The Dead War Series (Book 1): Good Intentions Page 7

  “We have to get out of the city,” Henry Baker told him. “It's all on the news, some crazy shit's going on downtown and people are fucking dying!” He paused in his hysteria as his eyes traveled over Vincent's bloody clothes. Slowly he began to back away.

  Vincent looked down at his uniform, then back up at his neighbor, who was now looking at him as if he were an ax murderer. He didn't bother to explain why he was covered in blood. He didn't have the time anyway. Ignoring Henry's questioning gaze and a few other fearful and curious expressions from fleeing residents, he ran down the hallway toward his apartment. He reached into his pocket, his fingers feeling around for the tell-tale metal grooves of his keys and his lucky rabbit's foot keychain... Shit.

  He’d forgotten again that he left his wallet and keys back in his locker at SciTech Labs. Quickly, he ran back to the elevator, hoping he'd be able to get into the locked box behind the security desk to retrieve the spare key. After several excruciatingly long minutes, one of the elevators' bells dinged and a set of mirrored doors opened. Once again, he was bombarded by residents, this time, they were returning, no doubt for their belongings before evacuating, just like he was planning on doing.

  He climbed onto the lift and pressed the lobby button, hoping to get a straight ride down. He didn't. The elevator stopped on several floors, reaching its capacity to the point, two people were shoved off just to get the doors closed. Vincent was pressed painfully against the walls of the elevator. His chest was constricted by the pressure as he struggled to breathe. Is Fate this resolute to kill me on this day? What the fuck? He wondered as he considered all of his near-death experiences of the past hour.

  Finally, he made it to the lobby and was able to inhale his lungs to their full capacity once the other passengers fled the elevator. Vincent ran toward the security desk, hopping on the counter and sliding over to the other side with ease. Immediately, he located the locked key cabinet and looking around, found a metal stapler to hammer the little lock with. After several forceful pounds, the tiny latch holding the cabinet broke off and he yanked open the door.

  Condo number 4842. It was what he was looking for. Vincent snatched the key off the ring and dashed back over the counter. Just then, three people dressed in white bio-suit complete with helmets circled their way through the revolving door. In the lead carrying a brown purse and a black, metal case was a pretty African-American female with beautiful round eyes that conveyed the amount of concern Vincent felt. She had been talking on her cell phone as she made her way through the lobby.

  ***

  “Wait, are you Dr. Masterson,” Felicia asked, eying his blood-splattered lab bio-suit. She knew she was taking a wild guess, but she thought she might have her man.

  He walked over to them. “Dr. Anderson, I take it?” Vincent informally greeted.

  “Yes, it's him,” Felicia replied to the person on her cellular. “I'll call you later.” She ended her call, slipping the phone into her purse. “Dr. Masterson, I'm glad we caught up to you. This is Dr. William Bale and Dr. Samantha Grey.” She pointed to each person respectively. “We need to leave right now.”

  Vincent nodded. “That's my plan, Dr. Anderson, but I need to gather my research and my fiancée, she's on her way.” At least he prayed that Sarah listened to his damn message and was hauling ass back home.

  “We're going to have to make it quick, but the first thing I want to do is decontaminate you as much as possible. Whose blood is that?” Felicia asked as she and the others kept pace with Vincent toward the elevators.

  Vincent looked down at his ruined bio-suit. “It belongs to my co-worker, Dr. Henrick. He was bitten.”

  “So the blood could very well be contaminated?” Felicia asked, stepping back, slightly as did her companions.

  “I don't know. Possibly. I haven't had a lot of time to think about it. I've been hauling ass since everything went down,” Vincent said.

  “I want to take that suit to the lab and have it analyzed,” Felicia said.

  “Sure, of course.” Vincent couldn't help but feel contaminated now that the doctor had pointed it out.

  Adjacent from the elevators, the stairway door flew open as a few dozen people rushed through. Some of their luggage was so quickly packed that several articles of clothing hung from the suitcases. The people ran toward the emergency exit door, avoiding the revolving doors as they seemed to take too long.

