Z Towers: An Apocalyptic Plague (Made in the U.S.A.) Read online

  A sense of calm falls over the chimps, a moment of silence and stillness broken by the downed chimp springing over the crowded simians. His eyes are gray and lifeless, his breathing deep. Without warning, he rumbles with a tremendous growl and swiftly rips into the neck of his closest companion. Now, the chimps are screaming frantically. Some try to get away, bouncing off the walls of the padded room, while others try to help their injured friend. It’s too late, the victim is dead, and the attacker jumps, fangs bared, ripping into the head of the closest chimp. Blood is splattered all over the walls and glass.

  As the watchers gasp and murmur, the slain chimp slowly comes to its feet. With familiar, lifeless eyes, it looks around amid the chaos, and then lunges teeth-first into the first chimp it can reach.

  “Jesus, they’re like zombies!” says one military onlooker. “It’s like watching The Walking Dead!”

  In less than three minutes, it’s over. The previously sterile room is now blood-soaked, crowded with mindless chimpanzees. Without any life in the room, the chimps are docile, meandering around like a bloody, ape version of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

  “Christ,” says a voice in the crowd, “I have never seen anything like that in my entire life, and I have seen a lot of shit in my life!”

  “So, gentlemen,” crows Zook, “you have now seen Genesis decimate and neutralize. In ninety seconds, this group of fifteen chimps, which were so vibrant and full of life, are now brainless, lifeless husks. We crunched the numbers, and our data shows that releasing this agent into a single person will eliminate a hundred-thousand-strong army in under forty-eight hours. All without putting a single American boot on the ground or life on the line.”

  A low murmur spreads across the room like wildfire. Some in the room are clearly impressed, whispering gleefully, while others are straight-faced. Some even seem nauseous from the bloodbath.

  “What we have here, gentlemen,” Zook continues, “is the ultimate weapon America needs to eradicate terror. A goal we’ve been craving since the creation of this great nation! Peace on Earth.”

  The room breaks out into applause, and Zook raises his hands in the air, bathing in the monumental moment. As the applause dies down, one man in a black suit steps forward.

  “What about containment?” he asks.

  “I didn’t catch your name,” Zook replies.

  “That’s because I didn’t give it. Some of us in this room are well aware of this bio-agent’s capabilities. What we want to know is what you’ve done to improve containment.”

  “Well,” Zook says confidentially, “for that, I’ll turn you over to Dr. Flemming. Dr. Flemming, please indulge our guest and explain the improvements we’ve made with containment.”

  The group turn their attention to Dr. Flemming, who is still staring at the window through which she just witnessed devastating carnage.

  “Dr. Flemming!” Zook repeats impatiently.

  “Yes?” she asks, snapping out of her trance.

  “This gentleman was asking about containment. Can you let him know what improvements we’ve made?”

  “Yes, of course. We have improved both effectiveness and containment by adding an agent that rapidly accelerates the carrier’s metabolism. What you witnessed here is an example: they were so ravenous that they instinctively attacked. It’s similar to a fish attacking a lure; no matter how full the fish is, it has an instinctive need to attack. Hence its effectiveness and reliability. When you take a living thing with a metabolism this accelerated and deprive it of a food source, you put a timer on its survival. Now that these chimpanzees have no way to replenish themselves, they will expire over the next twelve to twenty-four hours.”

  “So the answer is to let them go hungry?” asked the black-suited man.

  “Precisely!. That’s the theory.”

  “How long would this depletion process take with a human?”

  “Well, a lot depends on size, of course, and a few other secondary factors, and we of course haven’t tested it on an actual human but I would say probably no longer than two to three days.”

  “Well, there’s also napalm,” Zook adds, laughing. Having regained the room’s attention, he presses a button on the keyboard that sets the entire padded room into a fiery blaze. The chimps blood soaked bodies are now in flames as they continue to roam. One chimp senses life in the other room and throws himself against the window with the gaze of gray death peering through the eyes of the onlookers. As his scorched fur gives way to burnt flesh it becomes too much for some and they look away in disgust. Slowly, one by one, each chimp falls and becomes a completely motionless ball of fire. Apart from the crackling flames, the room is once again silent.

