Days passed. Or so it seemed to Nick even though the tests only took a mere 4 hours.
He was in a white and sterile looking room with a huge mirror on one end (it did not take much intelligence to figure out that he was carefully being watched from the other side). He had been strapped and locked to some type of chair that reminded him of past dentist visits. No, it was even more sadistic than his dentist. Even his head was unable to move, but secretly he was somewhat glad for that. This way he was unable to see all the torture devices that he imagined stacked on metal trays all around him and when they were being used on him. People wearing white hazard suits and helmets were performing their tests with various levels of invasiveness, but to Nick's surprise they were very careful not to hurt him more than absolutely necessary, and in some cases he had not even felt the needles entering and leaving his arm but only the application of a bandaid after it was already over.
It would have been quite boring if the atmosphere of the room had had anything relaxing about it. But given the situation he was very nervous and frightened about what else was going to happen to him.
Suddenly, everyone left the room except for one person who took off his helmet. It was Sam.
“You are a strong and patient young man, quite admirable. It is over, we are done.” He started undoing the locks and straps that tied Nick to the chair starting with his legs. “You are lucky. We were not able to find the slightest trace of the virus or anything else out of the ordinary in you. Our analysis of your blood and that of Amber will still take a while to complete, but there is no reason why you should have to be restrained for that time. You cannot leave this facility until we are absolutely certain that there is no danger from you, but by tomorrow we should have more results, and then you will most likely be good to go. I will now bring you to your uncle Will.”
Nick pushed himself out of the chair and nearly collapsed when his muscles gave out. He felt drained (maybe they had injected something into him?) and thankfully accepted Sam's arm.
“You must be hungry. You never had time to actually eat your breakfast. I will bring you to the cantina and have Will meet you there instead.”
Some part of Nick realized that someone must have been to his apartment and seen the unopened cereal box next to the bowl for Sam to know this, but he just did not care. He just wanted some rest. But then his stomach awoke, prodded by Sam's words, and Nick realized that he was even hungrier than tired.
On the way, Sam used his radio to have someone bring Will to the cantina, and he was already there waiting for Nick when they arrived. Will also looked tired, and Nick noticed a few bandaids on his arms, too.
“Nick, my boy! How do you feel? Come, sit down! What would you like to eat? The bison burger is fantastic here!”
It took three times as long for these words to sink into Nick's foggy mind than for them to be said. He decided to simply nod on general principle and then walked past them to a booth with comfortable looking cushioned benches where the plopped down heavily. Will sat down opposite him while Sam went to order some food.
When Nick was not making any attempts to answer any questions, Will pulled a small box out of his pocket from which he pulled a small powdery pill.
“Here, take this. It will make you feel better until the food arrives.”
Nick's face must have mirrored his suspicion, so he continued: “It's only some fructose sugar and vitamins – a little pick-me-up, perfectly harmless. No, the tests are over, don't you worry.”
Nick still hesitated, but after Will took one himself he also took the offered pill and placed it in his mouth where it started dissolving. It did taste like sugar, and surprisingly it seemed to help almost immediately as his mouth started to absorb the powder into his blood stream. The fog in his head seemed to lift, and he finally took in his surroundings.
He did not know where he was – the van that had brought him here did not have any windows. The cantina was a stark contrast to the cold examination room from which he had just escaped. The best word he could come up with to describe it was comfortable. It was a place where you could relax and feel safe for a while – definitely not a type of place in which he had expected to find himself.
“Thanks, that actually did help”, he finally said.
“Good, good!”, Will replied. “I hate to say this, but I am terribly excited to be back here. It has been years, and I had only just about stopped missing this place...” His eyes met Nick's, and he guiltily added: “I'm sorry, here I am, babbling like an old fool while you must have hundreds of questions...”
He sighed and continued.
