Pathogen: Ch. 16

This was bad. This was very, very, very bad. Alarms screamed all around Marnie as she barreled down the hall, racing for the elevator as fast as her high heels could carry her. General Hackett or one of his scientists must have flipped a switch, because the lights went out around her within a second of her taking off. All she had to see by were the hazard lights, slowly flashing red to the tempo of the alarm.

How the hell had she gotten herself into this mess?

She skidded to a stop once she reached the elevator, hammering the call button with all her might. When it refused to open, she punched the panel in frustration, muttering a string of oaths that would have her grounded in a heartbeat if her mother was there to hear them. Glancing around in a panic for any kind of exit, Marnie spied an emergency stairwell to the right. She made a beeline toward it without hesitation, kicking out of her shoes before throwing the door open.

That's when she heard a very loud crash behind her, followed by a ferocious snarl.

Turning automatically to look, Marnie's heart shot into her mouth at what was charging right for her: the zombified cadet, scrambling on all fours like a rabid dog. With a terrified scream, Marnie zipped into the stairwell and slammed the door shut behind her, mere seconds before the cadet ran into it face first. He fell back stunned, shaking his head, which gave Marnie enough time to thread a broom from the nearby janitor's closet through the handle. The zombie banged on and scratched at the door with all his might, earning another shriek from Marnie. For now, it looked like her makeshift barricade was going to hold. Still, Marnie knew better than to stick around and wait to be sure.

With a high heel in each hand and a fresh rip up the side of her pencil skirt for better mobility, Marnie raced up the stairs two at a time. Trying to put the maximum distance between her and the Alpha Lab as quickly as she could. She ran faster than she ever thought possible, spurred on by pure adrenaline and the inevitable threat of the zombie snapping at her heels. Running had never been her strong suit, to be honest. If her P.E. teacher saw her now, though, he would weep with joy and beg her on bended knee to join Thomas Jefferson High's track team. If she was ever allowed to go back to TJH after this - or any public high school for that matter - she just might consider it.

Marnie knew without a doubt that she was in deep shit here. They had seen her face. It would only be a matter of time before they checked the lab's access logs and connected the dots, putting a name to that face. Her mom's career would be ruined, and Marnie herself would most likely be living out the rest of her teens, twenties, and most of her thirties in a federal pen. If the man-eating zombie didn't catch her and tear her to shreds before then, of course. Those panicked thoughts made her arms and legs pump faster, long before she heard the door break open far below.

Pausing for just a second to catch her breath, Marnie checked the sign by the door she flew past. Subbasement One; that meant she was almost to the surface. Almost to safety. She put on an extra burst of speed at that comforting notion, wincing as the rip in her skirt grew a few more inches from how hard her aching, trembling legs propelled her up the subterranean staircase. Marnie had a good head start on the zombie, but it still might not be good enough. She'd witnessed first hand how fast Zombie Trevor could move; it stood to reason that the zombified cadet - a young man who was trained by the U.S. Army for endurance, strength, and speed as well as combat - would be just as fast, if not faster than the undead, all-star teen athlete. And twice as dangerous.

With her lungs on fire and her heart fit to jump right through her gasping jaws, Marnie zoomed past the door labeled "Basement", determined not to stop until she was above ground. Below her, the zombified cadet crashed, banged, and clawed his way up the concrete stairwell - hot on her heels. When she risked a breathless glance over her shoulder, Marnie let out a frightened squeak automatically: the zombie was within sight, maybe fifty feet behind her, and closing in fast. Her blood ran cold and her heart was on the brink of exploding behind her ribs at the sight of him.

There was nothing left in his filmy, sunken eyes; no spark of humanity, or compassion, or even the smallest glimpse of a soul. This man... this thing... wasn't like Trevor at all. It was an animal; a monster. A biological weapon, designed to kill everything that moved without conscience. Without mercy. General Hackett must have been criminally insane, to ever sign off on such a horrifying project.

Not a second too soon, Marnie reached the door labeled "F1". With the last dregs of her strength, she dove for that door the instant she saw it. Not caring if it was locked or not. She would have broken it down if she had to, but luckily it didn't come to that. A moment later, she landed in the hall beyond it, sprawled across the polished concrete floor in a sweaty, shaky, wheezing heap. While she still had her wits about her, Marnie scanned her immediate area - looking for something to bar the door. Her eyes fell on a firehose within a second, locked securely on its spool behind a shiny red metal and glass case. Operating fully on instinct, Marnie shattered the "In Case of Emergency" glass with her left shoe - it was definitely an emergency - and yanked a length of the heavy canvas hose free. She hardly had time to shut the stairwell door and knot the firehose through the handle before the zombie cadet smacked into it.

