Suzanne Robb - Contaminated - A Zombie Survival Novel

“Be careful, the last thing we need is to survive the contaminated only to die by scalding,” Frank said in a somewhat joking tone.

Smith didn’t acknowledge him and moved toward where they heard the noise. Arthur followed her and saw the cause before she did. The ceiling had enough wires, pipes, and vents snaking through it to power a small city. When the explosion happened, someone must have been working on patching a hole in the vent, even though that didn’t make sense. The facility was top of the line, brand spanking new.

Arthur tapped Smith on the shoulder and pointed up when he had her attention. The shuffling sound continued as whatever poor soul in the vent tried to get out.

“Give me a lift?” She held out her hands ready to grip his shoulders.

Arthur laced his fingers together and did as asked. He didn’t bother to argue with her, she was doing this to spite him, or she was crazy. When she stood, he wobbled a bit, but maintained. She grabbed the side of the vent and pulled on an area punctured from the inside. A second later, a large hole revealed the feet of the now contaminated maintenance man.

“I’m going to yank on them, get ready to shoot when he hits the ground,” Smith said.

Arthur glared even though he knew she couldn’t see it. “Then you better jump, or I’m going to drop you on your ass.”

Smith struggled with the visible limbs for several minutes, finally freeing the thing from the waist down. Arthur eased her down and they both pulled the rest of the man free. Smith put a bullet in his head a second after it hit the ground.

She moved on, but Arthur stayed. Something about the guy wasn’t right. He used the tip of his shoe to flip him over and shined the flashlight on him. A patch with the crest of Sunset Inc. appeared on his left upper arm. He wore body armor and had what appeared to be a climbing harness on.

“Crap,” he said to himself. This was part of their rescue team. Things just kept getting better and better.

He stepped over the body and came face to face with one of the contaminated. A woman, based on the long hair, though her face had been sliced off. Arthur let out a scream as he fumbled for his FNP. Her arms wrapped around him and she snapped at his neck. The plastic of his mask fogged up from his rapid breathing and no matter how hard he tried to remain calm, it wasn’t possible when a corpse was trying to eat your face.

As she pushed him backwards, he tripped over the body of the dead man at his feet and fell. His elbow sunk into the chest cavity of the corpse. He gagged at the feel of cool organs being smashed below him like rotten fruit. The fact he had a protective suit did nothing to assuage his worries about being infected. The woman continued to snap at him and got hold of part of the strap keeping his mask in place. She wriggled her head and he freaked as he felt the buckles loosen.

Arthur punched her in the face with a gloved hand, and sighed in relief when the strap didn’t break when her head snapped back. He rolled her over, grabbed the Baby Eagle from his waistband, and destroyed what was left of her face.

Breathing heavily, he picked up his backpack as he stood. All the while, he cursed Smith under his breath, they would be much safer if she got over the incident with the patch and went back to operating as a team. Then again, he had to admit for a novice that she had become a rather good shot in very little time. He wondered how many secrets she was keeping. With a shake of his head, he discarded the thoughts as paranoid.

Arthur moved slowly through the corridors of humming generators and water heaters wondering why the emergency power was so screwed up on the lower levels. To knock out electrical and emergency back-up systems, the majority of damage would need to have been done here. Arthur examined the room with a critical eye. Some soot stains on the ground could be explained by poor workmanship. The sparking of wires in some places could have any number of explanations.

Careful to keep a lookout for any of the wandering contaminated, Arthur came across a bundle of Semtex. The timer on it read 1:00. He followed a red plastic coated fuse from behind, and found at least six more packages. He felt his gut seize as he glanced around. Smith came up to him from an area he hadn’t explored, her face ashen.

“You’ll never guess--” they both said at the same time.

Arthur waved his hand and pointed to the bomb. “I have no idea how this gets triggered, but I suggest we aren’t here when it happens. With the amount of fuel and other flammables in here, the whole place will fold in on itself.”

Smith shook her head. “Great, then you don’t want to know that I found several bodies in the back corner, all with one shot to the head. Someone cleared the floor and I doubt it was that idiot Benson.”

“I think I know who it was. The body over there is wearing the logo for Sunset,” Arthur said.

“The one we pulled out of the vent? Why the hell would the rescue team be in there? In fact, how the hell did he get in there? It wasn’t from this level, so whoever cleared the floor is--”

Arthur interrupted, fear of more hazards taking over. “But, we would have run into them…unless they went up? Or they went down and got what they needed from the server room? Hell, they could be anywhere,” Arthur said with resignation, “We missed our chance to get out of here.”

Smith laughed and Arthur cringed at how dark it sounded. “You think whoever did this was here to rescue us? They probably have shoot on sight orders, and you’re forgetting they might also be infected by now. Going one on one with a horde can be overwhelming if you remember. And please use that brain of yours, Benson probably called them in.”

“But we don’t know how many of them were here. Probably not a one on one situation,” Arthur argued weakly.

“Whatever, if you want my advice on how to survive, then you must assume the worst – of everybody.”

Arthur watched her walk away and wondered if she would ever forgive him, or be the same after all this. He knew he sure as hell wouldn’t be. The things they’d seen and done had changed them in a fundamental level. He jogged to catch up to her, because the least he could do was keep an eye on her back.

Frank grabbed the muzzle of the M4 and twisted it out of the hands of the person holding it. He kicked him in the chest and aimed the gun at his head. His finger was a nanosecond away from pulling when he heard the voice.

“Don’t shoot, I’m not one of them,” the man pleaded.

According to his nametag, the guy was someone named Benson. Frank shoved him against the back wall of the stairwell and rammed the weapon against his throat. “Who the hell are you, and how the hell did you get up here?”

“Benson, my name is John Benson. I was assigned to Level 15 to work with Dr. Covington. There was an explosion; everybody was killed except for me. I raided the armory and I have been fighting my way out ever since. There’s something wrong with the others, it’s like their infected with something,” the man rattled off, fear in his voice.

Something didn’t feel right about the story he was being fed, so Frank pressed for more details.

“How does a lab guy like you know his way around weapons?” Frank asked easing up the chokehold a bit.

“I did a tour in the marines, four years.”

Frank stood back, because there was no way this guy was military. If he were, then Frank would have had to struggle a hell of a lot more to take the weapon away. “Everyone else died? You’re the only survivor? Is that what you’re telling me?”

Benson put his hands on his knees as he bent over and responded. “Yeah, just like I said.”