AZU-1: Lifehack Page 7
She took aim again, this time in a different area on his torso.
That sharp yet dull sound rang out again and again. More glass shattered and tile flooring inside was fragmented as slugs that wreaked their havoc on the General just kept going. He already looked pretty mangled but it was the one shot that could not pass though him that ended him.
Regan’s final wild shot hit him just below the neck, making a dull metallic sound as it hit. The zombies approaching her stopped suddenly, as if stunned by the sound.
The General seemed to melt as if he had lost the will to hold his body together. The gruesome bits of him slid apart onto the ground, and he was soon just a pile of meat.
The zombies coming towards Regan and all of the guards took a stunned moment, and then started behaving like ‘normal’ zombies; wandering without purpose, some creating mobs.
Without their General, they were mindless. The group that was carrying a computer away as Regan began firing was now gone, lost in the rest of the zombies, their computer left dropped on the ground, case cracked open.
She waited on her rooftop for the aimless zombies to wander away. Some went into Autarlabs and some entered the building she was standing on, but by far the bulk of them eventually just went away to haunt other areas of Autar.
After about two hours of waiting for the zombies to thin out and meander away, the sun was getting close to setting.
In this time, two zombies had wandered up to Regan’s rooftop. Regan had been very ready for them, and cut them down easily.
The gunfire attracted another to come up. Not wanting to attract any more, she tried another tactic. She stood in one corner with the P90 in one hand and used her other hand to drag the AP gun’s bulky case.
When the zombie started getting too close for comfort, she ran to another corner of the rooftop. As the zombie tried to follow, it ended up walking more or less parallel to the edge of the roof.
Regan steadied her stance and swung the bulky case, bashing the zombie against the edge. Its upper body flopped over the edge, lower body still secure.
Not quite what Regan was going for, but she’d take it. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed the zombie’s ankles and tossed him over the edge. She stepped back, looking at her hands, revolted that she had felt some of its skin. She heard it land.
Looking over the edge, she saw it slowly figuring out how to get standing again. When it got upright, it looked around side to side. Regan bit her lips trying not to laugh as it limped away in a randomly chosen direction.
In all the time since she had arrived, Regan hadn’t spotted any activity in the window of Harold’s office. She let out a deep sigh and decided the mob was about as dispersed as it would ever get.
She gathered her gear and started down the stairs. She spotted one more zombie along the way before she made it out, but since it lingered far from the stairwell, it wasn’t difficult to quietly sneak past. She remained vigilant however. She didn’t want to have to fire another shot around here. She also didn’t need another wound to speed up her infection.
As she approached the AutarLabs property she came to the broken computer that the small group had been carrying. How many other computers had other groups taken off with before she arrived, and why?
She envisioned a van somewhere on the other side of town, with a zombie trying to sell stolen computers out the back along with a coat full of ‘genuine’ watches.
The stench here was stronger than anywhere she’d come across so far and it wasn’t all coming from the General’s nearby body. Sure, this huge pile of decayed meat was a significant factor, but so was his legion which had been standing on guard for who knows how long.
This place above any other in Autar, was stained.
Regan looked over to the General’s shambled remains. It didn’t show any signs of having being one giant being. It was now just parts of people, butchered. Sure enough, Regan could make out the shape of a computer tower, ripped open by one of her shots. Maybe the other computers were meant to be the cores to other Generals. Hopefully those plans were ruined at the same moment the other zombies returned to their normal, pointless selves.
~~~~~
Chapter 13: Hollow Chysalis
~~~~~
The AutarLabs lobby appeared much like when she first saw it, in some ways. But now the occasional aloof business types were gone, replaced by four zombies who seemed fascinated with something on the wall towards the far end. It was one of the slugs from the accelerator, and it was pretty mangled. That answered the question about re-using ammo.
Also thanks to the accelerator, little bits of safety glass were scattered across the floor. They crunched as she walked on them. She kept an eye on the little group of zombies to see if they cared. They still seemed content to stare and poke at the wall damage about ten yards away from Regan’s chosen path.
She walked up to the reception desk. The automated receptionist was gone, ripped out of the floor. Pity. Regan was kinda looking forward to some ‘human’ contact. The elevator opened and even obeyed her button press to Harold’s floor without a passcard, like she needed during previous visits. Luck again made up for her own lack of planning ahead. This also meant that zombies could have been riding the elevator at will, especially if they had been ripping off computers.
The elevator opened onto her desired floor. No zombies to be seen. She stepped through the doorway, and a yellow light flashed overhead while a recorded voice rang out.
‘Security alert! Unauthorized personnel entering floor! Security has been dispatched!’
Once the surprise wore off, Regan rolled her eyes at the flashing light. She had imagined automated net guns, or tazers or something. After the automatic receptionist and Harold’s other bragging, the flashing light was a bit of a let down. She slowly walked away from the elevator towards a posted floor directory, and the flashing light gave up.
