Apocalypse twc-1 Page 4

  Everyone stared at the body in horror, now fat and trembling uncontrollably. The skin stretched as liquid beneath it bulged outward. Then, it erupted with a sickening plop. Purple, gray, and red splattered the walls, the ceiling, covering the window through which I watched.

  The stench made me vomit in my mouth.

  I turned aside to spit it out. Khloe grabbed me by the shoulders, pulling me into the main part of the medical bay.

  I didn’t merely feel physically sick, but emotionally sick. My dad was in there.

  My dad, who was probably now infected with the xenovirus.

  Chapter 8

  Khloe pulled me away from the door and back into the medical bay. We stood there, unsure of what to do.

  “Stay here,” Khloe said. “It might be okay…”

  No words could describe the horror we had witnessed. The man had come back to life and exploded. I didn’t see how it was possible. But there was no denying what I had seen.

  The door opened. The four men walked into the medical bay. The purple slime covered their heads, their bodies, their mouths, their eyes. The odds of them escaping the xenovirus were slim to none.

  They stared at us. I could see nothing but horror. My father, having removed his glasses, stared at the floor. Chan, however, was eerily calm. I could see the hate in his eyes, as if I were to blame for what had happened.

  “Everyone, to the showers,” my father said. He looked at me as he said this, though I knew he was not talking to me. “There is still a chance it might not be too late.”

  There was an air of defeat in his voice.

  “Stay here,” Chan said to us. “You are not to leave.”

  They filed off for the showers, leaving Khloe and me alone in the med bay.

  “Maybe…maybe they’ll be okay…” Khloe said. “It’s not impossible, is it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  We just stood there, not talking, for the whole time we waited. I could not suppress the sickening dread I felt. Ten minutes later, all four men reemerged wearing scrubs.

  Before anyone else could, Chan spoke.

  “Stay here,” he said. “Stay here, and wait.”

  Officer Chan raised his communicator.

  “Officer Hutton, report to the medical bay, immediately.”

  Everyone waited in silence for the one minute it took for Officer Hutton to come. When he entered the bay, he stopped short, his normally stony demeanor shocked. He was of average height and a broad build, and had a trim black beard and short, black hair. Burt Hutton was Chan’s second in command.

  “What is going on?” Officer Hutton asked, eyeing the four men’s scrubs up and down.

  “Come with me,” Chan said. “All of you. Alex, Khloe, Hutton…stay on the other side of Dr. Keener’s desk.”

  We followed Chan into my father’s office. He sat down in the chair. For the first time in my life, I saw Chan scared. His face was white.

  Khloe, Officer Hutton, and I stood by the door. The other four men stood on the far side of the desk.

  The room was quiet for a long while. Then, Chan looked up.

  “There is not a small chance,” he began, “that me, Dr. Keener, and assistants Ybarra and Jones will soon fall ill and die.”

  Hutton’s eyes widened. “What is this, some sort of joke?”

  “Officer Hutton,” Chan said, “you know full well that the chance that my words are true far outweighs the chance that I would joke about a matter of such gravity.”

  Hutton stared at Chan in shock. But Chan went on, regardless.

  “In a matter of days – maybe even hours, I will likely be dead, along with everyone else who was in the room with the patient. We are infected with the xenovirus, a strain that targets humans.”

  I searched my father’s eyes for some other answer – any answer that was not this. But he was grave and clearly believed in his own doom as much as Chan.

  Chan was giving Hutton instructions on what to do. To assemble the officers, making them aware of the situation. To post a constant guard of four officers by the medical bay, allowing no one to enter or exit. Chan gave Officer Hutton full authority to do all this, and as Chan’s second, to assume control of the Bunker.

  It sounded so clinical, the way Chan made plans for four eventual deaths. How could his mind work so clearly at a time like this? It made me hate him, the fact he did not even acknowledge the tragedy of the situation.

  My dad was dying.

  “Lead the children out, and return them to their families.”

  “This is my family!” I yelled, pointing at my dad. “He is all I have!”

  Everyone was looking at me – Khloe and my father, with tears in their eyes.

  “It will be alright, son,” my dad said. “I’ll be fine.”

  “How do you know that?” I asked, tears stinging my eyes. “You don’t.”

  “You can stay with us,” Khloe whispered.

  “That will do nicely,” Chan said, glad to have me out of the way.

  “Dad, is this it? Will I ever see you again?”

  He looked at me without a word. This time, he did not lie. His eyes told me everything.

  I walked up, meaning to hug him.

  “Stop!” Chan yelled. “You are close enough!”

  I halted in my tracks.

  “Chan,” my father said, “that is enough.”

  “I will not risk any contraction of the disease. That I even allow this is a mercy. The children have both been in here long enough.”

  I looked at my dad, tears beginning to sting my eyes.

  “It’ll be alright, son,” he said. “You need to do as Officer Chan says. It may yet be alright. I feel fine now.”

  “Dad…”

  “Step away,” Chan said. “That is quite enough.”

  I turned to him, my fists clenched.

  “Alex,” my father said. “Do not waste words. This is not the end for you. I know you believe it is…but it isn’t.”

  I stared at him through my tears.

  “You must be strong, son. There are people depending on you. You are a man. Never forget that. What does a man do?”

  I recalled the words he had told me what seems hundreds of times.

  “A man does not do what he wants,” I said. “He does what he must.”

  “Yes. Never forget it. I don’t want to stay here, Alex. None of us do. I must.”

  “What will I do without you?”

  He looked at me for a long moment, as if he didn’t know the answer to that. “It’s not over yet, Alex. You must not linger here any longer. You have a duty, to fill your role here. To help people. To protect people. To give them your strength.”

  Chan nodded to Hutton. Hutton placed a hand on my shoulder. As he guided Khloe and me out of the room, I did not resist him.

  “I love you, Alex. Never forget that.”

  “I love you, too, Dad.”

  “When you have escorted them out, Officer Hutton, return here,” Chan said. “I will brief you on what is to be done next.”

  Hutton nodded. “Let’s go, kids.”

  Grabbing each of us in his large, meaty hands, he pulled us out of my dad’s office and across the bay. I was trying to hold it together, but I knew it wouldn’t be long until I burst.

  Khloe and I left the medical bay, and Hutton turned back inside, shutting the double doors behind him. Two burly officers in helmets stationed themselves by the door.

  I walked across the corridor and sank against the wall.

  Then, Khloe’s face filled my vision. She placed a hand on my right cheek, wiping my tears away.

  “Come on,” she whispered. “Let’s get you home. He might be alright, Alex. He seemed fine when we were in there.”

  “I hope so,” I said.

  But even as I said it, I knew it was a long shot.

  She sat down next to me. We sat like that, for a while. People walked by, asking what happened. I didn’t answer. Khloe didn’t answer. She just held me like
I was a child. The guards would quietly explain that the medical bay was off limits, and gave no reason for why. They mentioned nothing about my father, Chan, or my father’s assistants.

  “They don’t know…” I whispered.

  Khloe did not answer. Soon, there was such a crowd that I couldn’t stand it. I needed to be alone.

  I started to get up.

  “Come with me,” she said, pulling me by the wrist. “You need to rest.”

  “I need my dad.”

  She did not argue. Gently, yet firmly, she pulled me with her. I felt a pulsating emptiness in my soul. The only thing connecting me to reality was Khloe.

  We reached her family’s apartment. I lay down on her bed as she went to the main room to talk to her parents and explain what was going on. While there, I felt completely alone.

  Her parents came in, but I don’t remember anything they told me. I just closed my eyes, tuning out everything.

  When I opened my eyes again, the light was out. I had fallen asleep. I stared for what seemed hours at a picture on the nightstand of Khloe and her family. The picture was old – Khloe was smaller, and her little sister stood next to her, smiling. Abby had been dead now for two years.

  Death. So much death. The Wasteland was not out there. It was in here.

