Villains of the Apocalypse (3 page)

Yes, it would be over soon, Hunter thought. There was no anti-virus. John was right. It had stopped working. Over the past few months it had slowly become less and less effective. And right now? Right now it was as good as useless. Hunter had told an outright lie about manufacturing a new batch. There was none. Nothing was working. The virus was one hundred percent deadly. Once infected, you die. It was only a matter of time.

The good thing was the alarm had not been raised. And John had not told anyone else about this incident.

As far as far as everyone outside of this room knew, it was business as usual. Hunter was determined to keep it that way.

The last thing he needed was for his superiors to get wind of this. He did not want any more setbacks.

They were close to perfecting this virus.

Doctor Hunter made sure John was handcuffed to the bed. He would let the virus kill him. And then he would study the effects of the virus on his body and his vital organs.

CHAPTER 6

Doctor Hunter was about to board a chopper so he could search the surrounding area. The pilot gave him the thumbs up, indicating they were ready to go.

Hunter’s phone rang. It was Kumar Singh.

“I checked the CCTV footage at the outpost,” Kumar said.

“You have access to security footage?”

“Of course.”

“So you know the current situation?”

“Yes. I know. I see you are going above and beyond the call of duty on this incident. You should really call this one in. Let the professionals track him down.”

“No. I will clean this up. There will be no more setbacks.”

“Fine.If you insist. You should know that the target is close. He stole one of the Humvees. I have tracked him using the GPS locator in the vehicle.”

“He’s still alive?”

“Yes. He is still alive.”

“How do you know?”

“I am monitoring the situation via satellite surveillance.”

Hunter knew Kumar had an extremely high IQ. But he never knew he was this smart. He never knew he had this kind of technical ability.

There were a boat load of rumors about Kumar. The rumors began mainly because he had worked with the Indian military as a field surgeon for so many years. Working in the hot zones. Because of his time there, some say that he had once worked for the Mumbai mafia. Others insisted that he was Indian royalty. The most outrageous rumor was that he was a field surgeon to the Mujahedeen fighters of Afghanistan and that he had once removed shrapnel from Osama Bin Laden himself.

Regardless of these whispered rumors, the company had decided to hire his services. They were convinced his brilliance was worth the price and would overshadow any unsubstantiated stories.

And they were right.

Hunter didn’t want to admit it, and he never would to anyone else, but Kumar Singh was a thousand times more intelligent and a million times more capable than both he and Doctor West put together.

Plus he had a tough side that can only be earned by serving in the line of fire, on the battlefield. And the unpredictable and dangerous third world. At that moment Hunter was extremely glad that Kumar was working with him.

“I should warn you,” Kumar continued. “This individual, Bashir Abbas, he is a former member of the Taliban. He has spent most of his life fighting a war. He is a very tough human being. Proceed with caution.”

“He will be dead by the time I find him,” Hunter said.

“I would not be so sure about that. The virus is changing. Just as we predicted. It is taking longer and longer to kill. This is good. This is what we want. A chance to spread. Infect. We are close, Michael.”

Kumar sent Hunter the coordinates.

Apparently Bashir had stopped in the middle of nowhere. He was still inside the Humvee.

Hunter suspected he was dead or close to it. He told the helicopter pilot that he would not require his services. Bashir was only a short drive away.

CHAPTER 7

Bashir woke from a strange dream. He was feeling worse. He was burning up. His muscles and his joints and his bones ached.

But he wasn’t dead yet.

Initially his plan was to hide in amongst the dead test subjects at the research facility. He could’ve stayed hidden under one of the bodies, waited for Doctor Hunter to get close. He could’ve surprised him and taken him down.

But for some reason Bashir had given up on that idea. It was weird, but he felt too hot to stay indoors. He felt claustrophobic, like he was suffocating. He needed to get out and away.

He stole a military Humvee that was parked at the facility. And then he just drove. He had no idea where he was driving to. Then he saw the river bed. And the very idea of walking through a river bed, even a dry one, was soothing and calming.

