Chapter XIV

CHAPTER XIV
The Infected

With Quentin Forsythe now a distant memory, Judas would be able to take over the colony, and assume all the necessary tasks in order to complete the antidotes’ transformation. The infected colonists would have to come to him for the remedy, for he would hold all the power, all the control, all the marbles.
Back inside the colony, the Reverend was making his presence known. With the assistance of Alethea and Katy, his mission to round up the last remaining healthy colonists became the primary objective. Maddock certainly didn’t want the healthy to succumb to this devil’s disease.
Maddock defied the odds and walked over to the medical tent and entered inside, with Alethea and Katy right behind him.
“I need to see if we can salvage anyone in here.” Maddock gritted his teeth together. “I must save those I can in the name of the Lord.”
The medical tent was the only structure still standing from Dantu’s rampage. The irrigation system was destroyed, along with the crops and Maddock’s church. Buried deep within the makeshift tent, numerous infected bodies lay strewn about the dirty floor, encapsulated in a pain so unbearable, that death was a welcomed friend. Other decaying bodies sat huddled in a far off a corner, trying to regain their shattered lives. They rocked back and forth, their internal organs rapidly liquefying, essentially killing them from within.
The colony’s disease had spread like a wildfire, infecting more than 50 percent of the inhabitants with the deadly combination of Leprosy and Ebola. The effects were instantaneous, and the cure would have to be found quickly.
A crumpled man clawed upon the Earth with his curled fingers and ragged fingernails. His body violently convulsed as he tried to crawl his way outside the tent. His eyes were buried deep within their own sockets, his skin was yellow and peeling, and specks of blood trickled from his nostrils, a sure sign that the Ebola side of the virus had already administered her fatal dose. Through incessant coughing, the man hacked up a wad of blood from his mouth, sending a faint spray into the air.
“Cover your mouth and nostrils!” Maddock caught sight of the man’s condition. “I fret this virus could be airborne.” Ally and Katy followed suit and shielded their faces from the disease.
Maddock cautiously walked by the man, but not before the man’s mangled hand clasped onto Maddock’s ankles, scratching away at the Reverends skin.
Maddock let off a vicious kick to the man’s face, sending the infected soul rolling across the floor. A small speck of blood surfaced where the claw marks were. Maddock spun wildly around to find another victim behind him, ready to strike.
“Hhmmmm.” The woman’s words were an incoherent mess, as the Leprosy had totally wiped out her gift of speech. She lunged dramatically at the Reverend, pushing him to the ground. Her frail body landed on top of his. Her lost eyes fixated their deep stare into his, almost begging for mercy. But, within an instant her body also began to convulse, ready to spew about another bloody cloud.
Maddock felt a sudden jerk, as his attacker was knocked off his body with a thunderous gunshot from behind. Behind the fallen victim was Alethea, tightly holding a smoking, silver pistol.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“It’s too late,” Maddock softly replied. “All of us are infected.”
“I fear that as well,” Alethea noticed another round of victims approaching the trio.
Katy scrambled for a defensive weapon of her own, as two infected men sauntered her way. Their limbs were dangling from their sides, swinging wildly about. The Leprosy had affected their feet, curling their toes and curving their feet. They walked with a deliberate, slow shuffle. Their incoherent moans were chiding at Katy’s ears, like fingernails trailing down a chalkboard. “Maddock, Alethea!” Katy bellowed to her friends.
Maddock and Ally had their own situation at hand. The colonists had sealed off the entrance, trapping them inside the tent. Ally still had the gun, whilst Maddock also needed to find a mechanism for his defense.
Hope had started to fade from the Reverend’s positive outlook. Without the remedy, there was no telling how much longer they could survive, especially with the virus in full flux. It had obviously taken over the colonists, rendering them into walking zombies of sorts. Their inability to speak and move led Maddock to believe that killing the infected would be the only viable option. The antidote would be to far removed once they had reached this critical state.
Katy frantically searched around for a possible weapon. The back of her ass had bumped into a table. Wildly spinning around, she uprooted the table and used as a makeshift shield against her oncoming attackers.
The two men eventually approached Katy, bumping into the table. Katy used all of her force and knocked them down, landing directly on top of them. Their legs kicked wildly, as Katy repeatedly bashed in their heads using the weight of the table. Several stains of red flew about, as Katy finished off the infected men.
Slowly standing up, Katy backed her body into someone, or something. Her thoughts raced of Maddock, Ally, or even Judas would comfort her at this point. Katy turned cautiously around, her fists balled into instruments of defense, ready to attack who was behind her.
