Quickly, Jack climbed up on the Fox. He opened the hatch and jumped inside. Reaching to close the hatch, a little arm reached in.
Jack had to ignore the fact it was a child. He had to fight the emotions within him and slamming the hatch, he severed the arm.
Breathing heavily, he had to take a moment.
“Sarge.” The voice of a soldier startled Jack.
Jack grabbed his chest. “You ok?”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Private Allan replied. “I barely made it in here. What do we do?”
“What we have to do.” Jack scrambled into the driver’s seat of the Fox. “We get out of here.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Saul had fallen asleep. He thought the sound of breaking glass had awoken him, but when he lifted his head, it was quiet.
In fact, at eight in the evening, Saul saw nothing on the screens, heard no noise at all except that which came from outside.
He didn’t bother looking. It was time to check subject eleven.
He looked at her an hour earlier and her fever had broken. It was a good sign. But that didn’t mean anything. Carlson was responsive and healthy and still turned.
The testing hall was noisy as the reanimated ones, strapped to their beds, cried out. Number eleven was at the end of the hall. Saul made his way to her. He stopped in total shock at the observation window when he saw her sitting on the bed.
“Remarkable.” Saul whispered, seeing her vital signs. They were normal.
“Doctor.” She called from the room. “I think it’s working. Look at my arm. Look.” She held it up. “It’s healing.”
Saul pressed the intercom. “Let’s keep hoping.” He smiled at her.
Yes. He thought. SP1 was a lucky hit. He may have had something there. Excited about his possible success, Saul turned and headed back down to his lab.
Just as he was about to enter, he heard the sound of breaking glass again. This time it was real.
Reaching for his lab door, he cocked his head to the left and saw that the glass door at the end of the corridor had cracked because of the massive number of undead who were relentlessly pounding at the door trying to get in. And it wasn’t going to be too long before they succeeded, Saul knew.
<><><><>
Steve had found the family cabin about six miles from Garrick’s fortress and that was where he had his belongings.
Lil went with him to the cabin.
They took Juan.
Steve would return to Garrick’s, but they had to take care of something first.
Irma was right.
It was inhumane what was happening to Juan.
But Steve had become attached to Juan and Lil knew how difficult it was for him.
It wasn’t easy for Lil either, and she kept hearing Irma’s words over and over again in her head.
In the cabin, Steve placed Juan in bed. He gave him the ball, and told the child to close his eyes. Juan did as he was asked.
Steve told him everything was going to be alright and that soon he would see his mother and father.
Though his mouth was decayed and cracked, Juan smiled.
Steve ran his hand over the boy’s head and said good night.
Lil slipped into the quiet room.
The child lay quietly on his back, not moving.
She slowly made her way to the bed and paused. There she said a silent prayer asking God to forgive her if what she was about to do was wrong. She asked that Juan go fast and peacefully.
Then Lil lifted her revolver. She placed a pillow over Juan’s head and before he could move or react. Then, with every muscle in her body shaking and with a fearful breaking heart, she pointed the revolver at the pillow, closed her eyes, and pulled the trigger.
<><><><>
How many did they hit? How many thumbs and bangs hit against the Fox? Jack tried with desperately to radio in what had occurred but couldn’t get a signal. His only hope was to keep driving out of Huntersville, and he did.
Jack failed.
He had no problem shooting the undead before but these were different. These were children.
And no matter what they were, no matter how badly they looked, when Jack saw them, they were still children and he couldn’t fulfill his job.
With that knowledge, Jack knew he was done.
He was going to be a statistic and one of those soldiers who just took off.
He was close enough to Garrick’s property and that was his plan.
Private Allan was fine with that, in fact he told Jack to do whatever he needed to do.
Jack got out of Huntersville first, and once at a safe distance, he pulled the Fox over.
He was done.
He told Private Allan he would be right back and climbed from the Fox.
Jack needed a moment, he needed some air, and he needed to call Saul.
<><><><>
“Full speed ahead.” The communication specialist relayed to General Lance.
“They’re what?” Lance asked.
“Full speed ahead, sir.”
“For what?”
A pause.
“Virginia.” The communications specialist replied. “At this rate, in seventeen minutes they’ll be aground.”
“What do we have in the area to take them out?” Lance asked.
“USS Washington and two other subs,”
“Instruct them all to lock in coordinates.” Lance ordered. “And take them out immediately.”
“Yes, sir.” The communications specialist picked up his radio. The second he did, an alarm sounded.
“What’s going on?” Lance asked.
“Sir.” The Communications specialist, with a drawn look, turned to Lance. “Their entire bay of trident missiles …. They overrode authority. They’re engaged.”
Lance grabbed the radio. “Officer Harold. This is General Lance, I order you to disengage your weapons and turn your vessel round.”
