The Last Invasion Read online

  He had gathered up the equipment on a tray and brought it over, then as something unknown nagged at the back of his mind, Greg made his excuses and left the room, heading to his office across the corridor. He quickly found her medical notes, they were yet to be updated on the system and were in the dusty old filing cabinet where all records were kept now before being added to the computer:

  Kara was twenty-seven, in good health. She had no previous record of any kind of accident, so perhaps she was not clumsy by nature. It certainly didn't look like sheer bad luck, though – not as he read Christian's notes mentioning a visit a few months back before the bites. She had asked him if he knew of any bite virus positive guys who would be willing to donate sperm. She had told him she wanted a bite virus child, because they had 'gifts'...

  “How can anyone be so stupid?” he muttered, shutting the notes with a snap and shoving them back in the drawer. He left the office and returned to the treatment room, then took a seat once more and looked across the table at Kara.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked as he looked at her angrily.

  “I just saw your notes. I take back what I said about you being lucky – you're not lucky at all, there's no cure for stupidity! You've deliberately risked your life four times getting bitten because you want the bite virus?”

  Her eyes widened in alarm.

  “I... I did explain to Doctor Wells...”

  “And he refused to help you. I'm glad he refused, you must be out of your mind!”

  She glanced down at the wound oozing blood, then slowly met his gaze.

  “I want a virus child.”

  “Then find a bite virus positive man who wants the challenge of raising one of these special kids. It's hard work. Don't under estimate that.”

  She gave a sigh.

  “There are very few guys in this town who are positive. One has a boyfriend, one has a wife and four children and the others are too young to want kids or too old to be interested. And there was crazy Casper, but he left town.”

  Greg stared at her.

  “How do you get all this information? We kept the bite virus patients confidential!”

  “It's a small town, Doc. People talk.”

  “So you thought you'd get bitten and become a carrier? That's honestly a whole new level of stupidity, I've never heard of anyone doing that before. You let a zombie bite you, on purpose, to one day ensure you have a child that was different? I'm more concerned about your sanity than your arm!”

  His words had little impact as Kara gave her reply.

  “You know how special they are – these virus kids have gifts! They're like the new breed of human, a gift that can save us all! They can walk unseen through hordes. I've heard the stories! One day those kids could clean up this world! They're tomorrows super heroes, you must know that, Doc Fitzroy, you have two virus children of your own!”

  His eyes narrowed as he glared at her.

  “The future can take care of itself, Kara. As a father, my concern is keeping my kids safe from the dangers out there! Maybe one day they will be the ones who wipe out the hordes. That's years away! No one knows what the future holds. Don't get bitten again. I won't save you next time!”

  He began to wash out the wound with salt water and she tensed, giving a whimper of pain as the salt burned deeply. She was tearful now and said nothing, so he said no more as he cleaned the wound and prepared to fix the deliberately inflicted damage caused by her own stupidity.

  Christian was in his office with the door closed. He thought briefly about Kara, the woman who wanted a virus child. If only he had been bite virus positive like Greg – he certainly would have been happy to help... He smiled as wondered if Greg was perhaps doing more than treating her wound but then he shook his head, giving a chuckle as he thought of Doc Fitzroy, devoted to Cleo and the kids... No, he wouldn't oblige Kara. Then his smile faded. He rather liked her, he had noticed her a few months after settling here in Circus but she had been very intent of keeping focus on her job – he guessed the barriers becoming more secure and stretching out further would mean a better town for all in the future, including this virus child she longed for.

  “If only I could help,” he said thoughtfully, then he turned his attention back to the computer screen as he opened up a secret, protected file named Phoenix Arisen Project.

  At the time he had named it, the whole idea had seemed as grand and impossible as the ambitious title – to find a vaccine against the virus, or to reverse its effects in the recently deceased. What he had found, had been unexpected...

  A supply run team had gone out much further than usual, out into the wilderness, far from the towns and cities where hordes roamed in large numbers. They had found a medical research base. It was abandoned, left unlocked and going by the sight of the bones and mummified remains of those not able to get out in time, it seemed the place had been empty since the dead had taken over. They had brought something back and given it to John, who had called a secret meeting with him, presenting him with a set of computer discs and a sealed container marked radioactive content.

  They had spent several days running through the records, which showed evidence of how close the research team had come to defeating the virus before the base had been over run. The contents of the securely sealed container was a serum, untested. The contents had been charged with radioactive matter but was rendered inactive until passed into the blood stream. The plan was to destroy the virus, reversing the effect of it in those who could still be saved. The window of time seemed to be dependant on the condition of the undead subject. A well fed creature whose flesh was reasonably intact – including internal organs – stood a better chance that one whose decay had become far gone. The hope seemed to be real, a possible way of saving those who could still be saved - if this serum worked, if it could be distributed, it would certainly restore human life to a portion of the undead population.

  He had tested it on Flint.

  It had bloody worked, too.

