Villains of the Apocalypse Read Free

soon.
     
    CHAPTER 3
     
    Doctor Hunter stood in the mobile testing facility. In front of him were four dead bodies. There was supposed to be five.
    Next to Hunter was one of his colleagues, a young research scientist by the name of John Nielson.
    “Where is the eldest son?” Hunter asked, checking his notes. “Where is Farid Ali?”
    “He was discharged,” John answered.
    “Why?”
    “He responded well to the new anti-virus. His vitals all improved. I thought that...”
    “You thought what?”
    “That’s the protocol. If they improve, if they’re healthy, they are released.”
    “How long did you monitor his symptoms for?”
    “Seventy-two hours.”
    “And there was no decline?”
    “No. There was nothing. He was stable.”
    “But none of his family survived?”
    “No. They all died within the hour.”
    “And you didn’t find it suspicious that Farid was the only one who did not die?”
    “We monitored him for three days. There was no change.”
    “I don’t think you understand what we are dealing with here. This virus, it adapts. It changes. And it changes quickly. Faster than anything we have ever seen. Influenza will change on a yearly basis. But this thing changes every day, every week.”
    “But the new anti-virus…”
    “The new anti-virus isn’t working. Nothing is working anymore.”
    “What? Impossible. If the new anti-virus is no longer working than what the hell are we doing here?”
    “We are creating history.”
    “But the test subjects are declining. They are dying. I mean, how many?”
    “All of them.”
    John swallowed hard. His hands began to shake. “So what now?”
    “Now we conduct an autopsy. I want to know everything.”
    Doctor Hunter’s phone rang. “What? They found him?” Hunter swore under his breath. “Seal off that room. No one gets in until I get there.”
    He hung up.
    “What is it?”
    “They found Farid. He had his neck slashed. Murder.”
    “By who?”
    “Not sure. But I am going to find out. Close this facility. I want you at Outpost Six. You are going to perform an autopsy on Farid Ali. I want to know how he survived for so long. And I want you to examine the killer. Find out if the virus was transferred to him. Apparently there was a lot of blood at the scene.”
    “What are you going to do?” John asked.
    “I’m going to make sure Farid’s room is not contaminated.”
     
    CHAPTER 4
     
    OUTPOST SIX
LOCATION: CLASSIFIED
     
    Bashir woke up in an unfamiliar room. He was on his back. He was on a bed. Bright fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling.
    Bashir noticed other beds in the room. At least a dozen. The other beds were sectioned off with plastic sheets. On each of the sheets was a large, black bio-hazard symbol.
    Bashir was groggy. His head throbbed. He sat up and tried to get his bearings. His hands were handcuffed behind his back.
    Someone walked into the room through a pressurized door. He was wearing a HAZMAT suit.
    “Awake are we?” the man asked. “How are you feeling?”
    The man’s nametag read: John Nielson. Clinical Research Specialist.
    He walked over and before Bashir could react, before he could do anything, the man jabbed him in the thigh with a needle and pushed down on the plunger. Bashir felt something warm rush up his leg and his whole body.
    A few minutes later he felt feverish. His joints ached. His whole body ached.
    Another person entered the room. He was also wearing a HAZMAT suit.
    His nametag simply said that he was a translator. His name was Frank.
    “Subject’s name?” Frank asked John.
    “Not sure. He was arrested in the Woomera Immigration Center. They sent him here.”
    “Arrested? For what?”
    “Murder.”
    “No shit.”
    “Yeah.Pretty crazy.”
    “So we don’t even know his name?”
    “Nope.”
    “Is he dangerous?”
    “I don’t think so. He’s handcuffed. He can’t do anything.”
    Bashir spoke to the translator in Persian. “Leave.”
    John stopped writing notes on his clipboard.