Marnie risked a shuddering exhale of relief as it snarled and threw itself against the sturdy steel panel, but she didn't have time to relax long. A second later, a firm hand clapped onto her shoulder, making her wheel around with a terrified scream. Without even looking or thinking, she slammed her knee into her attacker's groin, putting all her weight behind the blow. He hit the floor a second later - whimpering like a wounded puppy - only after which she recognized his face.

"J-Julian," she panted, "Oh, God, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?!"

The lanky Latino didn't answer right away. Clearly he was too busy trying to breathe, and honestly Marnie couldn't blame him. "I've... b-been better," he eventually grunted, his voice half an octave higher than normal. "Geez, Pistol... y-you're stronger... th-than you look!" Once most of his crippling pain seemed to ebb, Julian's dark eyes scanned Marnie from head to bare toes, widening in shock. "Y-You look like hell," he wheezed, "What happened? And... wh-what's with all the sirens and flashing lights?!"

Marnie ran a trembling hand through her frizzy red curls, only now noticing that it had come free of the extremely tight bun Bianca had tied it in. Her chest ached with a new pain, fit to burst from the terrified sob she was trying to hold in with all her might. As much as it hurt, she refused to cry. Not now. Not in front of Julian.

"I'm... I'm okay," she lied, offering Julian a hand up, "W-We gotta go! Now! Please, tell me you can walk!"

Julian opened his mouth - probably to ask one of the dozens of questions swirling around his head - but all that came out was another high-pitched squeak when the zombie cadet slammed against the stairwell door again. It took all of two seconds for Julian to understand Marnie's need for urgency, after which he accepted her hand up.

"C-Come in, Mama Bird," he shouted as they ran, one hand cradling his bruised balls and the other pressing the earbud deeper into his right ear. "Papa Condor and Baby Eagle en route, and we're coming in hot! The bacon is sizzling! Repeat: the bacon is sizzling!"

"Ugh, Julian your codes make no sense!" Bianca's irritated voice echoed from the earbud, "and stop shouting! Just tell me what's going on... in English, please!"

With a frustrated snarl, Marnie yanked the earbud out of Julian's ear and popped it in her own. "Just start the car," she hissed, "we've been made... the whole place is lit up like Times' Square on New Years' Eve!"

"What?!" Bianca squawked, her voice so loud it nearly ruptured Marnie's eardrum, "What about the antidote?! Tell me you got it at least!"

"Not exactly," Marnie growled, looking over her shoulder at a loud crash echoing behind her from the other end of the building. Maybe that hose wasn't as sturdy as she thought. "We'll talk about it later, okay?! For now, just worry about getting us the hell out of here!"

She threw the earbud back at Julian, too angry and scared to care if he caught it or not. The two of them burst through the building's double doors a minute later, all but falling into the dirt outside. They didn't have time to catch their breath, though, because the zombie was already scrambling down the hall at their backs, headed right for them like a heat-seeking missile. Julian slammed the doors shut, swearing loudly in Spanish when the cadet smacked into them half a second later. While he braced the doors with his back, Marnie snatched Julian's belt off, securing the leather strap around both door pulls. This time, she made sure her knots would hold before yanking Julian away from the building.

Their race to the gates of the army base was not one Marnie wanted to relive anytime soon. Flood lights illuminated the entire complex the moment they stepped onto the grass, making it almost impossible to hide. Julian zigged and zagged across the grounds - pulling Marnie along with him - trying to stay as close to the hedges surrounding the buildings and out of sight as much as he could. The gates were already closing while the pair raced toward them, flanked by half a dozen heavily-armored soldiers wielding assault rifles. More soldiers were in hot pursuit, shouting at Marnie and Julian to stop.

Stopping never really became an option, though, because they were never given the chance.

Marnie screamed and ducked, covering her ears automatically, when the first volley of shots rang out. She'd never been so terrified in all her life, wishing with every ounce of her being that this was just a nightmare. All she had to do was wake up, and she'd be back at home: safe and snug in her bed. Why couldn't she wake up?

Without warning, a horrific scream echoed across the complex, forcing the bullets to stop flying for a breathless second. Marnie looked back automatically, and her heart stopped beating for a moment: the zombie cadet had gotten out of the building. It must have busted through a window, based on all the glass stuck in its face and arms... and it was eating one of its fellow soldiers.

