Suzanne Robb - Contaminated - A Zombie Survival Novel

Frank nodded, words too difficult to form at the moment. Sparks flashed in front of his eyes as Carson pulled the bone straight and the sound of them grinding against one another caused another bout of nausea.

“I’d give you something for the pain, but we can’t risk removing the masks. I can give you a shot…” Carson left the statement hanging as he poured providone-iodine over the shredded skin. Frank watched as it hissed and bubbled. With careful movements, Carson wrapped the injury in gauze then used the cast in a can as Frank thought of it.

“That should take care of it, take a few minutes and I’ll check on the others.” Carson turned to leave but Frank used his other arm to catch his attention.

“Why are you doing this?” Frank asked, he had to know about Carson’s sudden change of attitude.

Carson picked up a broken bit of something then let it fall out of his hand. “I got sucked into some bad stuff because of decisions I made. Dixon was killed for no good reason, and I just watched Lightfoot getting crushed between the door of the next level and the wall. He’s currently three inches thick. You see something like that happen and it’s hard to know who the good guys are.” Carson moved away, but threw one last comment over his shoulder, “I know I’m an ass, but that doesn’t mean I like being screwed over by the people I work for.”

Frank let his head rest against the wall behind him. Carson sounded sincere enough, and for the time being that was all that mattered. He looked down at his mangled arm and hoped if they made it out of here he’d be able to keep it. An amputee had no future in weapons development. He wouldn’t even be able to hold a gun. He idly wondered if Selena would think less of him if he lost an arm. Funny the things you thought about when endorphins, adrenaline, and pure fear raced through your veins.

As if she could read his mind, Selena hobbled next to him and sat. Her legs were a crisscrossed pattern of cuts and gashes and he wanted to offer to tend them, but wasn’t able in his current condition.

“See something you like?” she asked.

Frank glanced up at her with a confused expression then blushed as he realized he’d been caught staring at her legs.

“Sorry, I was just wondering if you wanted them taken care of. I have some disinfectant…” Frank stammered.

“Don’t worry, you can make it up to me by taking me to dinner when we get out of here, but first let’s get you on your feet and see if we can find Dr. Covington.”

Frank let her give him a hand even though it went against his personality. If forced at gunpoint he would admit it was rather nice, and he felt weak. He let go of her hand and tried to clear some of the dust from the air. Every time he made some progress, another boom would rattle the building and a new plume shot through the room.

Marshall jumped out of his seat when the screen lit up like a damn fireball was coming at him. After that, his monitors showed only static.

“Liz, what the hell just happened in there?” he yelled.

The door to his office opened and a harried looking young man entered. “Sir, we have a problem,” he panted.

“I saw, care to explain? Your job depends on it,” Marshall snarled.

“We think someone rigged Level 8 with explosives. Whoever it was also used our signal to watch what was happening. They triggered the explosion for the least amount of casualties meaning they wanted Dr. Covington alive, or there’s a spy among them.”

Marshall didn’t like this at all. His yacht was ready to go, all he had to do was pick up his man and Dr. Covington, then get the hell out of dodge. Now someone else was involved and he knew it wasn’t Hooks, the man was in the dark about everything, and an idiot to boot.

“Is there any way we can get the signal back?” Marshall asked, doubt laced his words.

The man shook his head. “Sir, the facility is crumbling as we speak. This attack wasn’t to knock out visual, but to take down the entire structure. I doubt we can get our team back at the rate it’s collapsing.”

“Get out of here and do something useful, back-up all the data and video footage we have of that place. I want to know who set the charges. I also want to know how the best minds, who I pay a hell of a lot of money for, didn’t notice someone hitching a ride on their damn system! And you find a way to get our team out of there or I’ll kill your whole damn division.”

The moment his door closed Marshall reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell.

“I was wondering when you’d call,” An all too calm voice answered.

“I need a team, and full protective gear. We need to be at the rendezvous point a.s.a.p.” Marshall tried to sound casual.

A laugh answered him, “You have enough money to cover that? You want us to go into a zone the military just sent out orders to nuke? We have two hours to get it done, if you’re people aren’t there I’m leaving, and keeping the money.”

The line went dead. Marshall stared at the device in shock. They were going to bomb the area in question? Things just escalated to a whole new level of scary. He tossed some papers in his briefcase and grabbed a few other items without thinking.

“Liz, get in here, dammit,” he yelled.

A woman with pale skin, deep frown lines, and a tight bun on the back of her head poked her face in. “Yes, Sir?”

“I want you to go home, get your family and set the yacht up for operation in ninety minutes.”

Liz nodded and turned as she shut the door. Marshall stared at the monitors willing them to come back on but nothing occurred. He grabbed his coat and walked out the door. Time to get his ass moving.

Arthur heard movement near him, but the disorientation from the blast made everything sound like he was underwater. He moved a bit and let out a groan. Moments later, he felt hands on him, fingers checking his head and wiping a thick layer of white powder off his mask, then someone yanking him to his feet.

He glanced around in a daze and saw Frank. He looked like hell, his arm bloody and an odd-looking cast on it. Selena looked beautiful, but something about her smile toward him didn’t seem right. Ever since she took him aside and said, they needed to work as a team, because the others didn’t understand what it was like for civilians, he felt as if she was always watching him.

He shook his head and noticed the others were talking to him, pointing to his ears he covered them and said he couldn’t hear them. They nodded in understanding and as a group moved to the lower level.

The damage was catastrophic. The stairs were non-existent and long portions of rebar stuck out all over the place. How more of them weren’t more seriously injured or dead boggled his mind.

As they passed what was left of Lightfoot, Arthur felt a bit of bile rise in his throat. He fought it as he looked at Frank’s mask and saw the bits of vomit on his face. Arthur didn’t want to spend whatever time he had left like that, so he forced the taste of bile down.

As they entered the level that he and Smith vacated earlier, the magnitude of the destruction hit him. The ceiling was nothing but a tangle of melted wire and wrinkled vents. Cinder blocks and other large bits of concrete once part of the walls were now spread all over the place.

Fire illuminated the room, bursts of gas leaking from exposed lines, or insulated cables that hadn’t fully disintegrated yet. Cracks lined the floor and certain sections were gone entirely, fallen into the abyss of the lower levels. Water dripped in some sections, gushed from others.

The areas of wall blown out exposed dirt, and the old missile bay in certain parts. Arthur wondered how much longer the place would hold. With explosions still reverberating through the ground beneath them and the likelihood that other levels were loaded with Semtex packages as well, Arthur knew their very own doomsday clock had moved up several notches.