The Great Wreck Read Free

the long drive out to the isolated
facility, he had found a stash of tapes that carefully documented each of his
wife’s affairs in graphic detail.
    She
seems to be enjoying herself, he thought as he wife cried out under her lover
in ways she never did for him. Carl felt his life and his sanity slip away. He
carefully replaced the tapes in their secret spot in the back of the closet,
finished getting ready for work, and made the ninety minute drive out to the
research facility where he promptly entered his laboratory and injected himself
with a very nasty concoction of rabies virus that killed him within the space
of a very few minutes. His staff, shocked at witnessing his calm and controlled
suicide rushed to his side as the virus worked through his body and rapidly
brought his heart to a stop.
                Shocked, they all stood, crouched,
or knelt next to his corpse and began to realize they all might have been
exposed to whatever the good doctor may have injected into him. For a split
second, someone, anyone could have halted the holocaust that would in the years
to follow sweep away human civilization. Someone, anyone could have slapped one
of the many bright red buttons, the big, shiny , candy - like red buttons scattered around the laboratory. Each one located
at every entrance, every doorway, and every work station that would have sealed
the facility and isolated the microbial nightmares that they kept contained
there. Of course, there were the others making their way through urban
population centers, but the good folks at the Black Rock Research Center did
not know that. And so no one moved and when Carl sat straight up after being so
clearly dead, his staff gaped in amazement thinking that they might have dodge
a very deadly bullet.
    Then
the feeding began.
                Carl bit his young, pretty assistant
on the throat. A move he had fantasized about many times when he was alive but
not exactly in this context. She screamed repeatedly sounding an awful lot like
his wife and her lovers. Had Carl been alive, he might have relished the irony,
but he was dead and what was left of him rapidly devoured his pretty little lab
assistant before launching onto another. A few seconds later, the pretty little
lab assistant was up and diving into the fleeing researches like a tight end
making the winning tackle in a football game. And they bit their friends. And
they bite their friends, and so on,
and so on until the entire facility was engaged in a massive slaughter. By noon
it was over and the things that used to be normal people working towards the
good of all mankind were now shambling about the dead facility in various
states of half eaten carnage.
                Then the delivery guy came in the
front door. They were on him before he realized what was happening. There were
so many on top of him that when they were done, there was nothing to come back
from the dead except a few scraps of bloody cloth and bone fragments. But what
was left of him managed to prop the front door open and through this the dead
things of the facility poured out and into the desert.
                What was left of Carl Spencer Dennis
stood at the bitter edge of the Black Rock Research Center. The guard in the
security shack was then well and truly eaten and the thick security gate was
slowly sliding open. What used to be Carl stood there looking at the wide open
road that lead back to the suburbs of Gallup. Deep in the dead mind of the
thing, where the brain had not completely died, a memory arose. Carl began to
shuffle his feet along the asphalt highway heading north. Carl was going home.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    Signal
Lost
    Patient Zero One Whisky
    (New York Proving Ground)

 
 
 
    Test Subject
PZ-1W Identification:    (Redacted)
    Time of
injection:                                 (Redacted)
    Time of
release: