Chaos

feet with a cry of surprise, lands on the concrete floor and slides to a stop just a few feet in front of her. Another figure in fatigues is on top already clawing and biting into him. A wet ripping sound echoes across the vast interior, followed by the soldier’s screams. Small droplets of blood splatter against the gray concrete floor beside the pile of two writhing bodies. The four soldiers stand just inside the armory doors, paralyzed as the one that was swept from their midst continues to be ravaged on the concrete floor at their feet.

However, without hesitation, Lynn drops the clipboard and launches herself at the soldier on top. Landing on its back, she wraps her right arm around its throat and continues her roll to the right, finishing on her back with the other on top in a choke hold. The thing on top of her snarls and writhes in an attempt to break her hold. Lynn wraps her legs around the others legs in order to subdue the creature thrashing on top of her.

“Calm down soldier!” She yells into its ear and tightens her grip around its throat.

Time both slows down and speeds up as the thing on top of her continues to thrash. The central thought of subduing the soldier on top of her permeates her mind, but another small thought enters and she is thankful for the daily workouts in the gym as the thing on top latches onto her right arm around its throat and pulls attempting to break her grip. Damn he’s strong, she thinks as she feels her choke hold weaken. She brings her left hand up to her right arm to add strength to her grip and feels the hold tighten up once again. The being on top of her whips its head wildly about but the adrenaline coursing through her adds strength and the thrashing becomes less and less until it stops completely, becoming a dead weight on her chest.

Lynn releases her grip and rolls the creature off and to the left. She rolls to her knees and reaches over to the limp form now lying face down on the floor beside her, checking quickly for a pulse. Finding one, she then scans around the armory interior before crawling over to the injured soldier who is now sitting up with his left hand to his cheek. Streams of blood run between his fingers and down onto his fatigue shirt.

“You four, make sure he stays subdued. Let me know the instant he starts coming around,” she says pointing to the unconscious form on the ground and startling the four out of their trance.

“Here, let me see that,” she says to the bleeding soldier.

As he withdraws his hand, she sees a chunk of flesh has been taken out of his left cheek and is bleeding freely as facial wounds will. Lynn removes her fatigue shirt and t-shirt underneath pressing the t-shirt against his wound.

“Hold that tight,” she says and replaces her fatigue top.

The Corporal turns his head, looking into her eyes, his eyes still wide with fear and adrenaline. “Thanks, Sergeant,” he says pressing his hand to the t-shirt, holding it in place.

“No worries, Corporal,” she replies and looks to the door, noticing heads poking into the room.

“Go find me some speed tape,” she says to a group gathered at the entrance peeking in, and the heads disappear.

Lynn then sits with a heavy sigh and looks over the lit interior more closely. Racks of weapons line the middle interior and walls.  There are also crates stacked at intervals throughout the room. There is no sign of movement and she glances back at the three enlisted men and one woman around the unconscious form on the floor. One of the men is holding the form’s arms at its back while another sits on its legs. Standing, Lynn takes a couple of steps over to assess.

“Roll him onto his back,” she says wanting to get a look at him.

Releasing his hold on the arms, one of the soldiers rolls it face up. There is almost a unified gasp as the attacker is shown in the bright lights. Its skin is a pale ashen gray, mottled by darker gray patches both large and small with a patch of bright red blood splashed on the lips and skin around the mouth. Thinking she has killed the soldier, Lynn reaches out once again to check for a pulse. The skin feels clammy and cool to the touch, almost like it should be wet. Her fingers come up dry though as she verifies a rapid pulse from its neck.

“What happened to him?” One of the Privates asks gazing down with wide eyes and raised eyebrows at the still form.

“I don’t know,” she says thinking it must have something to do with the vaccinations or the flu itself. Perhaps that’s why they stopped the vaccinations, she thinks to herself.

She hears steps behind her and turns her head over her shoulder to see another soldier approach with a roll of duct tape in his hand. “Found some, First Sergeant,” he says and hands it to her.

Rolling the thing on its back once more, they bind its hands and ankles. “Get him outside,” she says as they finish up.

“Clear a path!” She yells to the group at the entrance and the entrance room beyond.

Lynn follows behind as they carry the body, two grabbing under the arms and another at the feet. She can hear several muted gasps as others see the body for the first time. They carry it outside.

“Set him there,” she says pointing to a spot of deeper sand just away from the building. “And find something to shade him with.”

Emerging from the shadow of the building, with the entire group in tow, they set the still unconscious body on the sand. “What happened in there, Sergeant Connell?” Major Bannerman asks once they are outside into the bright sun and fierce heat.

The question falls on seemingly deaf ears as Lynn and the rest are staring at the figure and the immediate transformation it seems to be going through. The exposed skin of the face begins to redden, becoming like an instant sunburn. The thing’s eyes pop open widely and it begins to howl and shriek, thrashing wildly, its back arching up as though in extreme pain. The skin’s redness darkens even further, to the point where it seems like it should be smoking. The ear-piercing shrieks continue almost non-stop, all of this happening within seconds.

“Get it inside!” Lynn yells above the shrieks and takes a step towards it to help.

Before her second step, the wild arching subsides and it falls limply to the ground as the shrieking abruptly ends. She rapidly goes to her knees beside the limp form checking for a pulse but finds none. The skin is extremely warm and dry to her touch.

“He’s dead,” she says, looking back over her shoulder at the group and Major Bannerman.

Standing, Lynn then answers Bannerman’s question and relates the events inside, giving more of an overview than a detailed description. “Sir, may I speak?” She asks after finishing her description. Major Bannerman then leads her a little ways away from the group.

“Sir, I think we may be dealing with some kind of reaction to either the vaccination or the flu itself. It appears that whatever it is makes them hostile attacking others. And whatever transformation it is apparently makes them quite sensitive to light. Or outside light at least,” she says pulling several facts together. Those being that they seem to be active at night and that they found this one in a darkened room along with its reaction to the outside light. “I think we should deal with them as hostiles until we know better.”

“Good idea, Sergeant,” Bannerman says, “We’ll draw weapons and hole up in the TOC until help arrives.”

“Sir, I’m not sure help is coming if this is associated with the vaccinations. The whole world was inoculated or at least exposed to the virus. And, I tried calling almost everyone back at Lewis along with several other installations. No one answered.”

“What’s your suggestion then, Sergeant Connell? How are we going to get out of here?”

“I would suggest we arm up, gather water and rations and hole up in the tower at the airfield. It will have telephones along with radios to contact any aircraft still flying. Plus, it’s easily defendable. We have plenty of food and water here if things are truly a worst case scenario,” Lynn replies to his questions. “If we can hold out here for perhaps five days and no help arrives, then we can load up vehicles with rations, fuel, and ammo and evaluate the best route and destination.”

“Very good, Sergeant. That sounds good to me,” Bannerman says and turns back towards the group.

The very first thoughts of the surrealness of the situation begin to form in Lynn’s mind. This may be similar to the very situations Jack, her, and a few others discussed as wild, ‘what if’ scenarios. What would they do if a zombie invasion happened? Is this really something global? She thinks. I hope Jack is okay. Will he actually come pick me up as they discussed? Too weird to think about but the tower is a logical place to go in any case.

Back at the group, who is mostly staring at the limp body lying in the sand, Major Bannerman addresses the group and details the plan they came up with.

“What about leaving now, sir?” A voice sounds from somewhere in the group.

“It’s a deathtrap here, sir,” another sounds out.