Outbreak Read online

  PART 1

  INFECTED EARTH: OUTBREAK

  BY A. L. CARTER

  Content Advisory: This book is intended for mature audiences and contains graphic violence, explicit sexual activity and disturbing imagery

  Copyright © 2018 A. L. CARTER.

  [email protected]

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  All characters, locations, and events are a work of fiction from the author’s imagination and any resemblance to people, places or events are purely coincidental.

  For Dinah...

  A loyal and faithful friend to the end.

  Chapter 1

  Who am I?

  He felt himself beginning to wake, but his head span, seeing only darkness but beginning to become light around the edges. The pain hit him from everywhere, back, legs, arms, and head. Sharp knives stabbed at the back of his eyes, letting out a groan but that made things hurt more, mouth and throat were so dry. Vision becoming brighter but blurred, like an old telly trying to tune in a better picture. He tried to sit up but quickly decided against it as everything got worse. Closing his eyes again seemed to help; he just lay there, trying not to think too much...

  Time passed but he didn’t know how long, the pain was still there but not as bad, more of an overall soreness. He attempted to open his eyes again with somewhat more success it was dull and could make out some outlines and shapes. Minutes passed and things improved, but there was not a great amount of light. The light only seemed to be coming from rectangular windows in the ceiling or most likely a high roof. Managing to sit up albeit very slowly as everywhere ached in protest, his head began to spin again but this passed and was able to stand tentatively. Looking around more thoroughly he appeared to be in a large warehouse constructed of corrugated steel. Either side of him was solid steel shelves, which went in rows across the warehouse with space enough to get a forklift truck easily in between. Stood in the middle of these rows and looking straight up there was an open skylight, letting in daylight, which was failing. Trying to think what time it usually got dark did not come to him willingly, which was the same as everything else. The realization he did not know where he was and what had happened to him.

  “Shit who the fuck am I?” somebody spoke, he did not recognize the voice looking around but finding no one else.

  Head throbbing so He touched it and winced sucking in a breath, the skin felt crusty under his fingers. Bringing his hand up to eye level, they looked like they were smeared black? No red, it was the poor light. Did he bang his head, but how? Looking up at the open skylight, then following it down to where he stood gave the most credible answer. Blood smeared several of the lower shelves, looking around I saw a pile crushed boxes, very conveniently placed on the hard concrete floor with some with blood on them. Looking at the open skylight and the distance I must have tried to climb down, twenty feet maybe more.

  “Why would I even attempt a climb like that?” that voice again.

  Looking down at myself in an attempt to recognize something, my whole body was bloated, and it must have been a long time since I saw my own feet. Why did I wake up with this body, massively overweight it was hard work just standing. A fall like that should have ended much worse. Then he noticed more dried blood smeared down his right forearm, presuming that it was just blood from his head but inspecting it anyway. It was not from his head.

  Two deep crescent shape wounds faced each other, each showing individual teeth marks, looking like a human bite? Then light failed and suddenly worry overwhelmed him. His head spun again and he felt like he was going to be sick. Before he passed out again he clambered onto the pile of boxes.

  Light crept into his vision as he began to wake, lying on a pile of crushed boxes. Where was he again? Oh yes, the warehouse, but he did not know why he was here. Did he climb then fall from the skylight, as if he was escaping from something, remembering the bite he inspected the wound again? Which was caked in dry blood, swollen and sore. He needed to look at his head as well, looking around there must be a toilet or staff room around with a first aid kit in It. He looked around the path of his fall and in the better light, he noticed something on one of the shelf’s picking it up. It was a pair of glasses. The frame somewhat twisted and the lenses smeared with some blood. As best as he could he straightened the frames and tried them on. They fit comfortably and indeed they did improve his eyesight, even with the red tinge so he guessed that these were his then? He walked to the end of the shelves and then along a marked walkway he soon found a toilet. First things first he needed to relieve himself and attended to that first.

  “Ah man that's better.” that voice again.

  After what seemed a long time he approached the sinks with mirrors facing him. Looking directly into the mirror a stranger stared back at him, he tried to recognize the features, but they meant nothing to him. His voice and face were a stranger to him.

  “You look fucked mate,” the man in the mirror exclaimed.

  The previous night’s judgment had not been wrong he was certainly a heavyweight, that being an understatement. Maybe six foot tall, bald head and pudgy face, caked in dried blood and grime. It was hard to tell how old he was, probably looking older than he really was. Turning on the taps he tentatively began to wash away the blood and grime. Revealing the graze and cut to his forehead in more detail. It could have been worse. On the other hand, maybe it was worse than it looked as he could have a concussion, memory loss, or worse a bleed on the brain. He really needed an emergency room. Eventually, he was clean, even the blood on his arm, revealing the bite wound in all its angry detail. Suddenly realized how thirsty he was and he drank directly from the cold tap, ducking deeply for several minutes eventually quenching his thirst. Looking at the wounds again he realized that they really needed disinfecting and covering to reduce the risk of infection. There must be a staffroom around here. Leaving the toilet, he soon found it. It made sense, as the bosses wouldn’t want to delay the staff in getting back to work. He was not sure whether he had worked in a place like this but he knew the philosophy of time means money. Robots came to mind. The staffroom was a fair size catering for a large influx of staff, a seating area with tables and chairs and even a few sofas.