Once the automated fuss had quit, the stifling silence of the hallway began to close in. The only sound was the ever so slight hum of the lights. Regan walked towards where Harold’s office should be, checking door labels as she called out.
“Hello? Harold? Or anyone else with a pulse?” She held her P90 ready in case someone without a pulse decided to respond. It was becoming apparent that perhaps the entire floor was a desolate husk of former chaos. Disrupted or broken furniture and dividers formed barricades here and there, but the blood signs everywhere suggested that none of them were too effective.
It didn’t look good for Harold.
She found a door that was labeled with Harold’s name, as well as several other names. It wasn’t an office she’d been looking up to, it was a lab. The chaos shown here was minimal compared to other rooms she had seen into. Pushing a fallen stool aside with her foot, she entered and figured where the window she was looking for was.
Sure enough, beneath it was a section of counter that was Harold’s little corner. There was a picture of Regan. It was her grade twelve picture. It was a little embarrassing, but sweet that it was there at all.
There was a tape recorder with a note stuck on it that said ‘play me’.
Regan held it, and looked at Harold’s writing. Stared at it. At great length.
She didn’t really want to hit play, but eventually her hand squeezed on the button, on no other impulse than the fact that it was going to happen eventually.
“Hello,” It was Harold, and he sounded like hell. “This is Doctor Harold Grier. I’ve been wounded rather nicely by one of those things.” Fuck. Dammit. Regan slumped to the floor, letting the recorder slide a short distance on the floor as it continued playing.
“I’ve lost a good deal of blood, and well, my crappy little bandaging attempt won’t do much good. If you’re listening to this, you probably have a clue that the nanite project here is the cause to this whole mess. I’m guessing that thanks to my wounds, my own blood has some of the little buggers.” Wonderful. Regan was probably filled with them by now from her earlier bite.
Regan stared at the floor and touched the back of her head where she was bitten. Yeah, that’s kinda what she figured too.
“But, now I’m kinda in a good news, bad news situation. The good news is that my immune system has been winning against the nanites, slowly but surely, according to repeated blood samples. The bad news is that with the amount of blood loss from my wounds, I’m pretty darn sure I’m not gonna make it.”
Regan tried not to imagine how Harold looked at that point, but grizzly images forced their way in. His voice didn’t help either, staggered with pauses for slow, painful sounding breaths. He also sounded tired. Very slowly slipping closer to unconsciousness due to blood loss.
“So now the question is... at the point when I die, will my immune system have enough oomph left in it to take out the rest of the nanites? I’m pretty sure I won’t be alive long enough to test that… and certainly not conscious. Wouldn’t that be funny? If I died, and my corpse defeated the nanites in me after? If you’re listening to this, and see my peaceful corpse lying around, feel free to have a giggle for me.”
Regan took another glance around her surroundings; just in the oft chance she missed something. There was no body. Just signs of his bleeding, and a discarded, heavily stained rag that had been a crude bandage. He was out there somewhere, walking, roaming, a corpse. A puppet for a bunch of tiny robots.
“Little fuckers!” Regan yelled. It echoed in the lab, mercifully covering up the recording as Harold gasped a ragged breath.
She stared at the recorder bitterly. He’d been working on nanites. Could he have in any way be responsible for this mess? No.. not directly at least. Harold’s voice resumed.
“Oh. I don’t know when or if this is gonna be found. If you can, and if she… if she made it out of this… my sister, Regan... Regan Grier. Um. I don’t know. Tell her I love ‘er. And. I don’t know what else. Just to look out for herself. Regan, I’m not gonna be able to help you out anymore. Learn to stand strong, okay? Um…. Yeah, I guess that’s it.”
There was a click as his recording ended.
She stood and stared at the little device. Tears burnt in her eyes. She wanted to scream. Scream and scream until she passed out. Stand strong, huh? She was trembling, tense. Was this strength? What the hell kind of strength did he expect her to have now?
She saw his silver ring. He always took it off when working, and there it sat in the sill of the window, waiting for him to come back and claim it. His sister would have to do today. It was too big for her. She stared at it. If it irritated him so much to wear, why did he keep putting it back on?
Regan almost cracked a smile. It was like her. She irritated him too, but he kept putting up with her.
And now he was dead.
Worse than dead, actually. If she had gotten in faster, could she have done anything? Made him a proper goddam bandage for one? So her big rescue… all this effort was for nothing.
At least she knew now that whatever nanites that were in her own body were doomed, as long as she stayed alive. Now she could leave this city. This wondrous city of Autar. This grave. She could walk to the wall, wave down those snipers, and get out.
And leave Harold here to wander.
Bullshit.
She owed him. Hell, even if she didn’t, she didn’t have anything else. He was her whole family, and she wasn’t about to just let these things use his body like that. Besides, since Harold was all she had, she was all alone now. She could be just as alone in Autar as she could out in the rest of the world.
She stared out the window, gripping his ring, staring across Autar’s vast terrain. Finding Harold would take a while.
And then what? If nothing else, bring his body rest. She put the ring in her pocket and walked into the hall. This building was the logical place to start looking.