“We cannot do that,” Harold replied. “Permission to come ashore.”
“Permission denied.”
“We’ll ask one more time,” Harold said, “Permission to come ashore.”
“Permission denied.”
“Then we’re sorry.”
Lance spun to the communication specialist. “Are the other ships locked and loaded?”
“Locked and loaded.”
“Order them to fire at will.”
“Yes, sir.” The Communications specialist said, “USS Washington ... you are …”
Before he could finish his command, alarms blared.
“What’s going on?” Lance asked.
The communications specialist, his face an ashen white slowly quietly said, “They launched their entire bay.”
<><><><>
Saul had raced into his lab, grabbed the two vials of SP1 that remained, tossed them in his briefcase along with his phone and a revolver. He lifted the M-16 that rested on the counter and moved to the window.
His plan was to lock his lab door and escape through his office.
He was on the second floor.
But the moment he looked outside he knew that was futile.
The streets were swarming.
Swarming with undead.
Saul’s next thought was to get out of the building. With his briefcase and weapons he raced from the office.
His only option was the staircase. The hallway was till clear and safe.
He grabbed for the stairwell door and paused.
Number eleven.
Running down the hall, he raced to her room and opened the door, “Come on.” He told her. “We have to get out.”
She ran to him and he grabbed her arm, pulling her into the hallway.
They were only a few feet from the stairwell when the glass door at the end of the hall shattered and hoards of the undead broke their way in.
Frightened, Evelyn screamed and froze in stride.
“Move!” Saul shouted, tugging her to the door.
But the undead raced down the hall.
Saul opened the stairwell, slipped inside. She stood absolutely frozen in that hall.
“Come on!” Saul screamed. He was about to step forward, to grab on to number eleven and yank her into the stairwell, but he wasn’t fast enough.
An entire mob of undead tackled her like a football team. She screamed beneath them only briefly.
Saul knew it was useless to try to save her and reached to shut the stairwell door. One of the undead jumped in, knocking Saul back.
Saul was quick.
Snarling jaw coming at him, he put the revolver to the zombie’s temple and fired.
The attack stopped, Saul pushed the undead from him, hurried to his feet and bolted through the stairwell door.
Down was his first thought, until he peered over the rail to see massive numbers of undead a few staircases down.
So it was up.
From where he stood it was smooth sailing. No undead and Saul raced, like a man half his age, the five floors to the top of the building, emerging out on to the roof.
He had lost all ability to breathe normally and his chest burned with each breath he took.
Hands on his knees he took some time, but couldn’t take too much.
He could hear the undead in mad pursuit.
Stuck on that roof, he jammed the M-16 in the roof door handle to secure it.
He was safe, but for how long?
From the chaos of the streets, the wails and moans carried to him and Saul was ready to give up.
He walked across the roof and sat down to catch his bearings.
He looked at his revolver then reached into this briefcase. Pulling out his phone to dial, it happened again. The phone rang. Again it was Jack.
“Hello.” Saul answered.
“It’s Over, Saul, at least for me,” Jack spoke.
“Me, too Jack.”
“What’s going on?” Jack asked.
“We’re overrun.”
“I’m heading to the fortress now.”
“Good. Good.” Saul caught his breath. “Do me a favor, ok. Tell Irma I love her. To be strong and move on. Stay alive and watch our Jerry. But make sure she knows I love her.”
“Saul?” Jack questioned. “You aren’t coming.”
Saul chuckled emotionally. “Jack, I’m not able to. I won’t get there.”
“Try to get out. Just leave, Saul.”
“I wish I could,” Saul said. “But once again, I’m trapped at the CDC and the city is swarming. This time, I’m on the roof and it won’t be long before they get to me.”
“Saul.”
“It’s over for me, Jack. Tell my wife I love her.”
“No.” Jack said strong. “Tell her yourself. Hang tight, I’m on my way.”
“Jack.”
“No Saul, end of discussion, end of call. I’ll be there in ten hours. I won’t leave you. I’m on my way.”
“Jack.” Saul cried out, but the call ended. Saul tried to call Jack again, but it was useless.
Saul wasn’t giving up though. He sat on the roof, his back against a vent and phone in his hand. He’d keep trying to call Jack. He had to.
But he had to catch his breath and his bearings. He whimpered some in frustration and exhaustion. The revolver dangled in his hand and he knew he would use it eventually when the time came.
But before he did that, he had to get in touch with Jack. He had to tell him not to come; he didn’t get a chance to really tell him how bad Vermont was.
Catching his breath, Saul looked down to his hand and to the thin stream of blood that tricked just below his thumb.
Most importantly he had to get in touch with Jack to tell him coming to save him was in vain. Saul had been bitten.
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