Part 33 Gross Human Anatomy - Revised

“China has already used small tactical nukes against their own cities.” The doctor explained.
“Of course not against Bejing, but some of the smaller cities of less than 100,000 people were hit and those chosen were selected where they're miles apart from the next city or town.” He rubbed his eyes as we listened. We were on the laboratory level. Nearly all glass enclosures and airlock doorways that needed key codes to go through. Several rooms beyond I could see where they held several walkers. The office we were in was sparse but surprisingly comfortable. I could imagine a doc or researcher taking a break or a nap in here. The room was sound-proofed against all outside noise. I sat in a comfortable chair at the table where several people have gathered to gain intel from me. Intel about the zombies that now rule our world above us. It wasn't an interrogation by any stretch of the imagination. I was allowed to smoke, relax with a cup of some fine coffee and was offered a sweet roll from a platter stacked high with them, if I wanted it.

Frank and Maggie sat on either side of me. James was occupying himself in the living quarters below us at the arcade and whatever else. Maggie told me privately that she gave him permission to act his age. I told her I thought it was a fine idea. It's not often you get to be 12 going on 13. She giggled that she was lucky that the games in the arcade were set on permanent free-play, otherwise she'd be broke before she even got in the elevator. I could see she enjoyed a brief moment of being able to think like a regular mom for a little while.

But now she sat on my left and her father on my right. Neither of them said anything unless they were spoken to. This was all on me. The doctors and researchers or scientists were friendly enough but still maintain that air of professionalism during their interview. They gave information as it related to my answers and what questions I was able to ask. There was the senior attending physician whose name was James Ellis. I couldn't tell but I guessed he held a Major's rank or at least Lt. Colonel. To me the senior rank meant nothing, but it was clear who was in charge here. He looked to be about Frank's age while his subordinates were closer to Maggie and my own ages.

All of them wore the same style tunic and pants that we wore, various colors I presumed were to aid in identification of their particular field or station. Part of me was trying not to giggle as I searched out for anyone wearing a red-shirt. Ours were the plain olive drab or a dun color of our choosing. Over the tunics they all had the typical white knee length lab coats. One of them sat next to Ellis. In front of him was a laptop with the famous Apple logo lit up on the raised cover. His job, presumably was to take notes, but I correctly guessed that he was making sure that the cam placed next to the unit was working properly and recording the interview as it went.

Ellis continued his de-briefing. “India still hasn't used their arsenal that we know of as of yet, however we've been experiencing periods of black-outs, not only from them but from some of the other countries. Europe has had it's problems same as ours. So information about their status is virtually non-existent. England surprisingly was able to hold off being infected for 35 hours longer than anyone else since they shut off the Chunnel and other means of access to the island. However one infected person more-n-likely got through and, well...” he sighed. “You know the rest.

“This, plague, or whatever it is you want to call it has infected nearly every major country and continent on the planet. Except for Antarctica and several locations around the Arctic circle. We're hoping that the cold is what is staving off the infection there but we're not sure. When we tried to expose the ...” he searched for the right word but seemed at a loss as to what to exactly call it, “virus, germ, bug, whatever you want it to be, to the same types of temperature extremes, we couldn't kill it nor stop it from spreading to other cells. So it's a mystery. Which is why we need to talk to an expert. And that is you sir.”

I swallowed without trying to look like I gulped the canary and gave a solemn nod. I cleared my throat and took a drag off my cigarette. It was beginning to taste like crap, and why not, they were getting stale since I picked them up from the convenience store where I met Maggie and James. “Well ,” I began after clearing my throat again, “what do you need to know specifically, so I can know where to begin.” It was a crummy ploy to try and get them to tell me what they knew before I could reveal my own knowledge, but it Ellis saw through it, he didn't seem to mind. I got the air of desperation from this seemingly cold, efficient group of scientists and doctors. They were dying for more information to help them along.

