The Infected: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (21 page)

"How about you holster your weapon and enjoy the ride?" Sawyer said evenly. "You'll be debriefed when we get back to camp. Don't worry your pretty little head about all the details."

Blood-red rage flashed in Sam's eyes and she lifted the knife to Sawyer's throat. "You'll tell me now."

The half-smile Sawyer wore beneath the bushy beard faded but he kept his eyes on the dirt road ahead of them. Suddenly the jeep slowed and a moment later they pulled off the road. The convoy behind them pulled over as well.

"What's going on?" Cole asked from the back.

"Albright seems to have a wild hair up her ass," Sawyer said. The handle of the knife vibrated in her hand with each word he spoke and a bright red trickle of blood emerged from underneath the tip of the blade. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Holster your weapon, Captain. That's a goddamn order."

"Captain?" Sam asked, taken aback.

"Yes," Sawyer said. "Captain Samantha Michelle Albright. Daughter of Randall and Connie Albright. Sister of Rebecca Albright. Your father was a plumber and died when you were three years old. Your mother was technical engineer for a large healthcare corporation and died during the quarantines. Two hours ago, a blip appeared on our radar. There's a GPS tracking chip inserted in your left frontal cortex. There's one in all of us. That's how we knew you were out there. That's why we're here."

Sam's head spun. "Rebecca?"

"Rebecca wasn't infected," Sawyer said and gently pushed the knife from his throat. "But her situation is a little more complicated."

The image of the little girl from laundry flashed through her mind. Her fingertips gripped against the doorframe as the Ministry's soldiers carried her to her death. The panic in her eyes. "How old?"

"That's complicated too," Sawyer said. "But if I had to guess, I'd say about nine."

"No," Sam said. Tears rushed to her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. "No. Her name was Rebecca Young." Sam remembered how the two of them looked like sisters. How Sam always felt so close to the girl. She dropped the knife to the floor and buried her head in her hands. "No, no, no, no." Her chest heaved and breath quickened. The memory of Rebecca in the old apartment. The memory of her being dragged to her death. Sisters. "No!" she screamed.

4

The jeep sped north up the coastline until the lake disappeared. A steel gate, pieced together from sheets of aluminum, appeared on the horizon and the jeep slowed to a crawl. A makeshift wall of old cars, worn-out appliances, and other junk had been stacked and stretched in either direction. Sawyer honked the horn twice, and the gates rattled open.

"How did you know all that?" Sam asked. It was the first time she had spoken since Sawyer's revelation about Rebecca. Her body was numb. Empty. "I can't remember anything before…"

"Before the fires?" Sawyer asked.

Sam nodded.

"That's how it works for everyone. Trust me, Albright, I can't promise to make things less strange moving forward, but they will become a lot clearer. By the time it's all said and done, it'll be crystal. Just hang in there a bit longer."

"Okay," Sam whispered.

Once the gates opened all the way, Sawyer nosed the jeep inside and parked just within the barrier. Sam marveled at the city inside as she stepped out of the truck. Military-grade tents stretched out on either side of a dirt path; dozens on either side. Men and women, all clad in military fatigues, bustled through the encampment.

"It's unbelievable," Cole said as he climbed out of the back of the jeep.

The other truck pulled into a spot beside them and the gates clattered shut. The half-dozen soldiers climbed from the truck and stared at Sam. Cole helped Alex from the jeep and she set Artie, who had ridden silently in her lap, onto the ground. The dog sat down beside its new owner and scratched at his ear with his hind leg.

Sawyer exited the vehicle last, and started barking orders. "Herd. Sanchez. Front and center." Two men broke away from their squadron. "I need you two to track down the Dr. Alvarez and Dr. Etter and help them prep the medical tents. Let them know that we've got three in need of an oil change and two that'll need a tune up. Full diagnostics for all three."

"Sir, yes sir," the two said in unison and took off toward the epicenter of the camp. Sam watched as they disappeared between the rows of tents.

"What's an oil change?" Alexandria asked.

"I reckon you three are pretty dehydrated from being out in the Mojave," Sawyer said. "Couple bags of saline should get any toxins flushed out of your system and have you headed back in the right direction."

"And a tune up?" Sam asked.

"We need to awaken your brains," Sawyer said and stroked his beard. "Let you in on what's been going on out here for the last 300 years."

"Sounds good," Sam said.

"Baker," Sawyer continued, "you and Price go tell the chef to get us three extra plates and don't be stingy with the fixin's."

Alex cleared her throat.

