces in a corner, covering them with a thick packing blanket. As he removed his gloves, he noticed he had forgotten the chewed head, and made to move it with his boot. He pushed it and the eyes and mouth moved, “Jesus! Bitch was carrying around a pet head. Yuk.” Not wanting anyone to get bitten, he grabbed a push broom and unscrewed the handle. He broke the end off and jabbed the point through the left eye. He used the broom stick to push the now motionless head under the blanket with the rest of its body. He left the stick.
The roll door had four tinted oval windows, ten by twenty centimeters spaced evenly at waist level across the door. He ventured a look outside and saw minimal stumblers in the area. The main body of the horde must be to the quad side of the building, waiting for the humans to come back down for dinner.
“Wanderer Lead, this is Wanderer Recon.”
“
Go ahead, Recon
.”
“Area is clear of hostiles, but infected fluids are present so all should be careful as to what they touch. You can send down the packs.”
“
Roger that, Recon, area is clear. Packs are on the way
.”
Phil had come up with the idea that sending the ALICE packs down by rope would be easier than climbing down the shaft with them on their backs, and Bourne agreed. Unfortunately, there was no rope. Phil again showed his ingenuity by coming up with two fifty foot lengths of extension cord that he used to power the floor buffer. He knotted them together and tied one end to a pack full of hard drives, DVDs, and notebooks, and began lowering it down to Seyfert.
The SEAL grabbed the first pack and radioed back that he had it. The next two packs came down the same way, and then the humans followed.
Dallas gave one last look over the edge into the shaft and reached his hand for the ladder. “Survive a damn zombie apocalypse to die of a heart attack ‘cause I’m afraid o’ heights. Now thas’ jus’ embarrassin’.”
“Remember,” said Phil, “just don’t look down.”
The big man grumbled an unintelligible reply and began his descent. The colonel came next, followed by Brenda, Linda, Ravi, Henry, Phil, and Rick.
“Why I gotta go first anyway?” demanded the Texan.
Bourne replied without humor, “In case you fall you won’t take anybody with you.”
“Sounds familiar. Didn’t like it then neither, but I had to go second.”
Dallas was sweating as he passed the second floor elevator doors, the green glow from Seyfert’s chem light illuminating a small area inside the corridor. He pressed on and suddenly he was staring the SEAL in the face. “Howdy,” was all Seyfert had to say. The seaman grabbed the big man and helped him from the access ladder to the first floor.
Dallas breathed heavily. Whether it was exertion from the climb, or a sigh of relief, he wasn’t sure. “That’s it? I thought it would be worse.”
“Help the rest of them off the ladder, I’ll keep watch behind.”
“Didn’t ya clear th’ room already?”
“Yeah, but better safe than…” Yelling from above made him stop and look up into the darkness of the shaft.