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Infestation 2008, by Spencer Gregoire
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Infestation 2008, Chapter one: Contact
Date: 22 October 2008, 1:56 am
Chapter one: Contact.
S.W.A.T team leader David Gorier sat inside the truck, along with the rest of his team. They were on what would turn out to be the most horrifying mission of their lives. But that bit of information would not occur to him until it was too late.
"So," Gorier finally broke the silence, "any questions?" He had briefed them, but the details were not very clear.
"Yeah," replied one of the newer members, the SWAT helmet masked his expressions, but his tone carried concern with it. "What exactly is causing these disturbances?" The team leader was hoping to avoid that question; it was clear from the reports that they were not facing a common situation. Several 911 calls came, the worried voices poured details into the operators ears. Were it not for the sheer numbers of calls, all concerning the same thing, the matter may have been dropped. Apparently, the citizens were being attacked, and in the background, horrifying, inhuman screams resonated through the line.
"We don't know for sure," the team leader tried to be as vague as possible; he did not want to get his men too worried. Then again, they deserved to know all he did. "We suspect it's some sort of robber, breaking into houses. There was a car sent to investigate. But we lost contact with the officer." Gorier paused and thought to himself, how could one person be causing this? How could those agonizing, inhuman screams be explained? "Personally, I expect multiple people, crazy and dangerous." He considered telling them more, but then decided against it, his point had been made. "Just be ready for anything.
The SWAT truck came to a stop, the five man team got out of the back, then headed to the first house. Grolier peered out over the front yard; the sun was just beginning to come up. The rolling hills and multicolored tree leaves, it was beautiful. The brick laden pathway was damaged; the house had a deeply faded color to it. Several windows were broken. Something caught Grolier's eye, not an object but a motion. Something in the window held its position, and then vanished. They were being watched. His pulse quickened, he wanted to go. Even with his full loaded assault weapon, body armor, and five-man team, he did not like the situation one bit.
"You ok sir?" The voice alerted the Captain that he was standing still; his nervousness was not setting a good example. He scoffed, trying to appear in control, and then continued, his men were not convinced.
"I don't like this Captain," his voice betrayed a wealth of fear, and anxiety. The Captain shared his feelings, but nevertheless they had a job to do.
"We have a job to do, let's clear this house, then report on our findings." After his orders registered they were again on the move. The made it to the door, a faint crash nearly sent Grolier into a panic, but he composed himself. "Ok, Mathews," he motioned towards the man carrying the battering ram. "Break it," Mathews nodded, braced himself, and then smashed the heavy metal pole into the locked door. It flew open. "Tackins, Franzina, Move up. Everyone else get their back, Mathews you bring up the rear." The Team complied, soon they were inside the house, nothing moved. Furniture was strewn all over the place. What the hell happened here?
"Clear," The team moved from the foyer into the kitchen. Grolier peered to his right; an office type room was filled with upturned desks, and couches. Behind Grolier, to the left, was an open room. He guessed it was the living room; there were clear signs of struggle. He nearly turned to run from the house, for everywhere, was the splattering of blood.
"Hey Cap, you hear that?" A soft squishy noise brought their attention to the ceiling but nothing was there, more noises appeared. It sounded like someone was scaling the wall, with very wet and sticky suction cups. But, it could not be a stationary sound. One of the sounds grew louder, and then dissipated, the hairs stood up on his neck. He felt goose bumps; fear and anticipation nearly paralyzed him. These noises exhibited signs of the Doppler Effect, a clear signal that something was on the move. In that moment, he nearly had enough, he felt like he was going to wet himself.
"Where is that coming from?" It was not a noise the Captain had heard before. But something had to be making it, he grew even more nervous.
"All around us sir, second level if I were to guess." The Captain heard something crash, the team turned to the right side of the house. Their flashlights illuminated a target, a target that made Grolier's blood run cold, it was vaguely man shaped, but looked like a completely different species. The center of the creature's chest was swollen, out from the swollen area came several short tentacles. The Head was defiantly of human origin, but it looked infected, the skin seemed to have expanded, and rotted slightly. The head was tilted unnaturally to the side, as if it was no longer needed. From the neck, several small tentacles jutted outwards. One arm was normal, but the other one had a large tentacle protruding out from the wrist, ringed with multiple tooth-like protrusions on the end.
