“...Yes...I'm Inside You...

  ...Tell me how does it fell to feel like this...

  ...Just like I do?"

  - Dave Willams

  The light had gone out long before the continuous barrage of heavy weaponry. had finally wound to a halt. Malcolm and the squads inside were enveloped by the black; every now and then, bursts of rifle fire echoed from the outside. Malcolm fumbled for wherever he set the earpiece.

  A voice was overpowered by propellers. “…HQ we have confirmed sweeps of checkpoints Beacon Hill, South Gate, Blue Ridge…”

  Malcolm holstered his pistol and grabbed his rifle. “Open the shutter! We’re in the clear!”

  There was a mass hesitation before someone finally relented, they were soon helped by others and the rest prepared their triggers. The shutter was lifted, and the sunlight beamed inside. Malcolm weaved to the front and took point, stepping around the bodies.

  Both directions had every meter stacked and crammed with bodies that had been mangled, head to toe, with heavy caliber bullet holes. The civilians were indistinguishable from the Uniforms or Infected; every step Malcolm took was sloshing in blood and bone fragments.

  A single black hawk remained directly above them and the minigunner waved a thumbs up to Malcolm, who returned it.

  “Everybody keep your eyes to the ground,” Malcolm commanded. “Watch for any movement.” As he walked down the units, more soldiers came stepping out of the shutters. Some of them placed rounds in any intact head they found while others preferred to stand guard by their shelter. Another set of jet booms complimented a chorus of distant gunfire.

  Malcolm stepped through the area’s main gate to see the local clinic was in flames, with an additional column of smoke over the buildings past it. The burning clinic was surrounded by gas-masked platoons who were preparing firehoses to contain the flames.

  Outside the Checkpoint fence line, Malcolm could see several armored convoys busing up and down the streets. Dozens of platoons were entering every complex or business; masses of civilians were being herded outside and loaded onto the buses. Between every other shout, pops could be heard down the roads.

  “Halt!” A voice barked behind Malcolm. He turned to face two masked soldiers. Others were gathering the survivors from the storage units. “Name and Rank?”

  “Major Nelson.” He answered.

  “We’re you bitten?” one of them asked while eyeing Malcolm from top to bottom.

  “No.” Malcolm was stern. “What the hell happened out here?”

  “Hospitalizations surged. Orders were to use napalm.”

  “On whose authority?” Malcolm demanded.

  “General Abrams. Sir.”

  Another round of fire echoed. “Where’s Clemens?”

  “HQ is off limits sir. Orders are to wait on the civilian round-up.”

  Malcolm clenched his fist. “I’m not asking you Corporal. I’m going over there.”

  Both soldiers stared at each other as Malcolm pushed past them.

  ***

  Malcolm strode through a parking lot adorned with machine gun positions and platoons honing their aim, from the building to Malcolm.

  “HALT! IDENTIFY!”

  Malcolm refused to raise his hands; he touched his earpiece instead. “Clemens! It’s Nelson! Get your men to stand down!”

  A moment passed while the platoons aiming at Malcolm began to shake.

  “Clemens! I know you can hear me! I’m about to strut along in there! If you don’t want to…”

  The doors to the library flung open and a series of warrant officers came outside. “LET HIM THROUGH!” one of them called out and every gun lowered.

  Malcolm entered the library expecting to find the same busy faces yelling over the radios. Instead, he was taken to see the room half empty and for those inside, they lay on cleared tables or sat by themselves in corners; an eyrie silence was gripped by everyone. Malcolm twitched his fingers beside his holstered pistol; seeing the door to the office, it was guarded by a single warrant officer who sat against it with his rifle resting on his lap.

  “Clemens is in there?” Malcolm asked.

  The officer looked up with dilated eyes inside a paling head. He forced a murmur. “He said no one can leave…doesn’t want to be seen…”

  “He let me in, now stand up.”

  The Officer stood, with a pinched neck and didn’t move. “He ordered me to…”

  “All of you are infected.” Malcolm interrupted. “Stop taking his orders. I need to see how bad he is.”

  The officer muffled a cough with his elbow, facing away from Malcolm. He knocked once on the door, “He’s from outside sir.”

  The officer stepped away and Malcolm flung the door to a sorry sight. Lieutenant Colonel Clemens sat in the office rolling chair with his back facing Malcolm. The window blinds were wide open, allowing the room’s only light from the sun; he stared with hands on the glass, wanting to pry the window open. When he turned slowly, one hand was holding a picture locket; Clemens stared into the picture with a solemn smile beneath a pale face and moistening brows.