Ellis cocked his head for a moment, looking at me as if I had the gall to try such a tactic. “What we don't know about them are their specific habits. We know that they don't need sleep and that eating for them is more of a reflexive action than anything else. If it's alive they'll devour it. They do seem to know when something is dead and inedible and something that is alive and edible, even if the target is unconscious or awake. We're guessing that their prey location is based on,” I interrupted with an agreeable nod, “on smell, yes sir.” This was at least something I could talk about and not worry about being busted on something that I didn't know. “They hunt by smell, but they also use sight and sounds as locator's. Closest I can come to by comparison would be sharks out in the ocean. They'll catch a whiff of something and wander towards it, until they either hear the prey or see it. Their eyesight is more near-sighted than far. But the eyesight is also based on movement and I think they've lost depth perception as they try to grab something that is really out of their reach. But once they've spotted you, be somewhere else or be at a place where you can hold out for a long time. Because they're awfully tenacious.” I once again thought about the corpses I saw in the trees, some behind the shattered but unbroken windows of their cars that somehow managed to hold up under a zombie's assault.

“How would you estimate their range of smell Mr. Handle?” I fought against cringing at the title. “Hard to say, only once was I stupid enough to smoke out in the open. About an hour later I had to get out of my sleeping bag and fight off a small group.” One of the other lab coats asked almost impulsively but Ellis didn't seem to mind. “How big is a small group?” I looked at her, tall and pretty behind a classic pair of horn-rimmed glasses. “That particular group had three in it, but I've seen as many as 7, which is considering is a small group by comparison to a herd.” A different researcher asked, “They move in herds?” This guy was short, wearing wire-rimmed glasses and was clean shaved. His haircut said that he was military. I turned to him and nodded.

“Yeah, herds. Or at least that's the name other surviving groups have given them. These can number between 10-15 to upwards of several hundred. At least that was the largest one I personally saw. But they also move individually, these are usually referred to as roamers. There are some that stay in one spot, not moving, nobody really knows why, and they've been called lurkers and sleepers. They'll stay that way until something calls their attention and they'll move towards it to investigate.”

Ellis asked, “Where were you when you saw this large, herd?”

My mind went back to the time where I woke up in a sleeper-cab of a semi-truck and was surrounded by hundreds of walkers slowly filing past. Of how I had to drink down the rest of my water so I could piss in my canteen and the spare one that I always carried, which was thankfully empty that day. I recalled thinking how grateful I was to have a water purifying tablet and a hiker's pump filtering device in case I was trapped longer than I hoped to be. “Just outside of Nashville, I had taken refuge in a Semi-tractor trailer rig's sleeper cab one evening just before sundown. They tend to be more active during the night than the day.” I remembered I was supposed to be an observant and hypothesizing scientist. “I'm thinking it may be the heat from the mid-day sun that bothers them, but I haven't managed to get any verification. But this particular herd took the better part of an entire day to pass by me, and this is counting the stragglers who were as far off as 50-100 yards from the main body.

“The main body, by the way isn't a tightly compacted group, especially since they have to wind their way through a 30-50 car pile up on the freeway, which is where that particular semi that I spent the night in, and most of the following day.” I felt myself blush. “Actually I spent another night in the sleeper just to play it safe.” A couple of them nodded and took notes. I waited for the next question to avoid running off at my mouth.

“What would you say is their level of intelligence?” asked Ellis

I sighed and had to think a moment. “Honestly, I think they're dumber than rocks, though I know that's unscientific, it's probably closer to the truth. I would imagine that they show some residual memory but it's likely that it's without conscious or cognitive thought or even awareness. In fact I doubt that they show any self-awareness at all. They have no sense of danger to self.” I recall seeing one walk through a group's campfire as if it weren't there and it's clothes were burning merrily as it chased after a panicked woman crawling on the ground.

Another researcher asked: “It's been rumored that they lay traps for people and that...” I interrupted because I found the question annoying and ignorant. “I already said that they're dumber than rocks. For any creature to lay down a trap would mean a sense of intelligence, which these creatures don't have. They just move from place to place looking for food. As to why is that I couldn't say, considering they're dead and their nutritional needs would be practically nil. They are attracted to light, sound and will go investigate and more-n-likely only in hopes of finding something to eat.”