  Now Harvey Flint was transforming, his flesh healing, daily taking on a colour shifting from grey to white to a glimmer of warmth in a living shade as his blood began to cleanse itself of the virus. Flint was in a drug induced coma. He didn't want to risk waking him yet – so far, the results had showed physical improvement but if he was still there, if his mind was intact, that was another matter entirely.

  John Mundy had told him to keep this secret, and to work on the remainder of the serum to try and identify the contents so that it could be replicated. He had said, no substance would be impossible to find, he would send out search teams, do what ever was necessary – they would make this serum, they would do all they could to reduce the zombie population and hopefully bring people back to the world of the living. It was a huge secret. It had to stay that way...Actually, it had to stay that way for far longer than John realised...

  As he considered his greatest success – the ongoing revival of Flint, whose body was slowly reversing the effect of the virus, Christian broke into a sweat as tension stiffened his body and worry reflected in his eyes. He still had enough of the serum to work with, enough to try and identify the contents. But he had made a huge mistake:

  It was only after he had administered the shot that he had realised later, much later while studying the last of the notes on the project, that he had made a grave error. The serum was not meant to fill a large, single injection. It was supposed to be vastly diluted and then slowly fed through a twelve hour drip feed into a subject's body. He had given Harvey Flint too much of the serum, the contents of that container had been enough to treat a horde of hundreds...

  He shut down the program and as the screen went dark, that error weighed like rocks slowly piling on to him as he wondered if the previously untested serum would have worked at the original planned dosage. He would never know because he had screwed it up, in his haste to reach for his dream and beat the virus, he had not read everything before shooting Flint full of the serum. He didn't doubt
that eventually, if he ever identified all the contents of the remainder of the serum, once news got out, he would be hailed as a hero. Christian was getting the feeling that they would all be wrong about that.

  He had brought back Harvey Flint, the most hated man in town, the crazy man who used to run this town was back from the dead. And he had over dosed him on something meant to treat hundreds of zombies, he had given him more than eighty percent of the serum...

  “I'm no hero,” he whispered as his face reflected back at him through the darkened screen, “I've screwed up... somewhere along the way, there's going to be hell to pay for this. I'm to blame. I've made a huge mistake...”

  Chapter 2: Zombie from the Deep

  In the front garden of the big house that overlooked the sea, Zodiac yelled as he ran up the path, leapt on to the brick wall, ran across it and then jumped to the wall of the house next door, leapt over the gate, ran up the other end then the white haired child turned back, running along the wall again before leaping back into the garden. His baby sister was sitting up in her pram, laughing and clapping as she watched him play. Zodiac yelled again, charging at the wall as he took another leap.

  Cleo came outside, a glass of juice in her hand as she stood there pausing to admire the clear skies and morning sunshine as she stood there in a silken dressing gown. Zodiac was getting louder as he jumped the neighbour's wall again, then came running back.

  “Keep the noise down!” she said firmly. He jumped back into the garden, landing like a cat on the grass, then he got up, looking to his step mother with curiosity in his translucent eyes.

  “Why?”

  As he went over to her, she handed him the juice.

  “Because the people next door don't like it.”

  Zodiac sipped the juice and paused for thought as the sea breeze ruffled his white hair.

  “Dad says Fred and Mona Allbright should be called Allshite. He also says they are ignorant snobs with sticks up their backsides. He told me he's never seen a bigger pair of morons in the whole of his life!”

  Cleo looked away as she smiled, thinking of uptight, hostile Fred and Mona, who looked down on their family and treated them like they didn't belong in this street.

  “And your Dad is right,” she said, no longer disguising her amusement as she looked down at Zodiac, “They're a bit crazy. They still behave like the apocalypse never happened. But please, don't jump on their wall again, not while they can see you.”

  “Can I do it when they're out?” he asked.

  “Of course you can!” she said, laughing softly.

  Just then the door to the neighbouring house opened up. Fred came out carrying a brief case, his fair hair was slicked back and he looked like he was about to catch a train into the city for the day. He was actually off to the community centre, where he now worked coordinating plans for local functions.

  “This is so crazy,” Cleo muttered, watching as Mona kissed him goodbye and then he got into a car not fortified against zombie attack, because everything in their small world had to stay as it had been pre apocalypse, then she watched him drive away.

  Cleo had gone over to Lula's pram, checked the child was still in the shade and comfortable, then handed her a bottle of milk. She smiled and grabbed it and started to drink. Zodiac had calmed now he had the orange juice and was heading around the path that led to the back garden, he always liked to drink cold drinks out there on the patio.

  “Excuse me...”

  Cleo gave a heavy sigh and turned around to see Mona standing by the fence. Her dark hair was tied back in a ponytail and she wore a light floral summer dress. She had that look on her face again, a complaint was coming. For a couple in their thirties, her neighbours were complaining like bitter old folk over petty things, and it was always about the kids...

