Episode 205 Friendship Foundations

Previosly, On Dead Limit:

"What happens when they start waking up?" Mason wondered aloud. They watched as the last creature was splattered across the intersection. Then, as if to answer Mason's question, fire sprang from the sides of the truck enveloping everything, torching the entire area within thirty feet of its source. The street was left blackened and smoking. Mason whistled, Mary stared wide-eyed, still in shock.

           "What made them swarm you like that?" the guy asked, pointing at the charred remains.

 "Just an accident, is all" Pierall assured, but angrily eyeing Mason.

            "Well if you need a place to stay, and you know, rest and resupply or anything, I've got a place in Lyons. A small neighborhood between the mountains. Very secluded."

"I think we will take your offer, at least for tonight," Pierall told him. "That battle was very stressing and we all could use some rest. We've been on the road all day." he explained.

"Alright, just follow me then," the guy said happily. "Oh, by the way, I never got your name. Mine's Gary." He held out his hand, and Pierall reluctantly shook it and told him his name.

"Okay, so you guys just follow me!" Gary said, leading the two girls with him back to the truck.

Looking back he caught Roger's eye, and the two of them stared for a moment at each other. There was some sort of recognition between them, he looks so familiar, Roger thought. He swore he saw a flash of green in the man's eyes. Roger felt a head rush coming on and steadied himself for a moment. He suddenly realized that his arm was no longer in pain; it was sore but he couldn't feel the bite wound. In shock he saw it was gone, but said nothing.

Pierall shook his head, looking at the burned road. "I hope we don't regret doing this," he muttered.

 =====

They were everywhere. Wherever a cloud of green gas rose the people changed. Officer Dan Parks was in the middle of his worst fight, with a crowd surrounding him. He knew they were infected. Most had some sort of injury. Some were spotless. With the gas infecting all those nearby, there was no way of telling. His German Shepherd was dead, having charged at the viral hosts only to be eaten alive; the rest of the squadron had either died fending the creatures off or fled, and Dan himself was standing on top his cruiser, desperately trying to hold the horde off. He swore when he shot one it was back on its feet just minutes later. There were several he’d killed three or more times.

Nobody knew what it was. All Officer Parks knew was that some infectious disease had caused the Colorado border to close, and that the gas attack was the source of the virus in Casper. Somehow, somebody crossed the border with some of that virus and spread it to us…No, set it loose!{i/} he thought. He looked up, hearing a helicopter. “Help!” he cried out, waving his hands and firing his Colt Python twice.

The helicopter flew over, and, to his relief, turned and descended towards him. Then he noticed several things about it that made his smile vanish. First, although it was military, it was painted black with a large red G sprayed on each side. Second, the passengers where weren’t in uniform. They were wearing bullet-proof vests and riot helmets. A red G was painted on each. As the Chopper hovered over him rapid-fire broke out, killing several of the infected people. Then two men rappelled down , landing next to him on the cruiser.

Before Dan could say more than “Thank-“They put a chloroform rag over his face and stabbed something into his arm. He fought back and managed to see a microchip on his arm before being knocked out.

“Why are you so worried?” Mary was asking. Roger forced himself away from the window and answered, “I’m not. I’m just being cautious is all.” In truth he was worried, but he didn’t think anyone would understand. He’d been watching the Hostel guy from a distance since they reached the house. There was something extremely suspicious, and eerily familiar, about him. His eyes-

“You know you just admitted you’re worried,” Mary pointed out, rolling her eyes. She sat down on the queen-sized bed, laying back into the thick comforter and starring at the ceiling.

“Remember what I told you about Otis?” he began.

“A little,”

“Well, this Gary guy has similar features- his eyes are green, I swear some of his hair is, and-“

“Honey, come on,” said Mary, “he’s letting us stay here. It’s comfortable and there are plenty of supplies.  And I haven’t noticed anything odd about him. Green eyes are normal. If they look unnatural then they’re contacts. Stop being paranoid.” Roger sighed, and looked out the window again. There really is a great view here, he thought. Directly ahead, west, was the densely wooded mountainside. A story below was a large wood deck with a hot tub and multiple tables. Another floor below that was a concrete patio that gave way to pinecone strewn grass. The backyard was nearly an acre in size and had many tall pines growing. Next to the Patio at the south end of the deck was a pile of boulders that towered over the wood deck. An artificial waterfall ran down its’ side. He could see smoke coming from around the corner- Gary was grilling burgers, hotdogs, and steaks for dinner. He went to the north window and looked out over the roof that spanned a wide deck space and the four-car garage. In the gravel driveway and along the side of the dirt road where all the surviving vehicles from the convoy, and Gary Hostel’s “Monster”- the heavily armed truck that had slaughtered the horde of undead in a matter of seconds. There were Seven RVs, the Jeep; the Dodge Dart, and the Peterbil Semi.

It was already 6:20 in the evening. Almost four hours had gone by since Gary had arrived and saved them from what everyone was calling the “Estes Purge” or simply “The Purge”. Many of them where scared, but Pierall of all people had insisted on following. Gary’s description had been pretty correct: there was a small valley that cut between two mountains about halfway between Estes Park and Lyons. There was no radiation in the area (Gary had a Geiger counter) and hardly any houses, all of which were spread well apart.

