Zombie Outbreak Z1O5: Countdown Read online

  Z1O5:

  Zombie Outbreak

  Countdown

  Montgomery Harris

  Copyright © 2016 Montgomery Harris

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-10: 1530806232

  ISBN-13: 978-1530806232

  DEDICATION

  Dad, most kids think their Dad was the best. I know mine was.

  To Sherry, yes bubs,

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  The creation of the World of Z1O5 was not an easy process. It took a lot of work and a lot of bouncing ideas back and forth and the advice of friends. Two in particular are Rachel and Barbara who put up with my atrocious typing and offered to spell check so many times. I thank you both deeply.

  Ali, Ryan, Paul, John, Alex and Tyler, the original Tadlers and the 14th ADHD Division for constantly reminding me that no matter how scatter brained I get, it could be much worse if I was one of y

  1

  Prelude to Disaster

  No one knows if insects register pain, although it would seem likely. We defend ourselves from pain. All living things have some form of defense mechanism. Pain is something we all need, as much as we need to reproduce or consume sustenance.

  So, it would be reasonable to think that when the cockroach made its way through the artificial maze, constructed in a laboratory two miles north of the Hamptons, NY, in search of sustenance and a means of reproduction, it also felt the pain of the sting in its abdomen. The sting was that of the emerald jewel wasp.

  The pain itself would not have lasted long; the paralysis from the venom soon took over, freezing the front of the cockroach’s body. There was no pain at all as the second injection of venom, more potent this time, filled its brain. The cockroach felt nothing as one of its antennae was ripped into a makeshift leash, or as it was lead - without brain activity - into a small hole, where the jewel wasp laid her eggs in the cockroach’s body.

  No brain signals registered at all, just enough of a knot of nerves to keep it alive while the egg hatched, devouring it slowly, methodically, keeping the cockroach alive so that its meat remained fresh. Nature, and a million years of evolution had allowed the jewel wasp to remove the brain activity of an available host, leaving it neither dead, nor alive, but simply undead.

  The lab tech, watching this horror of nature on the time-lapse camera, whistled softly and let a macabre chuckle escape, muttering one word as he laughed.

  “Zombified”

  2

  Hilary

  She straightened his tie knot and smiled at the distracted expression on his face. If he noticed her fussy attention to detail on the way he was dressed, he did not show it. He simply looked down at his Galaxy 8 and mouthed the words of his speech in a series of inaudible mumbles.

  She was not used to seeing her husband looking so nervous, and normally it would have bothered her, but not today. Today was his moment. It was his victory and his triumph. For thirty years he had slaved for twenty hours a day on the very thing that brought him to this, his golden moment in the sun.

  Twenty hours a day had been the good days, the days when his brilliant and beautiful mind had been able to slow down to the pace of the science and technology required to run the tests of his pioneering experiments.

  On the bad days, days that actually led into several days without sleep, without bathing and sometimes without eating or drinking, he would be gone. The pain and frustration wore on his face but was never taken out on others. He was always patient with his staff and with his wife and friends, but never with himself.

  She loved him for his passion, for his drive and his single-minded dedication to what would be humanity's greatest achievement.

  She was unaware of how lost in her own thoughts she must have been because, when she broke from them, her husband was looking at her and smiling, his eyes a little glazed. She would have felt he was about to cry had she not known him better.

  “Thank you.” he said, kissing her on the forehead before leaning his head to the side and kissing her with a passion she had not felt in him since those early days at Yale, when as an undergrad she had met this twenty-six year old professor who for one moment saw her as something more than science.

  The wild passionate years that led to their marriage and eventually a small baby girl named Wendy in the spring of 1985. The one year they had with Wendy was the happiest of their lives. She was pure happiness created from their love and the physical representation of all that was between them.

  However, she was born with a short time to live, and mutated cells in her body had begun to grow, unnoticed, while she was still inside of her mother. The cancer took their daughter away from them four days after her first birthday.

  Such a tragedy would have destroyed most marriages, but not theirs. They cried and mourned together; they held each other and grew ever closer. He supported her through the depression she went through, and she supported him even in her grief. Soon the grieving passed and Wendy became an absence that was ever missed and ever loved, and remained a symbol of all that still existed between them. She loved him for how he never left her side in those years after Wendy passed away, how he only remained focused on her and the support she needed. So on the morning he came in to eat the breakfast she had prepared, he smiled and looked at her.

  “Joanne, I think it’s time I went back to work. I have a theory I want to look into and I want to feel busy with something again. Would you be okay with that?”

  How could she not, he had dropped everything for her, and now she knew how to smile again and loved him more than ever. She would support him in everything he needed for the rest of his days. It was a promise she made to herself, and a promise she continued to keep.

  For all he had done for her, no thanks were necessary; she simply loved the man with whom she shared her life. She said, kissing him back with the same emotion that he had shown. “This is your moment.” She smiled as she broke the kiss, feeling a longing in her that she had not felt since her twenties.