*****
Judas’s slow journey through the cave had finally paid off. His long trek had brought him into the river’s rapid current. Judas figured he could swim out to safety, and head back to the colony. He tucked the treasured journal into the backpack to prevent water damage, and waded with a careful step into the water. He could almost taste his freedom.
The cool liquid offered a refreshing feeling against Judas’s weary body. He slowly moved along the rocky floor of the river, not fully aware of when the depth would take a dramatic change.
His mind rattled off several aspects of his master plan for saving the colony. Judas would plan to secure his place amongst the greatest doctors of all time. His driven desire to replace Quentin as the foremost thinker in medicine, fueled his delirious passion for rescuing the colonists.
****
They swarm. They are slick, mesmerizing soulless entities filled with corrupt thoughts and a sickly disease. They were once a proud, hard-working, strong-willed colony. In the few agonizing months that had elapsed, they were reduced to quivering, shattered remnants of what used to be able-bodied citizens. They were now suffering from broken minds, ravaged bodies, and souls that became drowned in a mire of hopelessness and confusion.
They were transformed into the walking dead, zombies of some sort. But, this wasn’t some movie script gone awry. This was a real virus that had taken control with an iron first and smashed their will and determination to live into pieces. The colonists were beyond saving. Their bodies were rapidly decaying the point, where the accelerated Leprosy/Ebola virus would take over in a day or two, and the Ebola faction would wipe them out shortly thereafter. They were encased into a mindless trance, the virus feasting upon their healthy minds, seducing them into an oblivion beyond comparison.
Reverend Maddock, Alethea, and Katy were trapped inside the medical tent, with another round of swarming colonists ready to attack from outside.
A tall man, with dangling arms and twisted fingers lurched at Katy, and violently clawed at her bare neck, dragging his gnarled fingernails down the right side of her face.
“Get off her,” Alethea barked at Katy’s attacker, who stood a few feet away. Ally fired off another round from the pistol. The shot burrowed into the side of the man’s yellowish face. The impact caused a sharp jerk that abruptly brought Katy’s attacker hurtling toward the ground, stopping him literally in his tracks.
“Thank you,” Katy whispered. “I owe you one.” Her breathing was tenuous and her limp body needed a rest.
Maddock’s watchful eyes followed the eerie shadows that were congregating along the peripherals of the tent. The disfigured, delirious throng slowly assembled outside, seemingly patient to make their next move.
“We have to find a way out of here.” Maddock searched about the confines. He cautiously stepped over the two dead bodies that Katy had killed moments earlier. “How many bullets do you have left?” Maddock directed his question at Alethea.
“I have four,” said a confident Alethea.
“They are past the point of saving,” Katy added.
“I agree.” Maddock began to relentlessly pace back and forth trying to induce some sort of logical scenario where the trio could escape. “I will speak of prayer for their lost souls,” Maddock responded as sweat started to congeal above his thick black eyebrows, soaking the Reverend in a sheet of frustration.
Their bodies slowly approached the facility, their mangled fingers penetrating through the screened windows, trying to enter. Their yellow faces were beaded with streaks of sweat, rashes, and streaks of dried blood. Their sunken eyes rolled around within the swollen sockets, as the shuffling continued along the perimeter of the medical gazebo.
“Katy, these bodies upon the other tables are dead?” Maddock looked down upon the frail bodies with a sorrowful glance.
“They are engaged in a battle for their lives,” Katy addressed the situation. “The virus has sent their brains into a spiraling comatose state, where they might never wake up from.”
“Let us pray to the good Lord, for his spirit, his guidance, and his love.” Maddock reached his arms towards the sky and welcomed God’s showering of strength. “Forgive us for killing those infected with Lucifer’s disease my good Father. I have sinned in that regard.” Maddock lowered his head and witnessed the incoming horde of infected colonists.
*****
Judas continued along the river, sloshing through the water. His addiction to find the missing page from Quentin’s journal fueled his desire to escape from the cave. He momentarily paused to splash a cool wave of water over his face and quench his scorching thirst. Upon rising back up, he had this uncanny feeling that someone was following him. Judas frequently spun around, only to find nothing but the quirky calmness of the cave’s dark atmosphere.
The river’s destination would lead Judas back into the sun-drenched jungle. From there, he would be able to find his way back to the colony. Judas frantically slapped, scratched and smacked his neck, leaving a stinging red sensation. The malaria infected mosquitoes had already begun feasting upon Judas’s skin, injecting their poison into his bloodstream. Opening his clenched hands, Judas smiled down upon the crushed bugs, as he flicked them off into the distance and continued along his trek, unknowingly infected with the deadly contagion.