  When the elevator doors opened, several more residents rushed off. They stepped to the side to avoid being knocked over by the stampede. Once the lift was free, they all climbed inside. Samantha's blue eyes bored into Vincent as if she were studying him. As much as he tried to ignore it, she made him feel uncomfortable as if she were judging him.

  Vincent nodded at each person. “First off, I haven’t had the chance to check the news, but are they getting the word out to the public to evacuate the area?”

  “Not at first, because we were trying to contain the situation. But on the way here, I instructed several major media stations to issue an alert for people to stay inside and lock their doors,” Felicia said.

  Vincent shook his head. “Staying—”

  The elevator doors opened on the twentieth floor, Felicia held her hand up, stopping the crowd from getting on. “CDC, this elevator is contaminated, please take another.”

  The panicked individuals took one look at their white bio-suits, one of them bloody and decided to take her advice. They backed away from the doors and the doors closed.

  “You were saying?” Felicia cocked a brow.

  “Staying inside might not be enough—” He paused again when the doors opened.

  Like before, Felicia stopped the people from climbing aboard. They made it to the forty-eighth floor and several people rushed them to get on the elevator, hastily rolling their luggage and fumbling with their cell phones as they made calls. This particular crowd ignored Felicia's warning about the contaminated elevator and they pushed past the doctors.

  Once again, he found himself fighting the residents to get off. This time he wasn't alone. Felicia and her associates shoved and slid their way passed the herd and managed to jump off the elevators safely.

  “As I was saying...” Vincent began as he jogged down the hall towards his apartment with his new companions in tow. “Staying locked inside their homes won't be enough. I've seen these things break through glass windows two inches thick like they were paper. Good news is it looks like the news is finally getting to some people. Leaving is the best option.” He slid the key into the lock and opened the door.

  Everyone entered and Vincent locked the door.

  “That was the last thing I wanted to do—issue an evacuation warning. With everyone trying to leave the city at one time, it's going to create a gridlock,” Felicia said. “But I may not have a choice. We don’t know what we’re dealing with here and the only reason why I'm not hauling you in for an interrogation is because my supervisor tells me you may have a clue about how to fix this.”

  “A clue might be giving me too much credit. I don't know what the hell is going on. I have some files here that might be able to help me piece some things together,” Vincent said, heading into his bedroom with Felicia in tow. He slid out of his bloody clothes revealing a casual wardrobe of dark blue button-up shirt and brown khakis.

  “Put those in this plastic bag,” Felicia ordered. She had removed a sterile plastic bag from the kit she confiscated from Dr. Bloomberg's truck. She knew it would come in handy.

  Vincent did as he was told, putting the bio-suit inside the clear plastic bag Felicia held open. She sealed the bag close and then pulled another two bags out of the black case—one large, one medium size. Then she made a general gesture towards the rest of his clothes.

  “You know the drill, Doctor,” Felicia said.

  “Yeah, I know.” Vincent stripped naked, placing his shirt in one bag and his pants, underwear, socks and shoes in the other larger bag.

  “All right, I was serious about the sh
ower. If we had the resources, I'd have you scrubbed down really good. We don't know how this virus is being transferred and I'm not letting you take any more chances with public safety,” Felicia said.

  “It was a matter of life and death. Sorry if I didn't have time to change out of my blood-stained clothes into something more pristine while I was running for my life,” Vincent remarked as he walked towards his bathroom.

  “It's a necessary precaution, Dr. Masterson,” Felicia said in her most professional and no-nonsense tone. “Now, would you prefer Dr. Bale to perform the procedure or me?”

  “You,” Vincent answered without any hesitation. The idea of having a man scrub down his naked body didn't appeal to him in the least, medical protocol be damned.

  “Very well. Step into the shower, please and face the wall.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Vincent fussed. Still, he didn't bother to argue with the tough-as-nails-bitch from the CDC. He stepped into the shower facing the wall and stood under the barely tolerable spray of cold water.

  “Ahhh, shit!” he said

  Felicia removed a plastic bottle with a cloudy solution inside it. “Do you have a brush?” she said as she looked around the bathroom.