Earlier during lunch after I had showered and washed off any traces that I'd been crying my eyes out, Frank, Maggie and I discussed about the potential questions that I may be asked. Largely behavioral patterns and any other odd quirks. It at least helped me be prepared for some of their questions.
Ellis was going over his own notes and asked: “You spoke of residual memory. Could you expand upon that please?” I thought hard about it, reaching for another cigarette and lighting it. It tasted like crap at the moment, but only because I wanted this interview over and done with. “What I meant by that is the walkers tend to either gravitate towards one another as if knowing greater strength in numbers. Also I've seen them attempt to work door knobs and door handles on cars trying to get someone who trapped themselves in trying to get away. I believe that if they see, smell, hear something there's something that gets them going in that direction. But birds singing in the trees, and such they tend to ignore. Ellis nodded to himself, not looking at me, as if I confirmed something for him, a theory or idea.

“Do you have an idea how long they can go without food?” a different researcher asked. I shook my head negative, “I don't tend to hang around long enough to see when a particular zombie ate last. They're dangerous and should be avoided as much as possible, which is to say damned near all the time. You can't be just working on something like pitching a tent or scavenging a store with one walking around nearby. You either kill it or get the hell out of there before more show up.”

“So, in a group they're more dangerous?” he asked.

“No, singularly or in a group, they're all dangerous. Just in a group, they can get to you faster. There was one I saw going after a guy trying to hide behind a chain link fence. The fence had a small hole in it. The zombie managed to find the hole and reached through it and was trying to get it's whole body through the opening, tearing it's skin, muscles whatever.”

A guy in a white smock standing off to one side seemed to not help himself and asked; “And how were you able to observe this safely, why didn't you help the guy?” I looked over at him. He didn't seem to be a scientist or researcher. His hair in a buzz cut and clean shaved face, smock pressed and creased exactingly. I guessed him to be a military mole, hoping to get any type of tactical or defensive information. He should be talking to Maggie instead of me. The tone of his question was pretty near accusatory.

“I never said I was observing it safely, in fact I was busy with a couple of those things at the moment, by the time I took care of those it was too late for the other guy since he'd been bit and several more zombies joined the party. I was lucky to get out of there alive.” The guy grunted to himself and shook his head. I didn't appreciate the attitude, expert or not, this guy hadn't been out there like I have.
“Listen fella, you can go ahead and assess whatever you want about me and all that. But I got a feeling you ain't been out there, you haven't seen what these things can do and what they're capable of. They have no morals, no scruples, no reasoning, no thoughts. They're dead dammit and that's all they're going to be so there's no tactical way of dealing with them. Either kill them or get the hell away from them. They don't care about your age, your physical limitations or your politics or even your training, you're food,” I felt my voice rising with my blood-pressure because this guy was still giving me that look. “That's all you are to them and they'll come at you and keep coming at you until something better comes along.” Frank leaned over and placed his hand on my arm in an effort to calm me down.

Ellis gave the guy a look and he wiped the expression off his face quickly. “Mr. Handle,” he began patiently, “we understand that your experiences out there with these dead people have been very stressful and we want you to understand that you have our admiration for staying alive after all you've been through. There are many of us here who have lost people and it is our purpose to ensure that no more become lost to these things.” He paused to let it sink in, “You have our respect and will be treated accordingly” adding stress to that last word. I saw some of them stiffen slightly. I gave Ellis a nod of quiet thanks.

For the next twenty five minutes I was asked about this and that. Lots of notes were taken as I answered best as I could. They asked Maggie and Frank questions as well, based on their own experiences, but gave the bulk of the questioning to me. After all I was the expert, right? Ellis sat quietly through the rest of it, and then, “Mr. Handle, one final question.” I turned my attention to him.

“The only way to stop these things you say is to destroy the brain. A bullet or blow to the skull hard enough to cause brain damage?” I nodded slowly not knowing where he was headed. “They're still animated even if other life threatening damage is done to them? Say, a shot gun blast to the torso or being cut in half?” I nodded affirmative again. “Why do you think that is?” My eyebrows raised. Was this a trick question? Did zoo-cryptologist know the answer to something like this? I racked my brains trying to remember anything I might've heard from people I've talked to. “I would presume that whatever it is that is re-animating the dead has something to do with perhaps low level brain activity alone. That any damage beyond the brain itself is inconsequential.”