*****
One by one, they continued to enter through the tent’s various openings. Some entered through the back, while other colonists sauntered in from the front. Even a few had managed to claw and rip apart the screened window and lurched their limbs inside, clawing and scratching their way into the room.
“They are beyond saving.” Maddock spun his head around as he surveyed the area. “It seems like they’ve regressed into rampaging animals.” Maddock braced himself for a fight.
“Quentin and I studied a few cases and found out that the virus attacks the muscles, brain and nervous system. It has the early stages of Leprosy, until the Ebola part overpowers and accelerates the effects of Leprosy. I fear with the loss of brain function, the Leprosy and the Ebola wreaking havoc within their bodies, this is the end result.” Alethea took her position in the center of the tent, armed with her pistol.
“Well, I agree with that philosophy,” Katy added as she took refuge by Ally’s side. “They are definitely past saving, but there are still colonists that have a chance.”
“Yeah, if we can get out of here alive.” Maddock kissed his golden cross and clenched his fists. “Then, perhaps we can administer the cure once Judas comes back with Forsythe.”
The colonists had successfully infiltrated and the combine and had Maddock, Katy, and Alethea completely surrounded. The trio was easily outnumbered. It would calculate to almost ten colonists for each of them to fight, with more potentially on the way.
“I picked the wrong day to come back to the colony.” Maddock heroically planned to withstand his oncoming attackers.
“We’re doomed with only four bullets,” Katy replied, shifting her head in Ally’s direction.
“Then, I shall shoot accordingly.” Ally let off a brief smile, as she raised her weapon.
*****
Judas felt feverish and his muscles burned with pain. He wasn’t akin to this sort of environment. He was more suited for the good old United States and her hospitals. His hearing picked up on faint voices, and footsteps that had seemed to reappear and disappear at will.
He turned his head around and found nothing behind him yet again. Judas started to feel dizzy and his balance became shaky and distorted. His vision slowly entered blurriness, enhancing the difficulty of his intended escape.
“There he is!” A deep, husky voice bellowed out from behind.
Judas couldn’t locate the man behind the voice. Was his mind playing tricks on him? His headaches had become unbearable now, and Judas needed to find the colony, and fast.
The end of river had brought Judas into the hot, searing jungle, where the raging sun bore down upon the Earth, sizzling the skin of those that were unprotected. Judas lazily stumbled forward and collapsed head first into some brush, laying motionless underneath the African skies.
*****
The rope was rigid and taut. He had cut his hand trying to grasp onto it. He wished he had never taken this trip. He hated the fucking President, and wanting nothing more than to prove him wrong.
John Garrison clipped the silver latch onto his black belt and relentlessly shimmies down the rope and landed harshly upon his ankles.
“You know, as a veteran of special missions, John still has problems with this exercise,” Captain Nathaniel Logan sarcastically addressed the pilot. “We’ll stay in communication with you throughout this mission. Frequency 76.” The pilot nodded as Logan slid his goggles over his face and lowered himself into position. His fingers quickly assembled the latch and belt, and within moments he disappeared into the colony’s waiting arms.
“Are you okay?” Logan asked John who was nursing his bruised ankles.
“Shut up.”
“Really, how’s your ankle?”
“Bruised, like my ego.” John rubbed out the kinks. “I’ll be fine.”
“We need to do an inventory check.” Logan unlatched himself from the rope, tugged it, and watched as the chopper zoomed off into the distance. “The chopper will be back in four days. We have enough ammo, food, and water to last a week here.”
“I suggest we talk to our vacation planner, because I surely don’t see any four-star hotels out here.” John’s tone was flavored with bitter and irritability as he scoured the area. “All I can see are a bunch of fucking trees and plenty of pesky insects.”
“The President wants us to confine this virus. In other words, eradicate it at all costs.”
“All costs? Shit, I should’ve stayed back home.” John grinned.
“You’ll carry the explosives, C-4, plastique,” Logan addressed his friend.
“I won’t dissapont, Captain. I blow that fucking virus into oblivion.” John tapped his backpack, which was stuffed to the brim with all the necessary tools and explosives.
“That’s good to know. I’ll carry the compasses, food, water, and communication equipment. We’re broadcasting on frequency 76.”
“Affirmitive,” John responded. He had always worked well with Logan. They always seemed to work well together and deliver effective results.
“If there any survivors, including this Dr. Forsythe, then we implement Plan A.” Nathaniel brought John up to speed.
