Zombies Begin (Zombies Begin Series Book 1) (8 page)

Santiago got to her feet. She cupped her hand over her mouth. Confused. Scared. She paced the room.

Fuller grew tired of waiting. He let go of Johnson, letting him smash to the floor with a thud, face down. He rushed Santiago, pinning her against the wall. Grabbed her around the face, close to her ear. “Tell me what I want to know.”

Santiago tried to push him back with both hands. It was like pushing on a brick wall. She thumped his bare chest. “Get off of me!”

Fuller raised the blood covered pen to her face. Santiago closed her eyes, anticipating what came next. She breathed deeply, getting her thoughts together. She opened her eyes, looking straight into Fuller’s eyes. He was hesitant to strike her. Those pretty, brown eyes would stop most men in their tracks—not that that was her strategy, at least not at first.

She recognized his hesitation.

She put her hand up to his face, touching it lightly. Her fingertips could feel the dry roughness of his pale skin. She spoke in almost a whisper. “You can control this. Now let me go… and back away.”

Fuller didn’t move.

“If you’re still human, then back away.”

Fuller slowly released his grip from around her face. He grabbed her wrist to stop her touch. He pushed his forehead into hers, pinning her head against the wall. “What military applications?”

Santiago closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure what to do. There was no way out of this but to comply. She could feel Fuller’s breath against her face. She was dealing with an animal that could kill her, or worse… infect her.

“The
T
.
gondii
is linked to all kinds of neurological disorders. It can and does control your brain,” she blurted out.

Fuller pushed against her a little harder. Her bottom lip trembled slightly.

“We thought we could strip away the bad and be left with the good. Imagine a soldier, or an agent, that is stronger, fearless, resistant to pain. Numb to the impact of war. No more depression. No more posttraumatic stress disorders.”

Fuller stepped back, releasing her from the pin. He looked down at the small dots of Johnson’s blood on his hand. Realization had set in. He had become part of an experiment that had changed him into a mutated freak. They were taking his life from him.

“As you can see, we were wrong.”

Fuller grabbed Johnson off the floor and tossed his unconscious body back into the chair. He tied the broken straps around his limbs the best he could to keep Johnson in the chair.

Fuller placed Johnson’s keys in Santiago’s hand and grabbed her around the wrist. It was time to take his life back.

An alarm sounded. It echoed through a long, white corridor, with rooms shooting off to the sides. A few medical staff ran in different directions, trying to make a fast but orderly exit. Fuller barreled people over as he charged through—pulling Santiago behind. She could barely keep up with him. She was in heels and he was moving fast. He wanted out of that place and he wasn’t going to let anyone get in his way. If he hadn’t needed Santiago to fix him (or maybe as a hostage), he would have left her behind. She was slowing him down.

He didn’t have much of a plan. But he did know this: one, get as far away from this place as possible; two, go into hiding and disappear off the face of the earth (not that he knew how to accomplish this); three, try to get cured and then rebuild his life—maybe as a farmer. That was the plan. That was all he had, for now.

He could find a small town, out of the way, far away from government agents and research labs. Lie low. He could get her to withdraw a bunch of cash, a one-time transaction; hopefully the one and only chance they would have to pinpoint their location. Then they would be gone. They would disappear. She was a doctor-scientist after all and should be loaded. They would use cash to pay for a hotel room, buy food and medical supplies. This doctor lady could work on a cure, or at least stabilize him. He could be wrong—she might not be able to do anything, but it was better than being a lab rat—a dead lab rat! He wasn’t into kidnapping people, but he would keep Santiago for as long as he had to. For as long as it would take. Anyway, he wasn’t the one who had started all of this, they were. And this was probably his only chance.

Fuller stumbled. The adrenaline dump and lack of food were taking their toll. The alarm blasting through the corridors… That was for him. He needed to recharge, fuel-up and get the hell out of there.

As he continued to drag Santiago through the corridors, she remained surprisingly quiet. He scanned the rooms as he rushed by. He noticed a nearby staff room. Just what he was looking for.

That area seemed more up-to-date and well kept than the other areas. A few staff lockers lined the walls, with a small kitchenette and microwave positioned in the corner. He forced Santiago into the room and closed the door. He moved along the locker doors, pulling on each one. All locked. He used his elbow to pound on one of the doors. He pounded it a couple more times, enough to bend the middle of the door and fold out one of the corners to access the locker. Fuller rummaged through it, looking for some clothing. His half-naked, bandaged body was a dead giveaway that he shouldn’t be wandering the halls. He was able to find some street clothes that fit him—simple blue jeans and a white T-shirt. The T-shirt smelled freshly washed. Having clean clothes in itself was enough to give him a small moral boost.