"What the hell is that thing," came a terrified cry from Franzina, there was no way to answer that question. However, that creature was definitely the cause of this disturbance. Before Grolier could respond, the horrifyingly mutated creature ducked behind some cover. Then a rifle clattered to the floor, The team leader turned to discover that Mathews was on the ground, a small spider-like monster, about a half of a meter in diameter, had latched onto his face. They were under attack.
"Stop cussing and shoot something." Franzina would have complied, but he was on the ground to, the mutated human had come back, and he brought another half dozen ex-humans with him. He was down to himself, and two other team members. Grolier aimed his M4 assault carbine at the lead creature. He pulled the trigger; the rounds hit the creature head on, in the upper torso. The resilient creature slowed from the force of the rounds, but did not scream, or yelp. It showed no sign of any pain what so ever. Seemingly unaffected by short burst, the creature let loose an ugly snarl, and quickened its pace towards Grolier. Grolier flipped the fire selector to full auto, and then filled the rapidly closing gap between the two with lead. The ex-human absorbed the rounds like a sponge, and then began to slow. Finally, just as it came to within melee range, it fell to the ground.
It was useless to try to fight all these contacts, there were far too many. Grolier had to warn everybody. He was a dead man, but as much as he would have liked to go down swinging as apposed to waiting behind a locked door for his inevitable demise, he had a duty to tell of what was to come. This enemy was vicious enough, if the masses were not ready, they would not stand a chance. He dove for the nearest door, and then locked himself inside the closet; the creatures were close behind him. They pounded on the other side of the door. Horrifying screams cut deep into his ears, lashing a thrilling sense of fear throughout his mind. He picked up his transmitter with his shaking hands and yelled into it.
"Contacts, lots of them, can anyone hear me, please respond." There was nothing for a moment. Grolier watched through the keyhole. One of his team members, Mathews, got up, tentacles protruded from his wrist, his skin was tinged tan with spots of swollen, rotting flesh; he had become one of them. The sickening reality set in, the small spiders; they infect humans and mutate them. Grolier could see the door starting to give way. "Someone, anyone, respond now!" another few terrifying moments passed, and then a voice came through.
"How can I help you?" The voice was calm, considering how frantic Grolier was coming across.
Melissa was surprised by the man's frantic speech, he spoke again. She recognized him as Captain Grolier
"Contacts…lots of them, they ….not human, I repeat… Not Human. Please, send everyone……. Be advised, they infect….. Humans, they …mutate them." The channel went dead.
"Sir, Captain Grolier, respond, what is going on over there?" There was only static. One thing was clear to Melissa from the report; the situation was far from handled. She composed herself. She got up from her chair, and walked calmly to the commissioner's office. She opened the door, and then, once she knew he was there, Melissa spoke. "Sir, SWAT team alpha made contact." She paused; searching for the right words, then spoke again. "Sir, I think you need to listen to this."
Infestation Chapter 2: Emergence
Date: 31 October 2008, 2:30 am
Chapter 2: Emergence
Police Commissioner Robert Alexton could not quiet believe what he heard. But with calls flooding in, and an entire team of SWAT officers dead, he was becoming increasingly convinced. Much to his dismay, this was far worse then a simple isolated disturbance.
"Call the National Guard; let them know what is going on. If this infection can spread and hit our population, our policemen will not be adequate to stop it." Melissa spun on her heels, and exited his office. He keyed his radio, his words may spark laughter or disbelief, but he had to get his men ready. "All units, mobilize, be ready to fight, the disturbances that have been going on have spread, soon they will strike into the heart of our town." The small town did not have by any means an impressive array of potential defense, aside from the single SWAT team; the station had ten cars, and twenty combat ready officers. But until the National Guard could be mobilized, it was the best he could do.
"Sir," Melissa was back; her previously stoic look had been replaced with sheer terror. "Reports of more attacks, only about a half of a mile out from the town center, it is midday, those streets are very crowded, a lot of people are going to under attack." That was all Robert needed to hear,
"Get everyone to that shopping complex, and begin evacuation as soon as possible."