  Malcolm gently shut the door before he finally spoke. “The Quarantine Zone has already failed.”

  Clemens rocked in his chair before closing the locket. “The morning’s casualties are…unfortunately high; both civilian and personnel.”

  Malcolm sneered, “More people are dead than wounded.”

  “Nelson…” Clemens coughed. “This is a setback, but I assure you, we are one step ahead of this plague. Otherwise, the whole zone would’ve been lost.”

  Malcolm stepped forward. “One of my C.O.s got infected.”

  Clemens nodded. “Of course, they did…so did we.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  “HOW!?” Malcolm demanded.

  “The city’s water got contaminated yesterday…” Clemens relented. “…The whole system was shut down before the situation became insolvable.”

  Malcolm’s eye began to twitch as he remembered flashes of Bannon refilling his Canteen. “...It rained yesterday...”

  Clemens nodded. “Command tried to solve the situation before it became a full outbreak-”

  “You think the problem solved if the fucking Water-Cycle became our worst enemy?” Malcolm hushed. “The checkpoint is littered with corpses!”

  “…General Abrams gave the order to conduct airsweeps…I did my job proudly, and for the last time.”

  Malcolm sunk his head in disapproval. “One last command given by my dying superior. A sick pup puts down the rabid pack. What of you now, sealed up in here?”

  Clemens looked disgusted. “Someone had to secure our checkpoint…Don’t you fucking dare judge me, Nelson.”

  Malcolm leaned in. “I don’t, not for a second. But you get to sit here with the infection while everyone who went to the hospitals was burned? You’re imposing a self-quarantine until the troops outside must shoot you through the windows.”

  Clemens shook his head. “…doctors need every live sample they can get. We’re waiting for exfil.”

  Malcolm smacked his lips. “You’re waiting to die anyway; nobody survives Naegleria.”

  Clemens held back the tears in his eyes. “They can cure it Nelson…they just need more time…”

  Malcolm’s eyes blackened. “They can’t cure you: first they’ll restrain you. Next, they’ll hook you up to whatever they need to monitor the Amoeba. They’ll test whatever meds they might have, collecting your blood while you suffer. After that, you won’t be you anymore; then they’ll have to dissect your brain.” Malcolm waited to see it sink in. “That’s how Lieutenant Colonel Samuel Clemens died; a human experiment.”

  Under a cough, Clemens gripped the locket as he refused to cry. “It all had to mean something…if it helps them make a vaccine…”

  “They’re not going to find it in time.” Malcolm interrupted. “By this point, the plague will run its course. Borders have already been closed, travel is paralyzed, but who can stop the refugee waves from bringing the plague with them? Now that the Amoeba can precipitate, how many places will get hit like ours did before they find out?

  Nations will collapse, Border restrictions will become the standard. Supply lines, support networks, all gone. These fucking walls are proof of that, and we still can’t keep the infection out.”

  Under closed eyes, Clemens broke a tear. He made a cross motion on his chest, leaning into the desk. “…I’m responsible for following orders…”

  “Letting you willingly turn zombie isn’t very responsible of me.” Malcolm continued as Clemens opened his eyes. “I made that call with Daniels. And if I understood then what was really happening, I could’ve stopped him from turning.”

  Dismissing a pinch of rage, Clemens kept both hands cupped together. “I don’t want to be one of them…my sons can’t know that’s how I died…”

  “You choose how you die, Clemens.”

  The Lieutenant Colonel frowned. “I can’t kill myself…it’s not Christian.”

  Malcolm snarled. “Look out the window Clemens. I didn’t see any fucking Rapture.”

  Clemens paused for a long moment before sliding his locket across the desk, he then felt for letter inside it. “Make sure these get to my sons…they’ll be landing on the eastern seaboard.” He forced a smile. “McElroy told me before you arrived.”

  Malcolm nodded before accepting both. Clemens leaned back into his chair before touching his earpiece. “To all personnel stationed at the South Gate Checkpoint, this is Lieutenant Colonel Clemens…I’m afraid this is my sign off. Until Mercer Island can designate otherwise, I’m relinquishing command over to Major Nelson. He is with me in the library and is not infected. Stand down when you see him exit…Godspeed everyone…”

  Clemens took the earpiece off and set it on the desk with took a deep breath. As he closed his eyes, he felt his holster for the pistol and leaned back to inspect it. After snapping a round in the chamber, Clemens looked to see Malcolm standing motionless. “You’re just going to watch?!”