  “Sarah's got one of those loofas. That’s the best I can do,” Vincent remarked.

  “This isn't a game Dr. Masterson. I'm trying to save lives and protect people. The last thing I wanted to do when I woke up this morning is scrub a grown ass man down because he may be contaminated with a deadly virus.” Felicia reached for the loofa disinfecting it. “Arms up.”

  He did as he was told. Fighting what he knew was the right move wasn't productive, so he decided to tone down his attitude. Felicia scrubbed down his back, buttocks, thighs and legs. In spite of everything that was going on, a part of him couldn't help but become a bit aroused and this was why he refused to turn around when she told him to.

  “Ah, I think I can take it from here... please,” Vincent said, peaking over his shoulder. “Like you said, I know the drill.”

  Felicia caught the hint. She did have to admit, he had a nice ass and package. But that was unimportant to her at the moment. “Fine. But get every crevice.” She handed him the loofa and stood back.

  Vincent made sure to cleanse his entire body all over again and then he rinsed off. Felicia handed him a towel and he dried himself quickly. He shivered slightly as his body temperature readjusted itself to a normal level.

  “We're going to have to work together if we're going to get a handle on this situation, Dr. Masterson,” Felicia said.

  “I know and I agree completely.” Vincent wrapped the towel around his waist, securing it in place.

  “Good. I'm willing to hear your suggestions.”

  “What I really want to do is get to my partner's home before it’s too late and retrieve his hard drives and computers...” Vincent paused, his mouth forming a perfect “O” as his eyes bulged from their sockets. “Oh my God! His wife! She has to get out of town, but maybe if I can reach her, she can pack his research data for us.”

  He ran to his desk, immediately scanning through his digital Rolodex, searching for Dr. Pierce's number. He found it and snatched up the cordless phone, punching the numbered buttons with no small measure of haste. He stood there, listening to the telephone ring several times before their voice mail answered the call, droning out the standard greeting.

  “Shit!” Vincent cursed, but still, he left a message indicating how important it was that she gathered her husband’s research—as much as she could carry. He ended the call, and then tried his fiancée once again.

  This time, she answered.

  “Sarah! Oh thank fucking God!” Vincent all but screamed into the telephone.

  “Vincent? Oh thank God you're alive!” Sarah replied in a breathless voice.

  “Where are you?” Vincent asked.

  “I just ran into the building, I'm waiting on an elevator. Whatever the hell those things are, they're coming. I saw them, Vincent. I saw what they were doing. God! Won't the elevator move any fucking faster?!” Sarah fussed as she twitched and fidgeted while waiting for the doors to open. If they didn't open in the next five seconds, she was going to take the stairs. Forty-eight floors, be damned. She's rather die of a heart attack then be eaten alive any day of the week.

  “Oh thank goodness! All right, I'm in the condo packing our shit. We're getting out of here,” Vincent told her.

  The elevator doors finally opened and more people spilled out, pushing past Sarah with absolutely no regard for her toes, shoulders, or anything else on her body.

  “Ow! You asshole!” Sarah shouted at one of the men who smashed her big toe under the heel of his sneaker. The man continued on without even so much as a backward glance.

  “What happened?” Vincent asked, concerned.

  “I'm all right. Considering the urgency of this situation, I'll forgive peoples’ rudeness. I should be one to talk anyway, I knocked a few people down and out of my way running to get back home after I got your message,” Sarah said. “I'm heading up now.”

  “Okay, good. I have to finish packing. I'll see you when you get here. I love you so much,” Vincent said, feeling every word with all his heart.

  “I love you, too.” Sarah slipped her cell phone back into her pocket as she watched the level lights turn bright red with each floor she passed. The elevator stopped at several floors and more people climbed on board. They didn't care that it was going up first; they were willing to do that if it meant soon they'd be going back down towards the exit.

  ***

  Vincent went back into his bedroom with Felicia. He pulled a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt from his dresser and dressed quickly. Next he packed a large duffel bag with clothes and items he felt were of the utmost necessity. With one good swipe of his arm, he swept several toiletry items off the shelf in the bathroom into the bag. Toilet paper, toothpaste, soap, deodorant and a box of tampons all went into the bag.