Taylor Hopkins was an average single man. Despite the reports of growing disturbances near the main shopping center, there was food that needed getting. Personally he didn't feel that the situation was going to escalate, the police would be dispatched, and the problem would be solved. That was all that he needed to know. Taylor did however feel slightly concerned; he scanned the hill, which the shopping mall was at the base of, many times on the way in. He found nothing. On the way out, as he was walking to the car, a small tug in his subconscious caused him to look up at the hill. He released his grip on his cart, and stood dazed in the middle of the street. Dozens of figures were making their way down the hill.
"Hey, Jackass, get out of the road." Taylor turned towards the person who was responsible for the outburst. He stared at him blankly then pointed towards the hill. The man's face paled, "Holy shit, I'm getting the hell outta here he got back into his car. The figures on the hill were close now, they faded from his view, Taylor could not move for a moment, completely paralyzed with fear.
"Everyone, get out of here now!" This sheer terror gripping his voice drew the attention of dozens of people. They paused, and then looked at the figures; a horrible scream came from the column of the previously human monsters. Everyone began to run, but for many, it was too late. Taylor ran towards his car. But was cut off by a pair of cars crashing into one another, He jumped over the hood, and then continued to run. The screams from both monster and human were getting closer, pure fright increased his speed. He rounded the next corner, and was hit by a car, although it was not moving very fast, he was still flipped up onto the hood of the car. By the time he got up again, he had been over taken. The only reason he had not been killed in that instant, was the fact that other people distracted the monsters. He used the distraction to slip away, he had to get to a phone, and call 911. Then he realized the uselessness of the effort. From the corner, like a gift from god, came no less then ten police vehicles.
Sergeant Bill Davis had regretted laughing at the reports, why would we need ten police vehicles, he had said to himself. He wished that fate had chosen not to answer that question. Dozens of mutated looking humans were rampaging through the parking lot, they were spilling into the streets, wrecked cars stopped traffic, and the policemen had to use the grass to drive into the parking lot. Davis exited the car, shot gun in hand. One of the cars was an LRV type vehicle, with a .50 cal fixed onto the top. The gunner was laying down covering fire.
"All units, move vehicles to block all roads out, contain these things to this lot." Davis was the first one in, so all the cars lined up with him, then the officers got out. The position was on the top of a small hill. Some vehicles went to the other mouth into the parking lot. If the officers they could stop theses "things" from overtaking them, they could control this outbreak. The creatures seemed to be a disorganized mob at first, but they became more intelligent as the assimilated more hosts. It seemed as if every one of these things communicates, and the more minds they have; the better they could analyze situations, and learn from mistakes. He witnessed them moving in packs, trapping several civilians at certain choke points, limiting their mobility. Then, other infested contacts swarmed the trapped citizens; the massacre was too painful to watch. Once the civilians were killed, small infectious forms swept in. They turned the dead citizens into one of them. After several minutes, the newly reinforced mob surged towards the police officers, the shooting started in full force.
"Fire at will," Davis needed no further encouragement, he fired his 9mm. into the mob. The combined fire from the LRV and the officers cut down the creatures. The lines receded quickly, then reformed, and charged again. Why don't they commit more to this area? Davis questioned, it looks like they're just trying to hold – Davis stopped in his thoughts, he could not believe that he was about to be out maneuvered by a horde of zombies.
"Contacts, many more of them, on the right side of the complex, we can't hold them." Davis cursed his lack of foresight. The mob in front of them began to leave. These creatures were wisely committing troops to the breakthrough. They were faster then normal humans, and thus, could easily surround the fleeing citizens. I didn't sign up for this shit. Davis was not about to stand by while they were surrounded and slaughtered like all the rest.
"It's hopeless, they are gonna surround us, we have to get out of here."
"Stay where you are, we have a job to do." The Police Captain was not going to convince him to stay, this was useless. Davis hefted the shotgun. He turned and ran. The mob of infected had spread, he was now only one of hundreds, trying to flee death. But the monsters were fast as lightning, and quite literally packed an enormous punch. They could also jump about ten meters, and slowly began to kill most of the citizens.