Ellis nodded more sharply. Then, pushed his chair out from the table and stood. “Mr. Handle,” he began. “We deeply appreciate this interview and the candor in which you've presented yourself. It's, quite refreshing as a matter of fact. One can get tired of stiff-necked procedures and protocol. I'm hoping that you weren't made uncomfortable during any of this and apologize if that be the case.” I shook my head and muttered, “no, everything is alright, I get tired of being formal myself from time to time.”

“Good,” and for the first time the man smiled. It was honest and actually lightened his otherwise somber exterior. I guess he still maintained his own humanity after all. “If you wish we can give you a brief tour of our studies and hopefully put you at ease about the presence of these creatures within the facility.”

We moved through a series of airlock glass doors and came upon the first walker behind a glass partitioned wall that reached floor to ceiling. Even from where I was standing I could see that the glass was very thick, at least an inch or more. Turned out it was plexi-glass which supposedly was stronger. The zombie was a male, average height and build. It was dressed in the clothes that he died in, farmer's bib-alls, checked short-sleeved shirt, heavy boots that were clotted with mud and a dark stain splashed across the light tanned tops, that probably could've been dried blood. It's face had been gnawed upon but other than that it didn't look like it suffered any other damage. Likely it had been attacked while still alive and got away, died and then turned. It clawed futilely at the smooth surface of the glass trying to get at us. From behind it's ear there was a bright yellow tag dangling loosely with a letter and two numbers written on it. This one read F-36. What the numbers and letters meant I had no idea nor did I want to know.

“All of these creatures are here for study.” Ellis began, “we hope to know more about these re-animated creatures, we no longer consider them human, in hopes of understanding the process which brings them back from the dead.

“In the beginning of the outbreak we had a great deal of study of the workings of the brain. Naturally, many of them, at first, proved problematic and had to be put down before we could finish or even begin our experiments. Now we understand that it was because of lack of food that they lost the energy they had when they were first bitten, it helps us to know how to handle them better and that makes conducting our studies easier.”

We moved on to the next partition which contained three males, each of them working hard to get to the researcher who was calmly taking notes on the other side of the glass. He looked up and gave Ellis a perfunctory nod of acknowledgment before resuming his typing on the IPad held in the crook of one arm as he typed with his free hand.

“These three” Ellis continued, ignoring the researcher for the moment, “have been injected with all manner of chemicals. Ranging from simple ammonia to a supposedly lethal mixture of chorine and diesel fuel. I know it sounds odd but what we're hoping to find is a chemical mix that will put them down when fired with a dart. In-so-far these three have resisted for the past month since their capture.”

I looked at one of the closest to me, it's skin wasn't the usual zombie tone or even texture, which for the most part is like dried parchment. It was ruddy and had a soft waxy sheen to it. Parts of it's face had long deep gouges that oozed a nauseating yellowish green color. The one next to it wasn't so bad, until I looked down it's body and saw that it too was oozing a gross out green pea type of vicious fluid from it's abdomen. Tattered remnants of it's clothing covered up what-ever type of wound that the pea-soup was emanating from. I had to fight my gorge at the sight of it. I know I would've lost it had I been able to smell it. I nearly lost it on the ladder back at the store as I was un-doing the screws on the trap door lock. The third looked like it wasn't bothered at all by whatever they were pumping into it. That was until I looked down at it's feet. Inside it's dirty, previously white Nike's, that were probably new when the plague hit, came a pinkish-yellow mess that squirted out of the open tops, everytime the zombie put weight upon that particular foot. My guess was that whatever it was injected with traveled down it's body and built up in it's legs and was coming out of open sores on it's feet.

I thought I was going to be glad to be moving on to the next one. “Here we are trying to find other ways to eliminate the threat using non-chemical means. Our timing is perfect as this one is about to be tested upon.” Inside a larger partitioned room, likewise caged behind thick plexiglass was a female. While it was pre-occupied with trying to get to a researcher standing on one side of the room, we could see another holding a strange looking gun. Instead of a long straight barrel, it looked like a type of air tank on the stock. The researcher took aim and pulled the trigger, there was no sound behind the glass but the zombie was hit hard enough to make it jerk into the glass and leave a mark, as the projectile struck it in the back. A moment later the walker seemed to enlarge itself underneath it's clothes, stretching it til seams ripped and parts began falling off. Finally it puffed up so large that it burst. Nothing spectacular but enough to send several pieces flying across the room, including one bloody piece which struck the glass wall facing us. It left a red smear as the hunk of meat slid down to the floor. The zombie collapsed to the floor but was still opening and closing it's mouth and one arm left still reaching and grasping for whatever it could latch on to, which was the researcher behind the glass.