  “No,” he said back with a more serious face. “This is Wendy’s moment, Wendy’s and yours.”

  A few moments later he stood before the banks of cameras, reporters and esteemed members of the university, along with several world leaders, including the President of the United States, Britain’s Prime Minister and the heads of the G-20.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Professor Milton Hilary, head of the medical research department here at Yale. For the past thirty years, I have been working on a project that we refer to as Project Nana, so named after the dog that protected Wendy Darling and the boys in the Peter Pan stories.” He looked to his wife and smiled one more time before looking back from behind his podium to the crowded room.

  “Science is a series of controlled mistakes that eventually lead to a miracle, and when Project Nana started, my intention was to isolate a part of the DNA make-up in our bodies that leads to cancer, in particular, juvenile cancer. To create a pattern in our DNA that would isolate a mutated cell, and freeze it before it could regenerate. This concept is not new.

  Our DNA already forms resistances, we only need to look at the sickle cell gene and its resistance to malaria, or how our DNA modified itself between the Great Plague and the Black Death. We create these modifications all the time in the form of immunizations, but immunizations do not help deformities that are created during pregnancy, or even in conception.” He paused, gripped the sides of the podium with his fingers, looked down and took one final deep breath.

  “As I said earlier, a series of mistakes leading to a miracle is scientific research and experimentation. I am happy to say that fifteen years ago we isolated a strand of our DNA that can accelerate and modify th
e human immune system on a micro-molecular level. It is at that point I am happy to say the accidents began. Accidents that had to remain secret so that they could be shared at a time that due process allowed us to investigate everything to the fullest.”

  He looked at his wife, then the President and other world leaders and then to the center of the main camera. He smiled, his wife would later comment, a smile that had not crossed his face since the day he held Wendy for the first time, and that glazed expression in his eyes glowed with a pride that was indescribable.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, my discovery was only ever going to be released under one condition, and that was, and still remains, that it be free to the world. No pharmaceutical company, no government or other private company would ever be in control of its production.

  So, ten years ago human testing began, and I can now inform you that, with the new Y21 Vaccine, the common cold, pneumonia, influenza, AIDS, HIV, sexually transmitted diseases of all kinds - and most of all - cancer, will slip into human history like small pox, polio, and a myriad of other diseases that are locked away in the vaults of time.”

  The sighs of stunned belief were quickly drowned out by a rapturous applause that echoed around the auditorium for so long that it seemed like hours for Professor Hilary - yet, this normally modest man allowed himself this moment to become enveloped in his pride and achievements.

  ******

  As the film showing Professor Milton Hilary closed before the applause, the news anchor's face filled the screen. He was simply one of the hundreds of news anchors reporting the story on the evening news, from the main channels of ABC, NBC and CBS, all the way up to the cable news channels. However, John Woodwind was the most respected man on news and thus captivated the largest audience and drew the most informed guests.

  He was a handsome man in his mid-fifties, dressed in a woolen white suit, a plain white shirt and his trademark patterned ties. The patterned tie was something that had drawn people to him and it was now a small part of his nightly show on the Reality Check News Network to mention who had sent him the “Tie of the Day”. Today’s tie was a simple red and white diagonal striped tie with thinner blue borders, sent to him by Mrs. Andrea James of Wharton, NJ.

  “With me this evening is: the director of the Center for Disease Control, Dr. Graham Wilson; Senator Veronica Smith from South Carolina; and, from the on-line magazine “Truth Not Tales”, a man who everyone knows simply as 'VOICE'.”

  As the screen split into four parts viewers were able to see a larger picture of the news anchorman on the left, and a column of three other smaller faces on the right. At the top was the director of the CDC, a man with premature salt and pepper grey hair, a healthy complexion and a face that obviously sat atop a well-toned and fit body.

  Below him was the Senator from South Carolina, and finally, a scruffy, bearded man with wild hair and a peaked cap with a mask of aluminum foil hanging down from the top, which was a trademark of his that was fueled by paranoia. He said the aluminum foil was supposed to block out facial recognition software. He feared that the government would need to keep him quiet based on what he had discovered.

  “Let me start with the doctor from the CDC. Doctor, how true is this medical miracle?” he asked, leaning back in his chair to look at a monitor to the right of his desk, as the doctor's face replaced Woodwind’s in the larger picture on the left of the viewer's screens.

  “A miracle may be a little bit of a stretch at this point John, but it is not far off,” he said with a smile before taking a slightly more serious expression. “The drug is not going to lead to immortality as some think. It will prevent a lot of diseases and biological and genetic issues that plague medicine at this time. For our future generations, once we all take this drug, the benefits will be huge.

  However, it is not a cure for cancer that has gone beyond Stage 2. Those patients will need to be in remission for at least a year. Diabetics will benefit from the immunizations, and it will prevent the disease from being passed on to children as Type 1 diabetes. However, obesity-related diseases and diet-related problems will all remain an issue.