  Chapter 9

  It was night, and the lights were out. Khloe was sleeping on the floor next to me.

  I reached down and nudged her.

  “What?” she asked, voice thick with sleep.

  “I can’t let you sleep there.”

  Khloe wiped her eyes. “Don’t be stupid. You need to sleep.”

  “So do you. There’s room for you here.”

  She stood up. Her face was tender as her eyes gazed into mine.

  I was on the verge of tears as I recalled the events of the day. I put my hands to her beautiful face, letting them slide down her neck and rest on her shoulders. She lay down in front of me as I pulled her closer. We stared into each other’s eyes.

  I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around her, drawing her close, enjoying her warmth, feeling her heartbeat.

  “I feel like you’re all I have, now,” I said.

  Khloe didn’t say anything for a while. “I was so sad when I lost my sister. We fought so much, and I lost her. I still feel guilty about it. I wish I didn’t have to. I think that’s part of being human, though. We wish we could control things, but we can’t. It’s always too late.”

  I opened my eyes. Khloe was looking at me.

  “Not always,” I said.

  I leaned forward to kiss her, her lips soft and warm. She kissed me back tenderly, healingly.

  She was all I had, now. I didn’t ever want to let go and feel the emptiness again.

  We fell asleep in each other’s arms. For one moment, everything was almost okay.

  * * *

  I was on the edge of consciousness when the wailing of klaxons shocked me awake. Red light bathed the room. I shot up in bed, Khloe’s hand latching onto my arm like a vise.

  The siren screamed, over and over, fading in and out.

  “What’s happening?” Khloe asked.

  “I don’t know. Where are your parents?”

  “They’re on nightshift at the lab.”

  By lab, Khloe meant the hydroponics lab – the largest room in the Bunker. It was located in the subbasement, near the generators. It was where all the food was grown.

  I pulled on my hoodie. The siren, coupled with the red light, made me feel like I was living in a surreal nightmare. Maybe I was.

  “Let’s go into the other room,” I said.

  We got up and went to the living room. We stood by the intercom. In the event of an alarm, it was what we were supposed to do. But no reassuring voice came. Maybe it would never come.

  My father…what if something had happened? What if he had gone haywire, like the man Chan had shot down?

  Khloe looked at me, searching my eyes.

  “My father is dead,” I said. “He is dead.”

  “How do you know? Maybe…”

  “What else could it be? My father, Chan, the others…they got out of the med bay, somehow. And if it’s anything like the patient, then we’re all in a lot of trouble.”

  Khloe grabbed my hand. “You’re right. We have to go.”

  “Go where?”

  “Out.”

  “Outside?”

  Then, I heard screams. A gunshot. A snarl. A body falling, outside our door to the corridor. I felt coldness creep over me.

  Something was out there.

  I could not deal with this. Not now.

  I looked madly for something that could be used as a weapon. A lamp. A large book.

  A skillet in the kitchen.

  I ran to get it as the door slammed open. I stared up. It was an officer, hairless, his eyes wild and completely white. For a moment, I froze in my tracks. Two lacerations split his face open, where someone had slashed him with a knife. He stumbled forward, toward Khloe.

  Khloe screamed. But instead of cowering as I might have done, she ran toward him, pushing him back outside. The attacker growled, and went for her again.

  Skillet in hand, I charged the officer. Khloe screamed again, pushing on the man’s shoulders. His mouth snapped viciously toward her neck. She punched him in the face. I clobbered the officer’s head with the skillet. He fell to the ground, and I smashed his head in, again and again. His eyelids fluttered, then stilled, revealing completely white orbs. Purplish blood oozed from his mouth.

  That’s when I noticed his body quivering and bloating.

  “Run!”

  We ran past the man and into the corridor. I slammed the door shut. Just in time, because I heard a sickening pop. As I held the door closed, I felt it vibrate as it was splattered with goo from the other side.

  We paused for a moment to collect our breaths.

  “What is going on?” Khloe asked.

  I looked down, noticing the officer had dropped a handgun by the door. I grabbed it, checking the magazine for bullets. There were four left.