One of them latched onto his back, he fell the ground, and tried to wrestle the thing off, but it was very strong. The monster battered his chest, and scratched his face. Searing pain cut through his body. Davis was a big man, but this thing was quite clearly in the midst of rage. The police Sergeant tried to gain some momentum and flip this thing onto its back, but it fought hard to stay on top. He managed to roll over, an get the creature on its back, but it simply countered with a hard swift punch into the stomach. Davis flew back about a meter, the shock of the punch left him dazed. He got up to get his shotgun, the creature tackled him. The blow knocked the wind out of him. Blackness faded in, pain, and weariness rendered his movements a desperate assortment of arm flailing. Davis finally managed to get some leverage against a car. He pushed off with his feet, and rammed the creature's head into another car. The first blow did nothing but anger it more. Davis continued to batter the thing against the car. The creature seemed stunned for a moment, which was all Davis needed; he then threw the monster about a meter, away. Davis grabbed his shotgun, and then spun on his heels, he took careful aim. The monster got back to its feet, and sprinted towards the wounded officer. Fighting to calm his shaking hands, and squinting to see through the disorientation, he managed to line the iron sights for a shot. Davis pumped a single round into the creature's stomach. The force from the shotgun spray caused it to double over. The weakened officer could barely keep the gun steady after the recoil. The monster shook of the pain, and then charged again. With his last bit of energy, Davis managed to aim the gun in the creature's direction, as it was about to deliver one last death blow, Davis squeezed the trigger; the spray tore into its upper torso into pulp. Screams resonated from the former-human. Then it fell silent, and landed on the officer. The Sergeant pushed the corpse off of him, revealing three more monsters bearing down on him. Even at full strength, with raging adrenaline, Davis would be outmatched by just one of these things in hand to hand combat. Three of them would tear him to confetti. But they never go the chance. The LRV made road-kill out of them.
"Hop in," the Sergeant was grateful for the rescue, the men were either unaware of his desertion, or did not care. In any case, he was happy to be getting the hell out.
"Commissioner," the voice of an annoyed National Guard major made Robert feel angry, he had no time for this. "You do realize how ridiculous this sounds?" Of course I do he thought to himself, but today had proven anything but normal. With the majority of his men dead, and the town now helpless against this assault, he needed the Major to understand. Any more delays would draw out the already far-too-slow mobilization speed of the National Guard. He did not have much time before his own office was overrun.
"Look, I don't have time for this. My men are dead, and my town is almost overrun." At that moment, Melissa came thru the door, holding up a video tape. Robert nodded, and then spoke into the phone. "About that proof you wanted, I'm pleased to inform you that some has just arrived."
Chapter 3: Containment
Date: 21 November 2008, 1:16 am
Chapter 3: Containment
"You cannot kill them; you will only make them stronger."
Military scientist Jacob Mathers nearly vomited. The overpowering stench of rotting flesh was enough to kill a man without help from the tentacles.
"What did we get ourselves into now?" Jacob held his breath, and fought back a wave of nausea, he felt his head spinning. Then the world stopped, and he composed himself.
"Doctor, are you ok?" The Doctor had nearly forgotten about the reason he was here. He needed to tell all he had been able to gather in the past few hours.
"I'm fine, what is the status of the infected areas?"
"The Infected have been contained in the town, for now. Please doctor, we need all of the information you can give us." The Major was right. There was a reason he was here.
"Well, much of the knowledge I have is based on limited intelligence. So bear in mind that what I say may only be partially true." The Major, along with his staff, nodded, they understood. "Roughly three days ago, an unknown object crash landed about five miles from the town. Nothing was thought of it. Later examination reveled a calcium based substance which was found to be identical to the specimens we have recovered." Jacob pointed to the dead carcass of one of the larger man shaped forms.
"How about their Physiology, they way they move, the way they fight?" The Major was obviously uncaring about where they came from or what they were made of. He wanted to know how to kill them.