The zombified cadet couldn't tell friend from foe. Marnie would bet a year's allowance that General Hackett hadn't considered that potential snag when he cooked up his batshit Lazarus Program.

In a heartbeat, the gunfire shifted its concentration from the two fleeing teens to the flesh-eating monster, as it was clearly the bigger threat. No matter how many bullets the other soldiers used, however, their zombified comrade never even flinched. It just soaked them all up like a sponge, barely even batting an eye, before lunging teeth first at another random solider. Marnie wished she could do something to help them; they were only doing their jobs after all, and trying to defend their country. No one deserved to meet their end in such a gruesome, painful way. Before she had the chance to try - not sure there was anything she could do at all - Julian pulled Marnie through the gates while they were still open a crack. Bianca's SUV zoomed up to the curb to meet them that same minute.

As both gasping teens fell into the floorboards of the SUV, Marnie risked one last glance at the military base. The whole complex was stirred up in a hurricane of frantic activity; one half trying to subdue the zombie cadet, and the other half either dead or screaming in pain from missing limbs and/or the huge chunks of flesh torn from their bodies. The cold night air was ripe with the sharp odors of gunpowder and blood, while the shrieking alarms continued to mix and mingle with the panicked shouts of the soldiers. And beneath all the other noise, the zombie cadet continued to roar and rage and snarl.

It was too much. It was just too damn much.

Julian closed the SUV's door while it was speeding away from the military base, almost getting thrown out of it in the process. "¡Ay! Watch those turns!" he warned, gripping the 'oh shit' handle above his head and Marnie. Marnie was so out of it from shock - still not believing they'd survived that bloodbath - she didn't even realize he was holding her against his chest.

"Damn... that was-... I don't even know, but it sucked balls!" Julian huffed, letting go of the handle to stroke Marnie's hair gently. "Are you okay?"

Marnie blinked up at Julian, not sure she even heard his question. Instead of answering verbally, she just shook her head. It was the only thing she could do, because she was afraid she'd scream or barf if she tried to open her mouth. Even though she'd tried her damnedest before, she just couldn't help it now. Tears started rolling down her cheeks without Marnie having any say in it. Before she knew it, she was sobbing like a little kid into Julian's chest.

"Hey... it's okay," Julian murmured, holding her even tighter, "I got you. You're okay. You're okay."

Marnie hurried to get a grip on herself, deeply ashamed by her emotional outburst. When her sobs quieted to sniffly hiccups, Julian helped her into one of the captain's chairs in the back seat and buckled her in. That's when Marnie noticed how badly he was shaking.

"Jules... are you hurt?" Marnie asked, her voice so thin, ragged, and high-pitched from crying that she hardly recognized it.

"Who, me? I'm fine," Julian panted, managing a weak grin, "I could use a little ice though, but-"

His sentence was cut short abruptly by Zombie Trevor, crawling over the third row and out of the trunk. He zeroed right in on Marnie, snarling and grunting and tugging urgently on her borrowed uniform blouse. Marnie tried to calm him down, thinking her crying had upset him, until she saw the panic in his filmy eyes.

"Mah-nee... hurt," the zombie garbled.

"Down, Trevvie!" Julian groaned, grabbing a beef stick from the center console. A second later, though, his eyes widened with horror, "Oh, shit: he's right! Pistol, you're hit!"

Marnie looked down right away, shocked by the amount of blood staining the right side of her shirt. She wasn't in any pain, though. Maybe the adrenaline hadn't quite worn off yet. Automatically, she untucked her blouse and checked the skin underneath, bracing for whatever she might find. Bizarrely, there wasn't any wound beneath the bloodstain. Not even a bruise. Upon closer examination, Marnie discovered that there wasn't a hole in her shirt either, which there should have been if she'd gotten shot. It didn't take long to put two and two together.

"I don't think this is my blood," Marnie realized.

Julian looked at her weird - clearly confused - until he happened to look down at himself. The left side of his once camouflage fatigue jacket glistened with moisture, looking solid black in the darkness. He reached up and turned on the dome light overhead, bringing the severity of the situation into full view when he pulled back his jacket. There was no doubt that the blood was his, all dribbling out from a small hole in his shirt right above his left hip. For a moment, Julian didn't seem to be fully aware of what he was seeing. Within a minute, however, his naturally tanned face turned pale.

"Oh," he mumbled woozily, "...shit."