Shaun Harbinger - Survival - Revenge of the Living Dead

“Mr Hines,” Hart said, “We really need to discuss the matter at hand.”

“Very well,” Hines said once he’d got the coffee machine going. “What exactly is the matter at hand, Mr Hart? I was told by Marilyn MacDonald that you were bringing a dead body here and that Dr Ives was to be informed of its arrival as soon as it got here. Is that what’s happening here or not?”

Hart shook his head. “No, it’s not. There seems to be a mix up in communication somewhere.”

“Well, I will admit that when I spoke to Miss MacDonald, the line was terrible. The network isn’t what it used to be, you know. But I got the gist of what she was saying.”

“No,” Hart said, “I don’t think you did.”

Hines frowned. “Are you telling me that the body in that crate is not one of Sarah’s dead relatives?”

Now it was Hart’s turn to frown in confusion. “What?”

“A dead relative. We have them delivered here from time to time if they were in military service so they can be buried in cemetery. It gives our community members some small comfort to be able to visit the graves of loved ones. As long as the body isn’t infected, we’re glad to add it to our cemetery.”

“You have a cemetery underground?” I asked.

Hines nodded. “Yes, it’s quite lovely. Angelic music playing at all hours and dimmed lighting. Perhaps you’d like to see it before you go.”

Before I could answer, Hart cut in. “Mr Hines, the body in that crate is the body of Patient Zero.”

Hines, who had filled a mug with coffee and was bringing it to Dr Ives, visibly paled and dropped the mug. It shattered on the floor. “No, no, no. We don’t talk about such things in this bunker, do you understand? It isn’t good for the mental wellbeing of our people. We don’t discuss the outside world’s...problems.”

Hart stood up. I could see that frustration was getting the better of him now. “Well like it or not, the outside world’s problems are now inside your bunker. We were told to bring Patient Zero here and deliver it to Dr Sarah Ives.” He pointed at Ives. “That is you, correct?”

She nodded meekly. “Yes, but why would you bring such a thing to me? There’s some mistake.”

“Aren’t you a scientist?”

She shook her head. “No. Well, yes, in a manner of speaking. I teach chemistry to the children here. I’m a teacher.”

“One of our best,” Hines added. “The kids love her.”

A deathly silence descended over the table as we all tried to make sense of the situation in our minds.

“Wait a minute,” I said, suddenly realising something. “You said dead relatives are brought here if they were in military service.”

Hines nodded. “That’s right.”

I turned to Ives. “And you thought that was one of your relatives being delivered?”

She nodded again. “Yes, that’s what I thought.”

“Who did you think it was? Which of your relatives is in the military?”

“My father.”

“What’s his name?”

“Locke,” she said. “Sergeant Terry Locke.”

“We’ve been sent on a wild goose chase,” I told the others. “Locke didn’t send us here because Dr Ives is the best person to deal with Patient Zero’s body; he sent us here because he wanted to give her exclusive access to it. Probably thought she could improve her career prospects or become a hero or something. I don’t know.”

“My dad sent you here?” Ives asked.

“Yes,” Hart said. “He made us think you would know the best thing to do with the body. Made us believe you were a scientist.”

“He was always pushing me to do better,” she said quietly. “When I became a teacher, he was disappointed in me. He said I could be a world famous scientist and that I was wasted in teaching. But I like working with children. I didn’t want fame. And when I got married and we had our son, there was no doubt left in my mind that education was my calling. Dad was always trying to push me to do better but he never asked if that was what I wanted.”

“The bloody fool!” Hart said. “He arranged to have vitally important material and documents sent to his schoolteacher daughter because he wanted her to do better? Fucking ridiculous.”

“He obviously didn’t know the body was slowly coming back to life,” I said. “He didn’t know the danger he was putting everyone in.”

“It doesn’t matter if he knew it or not,” Hart said. “He’s put countless lives in danger with his stupid bloody actions.”

“Danger?” Hines asked, still pale. “Coming back to life? What’s happening?”

Hart looked at him with steely eyes. “Just tell me your men have put that body somewhere secure.”

“They’re taking it to the disused offices on Level 2. Those doors have locks.”

“What kind of locks?”

Hines shrugged. “The kind you find on an office door.”

“What kind of doors?’

Hines pointed at the door of the room we were in. “The same as that one. Wooden office doors.”

“Tell me about your security team.”

“What about them?”

“Are they armed?”

“They have pepper spray and truncheons but I assure you they hardly ever use them. The crime rate here is—“

“We need our weapons,” Hart told him.

“That’s not possible. Weapons aren’t allowed in the bunker. I told you, we’re a peaceful community.”

“You’ll be a dead community if we don’t get our weapons.”

“They’re in the bin by the outer door, waiting for you to collect them when you leave.”

Hart left the room and we followed him to the waiting room. The door that led to the cement corridor was locked.

“Open this door,” Hart told Hines.

Hines went to the console on the wall. “Sam, open the reception room door, please. Our guests are leaving.”

“We’re not leaving,” Hart said. “We’re getting our weapons and coming back inside.”

“Not possible,” Hines said as the door clicked open. “I cannot allow you to bring weapons in here. If I let you do it, then someone else will want to do it as well. Where will it end?’

“Listen closely to me,” Hart said. “There’s a fucking monster in your bunker. Pepper spray and truncheons aren’t going to touch it.”

We walked out through the door and Hines said to the man in the booth, “They’re leaving, Sam.”

“Very good, sir,” Sam said. He pressed some buttons on his console and the next door opened, along with the door that led outside to the quarry. Obviously Bunker 53’s exit protocol was nowhere near as strenuous as its entrance procedure.

“Don’t close those doors, Sam,” Hart told the man in the booth. “We’re coming back inside in a minute.

We proceeded through the middle door, the one with the white line painted on the floor behind it and then the green line just beyond that, where our weapons were stored in the plastic bin.

Hart turned around to address Hines, who was still watching us from the waiting room.

“Don’t close the doors,” Hart pleaded with him. “Please.”

“Good day, gentlemen,” Hines said. The door behind us began to close. As it did, I saw the lights in the waiting room where Hines was standing suddenly turn red. He looked up at them, a confused look on his face. An alarm sounded, a low buzzing that repeated every two seconds.

Then an automated female voice said, “Automatic safety lockdown will begin in ten seconds. Ten. Nine. Eight.”

“Run!” Hart shouted. “We have to get out of here!”

From behind us, I could hear screams coming from within the bunker.

“Seven. Six.”

We sprinted for the outer door. There was no time to collect our weapons from the plastic bin so Tanya grabbed the bin itself and dragged it along behind her.