He checked the shotgun to make sure it was loaded. He grabbed the machete and was about to leave the car and start walking.

Up ahead he could see the dry river bed. He knew he would be able to follow it and stay hidden. He might even find water.

He began walking but then he stopped. He saw a dust trail off in the distance.

It was a car. It was coming closer.

The car was a Range Rover. A civilian model. Not a military Humvee.

Maybe he would be able to ask this person for help or water. Maybe they even had pain killers.

The Range Rover drove up.

Bashir waved his arms.

Doctor Hunter could not believe his eyes. Bashir was still alive.

According to his soon to be dead or probably even already dead research assistant, Bashir had been exposed to the virus well over ten hours ago.

Maybe Kumar was right. Maybe the virus really was beginning to slow down.

Doctor Hunter drove up next to the stolen Humvee. He wondered why Bashir was waving his arms, wondered why he had parked, why he wasn’t running away.

Something didn’t feel right. Hunter remembered Kumar’s warning about this guy being a battle hardened soldier. He reached into the glove box and retrieved his handgun, a military standard issue Beretta. He remembered when they were first advised by the military to carry a gun. He was completely against it. But now he was extremely grateful for the advice. He also, put on a pair of latex gloves, just in case.

He stashed the gun down the waist of his pants and exited the Range Rover. His number one goal was to get Bashir back to the research facility. Alive and in one piece. Or as close to alive as possible.

He waved a friendly wave and smiled a friendly smile to Bashir. “Good afternoon, sir. Are you all right? Need some fuel?”

Bashir was slumped forward, sweat poured off his face. His eyes were bloodshot. “Do you have any water?”

“I believe I do. You don’t look so good, if you don’t mind me saying. Do you need a ride into town? Maybe to a hospital?”

“No. I just need water.”

Hunter retrieved a small canteen of fresh water from the car and offered it to Bashir. He drank it quickly, spilling most of it down his chin. He then poured the rest over his head.

“Are you sure you’re all right? What are you even doing out here?”

Bashir looked around. He seemed to be confused. “I came out here to get away.”

“Get away? From who? From what?”

“From it all. Just get away from it all. And relax.”

“I see. You know, it’s dangerous to come out here by yourself.”

“Yes. Why are you alone?”

“I’m a local. Where did you say you were from? I’m guessing your accent is Middle Eastern?”

“I came here years ago.”

Hunter saw the shotgun sitting on the driver’s seat of the Humvee. “And why do you have a shotgun?”

“For shooting kangaroos. I’ve always wanted to try the meat.”

Bashir began to sway. His eyes were barely open.

Hunter realized he was not a threat at that point in time. His fever was too high. Hunter stepped forward and pushed Bashir over. He was right. Bashir was too weak to fight back.

The fugitive was sprawled on the ground, moaning in pain and mumbling something incoherent. Maybe he was speaking in his native language, Hunter thought.

“You are coming with me, Bashir.”

“Who... who are you?” he whispered. “How do you know my name?”

“I am Doctor Michael Hunter. And you are going to be part of history.”

Bashir knew he was hallucinating. He knew he was delirious from the fever but there was nothing he could do. He saw multiple, moving rainbows in the desert ground, moving like snakes. He saw bright colors on the horizon. At one point he saw the doctor as a robot.

And now Bashir could no longer stand up. He couldn’t even talk. He couldn’t even keep his eyes open.

Maybe this was for the best, he thought. He was obviously dying. Whatever he had been infected with was killing him.

He felt like his bones were on fire, like his eyeballs were boiling.

He lay on the ground, staring up at the sky. The sky was lava.

Doctor Hunter had walked over to the rear of his Range Rover. He had changed into a HAZMAT suit. He then began dragging Bashir by the ankles. Gravel rubbed against his skin.

But then something clicked inside Bashir’s mind. He wasn’t exactly sure what.

Rage?A survival instinct? Fight or flight?