"Oh," Sawyer said and smiled down at Artie, "and tell him to make a bowl of chow for the pooch."

Two more men sounded off in unison and then took off into camp.

"That sounds even better," Cole said and smiled.

Sawyer chuckled. "Well, you look like you missed a few meals, Sarge." He clapped Cole on his shoulder and smiled. Cole looked back in stunned amazement. "Hell, last time I saw you, you were about—" Sawyer's words cut out and the grin faded from his lips.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked.

"You three came from the west, didn't you?" Sawyer asked, not taking his eyes off the back of Cole's neck.

"Yes," Sam answered.

Sawyer turned to Alexandria and looked her up and down and then spun back to Cole. His face grayed despite the mid-morning sun beating down on them. "Lost Angel?"

"How'd you know?"

"The girl's as pale as a ghost and Sgt. Porter has a fucking metal box protruding from the back of his skull," Sawyer said. There was a long moment of silence before Sawyer spoke again. "I'm goddamn sorry, Sarge." He sighed and tears welled in his eyes. Acid filled Sam's stomach. "Hell, sorry don't even describe it."

"Got anybody around here who can remove it?" Cole asked.

Sawyer shook his head and a dreadful silence overtook the group. Sam reached over and squeezed Cole's arms but he said nothing. Tears beaded in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. Alex sobbed and scooped Artie off the ground. She buried her head against his fur.

"How do you know about Lost Angel?" Sam asked after a long moment.

"You're not the first to make it out of that hellhole," Sawyer said. "Come on. Let's get something to eat."

They followed Sawyer to a grouping of picnic tables set up in the middle of the camp. A dozen men and women sat at neighboring benches. They all stood and saluted when Sam walked past them.

"At ease," Sawyer said. The men and women lowered their hands but remained standing. "Eat your damned food for Christ's sake." The group dropped back to the bench but their eyes remained locked on Sam.

"What was that all about?" Sam asked as they passed.

"You'll find out soon enough, Captain."

Sawyer took a seat at the far picnic table where four plates of food waited. Bacon, eggs and an assortment of fruit covered the plate and Sam's stomach rumbled as she caught a whiff of it. A bowl full of eggs and gravy sat on the ground and when Alex put Artie back on the ground, the dog trotted to over to the bowl and chowed down. Sawyer motioned for them to sit down and shoved a strip of bacon into his mouth.

Sam and Cole sat on the opposite side of the bench and Alex joined Sawyer on the other side. Sam stared at the food in disbelief. Her mouth salivated as the growl in her stomach erupted into pangs of hunger.

"Please," Sawyer said and beckoned at them with his bacon. "Eat. I can hear your stomach's from here."

Alex grinned and then dug into her food. Cole and Sam did the same. Sam ate so fast she barely tasted it. She knew it was a mistake, knew that her stomach would reject such a feast if she didn't pace herself, but couldn't help it.

"I guess I should fill you in," Sawyer said and pitched Artie a strip of bacon. The terrier caught it in the air and devoured it in two bites. "You got any burning questions before I start?"

"How do you have all this food?" Alex asked without hesitation.

Sawyer grinned at her. "We run a farm on the back half of the property. Got pigs, chickens and goats. Had a few cows a while back, but a couple stubborn heifers and a bull more interested in rubbing his dick in the dirt and that was that. No more cows. We've got a few crops as well. Corn and potatoes. Okra. Some herbs. We've got a decent irrigation setup and a few guys that were farmers in the old world."

"And you just give these supplies out to strangers," Sam asked.

"You're not strangers, but I get what you're saying. We haven't seen too much in the way of foot traffic around these parts. There are close to 70 soldiers here and there's still too much for us to eat. We store what we can but we only have one working solar generators to power the camp. So in the rare instance that a
stranger
makes it to our world, we like to take care of them."

"How do you know our names?" Sam asked. "And why did you call me Captain Albright?"

Sawyer stopped chewing and looked at her a long time.

"What?" Sam asked.

"What all
do
you know?" Sawyer said and raised an eyebrow.

"Not much," Sam admitted as she shoved a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

Sawyer looked from Sam to Cole. "And you?"

Cole shrugged. "Bits and pieces. There was a man named Holden Dec—"

"Holden Deckard," Sawyer finished. "He was supposed to fill you in about everythi—"

"He's dead," Sam interrupted.

Sawyer sighed. "Damn. Holden was a good man. That's a shame."

A long moment of silence passed as Sawyer stared at his plate.