  “And I slept on some bloody boxes,” the stranger was becoming more familiar.

  There were several snack machines, although they were generally the unhealthy type, this seemed to mean nothing to him. He realized that he felt no love for any particular food group having no memory of his past eating habits although he guessed they were poor. He scanned the environment. There was a kitchenette with a fridge, microwave, kettle, toaster, cupboards and draws but no medkit. Not ready to give up yet he found a short corridor with two doors the first being a cleaning cupboard and the first aider room. He tried the door, which was locked of course. His brain ticked over for a few moments. Then he surprised himself, drew his knee up and gave a forceful kick just below the lock. Looking puzzled for a moment as if his kick had betrayed him not having the force that he expected. The second kick finished the job although not satisfied with its power. A strange way of thinking like his body was a new car and he was taking it for a test drive. His crimes were mounting up, breaking into the place now this? However, he seemed unconcerned; did his subconscious know something he did not? Quickly he found gauze and disinfectant, bathing the areas in front of a convenient mirror. Wincing frequently as this stung painfully. Then he applied self-adhesive dressings to c
over his head and arm, giving them some protection. That's one job finished. Now, where was he, did he need to get to a hospital? Going back out into the warehouse area he looked for an exit. There were several fire exits entrance door and some big sliding shutters. The fire doors would probably be alarmed as long as there was power, but he was reluctant to draw attention to himself. He puzzled at this, seemingly suffering from anaesthesia, concussion and possibly an infected bite. Isn’t that just what he needed? Walking over to the entrance doors and trying the handles, they were locked and the shutters were locked. Looking around, he had always assumed the place was empty, but surely, workers would turn up soon. Checking his pockets, he found nothing, no mobile phone, no wallet. He needed information so he began walking around the warehouse looking for clues. On the walls, he saw posters and calendars showing various images of different suppliers advertising fitness equipment and sportswear. Eventually, he came across a door marked office, which he paused in front of with some trepidation.

  Feeling silly, he opened it quietly and slowly. It took a few seconds for him to register what he was seeing. It had two desks each with monitors and computers on them, papers spread out on top, as you would expect and swivel chairs behind each. He felt like his heart was going to burst through his chest, suddenly covered in a cold sweat. Bile came into his mouth burning his throat. The scene that played out before his eyes could not be real. A man sat on the floor looking up at him, this may not be so unusual but blood was everywhere plastering the walls, furniture, paperwork, and floor. In addition, the fact that while he was looking up at him he was chewing on a foot. A foot that was connected to a leg that was already eaten down to the bone, barely attached to a woman, which had large sections of her eaten away. Stomach tore open, some entrails remaining, the chest cavity open, the heart is gone and lungs hanging out. The only place left not chewed on was her face even with the blood smearing it showed a young girl in her early twenties. This seemed to make the whole scene more sick and perverse. The strangest thing was that the man in his forties, tall and muscular, just looked at him with an innocent look on his face as if it was the most natural thing in the world. This did not last long though; it began to eye up this potential and more fulfilling meal. It began to stand or at least tried to as the floor was slippery with blood and it was as if it was unsure how to mobilize, as a newborn would. He then noticed how much the thing's stomach had distended. Just constantly force-feeding itself on the raw flesh and not realizing that it was full. Then it growled and moaned a horrible primaeval sound. Then there was an ominous gurgling noise, followed by the sound of bowels letting loose, completely. He was so terrified initially he thought that it was himself.

  "You dirty bastard," he reported, covering his nose, but standing there transfixed instead of turning and running for all he was worth.

  The thing had made it to its feet, but opened its mouth and vomited in his direction, completely purging its system in seconds its stomach deflating back to where it should be. He was caught in the path of this wave of vomit containing blood, guts, flesh and probably carrots. He, of course, was covered in the deathly gruel. Knowing that he should have run, but instead, he stood there transfixed now vomiting himself adding to the fowl mix on the floor. The thing managed to stand but was unable to stay upright skating on the spot until the inevitable happened and fell heavily into one of the desks. The head catching the edge of the desk followed by a sickening crack as neck broke and completely gave way head flapping around aimlessly. But he was shocked because the thing was still alive, flopping around on the floor like a bad break-dancer. It was too much him as he started to laugh uncontrollably at the ludicrously of the situation. Sick to some but maybe a good coping strategy as he seemed better able to cope with this situation. If the thing hadn't fallen it would have made it to him, then undoubtedly his fate would have been the same as the girls. The thing steadily crawled towards him unable to stand in the mess.

  "Zombie!" he accused aloud, pointing as if to emphasize what he was looking at and feeling ridiculous as he did it.