Ellis caught the attention of the scientist holding the “gun”. “Just keep trying but aim more for the head than the broad back.” The man nodded and proceeded to re-load his weapon, as the other one on the far side went to a panel and pressed a few buttons in sequence opening a door in the back wall, in a few moments another walker shambled on through. It caught sight of us and headed towards us with quickened steps before it was distracted by the worker on the side glass as he pressed another series of buttons that flashed a light and rang a bell that was muted by the thick glass. The walker turned to the distraction and headed towards the researcher who stood calmly again waiting for his partner to fire another dart.

This time the guy fired his gun and the projectile struck the walker in the upper back. The effect was more catastrophic as the pressurized air began filling up the body cavity and the skull, which swelled to enormous proportions before exploding to pieces. Again, the body fell to the floor but this time didn't move. Meanwhile the one that was shot previously was still gnashing it's teeth and clawing at the researcher. I stared at it until Ellis spoke, “That one will be put down as soon as their experiment is over. We never leave any of them alive unless it's part of the experiment.”

He turned to us and said, we've had these things contained ever since the outbreak. To date, not one of them have ever escaped.” Pointing to the wall where obviously there was a whole pen full of them waiting their turn for whatever weird, bizarre and cruel experiment that the researchers could come up with, “At present we keep anywhere between 15 to 20 of those creatures behind the walls in a special pen. They're captured on the surface and herded into a separate elevator which takes them down to this level and directly to the pen, There they're released into the pen and the elevator travels back up to the surface. We keep the whole process monitored by video cameras, and to ensure each one is accounted for they're tagged and scanned into the computer. I looked back into the mess of the room and saw another bright yellow tag, the number/lettered side was facing down but on the side we could see was a standard bar-code.

“Dr. Ellis,” I began, “why bother to experiment on them at all? If you've already ascertained that destroying the brain or skull definitely puts them down, then why the elaborate methods?” Ellis nodded in agreement. “You're right Mr Handle, but these experimental ideas come from a higher source.” He pointedly looked upwards with his eyes without raising his head. I caught on. He meant the general. No one else caught his glance. It still didn't make any sense at all yet but I wasn't going to worry about it. Ellis turned and moved on, leading us out through yet another series of airlocks before we exited in the main hall. There was much more going on for another dozen or so feet but apparently that was all that he wanted to show us... or was allowed to show us. From over his shoulder I could see groups of doctors or scientists working at what looked like an autopsy table. Personally, I had enough.

“Well, Mr. Handle I hope that you're more at ease about the presence of these creatures here. Every precaution is being taken to prevent their escape. It is hoped that you will at least relax during your stay. Our labs are opened to you, should you wish to conduct a more personal and up close study of these creatures in safety.” He looked at me hard as if to see if I would take them up on the offer. I felt a tap on my heel and realized that it came from Frank who stood behind me. The tap was more along the lines of “agree with them.”

“Yes,” I responded with a bit of enthusiasm, “I can see how I can at least get close to these things without worry of being bit. It will help my own research along quite nicely. It's appreciated Dr. Ellis.”

The man nodded as if he were satisfied. Deep inside I felt ill, like our whole charade had been blown long before they even asked me the first question. Something was up, I didn't have a clue as to what it might be but I felt an immediate urge to begin planning a way out of this place. Even without walkers behind some unseen holding pen, something about this place kept throwing a red flag in my face. I didn't like it nor felt the least bit comfortable with it. The robots on the storage floor, the nuclear reactor far down below us, powering this place. The armed soldiers patrolling the halls, and all of it controlled by a central computer which algorithms were based on a man long dead. Nope none of it seemed safe to me at all.