The kitchenette didn’t offer anything too exciting: some packed lunches, which he raided and stuffed into Santiago’s arms; some coffee and bottled water. He emptied half a bottle of coffee into the coffee pot, poured in a large amount of sugar, added some cold water and poured it down his throat. Santiago watched on in disgust.

The alarm continued to echo out in the corridor. Fuller slowly opened the door, peering out to see if it was clear. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead. One broke free, running down the side of his cheek. The place seemed abandoned. Besides the screeching alarm, there was no other noise.

He waited for a moment to see if anyone, security, was going to appear from behind the corner. It all seemed clear. He slowly opened the door a little further to step out, when he noticed a small reflection hit the wall.  A small mirror, close to the ground, was partially hidden around the corner. Fuller ducked back inside the room, slamming the door shut. He locked it. He knew what the mirror meant.

A team of security officers stood around the corner, ready to take Fuller out. They weren’t your normal security officers. These guys looked like SWAT. They were decked out in full tactical gear, and MP5s (sub machine guns)—these guys were going to war.

Fuller grabbed what he could and slid it in front of the door to barricade it. Lockers, the fridge, chairs and tables. Santiago stood still in the corner, terrified. There were no windows in the room, so he didn’t have to worry about them getting in that way. But now he was stuck with nowhere to go. The only leverage he had—Santiago.

Scuffles could be heard outside the door. The team was getting jacked up to enter. Fuller wasn’t sure what to do. He could feel his heart pounding. He broke out in a sweat, overcome with panic. Regardless of what strength he had, he had never gone toe to toe with a fully armed tactical team. He could feel he was losing control. His body started to tremble.

Santiago slowly approached him, still holding an armful of packed lunches. “There’s nowhere to go. It would be better to give up.”

Fuller turned away from her. He rubbed his head and face with both hands. What to do? His eyes rolled back in his head. He suddenly lashed out, grabbing Santiago around the neck, pulling her close to him. He didn’t want to do it. It wasn’t his choice anymore. He felt the urge. The hunger. He wanted to bite her. Teeth inches from her face, she winced, in undeniable fear.

“Please don’t,” she begged.

Her words vibrated in his ear. He wanted to bite her badly. The hunger was great. He stopped himself, wrestling again with what the parasite wanted and what he wanted.
Survive and refuel—don’t hurt her.

Several metallic booms vibrated through the door like thunder behind the door. The team was trying to bring down the door. It would take them a while to break through the large barricade Fuller had set up. The banging caused Fuller to snap out of his episode. He released Santiago, throwing her to the floor. The bags of food scattered. She rubbed her neck. Red finger marks showed how tightly Fuller had gripped her. She was relieved she had escaped for now and help was on its way.

The banging stopped. The SWAT team was probably working on some other plan to gain entry. Fuller knew his time was running out. They’d be in there soon; they’d find a way. He slumped to the floor to rest. Santiago scooted back to distance herself from him.

Fuller watched her fearful retreat. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“The parasite has one function—to survive,” Santiago said quietly. “It wants to spread to as many hosts as it can. It spreads through bodily fluids. One bite would infect me with the parasite. If you don’t want any harm to come to me, you need to let me go. You won’t have control for much longer. You need to start on the medication, so you can maintain control when under duress. Give yourself up, so we can help you. You don’t have much of a choice.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Santiago could see there was still a normal guy, a real person, under the rage and beaten exterior. Someone wanting to survive, to return to normal life. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be infected. She knew how much she feared the parasite, especially being so close to becoming infected herself. She wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

“Our head scientist, Dr. Fiedler, had been working on the parasite for several years before I came on board. I worked with him for twelve months. This was my first big break. To work as an assistant to Dr. Fiedler is a coveted position. He’s a genius,” said Santiago, as she checked her arms and body for wounds. “A little crazy, but I think you have to be crazy to be a genius.”

Fuller let his guard down for a moment to give a small smile at the comment. It was the first time he had felt a bit normal in some time. He listened to her intently.

“It’s hard for a genius to understand normal protocols.” Santiago jumped as a new bang slapped the door from behind the barricade. “He didn’t have very good relationships with people. Especially his work colleagues. He preferred to be in his own world. He never stuck to deadlines. He would work all kinds of weird hours. It was hard to keep up with him. The money men of this place didn’t appreciate his lack of communication and lack of staying on schedule. They wanted results now. They were going to relieve him and give Johnson the job—”

“Johnson’s a dick. I’d like to punch that fat bastard in throat,” interrupted Fuller.