“You are probably wondering about Amber. Well, the good news is that she has not gotten any worse. Her tests were over even before I arrived, and she is under observation in a small but comfortable room. She has not taken any food or drink since she arrived even though we offered. If she were human, I would say that she behaves as if she was terribly ashamed of putting us through all this trouble.”
“Yeah, that's my Amber...”, Nick mumbled.
“Anyway, that's the good news. The bad news is that we still are not certain yet what we are dealing with, and the even worse news is that all of a sudden we are hearing from outbreaks of this virus all over town – in animals and humans alike! It is spreading faster than we can track it, and it is keeping us very worried. And we can't simply let the public know at this point – the resulting panic could cause even more damage than the virus! We do, however, have a working theory of where the virus started – the water reservoirs near where Amber found that rabbit. And here is the really bad news: The virus is in the water of these reservoirs, and this water is now flowing freely throughout the water supplies of the entire town because of the drought!”
“Oh no... You must be able to do something about that, right?”, Nick interrupted.
“Well, no, not really... All we can do is make public announcements to not drink the water, and that was already started hours ago. But the water is not the only danger. Anyone and anything infected with this virus is turning into a bloodthirsty monster with the only goal to eat others and pass on the infection through bites! It's like one of these stupid horror movies with zombies and stuff! Oh, we are trying to find and isolate any victims as quickly as we can, but with all the havoc that the virus causes to the body it also increases the practical strength of the body by eliminating pain. Victims have been seen hammering on doors in a way that broke their own bones, but they would not stop. The virus also seems to inhibit most brain activity, especially logic and common sense. It is horrible out there!”
Will's eyes suddenly focused on the open double doors where an elegantly dressed man walked by who turned to smile at Will who called out to him: “Hello, Mr. Smythe!”
Nick repeated his question.
“Are we safe in here?”
“Hm? Oh yes, I should definitely say so. We are deeply underground, and not many people know the few entrances to this place, and security is really tight.”
“Who was that man that just walked by?”
“Him? Oh, he's just a journalist, but also a very nice man. Usually we don't get his type in here, but they say he has authorization from the Pentagon itself... Ah, here's the food!”
Sam placed a tray with three glasses and three plates with burgers and salad on the table and sat down. Nick flinched at the sight of the water, but Sam immediately said: “Don't worry – we have our own water reservoir, and it is constantly being tested. We can hold out here for a few weeks if we have to. So go and enjoy your food – we're safe here.”
They started eating in silence, and Nick soon realized how hungry he had been. And the burger (didn't Will call it bison?) really was excellent!
Finally, Nick asked: “So what now?”
Sam answered: “Now you take it easy for a while. You have done what we needed you to do, and you did well. And we will take care of the situation. It's what we all were trained for. In the meantime you will be safest here with us, but once your blood checks out you are free to go if you prefer – although I cannot recommend it at this time.”
“What is being done to help the others out there?”, Nick asked.
“We are doing what we are limited to doing without causing a panic. We are warning people not to drink tap water because of a dangerous infection – which is the truth. Dang, I am so not used to telling the truth in my job... Anyway, our men are out there trying to locate and capture infectees, and they are being brought here or to similar facilities like this one. But I have to be honest to you: It doesn't look good. This stuff spreads and works faster than anything I have ever seen before.”
“Well, what do you know about the virus so far?”
“It is transmitted through water and biting, not through air or touch. A bite takes only seconds before the virus takes effect, drinking the water can take several hours. Antiviral agents seem to stop its progress once an infection has occurred, but that is all it does, and we have no way to reverse the process so far. We have our best men trying to kill this thing. So now the rest of us can only sit and wait.”
That was not enough for Nick. “But there must be something else we can do!” And suddenly he remembered something that had been trying to get his attention for a while already. “Margy! I have to get her! Can I use a phone?”
He tried to get up, but Sam gently pushed him back in his seat.
“I am really sorry about this... We checked her place as soon as we could, but she's not home. There was no trace of her, not even among the victims we caught so far. We left a note at her door just in case, but there is nothing else we can do for her at the moment. I'm sorry.”