  “So, gentlemen, any questions?” Zook asks as the wall folds back, hiding the smoldering massacre.

  “I don’t have a question,” says the man in black, “but I do have a statement. What you have created here has not only compromised national security, but the very safety of humanity on this earth. This is no weapon to promote peace; it’s a weapon that threatens peace every bit as much as it does existence.”

  “Now wait a second!” Zook spits back. “What we’ve created here evens the playing field against religious radicals! When you’re dealing with the type of extreme terrorism America deals with on a daily basis, with those who threaten a holy war, you can’t intimidate them with bombs, guns, chemical agents or tough talk. They’re not afraid of dying and they’re not afraid of you. They’re fighting for their god! What you have to do is bring the wrath of God, of biblical, apocalyptic proportions, to their front doorstep! It’s only when they see the workings of God’s fury that they’ll fall to their knees and beg forgiveness. Gentlemen, I am giving you Genesis! It’s our new beginning.”

  The room is silent for a few moments while Zook’s monologue is digested.

  “In the name of national security, and in accordance with the National Defense Act,” drawls the man in black, “we are temporarily detaining all personnel on this floor and confiscating any and all bio-agents.”

  “This is outrageous! I’m a patriot! I’m calling my lawyer!”

  “Officers, please escort Mr. Zook to his office, where he can call his lawyer.”

  As two MPs walk towards Mr. Zook, the billionaire shares a look with Jacobs.

  “Dr. Flemming,” continues the man in black, “and the rest of you, you may go back to your offices, to the employee lounge or you may stay here, but please, no one is to attempt to leave the building until told otherwise. If everyone cooperates, this will all be over shortly. Thank you for your cooperation.”

  As Dr. Flemming walks down the hall to her office, she’s followed by Jacobs. He quickly catches up, grabs her by her arm and hisses, “I need you to escort me to the lab!”

  “You’re not authorized to go into the lab, Jacobs. You know that.”

  “I’m not going to ask again!” he growls, drawing her eyes down to the silenced pistol he’s aiming at her side. “You panic or say a word, I will kill you where you stand. You understand?” She nods in acknowledgement, and they hastily make their way to the lab. As Dr. Flemming swipes them in with her security card, Jacobs is already moving forward.

  “Now, take me to Genesis!”

  CHAPTER 4

  THE BREACH

  FICKLE WALKS INTO the server room and sees us all hovering around the terminal.

  “Hey fellas, what’s up?”

  “Yo Fickle, how’s it going? How was Gerry?” I reply.

  “Same as always. He made me watch thirty minutes of midget porn and now I want to vomit, but other than that, I’m doing pretty damn good!”

  “Really, what gives?”

  Fickle is one of my best buds, but he usually spends his time in a constant ‘Debbie Downer’ state. He hates Gerry Grand, his job, his apartment, his car, his clothes, his life, everything.

  “Well,” he says now, with a grin, “you’re looking at the new chief technology officer of IT operations.”

&nb
sp; “No shit!” I say excitedly.

  “Awesome, Fick!” Vegas laughs. “You’re going to be a total asshole now. I’m going to start calling you ‘Fick the Dick’.”

  “So proud of you, Fick,” adds Sid. “You’ve put up with Grand enough; I’m glad to see it paid off, although I guess you don’t want to see what we’re doing over here, now.”

  Fickle walks up to the terminal to peer over Sid’s shoulder.

  “Holy shit,” he says, “is that what I think it is?”

  “Yep, finally hacked into the building’s security cameras.”

  “Damn, man! Well, I’m not CTO yet, so I can enjoy this for a little while longer. Hey, can you access the executive conference room camera?”

  “Sure can,” Sid responds. It takes him just a few minutes to comb over the hundreds of cameras before he locks in on the seventieth-floor executive conference room. He quickly isolates the camera feed so it’s the only video showing on the terminal.

  “Here it is,” he says excitedly. The video clearly shows Gerry Grand and four other men sitting at the conference table.