“It turned Dr. Fiedler more crazy and he did something that he shouldn’t have done...”

Seven Days Earlier

Dr. Fiedler briskly walked down the corridor. He was a man in his early sixties. He was a small-framed man. He looked like he had never done any manual labor his entire life, preferring to study and tinker with projects.

He soon came to his lab. A security guard sat by the door at a small desk, checking everyone who entered and left the lab. Fiedler was visibly nervous. His hand shook when he presented his ID to the guard.

“You okay, Dr. Fiedler?”

“Just too much caffeine today. Got schedules to keep.”

The guard waved Fiedler on through. Fiedler removed his keys and unlocked the door. The lab was big. Several other scientists worked away. There were shelves full of different colored vials of liquid. A few doors to one side led to small offices.

Fiedler moved through the lab, trying to keep a low profile. At the other end of the lab, a door led to a room full of cages. The cages were full of various rodents. He selected a large, white lab rat. He wrangled it into a small cage and walked briskly back with it into the main lab area, placing the cage onto a small table. The large rat scurried and sniffed around in the cage.

Mist flowed out of a large lab fridge. Fiedler made his way into the cold room. Vials of strange liquids of all different colors lined the walls, all with little, hand-written labels identifying each substance. Fiedler removed a greenish-colored one, with only numbers to identify it. He filled a syringe with the greenish liquid. He grabbed a second syringe filling it with a sedative. He removed the remainder of the green-filled vials, placing them carefully into a cold box.

Fiedler returned to the main lab area to collect his rat. He moved to one of the small rooms, unlocked his small office and slipped inside. Papers were stacked all around the room, some floor to ceiling. So many books and papers, he could hardly see his desk. A security camera in the corner of the ceiling watched his every move. He had stacked papers up under the camera. It almost covered the lens.

Fiedler was aware of the camera. He pretended to work, flipping through papers and files. He moved stacks of paper around as though he was looking for something. He moved to the pile near the camera. Standing on his chair, he shuffled some of the papers and added more paper to completely block the lens. He quickly jumped off his chair, moving to his desk. He filled his briefcase with a few different files, paperwork and his laptop computer. He worked as though he had been planning his actions for some time. He knew security would be there in a matter of minutes, so he had to move quickly. He slammed shut the briefcase. Locked it.

He jabbed the rat with the sedative, followed by the green syringe, emptying the entire contents into the caged animal. Soon the rat was limp and unconscious. Fiedler grabbed a form—it was an animal transfer form—and scribbled in some details, signing off at the bottom. He removed a lighter from his pocket and lit some of his paperwork on fire. Rushed out of the room, juggling his briefcase, cold box and cage.

Fiedler burst through the lab door. The security guard stood up, blocking Fiedler’s way.

“The control room just called down. You’ve blocked the view of your camera again.”

“Oh okay, I didn’t realize. I’ll fix it tomorrow. I’m in a rush.” Fiedler tried to push past, but the guard stood his ground. He eyed the cage and cold box.

“Do you have your paperwork for that?”

Fiedler grabbed the form he had filled out, handing it to the guard. The guard scanned over it for a moment.

“This is just for the rat. What about the contents of the cooler?” he questioned. “Also there’s only your signature on here—Dr. Johnson has to sign off as well. You know that!”

“Sorry, I’m not very good with forms. The rat has died, so I didn’t think I would need to bother Dr. Johnson with the paperwork.”

The guard peered into the cage, sighting the lifeless rat. Fiedler was visibly nervous and his excuses weren’t adding up. He wasn’t following protocol and the guard wasn’t going to let him go.

“You’ll have to leave the rat and whatever you have in the cooler here, until you have the paperwork.”

Suddenly the fire alarm sounded. The noise was incredibly loud. The other doctors from the lab rushed out, almost knocking into Fiedler and the guard. Smoke poured out of the lab. The guard grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall, ready for action.

Fiedler took the opportunity and started off down the hall, balancing all of his belongings. The guard was conflicted: chase the doctor or fight the blaze.

“Dr. Fiedler, you can’t take that!” he yelled.

“I can’t let it burn!” Fiedler yelled back as he rushed down the corridor, not even looking back.

***

“That was the last anyone saw of Dr. Fiedler,” Santiago said. “We think he released the infected rat into the wild, so to speak.”

Images flashed into Fuller’s mind of Fiedler releasing the rat into the alley and the rat being eaten by the cat. A bowl of Dragon, Tiger, Phoenix soup being placed before him. The cat meat floating in the broth. The chewy meat sliding down his throat. Parasites launching into his body. It all seemed to make sense now.