“And what’s Plan B?” John braved the obvious question.
“That would include the eradication at all costs, no one leaves the colony under any circumstance.” Logan strapped his backpack firmly to his back and placed the compass directly into the center of his left palm. “We will head north into the jungle, and according to the satellite’s coordinates, this little piece of heaven is five-hundred yards from here.”
“Sounds cozy,” John replied as he brought up Logan’s rear. He adjusted his Glock and stared up towards the blistering sun. “Do you have an extra pair of shades? This sun’s a bitch, just like back in Iraq.”
“Yeah. Go and reach into my pack and get one for yourself. You really need to plan better. Your organizational skills suck.” Logan playfully busted his friend’s balls.
“Yeah, thanks Pops,” John shot back. “I found a pair, thanks.” John slid the pair of black glasses over his eyes and looked up at the sun again. “Ah, much better. Much better.”
*****
The infected colonists shuffled across the room towards Ally and Katy. They dragged their feet behind them in a slow creeping motion. Their mouths were in constant motion, as if they were chewing upon their own tongues. Fingers curled backward, forearms clenched tightly to their chests, these colonists were in the virus’s horrific aftermath.
Several men surrounded Maddock from every angle. There was nothing useful for defense inside the tent. Maddock scoured the area for something. His eye managed to locate several oxygen tanks over in the corner.
“How full are those tanks?” Maddock asked Ally.
“They’re almost drained,” Alethea replied. “Why?”
“Well, you have four bullets, and we need for each one to count.”
“Agreed.” Ally caught on.
“If I can get them over in that direction, then we can eliminate a larger number.” Maddock made a dash for the tanks.
Katy landed a hard kick into the mid-section of her attacker, sending him spiraling backward into the rest, knocking them over like bowling pins. “Hurry up with that plan!” she called out to her friends.
Maddock fought his way through the horde and reached the tanks just in time. Trailing behind, a dozen of the colonists were ready to converge upon their victim. Maddock knocked over the tanks, sending them rolling along the floor, and into the staggering colonists. Maddock was caught off guard from behind and pulled down. The wiry man had Maddock by the ankles, digging his nails into the fresh skin. Maddock writhed about, trying to break free. He repeatedly kicked the man in the face, but to no avail. Maddock even withdrew his knife and jabbed wildly at the man’s arms and chest. Another man, this one very strong, had grabbed Maddock’s arms and started to cough violently. Maddock was trapped and knew that this one-time chance was rapidly escaping. He called out to Ally to fire off the shot. “Ally, now!” Maddock alerted her of the situation.
Alethea unable to save Maddock, and realizing his dire circumstances, fired off the shot directly into the crowd of dying colonists, penetrating the collection of tanks. A loud, thunderous boom rocked the tent, quickly dispersing the swarm. A series of flames licked wildly about in the air, while splintered body parts landed throughout the room.
“Reverend!” Alethea gazed upon the fiery remnants, wondering if Maddock had survived.
“Ally, Maddock died trying to save us.” Katy placed her hand on Ally’s shoulder in comfort. “Is there anything else in here for us to use against them?”
“I’m afraid not. And, without those tanks, we’re going to be unable to save the healthy colonists.”
“If there are any healthy ones left,” Katy surmised.
The two women managed to escape outside the tent as the flames started to engulf the entire room, trapping the colonists inside, burning them alive.
Katy and Ally managed to reach the church nary any significant injuries, as the medical facility burned to the ground. The raging inferno would ultimately consume everything within, effectively containing the virus for now.
*****
Logan and Garrison were still several yards away when they heard the deafening explosion, wondering where exactly it had originated from. Logan alertly tracked the thin billow of smoke in the distance with his sharpened vision, trying to locate the exact position.
“It seems that something has gone horribly awry,” Logan responded with an authoritative feel. “We need to pick up the pace and find out what exactly has happened.”
Garrisons’ body went into hyper-drive, valiantly trying to keep pace with the quickened pace that Logan had established. “Can’t we slow down a bit, Boss? I’m sure they’re in no immediate hurry.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that John.” Logan’s feet were pounding into the dirt as his quick jog, had transformed into a full-scale run. “We need to find out if there are any survivors, and what the actual infected count is,” Logan gripped his Glock and darted straight ahead through the lingering vines and branches.
