Siren Songs: Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Book 2 by Isherwood E.E

Author:Isherwood, E.E. [Isherwood, E.E.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: E.E. Isherwood
Published: 2016-01-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9: Containment Failure

As the pair re-entered the complex of tents, a soldier ran up to the colonel with a message.

“Sir, I uh—”

He looked at Liam, then back to his boss.

“Speak freely unless you're reporting a state secret.”

“Yessir. The MRAP has arrived and we have one of the subjects in the research suite. He didn't look like he'd survive for much longer.”

“I'll be right there.”

The soldier tore off and they resumed walking the short distance to the tents.

“Liam, I'm going to do something that is completely outside protocol and invite you to watch this procedure. I want you to understand what both sides of the equation look like, not just that pit back there.”

Would seeing the experiment happen in real time change his mind about anything? Doubtful. But it would tell him more than if he was warming a cot back in the tent with Grandma. Better to know as much as possible.

“Is it going to be bloody?”

The colonel looked at Liam with a sideways glance, not in a flattering way.

“This is the apocalypse, son, and you're afraid of blood? Suck it up!”

In the end Liam knew he would follow, blood or no blood. He was suddenly very committed to understanding what was going on in this place and, as much as possible, learn how he could eventually get Grandma out of there.

Step 1 was watching this procedure. Step 40 was walking her into his own home.

The colonel took him to one of the largest tents. He expected a throng of orderlies and doctors to be running about, spinning centrifuges or whatever they did in zombie movies. Instead, the first chamber contained a few folding chairs, as if it were a waiting area of some sort. The second, main, chamber was slightly cooler and marginally better lit, but was similarly sparse. A couple of people looked like medical staff, and the patient was laying on a fancy metal table underneath some lights in the middle of the room, but there was very little else in the large space.

“Where are all your people? ER doctors. The researchers.”

“You expected a hospital? This is it, kid. Now be quiet or I'll have to kill you.”

Even in his fragile mental condition, he recognized the joke. But he resolved to hold his tongue.

He took a seat off to the side of the central equipment, next to the colonel. There were a dozen other chairs in two neat rows of six, but there were no other observers. He thought about asking where Hayes might be, but he didn't want to accidentally get him invited.

The patient was lying down and secured with leather straps. There was a doughnut-shaped apparatus near his head. It looked ultra-modern in the tent, with wires and stuff running across the grassy floor and under the canvas wall—presumably to computers, generators, or whatever. Liam was unable to see who was on the table, though it appeared to be an elderly gentleman. Only his restrained arms were visible, as a large, heavy blanket covered the lower half of his body.

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