Around the city, the new wall stood to contain it. To contain the dead. Snipers sat in powerful gunnery, watching the outskirts, ready to destroy any corpses that tried to leave.
Around the wall, stretched the desert. Before Autar was built, it was merely a lifeless stretch of desert. Now it was home to death.
Around the desert, the world stared. Stared at this wall, stared at this dead city. Mourning, shocked, confused. Afraid that it could happen in their city, and wondering how, and why.
Time passed, and forgotten by the world, Regan searched.
And searched.
And time passed.
~~~~~
Chapter 14: Crown Keepers
~~~~~
The air around Autar was as still and silent as a crypt. No crickets were heard at night, and no birds in the day. Not here. Not for a little over two years.
The city had been left for dead, and left to the dead.
Occasionally, the smell of a crypt would wander out, carried by the wind. Decay, dust, and maybe a bit of rust, or chemicals. The soldiers of the quarantine wall would say “It smells like Autar tonight.”
Around this city was built a wall. Thick and tall, it looked very much like a huge circular dam. On the north edge of the wall there stood a great metal door which led from the surrounding wasteland, into the wall’s interior. No door on the north side faced the city.
On the south side an even greater set of doors, almost fit for a coliseum, faced inwards to the city. To pass through the wall into the city area one had to enter the wall from the north, travel the entire distance to the south end, then go through those doors.
The top of the wall was dotted with sentry stations, each with a grim looking gun pointing in towards the city. This has spawned the nickname of Autar’s “crown of thorns”. These ‘thorns’, were the ZS-103 ‘zippers’.
The zippers were designed specifically for the guarding of the Autar wall, and could deliver a lot of lead to a precise target. A zipper’s floor mounting sported a sensitive system of hydraulics and a noise suppressor, allowing the gunner to pump 5.7mm hollow point rounds from a belt up to 1200 RPM, with luxurious ease.
Corporal Robert Parker was one such gunner. He leaned on the controls of his zipper, contentedly listening to the chatter of the night watch. He was younger than most of them, but his ability, likability, and level head tended to make him the unofficial leader of the watch.
Parker surveyed his edge of the city through the scope of his Zipper. Aside from the comm chatter, the night was silent
“I spy,” hummed the voice of Richards, another gunner, “Something near the northwest cornerstone, and it’s yellow.”
“Yellow? Must be you, Richards!” immediately retorted another voice. Richards seemed to be heading up the game of ‘I spy’, and he was on the north side so Parker had given up on playing much. He kept scanning the lower area near the outskirts.
After hours since the last sighting, Parker saw something move. “I have motion in the south lower outskirts. I’m dropping a VTag on it...... Bam.” Parker centered with crosshairs on the motion, and tapped a hotkey on his scope. A VTag appeared on everyone’s display to show them exactly where he meant. “Someone help me out here.”
“I’m with ya,” reported Jerins, who manned the station to Parker’s right. “Yeah, that’s motion all right. Coming out from behind the rubble.”
“Ok.” Parker replied, “Major, you listening?” Parker hoped that Major Grant, the wall’s CO, was monitoring things from his office as he often did.
“I see it.” The Major replied. “Hold off a sec.”
“Check.” Parker, Jerins, and the Major watched intently while the other wall gunners kept radio chatter to a minimum. Finally, the source of the motion revealed itself.
“Yup. That’s a zombie. Hey, a
nother one wearing a hawaiian shirt.” Jerins observed.
“Permission to open fire, Major?” Parker asked.
“Hold up a bit, Corporal....just wait for it......” The Major had predicted well. The zombie made its way forward and moved a sheet of metal out of the way revealing three more. “Ha. Silly twits. Let em come out into the open a bit more.... and.... alright Parker, you spotted it, Let em have it. Fire.”
Parker ‘opened up his Zipper’, and sent a swarm of metal towards the small team of undead. The hollow points practically exploded against the zombies, shattering and obliterating them.
A few moments of silence passed. All else aside, these things were once human, and they were now at peace. Even the rowdiest of the team respected this. But respect only lasts so long. A haggard-sounding voice came from Jerins’ com. “Arrrrrrrr... whassa mattaaaaa? Didn’t you like my shirrrrt?”
Such was the duty of the Autar Guard. Keep the zombies at bay, keep the rest of the world safe. Of course, it’s only a stopgap.
In the two years since the initial incident, no one had forgotten, but most of the world was happy to ignore Autar. Now and then the news would make mention of it and run footage of the soldiers who came out alive.
The zombies never stopped coming, and no cause was ever found. The officials in charge had decided surprisingly early to essentially give up on Autar. The wall had been built, the guard was in place, and there was no further threat to the public.
As time passed the debate about what to do about Autar began to fade into the academic.
~~~~~
Chapter 15: Understaffed
~~~~~
Captain Alisia Terone had been stationed at Autar for roughly a year. She had been posted to a team whose duty it was to enter the city and put as many of the zombies to rest as they could.