Ellis and a couple of his assistants tagged along with us to the elevator and bid us good evening as the doors closed. As I felt the lift drop I kept my mouth shut. Maggie reached out and grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. When the doors opened she excused herself to go find James. “I'll bring him back to our room” she smiled. In her eyes I could see the smile was faked. Frank was almost jovial in his response, “Terrific, we'll get cleaned up and have dinner in a little while.” He turned to me with a grin that stopped at his eyes. “John, there's something I'd like to show you.” I could only nod but didn't smile back, “sure thing, lets go.” I replied easily as I could. Frank laughed and clapped me on the shoulder with his free hand giving it a slight push to get me moving.

We were back in our quarters and waited quietly for Maggie and James to return. For the next five minutes Frank and I remained quiet as we made coffee, we heard faint shouting outside the doorway. The door slid opened and Maggie was dragging James in kind of roughly with him protesting loudly. Both, Frank and I stood up, ready to move to help her. No need, as soon as the door closed both of them stopped what they were doing and looked at each other grinning. A second later they hugged each other tightly and walked with arms around each other towards us. “What the hell was that?” I asked incredulously.

Still grinning, Maggie came over to me, and gave me a quick peck on the cheek and sat down, pulling me down next to her. “Oh that,” she began. “We decided that James' expertise on most things military be kept as quiet as possible.” At that I nodded, remembering the previous agreement. “James needed to act like a spoiled 12 year old kid who didn't want to leave a particular spot that he was investigating.” I blinked at her, waiting. “While we were up in the laboratory, he made a pretense of enjoying the games for a while, then supposedly getting bored he decided to explore. What he was looking for was access to the elevator shafts and the central core. He was nearly caught by one of the guards when I came along and pretended to be a pissed off mother dragging her son away from someplace that he wanted to be.” She blushed. “We made a bit of a scene, hopefully we didn't embarrass you too much Dad.”

Frank nodded, “I'm sure you both played your parts very well.” He turned to me. “John, what do you think of all this now you've had Ellis' little tour?” I sighed deeply and looked him straight in the eye. “Basically Frank, I don't like it and want to get out of here as soon as possible... if it is, possible.”

Frank's grin disappeared, “So do I, my “friend” Bob is not the same man that I knew. Ellis could not perform such tests unless they were sanctioned by the commanding officer.

“Which is, or I should say was my friend. It's not and never will be Bob, I don't care how well he pretends to be friendly it is. And yes, I want out of here as well.” His face was serious, “it is possible but risky.” He paused, looking at me.

“Maggie says that you're curious as to why I was angry at the identification of the man I killed in the woods. The spotter.”

My eyes narrowed, “yes but I've kept quiet about it”

Frank stared at me hard, almost daring me to break it off, I'll be damned if he wasn't trying to get a good sense of my character. I didn't flinch.

“That bastard was from this unit! My unit dammit!” He was not yelling, but you knew this man was definitely not happy. The way he spoke gave light of the years in military service dealing with hard people and not backing down. The tough dogs stand out and last the longest.

“That is no longer my unit. There's no way I would've allowed it, that barbaric testing upon the dead. It's damned near like the Chinese when they experiment on their own people. Some of us have a bet at the Pentagon and other bases related to Wildfire, that they have their own version of the virus and it's reacting much differently than ours.” Then his voice softened, as it did so I saw Maggie flinch and pull herself back with just the quickest of nerve conduction. James was watching his mother intensely for what his grandfather was saying. Even for 12 years going on 13 this kid held himself composed against his grandfather's “outburst”.

Still addressing me directly, measuring me. “The sniper would likely be part of this same unit. I hid the fact that I kept his identity secret was because I was so afraid for my family. The sniper is after you of course. The problem is that he's also trained to see anyone helping you as traitors. But he doesn't have access to this base.” I began to protest but he held up his hand stopping my protest. “But, we're alright. I'll explain that a bit later. The fact that Bob is allowing this, experimentation, says that he's fallen into the corruption. Weapon research is a potent temptation because it's the most profitable. These “experiments to better understand the dead” are for just that. They're in the beginning stages, which takes months of testing. They're trying to get the jump on everyone else.”

I stared at him not believing the stupidity of it all. “And how long have you been out of it Frank? Obviously long enough for this to take hold of your friend, like say, after your retirement?”