  “Like you said. We’re leaving.”

  “What about my parents? We need to get to the hydroponics lab.”

  “We’ve got to go there now,” I said. “Take this. You might need it.”

  I handed Khloe the skillet. She took it with wide eyes.

  She led the way. I followed her through the empty hall, my gun at the ready. The wailing sirens and lights bathed the floor in eerie red.

  We turned the corner and found a body, already ruptured. Purple goop dripped from the ceiling. A line of slime fell, missing my face by a hair.

  “Watch the ceiling,” I said. “Any of that stuff gets inside of you, you’re done.”

  Khloe nodded, shaky.

  We entered the commons. The room was empty, but I heard voices and the sounds of a struggle coming from a hallway leading from the other side. Several dead bodies lay on the floor, mutilated. I recognized the corpse of one of my classmates, Vincent Corley. He had been athletic, smart, and popular.

  Now, his right arm was completely ripped off.

  “Vincent…” Khloe said.

  Then, gunshots sounded in the distance, followed by bloodcurdling screams and inhuman wails. They were coming from the direction of the Caf.

  “We can’t go that way,” I said.

  “There are stairs nearby,” Khloe said. “Follow me.”

  We went down two flights, to the lowest level in the Bunker. After the first flight, we heard someone’s raspy breath just a few feet away. I did not know if they were one of the infected, or just injured. Either way, we didn’t stay to find out. We quietly descended the second flight without his or her knowing.

  We were now in front of the door that led into the hydroponics lab. We entered, finding ourselves among aisles and aisles of plants bearing enough fruits and vegetables to sustain several hundred people year-round. Unlike the rest of the Bunker, this room, if it could be so called because it
was so enormous, smelled fresh. All the aisles added together were miles long.

  I enjoyed coming here from time to time, but now, the place was dark and frightening. I did not know what horrors could be hiding in the shadows, around the next corner.

  “Mom? Dad?” Khloe called.

  Khloe’s voice echoed and died.

  We walked the aisles, one by one, checking each. But the entire room seemed empty.

  “We should have stayed home,” Khloe said. “They probably went back to get us…”

  “Maybe.”

  “I can’t leave without them,” Khloe said. “It wouldn’t be right.”

  Just then, a door slammed open. I spun on my heels, raising my gun. When I saw it was Khloe’s parents, I lowered my weapon.

  “Mom! Dad!”

  Khloe ran and threw herself on her mom. Mr. and Mrs. Kline embraced her, racked with sobs.

  “Thank God you’re here,” Mrs. Kline said.

  Mr. Kline said nothing – he only held his daughter as if he never wanted to let her go.

  Both had brown hair. Mr. Kline had a bookish look to him, and wore black-rimmed glasses. Despite this, he was tall and fit. Mrs. Kline was short, a little stout, but in shape. She had kind, gentle eyes.

  I felt an intense sense of relief at seeing them. However, the reunion was dragging on too long.

  “We need to leave,” I said.

  “Yes,” Mr. Kline said. “We just came from the Caf. There are about a dozen making a stand. The rest…”

  “We have more of chance out there than in here,” I said.

  “You’re right,” Mr. Kline said. “There’s an exit that leads to the atrium this way. Follow me.”

  We followed Mr. Kline to a corner of the lab. There was a small, nondescript door, locked by keycard. Mr. Kline used his card. It beeped, and the lock clicked open.

  “Only your mother and I, and some of the officers have access to this area,” Mr. Kline said. “It’s where we recycle the hydroponic fluid.”

  We passed rows of blue barrels, all filled with the nutrient-rich liquid needed to grow the plants in the next room without soil. The room itself was massive, filled with large, complex machinery. Mr. Kline was the operator of the recycling tanks, and probably the only person who knew the intricacies of the machines. Thick hoses left the room through the wall in order to feed the huge farms of the lab. This room was, arguably, the most important in the entire Bunker. Without it, everyone starved. No wonder it was kept so secure.