"I think you should finish what he started," Sam said. "We know about Concordia, and that they've done something to our brains. Altered our memories. And we know about the elite setting off the virus and using us as some messed-up science experiment."

Sawyer nodded. "Well, that's a pretty good overview of it, but it sounds like you're still missing a few key pieces to this puzzle. Where do I start? There's so much to tell you."

"What really happened after the virus was released?"

"Okay," Sawyer said. "The Flowers Corporation released the virus—"

"What?" Sam grabbed ahold of the table as Jordan's words echoed through her mind.
I remember the flowers. They're not what you think. They're bad. Remember them. Remember the Flowers.

"The Flowers Corporation was a cutting-edge bio-lab before the infection. They're the company that the upper echelon tasked with creating the virus. It's their memory suppression chips whirring in your brains. Their cryotanks. Their experiments.

"The rich folks, the Vondenberg Group, wanted a world all to themselves so they hired the Flowers Corporation to make that happen." Sawyer paused and tossed another strip of bacon to the dog. Artie woofed it down and then barked happily. "And after the virus wiped everything out, they were tasked with managing the city from a scientific standpoint. Their goal was to create a world where we wouldn't relive the mistakes of the past. They are the nerve center of Concordia."

"They're the ones to blame for all this," Sam said.

"Well, I'd put a fair share of blame on the Vondenberg Group for starting this mess to begin with, but all of this is the Flowers Corp's playground. They're the mad scientists and we're they're monsters. Well, besides for the actual monsters roaming around outside. They created the virus, they made the cryotanks, and they made the new cities. But they made a huge mistake before they stuck us in those ice buckets."

"What mistake?" Cole asked.

"They trained us to be killers."

Sam shook her head. There were too many facts to keep straight and it wading through it all. "Start from the beginning," Sam said.

"They released the virus in 2032. One day we're all walking around sniffing the roses, and the next day, almost everybody's dropped dead. And the day after that, a small portion of those dead people are waking back up as fucking zombies. Un-fucking-believable. It was like we woke up in some George Romero movie."

"Don't curse in front of the ladies," Cole said.

Sawyer looked taken aback for a moment and then chuckled. "It's the end of the world and Sgt. Porter's worried about bad language. Ain't that something. A true gentleman amongst our ranks. Alright. I'll do my best."

He laughed again and then continued, "So now we've got people rising from the grave and Concordia doing their best to firebomb every city from here to Timbuktu to control this undead outbreak. Meanwhile, they discover another unexpected result yielded from the virus."

"Us," Sam whispered.

"You're goddamn right," Sawyer said and took a drink of water. "They send in quarantine teams to all these cities and find handfuls of survivors in each one. So they gather us up and take us to Concordia to run lab work on us. Turns out the virus has the reverse effect on us. Sharpens our senses. Strengthens our muscles and our immune systems."

Memories of Sam holding the General's Desert Eagle and killing his soldiers with such ease and willingness flashed in her brain.

"At first," Sawyer continued, "they trained us. The infected threatened Concordia's security, and we were viewed as a solution. And for five years, they developed an army to fight this horde that's now taken over every city that's left standing."

"And I'm a captain in this army?" Sam asked.

"To say the least," Sawyer said and smiled. "Anyway, while they trained us, the Flowers Corp developed an anti-virus from our blood. Not a cure but the equivalent to the flu shot. Something that would help protect the Concordians from catching the disease, but something that would have to be tweaked as the virus kept evolving, and that's what prompted the freezing. All of a sudden we became too valuable to send out and battle with these deadheads. So they dumped the majority of us into ice tanks and kept a few warm bodies for the sole purpose of blood harvesting. When one person died, another was unfrozen, and so on and so forth until the Flowers Corp decided that we could serve two functions at once.

"A dozen or so locations around the U.S. were picked, and they constructed the new cities. Miniature versions of Concordia. When construction was complete, they started waking us up, inserting these fucking chips so we couldn't remember anything and then dropping us off in the cities. Data harvesting took precedent over blood. Each city contains a different set of variables. And they measure how we react to certain things. What happens if we force them to breed or refuse to let them? What happens if we take away this or give them that?"

"We're lab rats," Sam said. Sawyer had confirmed what Holden had told them. They were one big science experience. Their pain and suffering helped Concordia thrive. White hot rage coursed through Sam's blood.

"Yep," Sawyer agreed and pitched another piece of pork to Artie. The dog caught it and wagged his tail. "We're all little white mice trying to navigate some sick, twisted board game."