Suzanne Robb - Contaminated - A Zombie Survival Novel

Frank walked to a burnt out control panel and pried the cover off with his good hand. Arthur cringed at the string of words that came out of the man’s mouth. Using the elevator was out of the question. Then again, even if it was working by some miracle of God, Arthur wouldn’t get in it on the off chance that’s what whoever was playing with them was waiting. The fact the shaft was now home to tons of rock and other debris, another good reason.

“Frank, if I could just say something,” Arthur started.

“Dr. Covington, unless it has to do with a way to get out of here, I don’t want to hear it,” Frank said.

Arthur determined what he wanted to say had something to do with getting out of there, so went ahead, “Please call me Arthur, and the way I see it there are two opposing teams. One wants us to succeed, the other doesn’t. We get a message to come to this level only to get ourselves blown up.” Arthur stopped talking to investigate a portion of the floor beneath his feet. “Anyway, it would seem neither one of our spies knows who their master is either. Otherwise, they would have tried to talk us out of coming here. So, we need to proceed with caution and trust our guts.” Arthur finished.

Frank walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Like I said, unless it has something to do with getting out of here, I don’t want to hear it, Doc,” Frank said.

Arthur sighed. “Then we need to go up. If you noticed, there were no explosions above this point. But we need to hurry before the basic structure is weakened so much that it caves in on itself.”

“You heard the man, back up to the main room.” Frank dropped the panel from his hand and walked out.

Arthur followed behind and helped the man as they struggled over several tons of rubble to reach the entryway. They were short at least six feet since the stairs had crumbled to baseball-sized rocks, so they worked with one another to make a human ladder. Since Frank was the strongest, he remained against the wall as the rest of the group used him to reach the next level.

Carson reached his hand down and with Smith and Arthur holding onto his legs, helped Frank up. Once they stood together again, they discovered the blast from below must have caused the floor in the current room to shatter, but it maintained its form due to all the support beams and rods of metal running through the six feet of cement.

In the dark, using only one flashlight to save on batteries, they sidled against the wall to reach the door on the other side. Arthur wondered what they were going to do if it was locked, and if it wasn’t, how long until the traitor among them showed their true colors.

Frank’s arm throbbed and he fought to remain conscious. Every time he felt close to losing it, he thought of Selena. He’d read about tragedy and drama bringing two people together and wondered if that was going on with them. Whatever it was, he liked it.

As he led the group, he thought about Lightfoot and felt like an ass for even thinking he might be a traitor. He hoped his friend didn’t die thinking Frank doubted his allegiance. Then he wondered what they would do if the door was locked. They could use one of the Semtex devices from Carson’s bag. The one good thing about what happened below was a kink must have been put in the gas line that had been leaking up here.

About fifteen feet from the door, Frank shined the flashlight in the direction of some noise. The freezer door glinted back at him – open.

“Crap, be on the lookout people, we’ve got a nasty on the loose,” Frank warned them as he swung the light to and fro.

A scream made them all stop.

“It’s got Carson, I think.” Arthur yelled.

Frank left his position at the front and aimed the beam toward the back. Three nasties were on Carson, two latched onto his leg by the knife wound Frank gave him earlier. During the explosion, the bandage was shredded and fresh blood poured down his leg. A third nasty had its hands wrapped around Carson’s neck, ripping and tearing at the mask. Smith stood next to him staring in horror. Frank couldn’t take a shot without the risk of hitting Smith or Arthur.

“Either help him, or move it, you idiots. I need a clear shot.” Frank raised his FNP.

Arthur snapped out of his shock first and pulled Smith out of the way seconds before one of the nasties on the ground almost bit her hand. Frank fired and took down the one choking Carson as it tried to bite his face through the mask again and again.

Arthur used the Sig to put down one as it tore a strip of flesh off the wounded man’s leg. Carson let out a scream as he took the head of the last nasty and smashed it into the wall behind him. Frank ran over and two more flashlights went on.

The first aid kit was taken out, but Carson put a hand up. “Frank, we both know I’m dead. Don’t let me become one of them.”

Frank didn’t know what to do. “Doc, do we have proof a bite leads to infection?”

The lack of response was louder than anything he’d ever heard. Everything was going to hell and Frank needed to keep it together. Carson pulled off his mask and grabbed Frank’s hand pulling him close.

“Be careful, I have no idea who’s pulling the strings, but they’re playing for keeps. The only person they want is the doctor, so watch your back. If there’s another traitor, they’ll kill you before reaching the top.”

Frank opened his mouth to say something when he heard the shot and felt warm blood coat his neck and the front of his mask went crimson. With his good hand, he wiped the clear plastic as much as he could. He stood on shaky legs wondering more than ever how he was going to get everyone out of this nightmare alive.

“Smith, see what you can get from his pack and grab his weapon, we need all the extra ammo we can get.”

Arthur glanced away from the mess of Carson’s face. Part of him understood why the man took his own life. If it were him, he would have done the same thing, or at least hoped he’d have the guts to. Frank didn’t look good. Arthur wondered how long before panic and exhaustion tore their shrinking group apart.

He felt Selena at his side. “We really need to stick together, promise me. I don’t trust any of them. The traitor could be anyone.”

Arthur nodded, not wanting to make a verbal commitment. So lost in his own thoughts, he didn’t hear the moan behind him or the shuffling of feet. The smell of rot hit him a nanosecond before two large arms grabbed the back of his neck.

A scream to his left drowned out the groaning creature attached to him. Arthur swung his flashlight to the right to see Selena in the same predicament. He wrestled with his Sig, but knew it was too risky.

“Frank, Smith, could use some help here,” Arthur rasped as the hold on his throat tightened.

In the darkness, only the twitching beams of light could be seen. Sounds seemed louder and more ominous. Arthur heard Frank say a few choice words, and then a shot ended Selena’s pleas for help. A moment later, the weight was removed from his back and he heard something crunch. He turned in time to see Frank kick his boot against a wall trying to clear it of the skull fragments and brackish brain matter.

“Thanks,” Arthur managed to say.

“Don’t thank me yet, I need to check you over for bites.”

Arthur stood still as Frank inspected him and Selena for potential infection. After a few tense seconds, he declared them clear and moved toward the door.

Arthur followed him. “I thought you cleared this floor? And those didn’t have any burn marks on them. They weren’t up here when we blew open the door.”

Frank grabbed him by the elbow and led him to a corner without any regard to the integrity of the floor. “I did clear it with Smith and Lightfoot, so obviously one of them didn’t do what they were supposed to. As for the lack of burn marks, I have no idea. They might have wandered down here from somewhere else. I have no idea what to think or who to believe. All I know is you’re the prize, Doc, so stick close.”