  “That’s awesome!” says Fickle. “I bet they’re talking about the CTO position right now. Is there sound?”

  “There is, but we don’t have speakers hooked up here.”

  “Will these work?” I ask, pulling a set of earbuds from my front pocket.

  “Yep, bring them here,” Sid exclaims. I grab one earbud while Fickle grabs the other, and we wait anxiously for Sid to plug in the other end. Suddenly, there’s talking.

  “Holy shit!” Fickle cries. “I can hear them!”

  As we listen in, Gerry Grand says, “Okay, gentlemen, we need to discuss Jamison’s departure.”

  “Here it is!” cheers Fickle.

  “After looking over all the internal applicants, I’ve decided to give the promotion to Kyle Thompson. He was the only real prospect for this job, and we think he’ll fit right in with the team. Thompson, get in here!”

  Kyle Thompson walks into the room and everyone stands up, clapping. I slowly look up to see Fickle’s face. He stands there, holding the earbud in his left ear, completely emotionless for a good thirty seconds.

  “Fick, buddy… I’m so sorry, man.”

  “What happened?” Sid demands. “Fick, you look like someone just murdered a puppy. Will someone talk to me?”

  Fickle drops the earbud, taking a step back as he wipes his eyes.

  “That’s okay, the job went to Kyle Thompson. Good for him. Kyle’s a good guy and a hard worker.”

  “I’m really sorry, Fick,” Vegas says.

  “You didn’t want to work for that dick, anyways!” I cry out. “The guy’s a prick, and you deserve better!”

  “No, it’s all good, fellas,” Fick responds, regaining his composure. “I’m fine with it, I really am.”

  We all know he’s not fine with it, but what can you say to a guy who just had his dream job ripped from under him? There’s a short silence as we all search for the right thing to say, when suddenly Sid’s phone goes off. His ringtone is the chorus to Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing, which he set up for when Susie calls.

  “I have to get this, guys!” Sid yells excitedly. “This is Sid, how can I help you?”

  “Sid! Whatever it is, don’t do it!” I scream as he walks out of the server room. I frantically refocus on the terminal to take control of the cameras.

  “What’s up, Tyson?” Vegas asks, nonplussed.

  “I’m pretty sure that was Susie. She won’t stop screwing with his mind. Ten bucks says he’s heading over to her desk.”

  “I will take that bet,” says Vegas, reaching into his pocket to pull out some cash. I quickly scan through the dozens of video feeds and lock in on the suite where Susie sits. Sure enough, Sid walks up to her.

  “Pay up, Vegas!”

  “Can’t believe I took that bet,” Vegas seethes, dropping a ten spot into my hand.

  “Hey Susie, what’s up?” Sid asks excitedly.

  “Hey there, Siddie-Poo! I left my card at home today and don’t have any money for lunch. Can you loan me thirty dollars?”

  “Well, how about we go out for lunch, my treat?”

  “Oh, so sorry, sweetie; I already have lunch plans with Justin,” she pouts.

  “I guess I could loan you some money,” he says, pulling out his wallet, “but I think this makes, like, six hundred dollars you owe me.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Susie giggles. “I’ll pay you back.”

  “No, seriously, I’m pretty sure you owe me like six hundred bucks, or something close. I have a running tally going at my desk.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” she whispers, leaning in close. “How about you meet me in the storage closet in ten minutes and I’ll pay off that debt?”

  “For real?” Sid asks, barely able to contain his excitement.

  “Yes, for real. Now, go get ready before I change my mind.”

  There’s nothing else to clarify; rumor is pretty clear about exactly which storage closet Susie uses for her hookups.

  “Now, where is he going?” Vegas asks, watching from the security camera as Sid skips away from Susie’s desk.

  “Double or nothing he’s going to get her a cup of coffee,” I say confidently.

  “Deal!” Vegas exclaims.

  “Man, you really do have a gambling problem. Hey, Fick! You want to get some of this action?” I shout over to Fick, who’s sitting at a small desk in the corner of the server room. He looks up and tries to seem interested, but quickly bows his head back down to his sulking state.

  “Man, we really need to get Fick out of his mood,” I say to Vegas.

