lemons into lemonade.
He walked slowly around the lab which was viewable from all angles courtesy of the wall of plexiglass that defined the interior research space. Several people were busy inside, either hunched over computer terminals, chemicals, or the dozens of thrashing undead that Anders had managed to procure. Locked inside one of those things was the answer.
That was the thinking, anyway.
The zombie virus or whatever the hell it was was proving to be a slippery little devil. They couldn't pin it down enough to the point where they could analyze it to the fullest and gather the information that they needed. They kept at it, but every attempt at a cure had failed. The most intelligent minds in the city were all stumped.
Trager rapped on the glass and gestured to one of the researchers. The researcher consulted a few instruments before waving Trager in. He swiped his card again and a door slid open with a faint hiss.
“How are we, Vin?” he asked of the researcher.
“Not good. I can tell you everything about how the virus acts around dead flesh, but I don't have a clue how it attacks and corrupts living people. We need a fresher subject.”
“I've already made arrangements. You should have one within the next day or two.” He looked around the room at the captive zombies. “Can you learn anything else from them? If not, we should throw them out.”
Vin said, “Maybe. Maybe not. I'd like to keep them around for a little while longer, if I can. A few are so decomposed that they're just taking up space, though.”
“I'll leave it up to you, but let's not keep them any longer than we have to. I knew a couple of these people. They were assholes in life, but...”
“Of course.”
Trager walked to the door and swiped his card. When it opened, he turned around and said, “I'm going through a lot of trouble to give you what you're requesting, Vin. Once I do, I expect results.” He saw in the other man's face that his point, and meaning, had been taken as intended. Satisfied, he opened the stairwell and headed to the fifth floor to check on the mission's progress.
Chapter 5: The Theater
They cleared the theater from the top down. Nobody was in the hallways. They moved silently, in sync with each other to the point that they rarely even needed to use hand signals, let alone speak.
All except for Tim. For his part, he stayed close to Orpheus, as he'd been ordered to do.
The door to the projector room was closed. Orpheus signaled for their newest member to show what he'd learned so far. Tim nodded and went to the door, put his ear to the gap between the door and the frame, and stood absolutely motionless, listening. When he was certain that, at the very least, nothing was moving in there, he opened the door as quietly as possible.
I should be more nervous than this, he thought. This is real, not training. Then again, I didn't have anyone watching my back then, either. He took a snapshot of each man's location and then, slightly emboldened, opened the door in one slow, smooth motion. Orpheus helped him out by shining his red lens LED flashlight into the room ahead of him. The red light saved their natural night vision, but the glow it cast was almost creepy enough to make Tim wish for a million or more candlepower spotlight.
Orpheus entered the room just behind and swept the beam from left to right quickly then back again. Tim saw a dark shape slumped over a desk right next to the projector. He knew right away that it was a person; his only question was whether or not the person was dead or something worse. He moved forward to find out for sure but stopped short of touching the body. He could see that something was wrapped tightly around the dead man's neck. A closer inspection revealed that it was a belt.
Suicide. That's better than the alternative. That could just as easily have been me. He wanted to confirm his diagnosis, so he put his hand on the dead man's shoulder and turned him over
He walked slowly around the lab which was viewable from all angles courtesy of the wall of plexiglass that defined the interior research space. Several people were busy inside, either hunched over computer terminals, chemicals, or the dozens of thrashing undead that Anders had managed to procure. Locked inside one of those things was the answer.
That was the thinking, anyway.
The zombie virus or whatever the hell it was was proving to be a slippery little devil. They couldn't pin it down enough to the point where they could analyze it to the fullest and gather the information that they needed. They kept at it, but every attempt at a cure had failed. The most intelligent minds in the city were all stumped.
Trager rapped on the glass and gestured to one of the researchers. The researcher consulted a few instruments before waving Trager in. He swiped his card again and a door slid open with a faint hiss.
“How are we, Vin?” he asked of the researcher.
“Not good. I can tell you everything about how the virus acts around dead flesh, but I don't have a clue how it attacks and corrupts living people. We need a fresher subject.”
“I've already made arrangements. You should have one within the next day or two.” He looked around the room at the captive zombies. “Can you learn anything else from them? If not, we should throw them out.”
Vin said, “Maybe. Maybe not. I'd like to keep them around for a little while longer, if I can. A few are so decomposed that they're just taking up space, though.”
“I'll leave it up to you, but let's not keep them any longer than we have to. I knew a couple of these people. They were assholes in life, but...”
“Of course.”
Trager walked to the door and swiped his card. When it opened, he turned around and said, “I'm going through a lot of trouble to give you what you're requesting, Vin. Once I do, I expect results.” He saw in the other man's face that his point, and meaning, had been taken as intended. Satisfied, he opened the stairwell and headed to the fifth floor to check on the mission's progress.
Chapter 5: The Theater
They cleared the theater from the top down. Nobody was in the hallways. They moved silently, in sync with each other to the point that they rarely even needed to use hand signals, let alone speak.
All except for Tim. For his part, he stayed close to Orpheus, as he'd been ordered to do.
The door to the projector room was closed. Orpheus signaled for their newest member to show what he'd learned so far. Tim nodded and went to the door, put his ear to the gap between the door and the frame, and stood absolutely motionless, listening. When he was certain that, at the very least, nothing was moving in there, he opened the door as quietly as possible.
I should be more nervous than this, he thought. This is real, not training. Then again, I didn't have anyone watching my back then, either. He took a snapshot of each man's location and then, slightly emboldened, opened the door in one slow, smooth motion. Orpheus helped him out by shining his red lens LED flashlight into the room ahead of him. The red light saved their natural night vision, but the glow it cast was almost creepy enough to make Tim wish for a million or more candlepower spotlight.
Orpheus entered the room just behind and swept the beam from left to right quickly then back again. Tim saw a dark shape slumped over a desk right next to the projector. He knew right away that it was a person; his only question was whether or not the person was dead or something worse. He moved forward to find out for sure but stopped short of touching the body. He could see that something was wrapped tightly around the dead man's neck. A closer inspection revealed that it was a belt.
Suicide. That's better than the alternative. That could just as easily have been me. He wanted to confirm his diagnosis, so he put his hand on the dead man's shoulder and turned him over
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