"Very well," Jacob walked over to the dead form on the table, so far he had termed these forms grunts. "These are what I have termed grunts, or combat forms if you prefer." They are basically humans that have been mutated into the ultimate boxer. They grow a large spiked tentacle, and evolve the muscles and tendons to be more robust allowing for increased mobility. They do not seem to be using weapons thus far, but that could very easily change." The Major nodded, Jacobs could tell he had the man's interest. But, the Major also betrayed a hint of worry in his expression. Almost as if he could hear the bad news coming. The Major decided to preempt this.
"So, they seem to be dimwitted grunts that cannot use a weapon. I have a hard time believing that they are that easy to deal with." Annoyance riddled his voice, Jacobs could not stall anymore; he had to tell him the bad news.
"Despite their apparent lack of inelegance, they have a firm grasp on basic coordination. They also appear to be come more coordinated as they assimilate more minds. They can also learn very well. They learned to stay out of the open when our bombers began to make runs. They learned to rely on ambush when outnumbered."
Jacobs had actually rehearsed how to say the next part. There was no easy way to tell a commander that his men were useless. "Major, there is no easy way to say this. But your men are teaching them how to wage war. Much like how antibiotics will eventually breed super bugs." The Major was about to lose it.
"What are you trying to tell me? Whatever your point is, you need to make it fast." His hands balled into a fist, he grasped the chair he sat in with anger.
"Major, your men will try, but they will ultimately fail. Unless every one of these things is all kill at once, the Infected will persist forever. Your men cannot kill them; your men will only make them stronger." The words hit him hard, his gazed softened. Jacobs detected a slight sagging in the commander's shoulders. Those words should have pushed him over the edge, but the Major was a smart man. He knew that the facts were clear.
The silence continued for another minute, then the Major let loosed a defeated sigh, followed by: "So," He paused, looked around the room. He saw the grim future ahead of them. "What are you suggesting we do?"
There was no real silver bullet. Jacob had a solution, one that would obliterate the infected in one fell swoop. However, this solution would have everlasting consequences for future generations. "We need to launch a nuke, and we need to do it before these things become to smart for us to contain.
Sergeant Randal woke to the same tent he had fallen asleep in. The Blackness of sleep faded, he examined the ceiling. He'd not been in this place one day, and he was already missing the barracks. He braced his hands against the cold stainless steel bed cage, pushed his body up till he was sitting upright. Then he reached a tired had and rubbed the back of his neck, he shook his head to clear the cobwebs, and then brought his feet down to the dirt floor. The six foot National Guardsman briskly dawned his armor, and then strode quickly from the door. The late afternoon sky was being overtaken by a shroud of darkness.
"Sir, the men are armored and armed, as you ordered. Those zombies are not getting past us." Randal qualified his statement with an approving nod, then spun on his heels and went off to inspect the lines further. At first glance these creatures were anything but intelligent. But when the intelligence was passed down from the doctor, Randal realized that Complacency would be the death of them.
The clump of trees about two hundred meters ahead of them would provide a perfect staging point for an attack from the infected. The Major had ordered bombing runs to soften the city, afterwards he had made sure that at least three hundred men were ready to defend this weak point, and others like it.
"Keep those guns ready; don't let them catch us off guard." The men gawked; they had obviously not understood the severity of the situation.
"Sir, these things, they are not that huge of a threat" He paused, as if only trying to convince himself. "Are they?" Randal crouched down alongside the trooper; he could see the anticipation in his eyes. So far, the soldier had been able to hold on the firm belief that these grubs were nothing more then the slow moving mutants seen in so many zombie movies.
"Private, I'd suggest you keep that gun loaded. That's all I am going to say."
Randal needed his men ready, but he did not need them to be nervous wrecks. In the spirit of being ready, Randal thumbed the release button on the M4 assault carbine. He made sure the clip was full. Randal then slammed the full clip into carbine.
A tug in his self-conscious brought his attention to the tree line. Several collections of motions brought his attention to the tree line. Randal then realized too late that he had made on critical error. There was a small valley that ran from the woods in front of them to a perfect position for an attack on Randal's undefended rear guard. He cursed the oversight, Randal did not yet have time to fortify his rear flank. Frankly he did not feel the action was necessary. The Trees ahead vomited hundreds of figures. Dozens of Mutated humans emerged from hiding in their rear. The outnumbered and surrounded men would not stand a chance; the containment would soon be broken.
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