  “Ha!” Vegas bellows, not even hearing me. “He’s going to the storage closet!”

  I look down at the video feed to see Sid open the supply closet door, look around stealthily and then close the door behind him. “Looks like we’re even, Tyson. Give me my ten back!”

  “No way is she going to meet him in there. Should we go get him?” I ask Vegas.

  “Nah, he needs some tough love, man. Maybe he’ll learn that she’s nothing but a gold digger.”

  “‘Gold Digger’? Who are you, Kayne West? You gonna interrupt my Grammy speech, next?”

  “You know what I mean. He needs to see just how much of a bitch she really is.”

  “Agreed. Tough love it is.”

  “Jacobs, you know I can’t do that!” Dr. Flemming cries out.

  “Don’t make me ask you again, Doctor!” Jacobs snarls, pushing the pistol into her temple. “Your life depends on it.”

  Breathing heavily, fearing for her life, Dr. Flemming walks reluctantly over to a glass room. She pauses before the various equipment that will accept her ID and numeric code.

  “Please,” she begs, “you don’t have to do this!”

  “All I’m doing is protecting your hard work, Doctor. These guys are coming in here to steal it. I’m looking out for your, and the company’s, best interests. Now, stop stalling and open the door!”

  Dr. Flemming proceeds to punch in her code, and they both step into the chilled, glass room.

  “Those are the bio-agents, over there,” Dr. Flemming says, pointing to a small, locked medical case.

  “Well, open it up!”

  She pulls out her keys and fiddles with them, trying to find the right one. Finding it, she takes a deep breath, then inserts the key and turns it gently. As the door opens, Jacobs reaches high in the air, extending his arm to full length, then swiftly thrusts down with the butt of his gun, cracking the back of Dr. Flemming’s skull.

  “Thank you so much, Doctor!” Jacobs says, kneeling down over her unconscious body. Getting back to his feet, he looks through the open cabinet, quickly spotting what he’s looking for: T1Z4 agents.

  “Hello, Genesis!” he exclaims. He extracts twenty vials and places them in a small, plastic canister, then scans the room for his next objective. Finding a hypodermic needle, he makes his way back to Dr. Flemming. He re
aches into the plastic canister and pulls out a single vial of the agent, then bends down to whisper in Dr. Flemming’s ear.

  “Congratulations, Doctor. You’re patient zero. It all starts with you.”

  He flips the bottle over and slides the needle into the vial, drawing in the agent. After he reaches forty CCs of the dark, mahogany liquid, he pulls out the syringe, gently sweeps Dr. Flemming’s hair out the way and plunges it into her neck.

  “Happy hunting!” he chuckles as he stands back up, hiding his gun within his suit jacket. Mission accomplished, he grabs his canister and charges towards the exit.

  As he walks out into the hallway he screams, “Help! Someone, help! Something is wrong with Dr. Flemming!”

  “What happened?” asks a member of military personnel, his colleagues streaming into the lab.

  “I don’t know! I walked in and saw her on the ground. Someone, please, go help her!”

  As the men rush by, Jacobs’ frantic concern drains away. Straight-faced, he makes his way to Zook’s private elevator and enters, canister in hand. Zoe, hearing the commotion, comes around the corner and sees Jacobs standing in the elevator.

  “Jacobs, what’s going on?” she asks as she looks down, noticing the canister tucked under his arm. He simply stares straight ahead, as if he was looking straight through her. Zoe takes a step towards the elevator as it starts to close. It’s only in the moment before the door closes that Jacobs reacts. He looks directly at her and smiles.

  There’s a slight tap on the door of the storage closet, and a very anxious and very naked Sid responds, “Come on in.” Suddenly, the door rips open, revealing more than a dozen people. They’re laughing, pointing and snapping pictures on their smartphones. Sid scans the room frantically, looking for some kind of cover. He reaches for the first thing he sees, which is a mop soaking in a bucket of filthy water. It’s enough to cover himself, but now he has filthy water cascading down his thighs. In the midst of the crowd of onlookers, he sees Susie laughing and pointing along with everyone else.