  “I realise your children are not in school in the end of term holidays, of course,” said Mona, “but they are so noisy... especially the boy.”

  “His name, as you know, is Zodiac,” said Cleo as she looked at her coldly and wondered what it would be like to slam a fist into her face, Oh, it would be glorious to find out...

  “Just keep your virus kids under control,” Mona added, “Even the baby laughs loudly. They're so hyperactive.”

  “They're just being kids,” Cleo replied, toying with the idea of grabbing Mona's ponytail and yanking it hard to see if she would scream as loudly as she hoped.

  “Well, they need to be quiet kids,” Mona replied, then she went back into the house and closed the front door.

  Cleo was glaring towards her house now.

  “Bitch...” she muttered under her breath, then she turned back to the pram, and took it around the side of the house so Lula could join her brother in the back garden.

  While Cleo was home by herself with the kids and suffering the remarks made by Mona, Vicki had gone into town and picked up eggs and bread and milk. Payment was made by a credit system, everyone got points according to what they did within the community, with those unable to contribute much getting a minimum that was enough to get by, no one went without here. Vicki wanted to work, but Marc had said no, and so had Christian. Greg had said yes, then the three men had argued as Greg had said a job might do her good. Marc had reminded him she was better off on her meds and leading a quiet life. She had left the room, leaving them to quarrel, knowing nothing she would say would be taken into consideration.

  Since arriving here in the early days, she had taken a couple of beach patrols, then Marc had said he preferred her not be doing that. He wanted her to stay away from any possibility of ever laying eyes on the undead again. She had volunteered at the local school but they had plenty of volunteers, so she got two days out of it and that was all.

  She had enough to get by, but she still wished she could be more useful. She had been to see John, who had looked at her kindly as said, Marc had told him all about what she had been through. While he acknowledged that everyone had suffered one way or another in these tough times, he also knew that some had been so deeply affected by it their lives would never be the same again.

  “We just want you to stay well, Vicki,” he had said, “I'm sure in time if you stay well enough, something will come up for you. Until then, just enjoy the peace and quiet. This town is safe at last, that's something worth enjoying.”

  Now Vicki was on her way to the medical centre because she had an appointment with Greg. She didn't want to wait for the few buses that were now running because the waiting time was lengthy, so she walked there, carrying the shopping and enjoying the warm sunshine.

  She reached the medical centre and very few patients were in the waiting room. She gave her name to the woman who worked on reception and took a seat. Fifteen minutes later she was told Doc Fitzroy was ready to see her, and she got up and walked off down the corridor, heading for his office.

  “Hello Vicki!” Greg said warmly as she entered the room and took a seat beside his desk.

  “You're looking well,” he added, smiling at the sight of his ex girlfriend. Vicki's hair was in a short blonde bob, with no signs of patches or hair pulling. Her skin looked flushed from the heat but she looked good, and that made him happy to know her relationship with Marc was doing such wonders for her.

  “Greg, you know I'm okay, me and Marc share a house with you! Why do I have to come in to do this, you see me every day!”

  Greg was accessing her records open the computer screen.

  “Because we have to do things properly,” Greg replied, “But we can certainly cut down the appointment time... yes, you're doing well as far as I'm concerned.”

  “And I'm feeling okay, no hallucinations, no anxiety, no scary flashbacks...Greg, I want to work in this town, I want to be useful like everyone else!”

  Greg had just re issued her meds. He turned from the screen and met her gaze.

  “Vicki, I'm of the same opinion as Marc and Christian regarding the fact that you need a restful, quiet life. You're stable, you're doing well and we
want you to carry on that way. But, I do think maybe a part time job might be a good idea. Not just yet, in a few months time.”

  Surprise registered in her eyes. If there was a chance she could actually get out there and do something, waiting a few months was a small price to pay...

  “Doing what?”

  “As you probably know, the town is getting a basic telephone exchange soon. As soon as it's up and running, at first only public buildings will have phones. Then we're going to add public phone boxes to the exchange and one day, eventually, phones – landlines – will be available for homes, too. But it's a long process. It's going to be done in a very old fashioned way because that's all we can manage between us in this town – all calls go through to the exchange and the operator will pass them on to the relevant line. They're going to need operators when the exchange is built. Do you think you could handle maybe two days a week there and see how it goes?”

  As she smiled, so did Greg.

  “I can do that, yes!” she said.

  “Okay, I'll have a word with Marc and Christian. They can't object to this because it's a few months away at least and your hours will be very short to start with, I'll write you a recommendation when the time comes – on the understanding you work no more than two days a week, four hours a day.”

  She was still smiling.

  “Thank you Greg!” she said warmly, and as they both stood up, she leaned over the table and hugged him. It felt pleasant but odd to be getting a hug from Vicki after their break up so long ago. Greg handed her the prescription.

  “You go and enjoy the rest of the day,” he added, “And don't mention the job to Marc. I'll handle that later.”