  The zombie moaned in agreement. He had to put an end to this before it was able to find some way that it could stand and although its head flopped around on a broken neck, its teeth still chomped as if anticipating eating his flesh. He grabbed a heavy fire extinguisher from a nearby wall, and walked to the edge of the filth and waited for it to get near. Raising the extinguisher high he waited until its head was close until it looked up at him. That innocent look again.

  "Sorry mate!" he exclaimed as he brought the heavy cylinder down hard.

  Proceeding to smash the things brains out he felt like a mad man crying out as he did so. After the tenth blow, the top the head was completely gone, skull fragments going in all directions followed by chunks of brain matter and more blood. He was also completely shattered, collapsing in an ungraceful heap, sucking in air and heart pounding rapidly.

  "I've got to get fucking fit," he wheezed and then proceeded to pass out face first in blood and brains.

  Eventually, he came to, not sure how long he had been out for it was still light out but the blood stuck to his face in sticky gobbets meaning it had had time to dry somewhat. Back to the bathroom, he went through the annoying process of getting cleaned up again, although this time he felt like he had just come off the set of a video nasty. Or zombie flick. His t-shirt was covered in blood but he just wiped it off for now with wet then dry paper towels. Redressing his earlier wounds as before, he returned to the office bloodbath. Shit, the bodies need putting out the way and all the blood, guts and shit needs cleaning up. He paused.

  "Fuck that I need a brew!" He sighed and headed for the staffroom.

  Chapter 2

  Doctor Oswald

  Dr Jacob Oswald was the lead scientist on a project, which was to create a virus that had the potential to destroy other viruses such as influenza, bird flu, swine flu, and other potentially worse mutating viruses. These viruses were known for killing thousands of people each year. But the real worry was that one of these mutated viruses had the potential to wipe out all or most of the population. Therefore, he and his team were spearheading new research in the possibility of a 'good' virus. The project started over a year ago and had been so far unsuccessful and in fact disastrous. Several attempts had been made to modify know viruses but with devastating results. Almost all of the earlier batches of the modified virus resulted in killing lab animals rats, dogs, cats, and even primates. The project had been green-lighted from the powers that be to disregard normal protocols as the research was deemed ‘priority'. These unfortunate results kept repeating until the sixth batch which looked promising as all animal test subjects seemed to be getting better and in fact thrived. After three months of tests, it was given the okay to move onto human test subjects. Again orders from the top that prisoners would be used for this level of testing. This was illegal but who was going to care about ‘prisoners', the public already thought that they had it easy. If the word did get out, they were likely to be uninterested in their plight. Anyway, it would not get out because there were always ways to cover these things up. Nevertheless, he did not have to worry about any of that that was the role of the men in black type figures, who worked above the law and in the shadows. These test subjects were transferred in the dead of night without their knowledge or consent and transferred to this secret medical research facility. Even he did not know the location as he was blindfolded both when travelling to and from and had to abide by the official secrets act. He believed that he was selected for this role not just for his credentials. However, he had no close family and no partner. After attending many interviews with unexpected questions about his morals and how much did mean to him to get results? More importantly, would he break the rules to get those results? He was indeed prepared to break the rules to get the results he craved, knowing how important this research could be to the future of the human race. So did he care that some animals died then no and he cared even less for prisoners. Wh
ich were all lifers, murders, rapists, and terrorists anyway? So now, he had ten test subjects that two days earlier were infected with a virulent strain of swine flu and were now suffering those effects. The subjects were all tough men but now sick and suffering. Jacob had now given the order for their most recent batch of Virus number 6. He stood on the viewing platform above all ten Tough-glass cells, excitement rising. Forcing this down as it could all amount to failure so he prepared himself for further study. After all, injections were administered there was no initial effect and all subjects remained the same. Well, what did he expect at this early stage? Jacob returned to his office so he could monitor them in more comfort. He would be staying overnight as he did not want to miss anything and a pull out sofa bed would suffice. Passing the many vending machines that were available in the facility, he picked up a sandwich and a coffee or whatever passed for a sandwich and coffee anyway. In his office, he relaxed into his chair and logged into his terminal. Four large screens came to life, which gave him a detailed view of all the cells, which could be focused on any cell he needed to study closer. He clicked on number 6; hopefully, batch 6 and subject 6 would be his lucky number. The subjects life signs were all monitored and appeared at the top right-hand corner of the screen. He raised an eyebrow that looked promising. This one's temperature had dropped and the fever seemed to have dissipated. The subjects blood pressure and heart rate now in the normal range. Wow, that was fast he thought recording these details in the patient log. Was this just a fluke he wondered so he checked the other subjects and was amazed to see the same results? All subjects seemed to be in rapid recovery. So much so in fact subjects were coming around and sitting up and no doubt wondering what was going on and what were they doing here. On the surface, it appeared to be an amazing success story but Jacob would not allow himself to celebrate yet. Because of their sudden recovery, the subjects were now becoming rowdy so he gave the order for sedatives to given and it was not long before things quieted down as subjects fell into a deep sleep. With that rectified, he ate the sandwich, pulled out the makeshift bed and was soon asleep himself.