Slow Burn: A Zombie Novel

• Part 1 Mike Fosen & Hollis Weller
  
• Prologue
  
• Epilogue
  

A PERMUTED PRESS book

published by arrangement with the author

ISBN (trade paperback): 978-1-61868-110-2

ISBN (eBook): 978-1-61868-111-9

Slow Burn
copyright © 2013

by Mike Fosen and Hollis Weller

All Rights Reserved.

Cover art by Roy Migabon

Published at Smashwords

This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.

Aleksey Volkov swore as his small Oka automobile hit another pothole, spilling coffee all over his lap. The heavy rain made it difficult to navigate the crumbling streets at that time of night.

The roads have gotten worse
, he thought in dismay as he swerved around yet another large crater in the road.
My country is falling apart before my very eyes.

Hell, his car was an example of that as well. In America, the scientists were rich and owned Cadillacs while he drove this piece of shit. If the Soviets could not afford to fix their roads and pay their brightest people as the Americans did, how could they possibly compete?

Aleksey was driving too fast, and he knew it. He had been passing vehicle after vehicle in the unsafe conditions and nearly clipped a pedestrian a few miles back. However, when you are awoken by your boss at three in the morning and are greeted by a terrified voice telling you there has been an incident and you need to report in immediately, you move quickly. Especially when you work for the Vector Institute, and you have been assisting your boss on a top secret biological weapons program for the military.

“
This isn’t good!” Aleksey had told his wife after hanging up the phone to get dressed. “I’ve never heard him like this, it’s gotta be bad.”

As he passed the edge of town and the large concrete building he worked in came into view, Aleksey again grimaced in disgust. My people rarely build anything beautiful,” he said aloud. “The buildings are always massive and dreary looking.”

The Vector Institute, where he worked as a research scientist, was the Soviet equivalent of both the U.S. Center for Disease Control and Army Biological Weapons Center.
It had state of the art research facilities and capabilities for all levels of biological hazard and CDC Levels 1-4. It was also one of two official repositories for the now-eradicated smallpox virus.

Aleksey and his boss, Dr. Ulyanov, had been working on the Marburg Virus, named after a town in Germany which suffered an outbreak in 1967. With effects similar to the Ebola Virus, it was a terrifying sickness that quickly consumed the body. The symptoms included jaundice, rapid weight loss, delirium, and multiple organ failure. External hemorrhaging from body orifices, including the sweat glands, was also common and terrifying to watch. The disease was contagious and transmitted by saliva and other bodily fluids.

During the brief conversation, Dr. Ulyanov mumbled something about injecting pigs and an “accident”, which made Aleksey fear the worst.

He must have accidently infected himself
, Aleksey first thought,
and if that’s true, this project is finished. To be so careless with such a dangerous virus strain is inexcusable. The KGB investigation will end me as well.

As he pulled into the parking lot it appeared that his assumptions might be correct. Several large armored personnel carriers were parked in front of the main entrance. As Aleksey parked and hastily exited his vehicle, he grimaced from the rain and cold; he hadn’t dressed properly for the weather in his rush out the door. He cursed the Motherland. “The end of May and it’s still fucking freezing!”

Several soldiers, complete with gas masks, bio gear, and assault rifles at the ready, were standing guard at the doorway and gripped their weapons tightly as Aleksey approached. Aleksey was certain the gas masks were overkill; the facility had state of the art safeguards against exposure to the outside.

”
We have so much lethal shit stored here,” he reminded himself under his breath, “that if any of it ever got out, it would kill us all.”

“
This area is off limits!” the larger soldier in the group commanded, interrupting Aleksey’s train of thought. “Nobody gets in without permission!”

Aleksey disdained the dumb conscripts that made up the bulk of the military, and he merely flashed his credentials as he tried to push past the guards into the building and out of the rain.

The next thing Aleksey felt was the wooden stock of the largest guard’s rifle across his jaw followed by a hard landing on the concrete sidewalk. He could taste the blood coming from his mouth as it mixed with the cool water on the sidewalk, and Aleksey had to turn his head to the side to avoid drowning in a small puddle of water that had pooled on the sidewalk. He now felt the large soldier’s heavy boot on his back, making it even harder to breathe. His night had just gone from bad to worse.

“
Look at that little worm,” another guard laughed while kicking Aleksey violently in his ribcage. “Just who does he think he is?”

“
I’m Aleksey Volkov,” he gasped, winching in pain. “Get me to your superior officer; this is a matter of national security.”

“
They better know who you are up there, little man,” the guard threatened, his voice muffled by the gas mask, “or I’ll shoot you myself.”

Aleksey had a few threats of his own he wanted to shoot back, but kept his mouth shut and tried to catch his breath instead.

Fifteen minutes later Aleksey sat at a table in his office holding a towel to his busted lip. A couple of his teeth felt loose.

I hope they don’t need to be pulled
,’ he thought in dismay. The dentist in this town was worse at his job than the men who fixed the roads.

In the chair where his boss would normally sit was a large Colonel who looked like he had been up all night as well, and was not very happy about it.

“
Well, it looks like your work has paid off,” the Colonel said wearily.

“
But not for Dr. Ulyanov,” Aleksey replied smartly.

“
He got careless,” the Colonel said. “He infected himself while injecting some pigs for a test, but the results are most impressive. I will spare you the details, but he is already dead. You are now the senior man on this project, comrade, and we want to see this through. You will examine Dr. Ulyanov’s body, isolate this new strain, and continue with his work.”

This caught Aleksey off guard. Perhaps they were so impressed with the results that they had overlooked Aleksey’s misappropriation of funds to supplement his meager existence. The Colonel then pulled a journal from a drawer and dropped it on the desk. It was sealed in heavy plastic, and as Aleksey picked it up, he could see it had belonged to his former boss and was covered in star-shaped blood droplets.

“
Be careful with that,” the Colonel said. “He was sweating blood when we arrived and left quite a mess. The lower level is still under quarantine but should be cleared by morning. I’m sure there will be something of use in that journal, however.”

Aleksey couldn’t believe his luck. They needed him,
wanted
him, and that for once made him an important man.

“
I’ll need a new assistant, and a raise.”

The Colonel scowled in response. “Not going to happen. There are cutbacks everywhere right now. There’s only so much to go around and you’re lucky to still be in business after this mess. But you will finish this; it’s a matter of national security.”

“And if I refuse?” Aleksey asked, already knowing the most likely answer.

“
I hand you back over to my men outside, and the world never finds out about any of this,” the Colonel answered coldly.

Aleksey believed him.