Nick could not believe it. First Amber, now Margy... He swallowed hard and then picked up the glass to hide behind it. Was it his fault? Was Margy dead because of him? If only he hadn't let her leave by herself...
Sam interrupted his train of thought as if he had read Nick's mind. He placed his hand on Nick's shoulder and said: “Don't blame yourself, son, you couldn't know...”
Nick was about to angrily brush off Sam's hand when a loud alarm siren went off over the entire underground complex.

Jonathan could hardly stand how easy it had been. Here he was now in one of the most secret facilities in this town with security that could rival the White House, and all it had taken was a little mental trickery to convince two guards and their superior officer that his empty hand had contained a letter from the Pentagon giving him full access and privileges to everything in the entire compound. The higher ranking guard was a little harder to convince and wanted to make a phone call to confirm this unusual request, and while he thought he was on the phone with the Pentagon, he was actually holding his flash light to his ear, talking into it and receiving responses that Jonathan sent into his auditory nerves. 10 minutes was all it took, and he had received a visitor's badge and his own swipe card and access code as well as another letter from the officer asking anyone for full cooperation.
Well, here he was, and they had even given him a soldier as a tour guide. How very considerate.
After spending an hour touring the general areas of the underground facility, he finally decided it was time to ask to see his actual goal – the captured zombies down here.
“Oh”, he added, “and didn't someone bring an infected dog that was miraculously resistant to the infection?”
“So they told you that, too, huh? This way, please”, responded his guide.
He was brought to a room with smaller cages that contained all kinds of animals, mostly forest creatures but also a few dogs and cats. All of them were snarling and fighting to get out of their confinement, but there was one dog that just lay in the far back of its cage with its head on its paws.
A few scientists were also in the room, and Jonathan was introduced to one of them called Dr. Will Marsten.
“He was the one who first discovered the infection and who brought this dog here”, the soldier explained and then continued to fill in the scientists about Jonathan's presence here.
Jonathan put on his most charming smile and offered his hand. “Dr. Marsten, a pleasure to meet you! My name is Jonathan Smythe, but just call me Jon.”
Will melted like butter under his gaze. “Oh, the pleasure is all mine, I'm sure. So, what can we do to help you?”
And after a while Jonathan had found out all that he needed to know. Fascinating, Jonathan thought, the stories were true! This dog still recognized people as well as the difference between right and wrong even though its body was clearly dead and falling apart.
A phone rang in the next room, and soon someone asked for Will. “You are requested in the cantina. Sounds like your nephew is there now.”
“Ah, I better go see him. He has gone through so much. It was nice meeting you, Jon. I hope you got all the information you needed.”
And that was it. Jonathan could have left and reported back to LeMont but now he wanted to see the human zombies for himself. Of course, whatever he could learn from them himself could be useful to all of them, but mostly he was just curious. Besides, it would give him more time before he had to see the old stinkwind LeFart again.
After asking a few more questions he requested to see the captured human infectees. The way there lead him past the cantina entrance, and he threw a smile to Will and noted the faces of the other people sitting with him. They had passed a few more doors when suddenly loud alarm sirens went off.
“What is going on?”, Jonathan shouted at his guide in an attempt to be louder than the klaxons.
“I don't know, I'll have to find out!”, he replied and grabbed his radio. After a while he faced Jonathan again: “Sounds like an emergency in the confinement area. One of the infectees has managed to break out of his cage. I'm sorry, sir, but for your safety I have to insist...”
Jonathan harshly interrupted the poor soldier with the mental equivalent of a hammer over the head. Then he continued in a cheery voice: “I'm certain I shall be alright. Please continue to the confinement area.”
“Of... of course, sir.” The man never stood a chance.
Through the near deafening alarm noise, they kept walking down a few more corridors and stopped in front of a door. It seemed they were the first to arrive. Sloppy security, Jonathan thought. Then he said: “You better stay here. I'll take care of this for you.”
