Marie Lanza [Lanza - No Way Out

FRACTURED

No Way Out

Marie Lanza

FRACTURED
NO WAY OUT

Copyright 2019 by Marie Lanza

http://www.MarieLanza.com

Marie Lanza holds the sole rights to all characters and concepts herein.

All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author. Fractured: No Way Out, is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are productions of the writers imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

ISBN: 978-1-693179-51-8

All rights are reserved.

Edited by: Matthew Hollis Damon

It was once a drug den in the basement of an abandoned building Now, a nest for the infected, eating each other, lying among carcasses, piling on one another, waiting for the next victim to wander in and never leave again.

Its coming

THE BEGINNING

Fort Mesa, just outside of Los Angeles, California

She sat at a station wearing an air-supplied body suit that offered full coverage, including respiratory protection. A coiled red hose hung from the ceiling and attached to the back of her suit, providing oxygen. She was working under a ventilation hood, delicately placing samples of hazardous materials from vials into dishes, sealing them shut. Then the doctor stacked the dishes and swiveled her chair over to a microscope. Placing one of the samples down, she leaned over the microscope for a few moments. Satisfied, she placed a second sample into view, then a third. The doctor scooted back from the table and took in a deep breath. She went back in for another look and adjusted the settings on her scope like it might give her a different result.

Shit, she whispered to herself.

Dr. Karen Jaxon, a Virologist, had been sitting like this for so many hours, testing and re-testing, she lost track of time. She looked at a clock that read: 4:30 PM. Dr. Jaxon jotted down a few notes onto a pad sitting next to her microscope.

There was a quiet urgency in Dr. Jaxons movement through the facility. She was wearing a white lab coat over what looked like casual business attire. What was probably a put together bun, holding back her hair from falling in her face, was now loosely hanging on the top of her head. She carried a folder, several papers, and a half-finished cup of coffee with a hint of her lipstick stuck to the side. Dr. Jaxon glanced to her coffee but at this point it was probably cold. As she walked past a trash bin, she tossed her cup in.

It was an open floor plan with tables holding computers and lab equipment. There was a handful of other scientists at various stations, each lifting their eyes as Dr. Jaxon walked through the room. She didnt acknowledge anyone - she didnt have time to.

Dr. Jaxon had only been at this facility for a few weeks. She was brought in to investigate a virus that seemed to be spreading in the Skid Row population of Los Angeles. It took about a hundred people to fall ill when the County of Los Angeles asked for federal help with a Tuberculosis scare. However, when the government stepped in, it wasnt TB at all. It was an unknown fast acting killer then re-animator.

At the back of the unit was a glass office where a man was sitting at his desk. He wore a white lab coat over camouflage BDUs, and his glasses made him appear more scholarly than your average officer.

Dr. Jaxon entered the office and closed the door.

We have a big problem. It was straight to business, as she delivered the papers on top of her file, All new candidates, same symptoms. Chills, Fever, cough

Hi. Colonel Leonard Dean was one of those men who seemed to have a constant grimace on his face. The frown lines between his eyes were deep and looked muppet-like with his weather-hardened skin. He took the papers and began sorting through them. Were still hoping to get ahead of this. Track down those infected. I think what youll find is weve pointed to the hot spots, we pick them up, quick thorough testing and those positive we remove. Those negative, theyre put right back where we found them. No harm done.

We need to keep them here. This virus Dr. Jaxon wasnt able to finish.

Were not a hospital facility Doctor Jaxon, were a lab. Right now the message to the public is working. Los Angeles has a TB scare. Were sticking with that. We test and release. No wide-spread panic.

I think its a big mistake. The incubation period hasnt been accounted for. Your team missed some. And by some, I mean, a lot. And a lot could be thousands. Dr. Jaxon exclaimed with growing urgency.

What are you talking about? He took a better look at the papers.

Dr. Jaxon placed the file of additional information down on his desk. My specimens from LA, San Francisco, Chicago, New Orleans, New York, and DC All came down with the virus. All tested negative in initial labs. They also showed no symptoms for days. Not only is it incubating, its hiding.

We dont know anything about this virus. Hows it spreading? Is it airborne? Colonel Dean tossed the papers on his desk like they were yesterdays trash.

I just need a couple more days. A week. Until then, may I suggest a mass quarantine effort? People with flu-like symptoms headache, chills, fever. A lot of the same as TB. People relate to the flu better, call it that if you dont like TB. Its something they already know. Less scary. Less panic. If you have those symptoms self-quarantine and call authorities. Dr. Jaxon paced around the room as she brainstormed.

This is going to cause wide-spread chaos. Self-quarantine, my ass. Colonel Dean slapped at the papers on his desk. Whens the last time you took a sick day?

Theres something else you should know. If the patient is alive, they could go days without any symptoms. If the patient dies, its a matter of minutes

Whats a matter of minutes? Colonel Dean asked.

The patients come back.

Come back to wh--, started Colonel Dean before he stopped mid-thought. He slowly took off his glasses as he contemplated those words, the patients come back. He stood up slowly. Show me.

* * *

The laboratory was a controlled room with all the conditions heavily monitored. Dr. Jaxon sat on a stool at a large lab table. She wore a mask over her face as she jotted down notes on a pad.

She picked up the phone, dialed an extension number, and waited.

This is Paul.

Hey Paul, this is Doctor Jaxon. Is Casey around?

No Maam. Hes out on a run. Anything I can help you with?

Weve got a couple of cases at County with our TB symptoms. I need a pickup. When will he be returning?

I dont know Maam, but Im happy to make the run.

That would be great. Ill message you over the details. She hung up the phone.

Dr. Jaxon stood up and turned around. Behind her was a long wall of six plexiglass cells that held beds and patients inside, along with medical equipment monitoring vitals. Each patient was in a different stage of decay. On the doors of each cell, large banners were posted reading city names Los Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago, New Orleans, New York, and Washington DC.

Dr. Jaxon walked over to the glass of the patient in the Los Angeles cell. The person was out of the bed, fully infected, pacing along the glass. It looked like a middle-aged man, his eyes glazed over with a white film, his skin gray. It pawed against the barrier smearing a black coagulated blood from stubs where its hands should have been. Its hands were attached to the restraints still hanging on the bed.

Fort Mesa, just outside of Los Angeles, Officer Quarters

Smack , the leather glove did little to dampen the backhand of Colonel Dean as his wife tumbled to the ground. The starched creases of his Army Service Uniform left no memory of the movement as he stared down at Janice Dean, a small smirk barely touching the corner of his mouth.