*****
He was laying in an expansive area, filled with trees, misty skies and a soft muddy terrain. The soil pushed through his fingertips as he tried to regain his lost balance. The left side of his face embedded deeply into the sinking mud, while his legs were split at a weird ninety-degree angle. His neck swollen from the multitude of infectious bites left by the stinging mosquitoes. The stinging numbness started its climb through his spinal cord, and buried itself deep at the base of his dizzying brain. Malaria had already begun its dangerous course inside his head, leaving every thought, image and sense lost in a cloudy atmosphere of confusion and escalating fever.
The jungle seemed to call to his soul. He felt himself losing his tightened grip on reality. His whole world was now spinning out of control, and ironically the only choice of salvation for Judas, was for him to embrace his new tainted reality. This new place which had existed only inside his deep thoughts, where evil had enjoyed the spoils, and good, well, they went home empty handed. Judas would devise a crucial plan of action, simulating what needed to be done. He would not allow any person, place, or thing to stand in his way of becoming the key figure in resurrecting the infected colony.
His lips smacked together with a strong distaste for the brush that collected inside his mouth. Using his hands in a brash move, he quickly filtered out any lingering remnants of the sticky, slimy, leafy substance. Judas wriggled his body through the mud, attempting a way to seize control of the situation again. Upon his sudden movement, he heard a loud synthesis of clicking and grunting. His eyes followed along the seemingly endless line of the battered, dirty boots that had congregated around his fallen body. His head snapped up trying to capture a better view of what the hell was going on, as sheets of mud harmlessly slide off the right side of his face.
“The situation’s under control Commander.” The man firmed up his stance and buried the gun’s nozzle into Judas’s right temple. Judas’s chin was still drenched in the brown matter. He was a filthy excuse for a man right now.
“Excellent,” the voice resonated from behind the wall of soldiers.
Judas didn’t recognize the accent, nor the man. His mind was walking around in complete darkness on what this man was actually seeking.
“Does he have the old man with him?” The Commander asked wit h a snarl.
“I don’t see him,” the soldier responded as j=he surveyed the area around Judas.
“What’s your name?” The Commander asked with haste.
“Dr. Judas Sturgis.”
“Where’s Quincy? Or was it Quentin?”
This man knew Quentin? How should Judas play this out? He hadn’t come all this way just to have his balls slapped around by some ingrate.
“Dead,” Judas softly spoke.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I killed him myself,” Judas started to get up.
“Why?”
“He had something I wanted.” Judas looked around.
“The journal.” The Commander’s brilliance was unmatched.
“It’s mine,” Judas declared.
Judas heard a quick snap of the Commander’s fingers. Within in a blitzing second, Judas felt the crack of the gun against his back, forcing him into his knees. On of the soldiers then placed a rifle underneath Judas’s chin to restrain his movement.
From behind the wall of men, the wily Commander fiercely walked up to his newly pinned prisoner.
“Let me illustrate something for you,” he retorted. He motioned for his trolls to toss him the backpack.
“Enlighten me,” Judas grumbled underneath the intense pain. He tried to use his finger to act as a barrier between the hard rifle and his throat, but had no leverage in the matter. Judas winced and coughed underneath the strain to breathe. Judas had managed to visually take in the man’s disturbing features. He was short and wiry. But, that wasn’t the part that Judas was concerned about. When the Commander turned his face to catch the backpack, the left side was completely scarred, possibly from intense blaze or fire.
The Commander unzipped it quickly and dumped out its contents all over the field.
“You can’t have that.” Judas stared down the Commander. “You will remember my name, son.” He bent down to snatch up the muddy journal.
“Which is?”
“I’m Commander Reese Dantu of the rebel Army. And, just like your friend Quentin, you’ve just made a very costly mistake.”
“How so?” Judas fought hard for breath.
“This journal belongs to me. With Quentin’s hard work, I will sell the antidote to the highest bidder.” He cracked an evil smile.
“Those people need that antidote,” Judas tried to dissuade Dantu’s plan. He knew that the antidote’s page was missing.
“I think you need to focus on the task at hand, Judas.”
Judas felt his brain swell from the intense pressure as he was ruthlessly dragged along the ground.
“This cliff overlooks one of Africa’s mighty rivers. This particular one cuts right through the jungle’s heart.” Dantu offered his tour guide take on the scenery.
“Spare me the National Geographic special,” Judas snapped back, still trying to engulf a full breath.
“When you hit the bottom of that raging river,” Dantu replied with a sly tone. “You’ll feel every bone shatter within your fragile body.” Dantu motioned for his men to throw Judas of the edge of the cliff.
Judas peered down upon the rampaging water below. Thick stumps of trees littered about, as rocks and vines also filtered throughout the dangerous area.
“Any last words, before you plummet to your death?” Dantu asked of his prisoner.