He had no idea what came over him. He didn’t want to fight because he was too weak. But he couldn’t help it.

It was almost like a weird primal urge to fight and live and survive took over his whole body. Bashir kicked out and knocked Doctor Hunter onto his back. He jumped up, suddenly full of energy and strength. He grabbed the shotgun off the front seat.

But before he could turn and shoot, he felt something in the back of his leg. Pressure. His leg buckled momentarily. When he looked down he saw that he had been shot.

But there was no pain.

He felt nothing.

Bashir turned and unloaded with the shotgun.

Doctor Hunter dived behind the Range Rover and returned fire in a panic.

The doctor was not used to combat of any sort. Bashir on the other hand felt right at home. His muscle memory was kicking in.

He took cover behind the Humvee. He waited. Aimed. Fired.

The shotgun shells sprayed into the side of the Range Rover but Doctor Hunter kept moving.

Smart man.

Suddenly Bashir lost his grip on the shotgun. His fingers ceased up in pain. He dropped to his knees and grabbed it by the barrel.

Doctor Hunter had used this time to grab the machete out of the Humvee. He brought it down on Bashir’s forearm. The blade sliced through easily. Dark blood oozed out onto to desert ground.

No pain.

Using the shotgun as a baseball bat, Bashir clobbered the doctor, knocking him unconscious.

He could’ve killed him with the machete. He could’ve cut him into tiny pieces. But again, weakness and fever took over. He couldn’t think straight.

Delirium. He was hallucinating.

He saw wolves. And wild dogs. Everywhere.

They would eat the doctor, he thought. Being eaten alive is a worse fate.

Bashir turned and limped off into the desert.

Doctor Hunter woke up in a panic.

His phone was ringing. He was still in the desert. He was on his back next to the Humvee and the Range Rover.

Bashir was gone.

Hunter answered his phone.

"What are you doing?” Kumar asked.

“Huh? What?”

“Do I need to send someone after you?”

“How do you.. How?”

“I told you. Satellite surveillance. I am tracking you because at the moment I do not trust you.”

Hunter sat up. He rubbed his head. “We have a problem. We have a containment failure. Bashir is gone. He has been infected.”

“There is no problem. Let him go. You had severed his arm. He will bleed to death before he reaches another living soul. The desert will take care of the rest. He is in the middle of nowhere. His body will never be found. This changes nothing.”

Hunter stood and moved over to the Range Rover. He sat in the driver’s seat and slumped against the steering wheel. “So what now?”

“We continue with our research. We are getting close. And you should tell Doctor West about this. We do not want to start lying to each other. We do not want to keep secrets from each other. Trust me; you do not want to start down that path. Not now. Not when we are so close.”

Kumar hung up.

Hunter was alone in the desert.

Saving lives, he thought. That was the goal.

Create a weapon that will save the innocent. End wars.

It had been done before.

Hiroshima. Nagasaki.

Einstein had the foresight. He was a visionary. A true savior.

Now they would follow in his footsteps.

Kumar was right. They were so close.

This is where it begins, Doctor Hunter thought. This is how they become heroes.

###

OUT NOW

THE SECRET APOCALYPSE (BOOK 1)

EXTINCTION LEVEL (BOOK 2)

WHERE THE DEAD MEN LIE (BOOK 3)

COMING SOON

TORN APART

BOOK 4 IN THE SECRET APOCALYPSE SERIES

ALSO OUT NOW

THE LOST JOURNAL

THE LOST JOURNAL PART 2

Also Coming Soon

Test Subject Zero

The following is an excerpt from THE SECRET APOCALYPSE

The Beginning of The End

I'm sitting in the penthouse suite of a hotel in Los Angeles with a TV camera pointed at my face. Sitting next to me is a journalist from a well known news program, although I can't remember which news program they said. Was it Fox News or something on CNN? Maybe it was 60 minutes? For the life of me I can't remember. After everything I’ve been through, little details like which global TV network I’m appearing on are starting to slip my mind.