“Get a little closer,” Cipher said to my brother, “but not too close.”
We approached the gate slowly, passing through it to take in the scene before us. The base, usually so orderly and bustling with human activity, appeared now as a desolate wasteland. Several of the perimeter fences were torn and bent with tattered clothing stuck to the razor wire and flapping in the breeze. Escapees? Meanwhile Rabids roamed freely, feeding on dead corpses–Ihopedthey were dead. Other Rabids staggered around aimlessly, as if drunk, their military uniforms bloodied and torn. In the center of it all was the flagpole, the American flag still whipping in the wind, strangely resolute in the midst of chaos.
“How did they get in here?” Cipher wondered aloud.
“Maybe it was a soldier who turned Rabid first,” Macon suggested. “They’re all wearing uniforms.”
Cipher reached for the CB radio mounted on the dash. His hand was shaking. The adrenaline must have hit him already. “Captain Crenshaw, this is Cipher, stationed at the western entrance of StarChem. Report.”
There was static on the line followed by the crackle of feedback and a voice I recognized, but it wasn’t Captain Crenshaw.
“Cipher, this is Dr. Godara. We’re currently on lockdown in the lab.”
Thank God the lab was safe. Hopefully the medical workers were as well. I scanned the packs of Rabids again and didn’t see any of them wearing scrubs or lab coats.
“What the hell happened?” Cipher asked.
“We don’t know exactly, but we believe it began in the barracks during the night. We heard gunshots, what sounded like bombs exploding. The power went out for a little while. By the time we got our backup generator running and our video surveillance online, it was pandemonium on the base. They’d gone into a feeding frenzy.”
“How many are Rabid?” Cipher asked.
“Hard to say, but according to our surveillance, all of the military personnel not stationed inside the lab at the time of the attack are either infected, dead, or missing in action.”
It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me. I gasped at the enormity of it all.
“What about reinforcements?” Cipher asked, keeping a cool head despite the chaos and destruction surrounding us.
“There’s no way to communicate with them at present, not from inside the lab, and our supply convoy isn’t set to arrive for another six weeks.”
Just then a Rabid threw itself at the Humvee’s windshield, rolling its head maniacally and gnashing its teeth. I recognized him. Private First Class James Bennett from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. A week ago he’d been complaining about the food not having enough kick and offering me some of his personal stash, a small bottle of hot sauce and some Old Bay seasoning.
“How long can you survive in the bunker?” Cipher asked while keeping an eye on the Rabid.
“Until the backup generators run out of gas. Then all of our systems start shutting down, and we won’t be able to keep them out. Or our high-risk patients in.”
They were surrounded by Rabids, inside and out. The only thing preventing them from an attack were the locks on the door.
“How long is that?” Cipher asked.
“Thirty-six hours, give or take.”
“Fuck,” Cipher muttered to the three of us. He surveyed the landscape. Despite Cipher’s feelings toward the military, he wouldn’t abandon them, not when there were people who needed saving.
“Doc, standby, we’re going to need to recruit reinforcements. We’ll try and contain the Rabid situation above ground and let you know when it’s safe to come out,” Cipher said.
“Thank you, Cipher. I wish you the best of luck. I’ll be monitoring the radio. Don’t hesitate to call me for anything you need.”
“Will do.” Cipher returned the radio to its mount and turned to the three of us. “Are you all in for this mission?”
“Yes, boss,” I said soberly. Macon nodded and so did my brother.
“Let’s head back to Assburbia, get our weapons and the rest of the crew, then come back here and clean house.”
Santi shifted into reverse in a smooth three-point turn, sending the Rabid still clawing at the windshield sliding sideways off the hood.
“Don’t run him over,” I said to my brother. “That’s James. He’s a nice guy.”
Santi navigated away from the Rabid, who leapt up and ran behind us, trying to launch himself at the back of the Humvee. Thankfully, the armored vehicle protected us and eventually he gave up pursuit and started shuffling back toward the base. Rabids had an affinity for the places where they’d been turned. If we were successful in securing the base, Dr. Godara might be able to save James too. Unless…