I hoped the accusative question was as clear as that but, leaving him an out. Now his eyes narrowed.

“Oh you got guts, I'll give you that.” his voice now low. Then he smiled slowly and began nodding. “Maggie got herself a good one alright.”

I held my ground but still felt like my head just got dropped kicked . Huh? Wha, did I just pass or ...?

He laughed “You're absolutely right. It had to have been just after my retirement. Believe me I'd never sanction this at all.” This he stated as a fact. No pleading to understand or expectations to, there was no lie there.
I nodded but felt myself loosening up. Maggie and James relaxed and suddenly I realized that the two were posed to take me out if I made one single move towards him. He knew that sniper was out to kill me and still let me stand watch. Still let me go out to the truck alone. I nodded but still wanted to know why the sniper didn't choose me over the zombie on the highway. It'll have to wait. Frank held out his hand to his daughter. Maggie went to him, joined hands and sat down on his left. “This is my heart” he said nodding to her. She was smiling at me. It was a good smile. My heart lightened at the sight.

Frank held out his other hand and James came, copied his mother and took Frank's right side. “This is my strength.” James wasn't smiling but there was no hostility in his eyes either. Frank held both of their hands up to me. “This is my family” and put their hands back down. “I want them safe, I want them out of here, and it's going to take someone with your expertise to pull it off.”
“Meaning?”

“You got a basic idea of the layout of this place right?” he asked.
I nodded but made a comme ci, comme ça motion with my hand.

Frank nodded understandingly, “I'll get you the plans of the facility for you to study, since it's going to be you who will lead us out of here.” I was still puzzled at exactly what he meant, but just as it was dawning on me, our door chimed. We had a visitor.

Maggie stood and looked at her Father, he gave her a nod and signed something to James who nodded as well and moved to the dining area but still keeping everyone in sight. Maggie stood by the door and looked back over her shoulder at us. Again Frank gave her a go-ahead. She turned and pressed the intercom button, “Yes? Who is it?”

“Dr. Ellis, I would like to speak to Mr. Handle if he's available.”

That took all of us by surprise and I looked at Frank for the next step. He stared at the door, but his voice was calm and easy. “It'll be alright, lets see what he has to say. Our plan has to have time to work out everything. We can pick it all up after he leaves.”

I turned back to Maggie and nodded, “show him in.”

She pressed the door and it slid open quietly. Ellis was out of his lab coat, but still dressed in his work clothes. The most noted thing about him was he was looking a little, no, make that a lot pale. He gave Maggie a smile of thanks and walked in far enough for the door to close behind him. “Come in doctor, please.” Maggie was playing the perfect relaxed hostess. Ellis smiled at her “Thank you.” and followed her over to where we were sitting. Frank started to get up and Ellis held out a hand staying him. “Please, I wish to speak to all of you. I thought you would be in your own quarters but I guess I shouldn't be surprised to find you here.” He paused for a moment looking a little embarrassed, looking at Frank“after all, they are your only family left.”

My personal alarm bells were ringing helter skelter at this point. Were we caught already? How was that possible. Did they lie about the rooms being private and not wired? Yet Ellis appeared just moments after Frank started to announce plans for our exit.

“I'll come right to the point, since small talk has never been my forte'.” Frank gestured for him to sit, then waved James on over to us. The boy didn't move. He wouldn't move unless directed by his mother or Grandfather. I wasn't sure if I had that authority over him, just yet but I wasn't going to argue. This kid has impressed me to no end. Charlie was like wise. He said James had reminded him of kids his age at the time he was in combat. Capable, disciplined, and deadly. Ellis, not knowing this gave the boy a sincere smile. “He is a fine looking boy, strong and I think it's good that he's still has his family, since so many others have lost theirs.”

I decided to cut through it. “I thought small talk wasn't your forte' doctor.” He looked at me and blushed a little, with his pale face it was hard not to notice. He nodded and swallowed hard. What he had to say was obviously difficult.

The man wrung his hands and wiped them on his pants leg, he looked around quickly as if he was afraid of being overheard. Then stared hard at all of us.

“We're all in great danger. I, uh, want to get out of here and I'm going to need your help.”