  “That will have to do for now,” Vincent muttered to himself.

  “You want to tell me how all of this started?” Felicia asked her tone straightforward and commanding.

  Not really. I swear, how many times am I going to have to go over this? Vincent thought.

  Fact of the matter was, he was far too ashamed and no matter how he looked at it, he couldn't shake his feelings of guilt from his involvement.

  “I feel like I keep repeating myself. I've already told you everything I know,” Vincent said.

  “Well tell it to me again. Every. Single. Detail.” Felicia stood there, arms crossed over her chest. She waited.

  Vincent paused and looked up at her. The entire city was in a fucked up situation because of something he was involved in. He could tell by the look in her eyes, despite her professional demeanor; she was holding him at least partly responsible. Part of him couldn't blame her. Still, he put aside his own issues. They needed his help—whatever help he could offer—not his self-pity. He began to talk as he cleaned out his secret money stash hidden in several books on his nightstand bookshelf.

  “The ape was dead, I swear it. There weren’t any readings on the monitor. We had just discovered the breakthrough we’d been looking for. It would have revolutionized the world. Heal diseases and strengthen our military force all at the same time. It was going to make history,” Vincent said in his defense.

  Felicia snorted. “Yeah, well whatever the hell you did is making history. So, at what point did it all go wrong?”

  Vincent flinched at her bluntness. Destroying humanity isn’t one of the things he wanted to go down in history for. Curing cancer—most definitely. Curing AIDS—oh hell yeah! Creating healing rations for soldiers on the battlefield—just hand over the Nobel Peace Prize. But this shit, what the fuck!?

  Vincent couldn’t really fault her for the harsh dose of truth. He felt he’d earned that and more—maybe a swift kick in the nuts. In all honesty, he couldn’t believe his rhetoric himself. He never did have the confidenc
e in their project the other scientists had. Something about it always rubbed him the wrong way and with good reason considering what was going on around them.

  “Hey?” Felicia snapped.

  Vincent blinked and looked at her.

  “Get back to the story please,” she reminded.

  “I’m sorry,” Vincent said, forcing himself to stay on track. “I guess I can always contemplate my hubris later, right?”

  “I don't give a damn what you do later as long as we take care of what's happening now,” Felicia shot back. “I don't think you're taking this as seriously as you should.”

  Vincent's brows creased and his lip turned up in a sneer. “Don't presume to tell me what I'm feeling or thinking. You weren't there when I saw my friends get ripped to fucking pieces by that damn ape,” he snapped.

  “Fair enough. Stay focused then. I need you here,” Felicia said, pointing from his eyes to hers with her first two fingers.

  Vincent nodded and continued. “Well, the ape bit my colleague...” His voice trailed off as he thought about Dr. Henrick. “My God.”

  “What?” Felicia asked, turning around to see if he was seeing something she didn’t.

  “Dr. Henrick, he was the first bitten, the first infected. We rushed him off to Mercy Hospital,” Vincent said.

  Felicia’s expression grew solemn. “That would explain why the hospital was the second call on our radar. It was overrun by the time we got there, as was SciTech. My team and I had met up with a team of doctors from the IDPH. The hospital was surrounded by police and some of the officers had already gone inside. As a precaution, Dr. Bloomberg had suggested William stay behind in his truck to monitor transmission. He and his team went inside; I was on my way to follow them when you contacted me. Had I not received your call, I would have ended up like them.”

  “What happened?” Vincent asked. He already had an idea, but he wanted to know what she saw so that he could judge just how bad things were.

  “They weren’t in there five minutes before Michael... Dr. Bloomberg contacted me over the radio. He said something about there’s too many of them and that they were fast. I told him to get the hell out of there. I was going to let the police lock it down. We had no idea what to expect going in, I thought it was something we could contain from the inside. Quarantine the infected, you know the drill. We didn’t even have time to talk to any of the doctors. No one was left alive inside… well, alive-alive.”