To himself, he thought: “Finally! A little fun, just for me!”
He opened the heavy security door with his key card and pin number and made certain to shut it again behind him.
He was in a large tiled room that looked like a combination of a prison cell block and a hospital with a few heavy doors leading to laboratories and multiple rows of cells with heavy steel bars. Two bars of one of the cell doors had been bent open, and a few dead scientists lay on the floor nearby.
After making certain that these bodies were indeed dead and would not suddenly start moving, Jonathan quietly walked on and looked around the first corner. Nothing. All the cells in this area were empty, but the doors were still intact. Jonathan figured they must have started filling the cells in back first and only moved test subjects closer to the labs, so he kept going and finally started hearing noises ahead.
A few rows ahead he saw gray arms sticking out between iron bars. Quietly he moved sideways towards the opposite wall until he found what he was looking for. The escaped zombie was trying to free another. Even though Jonathan knew that they could not think for themselves, Vampire lore also talked about some higher intelligence that controlled them. It made sense to flood this place with zombies by working from the inside.
Not if I have any say in this, Jonathan thought.
He was sure that he had not made any noise, but when he got close to the zombie it turned to face him. Slow as they seemed to be they still could be dangerous if you weren't careful, but Jonathan was not worried.
He landed a few fast blows to the zombie's shoulders that made it stumble back, then followed up with a finger stab into its throat and suddenly pulled his hand up as fast as he could, taking the zombie's head with it. Slowly as if it had to think about it the zombie's body collapsed.
Hands tried to grab him angrily from behind the bars, but they could not reach him. Instead, Jonathan stretched his hands through the bars of the cell in front of him, grabbed hold of another zombie's head and pulled, jamming the head into the space between the bars. Now the zombie could reach him and tried to remove Jonathan's hands, but Jonathan kept pulling harder and harder until a mixture between a crack and a squish could be heard. The zombie's head, now considerably narrower, had passed between two iron bars, effectively trapping the zombie. It's hands kept clawing at Jonathan's arms for another second and then grabbed the bars instead to try to pull it's head free.
But Jonathan was faster. He had already withdrawn his hands from inside the cell and laid them around the zombie's stuck head again – and with one fast twisting movement and another crack the zombie stopped moving and slumped to the floor.
Much better. That had felt good!
Seconds later he heard the security door open that he had come through, and about a dozen feet with heavy boots ran towards him.
Jonathan slowly stepped towards them with a smile and with his hands raised – not as a sign of surrender but to make certain they would not accidentally shoot him.
Once the first few soldiers came near, he shouted at them: “Don't bother, it is all taken care of.”
As expected, most of the armed men nevertheless ran right past him, but one who seemed to be in charge of this little troup stopped and asked: “What are you talking about?”
“The escaped infectee. He tried to free others, and that could have turned into a disaster. I had to do something until you guys arrived, and I am afraid I had no choice but to kill him.”
The officer looked at him doubtfully.
“OK, you stay right here until my men are back so we can verify your story. Can I see your ID, please?”
“No problem, here you are. Boy, this virus must really mess with your brain – the idiot tried to pull his buddy through the bars by his head! Can you imagine?”
It was obvious that the officer did not fully believe Jonathan, but after looking at Jonathan's credentials it dawned on him that doubts or not: This was going to be the story he would later write in his log. Sent by the Pentagon, that guy – great...
Not breaking his smile for even a moment, Jonathan took back his ID and said: “I'm afraid I have to go now. I have all the information I needed for now and have to write my report. I may be back tomorrow. And don't worry, I can find my own way out. Oh, not to tell you your job, but you may want to increase security here in case more of them try to escape, and I have a feeling they will. Ta ta!”
He did not even wait for a reply and simply wandered off past the officer, through the corridors and out the exit to meet with LeMont.

...continued next week...