  Unfortunately, HIV and AIDS cannot be reversed, but it will stop the spread of the disease. What it does mean however, is the amount of money spent of common cold remedies, flu vaccines, and such will all be directed into medicine that can cure diseases and medical conditions such as Parkinson's, ALS and Alzheimer’s - conditions that the Y1 or 'Hilary' vaccine does not cure or prevent.”

  “Puppet!” yelled the man known as VOICE from beneath his aluminum veil. “This is just another government scheme to inject us all with tracking devices, or controlling us through the distribution of medicines!”

  The news anchor’s face filled the left screen panel again and spoke to the camera to enhance the pretense of a personal connection with his audience.

  “One of the most outspoken critics of 'Hilary', and pretty much everything else in the world, is the man known as VOICE….”

  “That’s right!” he interrupted again “Victims of an Incompetent and Corrupt Establishment! I have documented proof that this is nothing more than a government attempt to inject us all with a pacification drug! This is how they start taking away our second amendment rights, people! I want the right to protect my home! I do not need protection from a sniffle, I need protection from the people who are going to come rolling into our streets and break down our doors!” The man was yelling and breathing heavily through his beard and mask as he spoke.

  “Mr. 'VOICE', I see that you are very misinformed about this vaccine,” said the senator in a calm voice. Without skipping a beat, she confidently went on, “My concern with this 'wonder drug' is two-fold. First, God created us all through intelligent design, by changing our DNA we may actually be playing God. Science has long since gone out of its way to corrupt our minds with the misrepresentation of facts and with bogus theories like Darwinism, evolution, and such.

  The second thing is that this drug is going to be distributed for free, so is that right? Is it the responsibility of medical doctors and professors to be responsible for our healthcare as opposed to the professional judgment of our private pharmaceutical companies? And even if the drug is issued for free, who is going to pay for it: the tax-payer? Or is this simply another extension of the government showing undue concern for our ability to look after our own health? This drug will have dire consequences for the medical and pharmaceutical industries that stand to lose billions by seeing an end to the common cold.”

  The news anchorman stared at his monitor showing the senator's face, in stunned silence for a moment, knowing that her comments had just provided one of the biggest scoops of his career, but he was hesitant to pursue it. He then decided that it was too good an opportunity to miss.

  “So, Senator, you are proposing a cure for cancer being shelved or blocked by the government in order to keep pharmaceutical companies in business?” he asked, his disbelief impossible to hide.

  "No, John, I am saying cancer affects few, whereas unemployment affects us all.” She said this with a chuckle, genuinely believing that it was the newsman and not herself who had made such an unbelievable statement. Finally, the man known as VOICE interrupted.

  “That’s the government at work right there people!” He burst out laughing uncontrollably. He was not used to being looked at as the sane one in the conversation.

  ******

  'Hilary' became the talking point across the world - in bars, in living rooms and in the workplace.

  In Bluebell, Pennsylvania, Miss Ella, an African-American lady in her late sixties who should have long since retired but who chose to work out of boredom, sat in the lunch room of National Call Center East. She looked over the news on her tablet before looking up.

  “Now, Mr. Thomas will you be getting this Y1 'Hilary' vaccine?” She was addressing her boss, who was just sitting down with a bowl of soup at a table on the opposite side of the room.

  “Are you kidding me?” he said wi
th a smile. “I work in a call center! Every Fall I end up with some kind of cold that someone brings in here. Sign me up!” It was an open and shut case for him, he had no doubt. He paid it no more thought and continued to butter his roll and started in on his soup.

  “Not me.” said a pretty young receptionist, pulling her dark hair away from her face and glasses. She was a quiet girl, but at the same time possessed an intelligence that her personality kept hidden.

  “Now why is that Jilly?” asked Miss Ella.

  “Needles!” she said, as if the single word would be enough explanation. Besides, she was already reading her book again.

  Always with her head in a book that girl, thought Miss Ella. Perhaps she should lift that pretty face up occasionally and let a good man like Ted see it. Miss Ella liked Ted a lot - a quiet man in his early thirties who was diligent in his custodial duties. He was a pleasant character that always seemed to have an air of sadness about him. Miss Ella thought that Jilly and Ted must be the two smartest, yet loneliest people in the world, or at least the loneliest in this office. She did however catch Jilly looking at him over the top of her glasses and book. She accidentally caught Miss Ella’s smile of approval before quickly looking back down to continue some silly bestselling novel that was sure to be a movie in the near future.

  “You should have Ted go with you to hold your hand,” said Miss Ella, the eternal match-maker.

  “I’ll be waiting on the VA, ma’am, and probably will have had everything it cures by the time I get to take the vaccine.” He gave a hint of a smile and continued to fill the paper towel dispenser. He approved of Ella’s attempts, but always assumed that Jilly would never be interested.

  Eventually, Mr. Thomas and Miss Ella went to get the vaccine, while Ted and Jilly each waited on the other about it, but neither ever did.