  Malcolm responded beneath his black eyes. “If you fuck up, you’ll come back quick. Someone needs to make sure.”

  Clemens seethed out a tear and nodded. “…Through the dome…”

  There was a buzz from Malcolm’s earpiece. “…Malcolm!”

  He touched it and answered, “Piper! What’s the status on November?”

  Liam ignored the question. “You don’t have to do this!”

  “Our commander is infected, Piper.” Malcolm hollowed. “Remember what I said about your brother’s suicide attempt. These people are all dying one way or another and we have healthy people to keep going.”

  Liam started yelling. “They can still find a way to cure it!”

  Malcolm paused before responding. “…And for how long have you been listening?”

  “For fuck’s sake! I know you, Malcolm, and I know what you’re thinking! Just stand down and walk away before any of them infect you!”

  Malcolm shook his head. “I’m putting a stop to that Piper; you should know that. Rally the Company and help guard the fence line. Nelson out.” He switched the walkie off before Liam could scream back.

  Malcolm noticed that Clemens was staring at him, both hands cupped his pistol, yet it lay at the desk. Behind Clemens’ eyes, a pinched look of a forlorn shock radiated. His mouth trembled, “W-Who’s Piper?”

  Malcolm raised a brow, “What?”

  “Who were you speaking to?” Clemens asked.

  Malcolm was confused. “One of my C.O.s, my replacement in November.”

  Clemens made a silent gasp. “I never…”

  “You never what?”

  “I-…Nelson…I never approved November’s new Captain.”

  Malcolm’s black eyes sank. “Bullshit!”

  “Nelson…who were you talking to?”

  “It was…” Malcolm eyed the earpiece sitting on the office desk, as did Clemens. “Don’t be rash, Clemens.”

  The Lieutenant Colonel was breaking sweat through his brows. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, toward the ceiling, before his quick hand reached over the desk.

  Malcolm’s pistol popped once, and the bullet tore through the base where Clemens’ jaw met his neck. He recoiled back with a hand over the wound and an instant gush of blood burst from the mouth. Gore was seeping through Clemens’ fingers and instantly, his whole face turned paler with every croak.

  Clemens’ gagged on the blood with a beastly gnarl. The hand dropped from the oozing wound and the whole body seemed limp. Clemens’ began to scream so loud the blood began to spittle and the limbs pinched. He stood up while snapping and threw everything off the desk to circle it. Malcolm popped another round clean through the side temple; a pink mist exfoliated black blood onto the walls and furniture behind. Clemens dropped to the floor; as the topless head smacked it, the pool started to seep a wide stain in the carpet.

  As the smoke cleared the barrel of Malcolm’s gun, he stepped over to the body and looked for Clemens’ sidearm which was set on the floor beside the chair. Malcolm then heard shouts from the earpiece on the desk and they were louder than the clamors outside the door. “COLONEL!? Please respond!”

  Malcolm grabbed it and spoke, “This is Major Nelson. Clemens tried to stop himself from becoming a berserker. He failed. Over.”

  “Clemens is dead?!”

  Malcolm was stark. “He was infected Captain.”

  “What did he say before?!”

  Malcolm thought of the letter and locket. “No more than what he announced to you. He tried to opt out.”

  There was a long moment of silence. Malcolm listened for the sick people outside the office and no sound came from the door. The captain’s voice returned, “What are your orders, Major?”

  Malcolm’s black eyes focused on the door. A shrill whisper was vocalized to another from beyond it; Malcolm was prepared for the moment they turned to screams. He felt trapped in the office, with infectious time-bombs ticking outside.

  “Major Nelson?” the captain’s voice returned.

  “This building is no longer under quarantine.” Malcolm answered. “Send your men in, put a round in everyone.”

  “Sir?”

  “This library is full of infected people waiting to turn cannibal.” Malcolm blanketed. “They’re no different than a Berserker in the streets.”

  “Major…those are servicemen in there…”

  “This isn’t up for debate, Captain.” Malcolm was starker. “We’re not waiting to shoot through the windows. Send your men in and start putting bullets through heads.”

  “…Yes sir…”

  Malcolm switched the earpiece off and stared at it in hand. He began to sweat as a static began to echo from the receiver and he had to force his hand steady.

  Liam’s voice spoke up. “I keep trying with you because I have to believe you could be different…but you just can’t fucking control yourself...can you?!”