When they’d arrived many questions were asked: “Where did the truck come from?”, “How did you find this place?”, and “Can we stay here?” were the most prominent. Gary and the two girls who accompanied him gladly answered all their questions.

“We found it at the Denver airport two days ago, a few hours before the city was destroyed,” he had explained, “I think it was supposed to be some sort of ultimate weapon, but it was abandoned along with the entire base. They left so many guns, loads of ammo, and enough boxes of MREs to feed a town like Lyons for a week. So we grabbed every last item we could and either piled it up on the Monster or shoved it in the Hummer.” The man had an orange sports-class H2 as well.

“We needed a place to stay the night and did not want to stop in the middle of nowhere, nor in a city. So we stopped in this neighborhood. While driving by we saw a yellow flag and decided to rest here. The owners left a bunch of guns and ammo as well. I guess they went hunting a lot because there’s a freezer full of meat and the house is cluttered with skins and trophies. They even have a reloading bench! This place seemed perfect for hiding and holding out so we haven’t left.” He’d explained.

He would be more than happy to host them as long as they wanted. He enjoyed the company of 16 newcomers; seven under age 24, six adults, and three elders (including Pierall).

The house itself had four bedrooms on the top floor, two living rooms on the main floor and one in the basement; three bathrooms, a large kitchen, and a small dining room. They had all received a quick tour of the building. They were free to use any room except the Master bedroom, which he reserved for Lissette and Taylor, and himself. Throughout the house were different furs and hunting trophies; elk heads and full bears and such. A bobcat hanging above the spiral staircase to the top floor made Mary and several others jump. Emily had screamed when she entered the bathroom; a wolf trophy lay on the floor. Roger, having hunted a bit himself, was impressed by all the taxidermy.

There was room inside the house for everyone. Roger and Mary had an entire bedroom to their selves. The kids got to sleep in the big living room on the main floor, two couples got the remaining bedrooms, and the rest of the adults set up their beds in the basement. To save gas Gary was not going to run the large portable generator he had, except for cooking and warm water. He had, however, set up many candles throughout the building, and was burning wood in the fireplace constantly. The house would at least be lit and warm at night.

Pierall and the other older folks preferred their RVs and said they would sleep in those instead.

So other than taking the tour and unpacking not much had happened in the past three hours. Tomorrow morning, Roger knew, some of the others were planning a kind of funeral-ceremony thing. It would be earlier in the morning as a “showing of respect”, but to Roger it just meant he couldn’t sleep in. He yawned, his body aching from all the action earlier.

“Did you give yourself one of those shots?” Mary suddenly piped up, looking at his shoulder. In all the chaos and aftermath Mary still hadn’t noticed his shoulder had healed, until now.

“No,” said Roger, openly expressing his fear and confusion. “I don’t know what happened, but the bite’s gone. It healed. It worries me more than Mr. Hostel.”

He thought it funny calling Gary that, since he was still a young man.

“Not meaning to scare you or anything, but it’s creepy,” she told him, “We don’t know what might happen to you. I’ll keep it secret though, I promise.” She assured him with a quick hug then walked out the room.

“Where you going?” he called after her.

“I’m hungry!” she answered, not waiting for him to catch up.

Between the main building and the garage was a covered deck space, where four wooden tables had been conveniently placed. Roger, Mary, Mason, Carlos, and  Pierall were sitting at one; Gloria, Martin Kray, a guy named Matt Kartchner, and Emily sat at another, and the kids were noisily crowded around the other two. Gary, Lissette, Taylor, and the two elders (Ben Osmer and Drew Magnost) were sitting in the chairs on the back deck.

Everybody loved Gary’s cooking. The burgers were hot and juicy, marinated in the perfect blend of spices, and gave off a mouth-watering aroma. Not to mention it was delicious buffalo. The steaks, burgers, hotdogs; all were grilled wonderfully, cooked to perfectly to each of their personal demands. A plume of smoke rose high above the trees from the grill.

Gloria was chatting with Matt, who along with the Kray brothers had led her out of Colorado Springs in the first days of the infection. Martin and Matt were both trying hard to comfort her, receiving a few half-hearted smiles.

“You knew him for a day,” Matt was saying.

“I saw the bite. We knew it was going to happen!” Martin reminded her. Gloria shook her head in denial.

“He trusted me. He liked me. I could see it and feel it…”

“You’re only 22, it was infatuation,” Martin argued.

“Why must we talk about this?” Gloria whined. She took a big bite of hamburger, not wanting to talk further, and ended up almost choking.

Matt sighed. “We just don’t want you to think your life is over because you liked a kid for a day and he died.”

Gloria whimpered at the word died, making them roll their eyes in annoyance.

“We were here for you from the beginning, remember?” Martin pointed out.

Gloria solemnly agreed. “Yes, you have. And I am very grateful.” She gave each of them a short hug, then got up and left them at the table, not bothering to finish her food. Emily, who had been silent the whole time, spoke up:

“She’s under lots of pressure right now, guys. Give her a little time.” They gave looked at her as if realizing for the first time that she was at the table.

“Ummmph..These-burgers aw-delicious!” Carlos exclaimed between monstrous bites. Hardly chewing he gobbled down his third in five great chomps.

“Whoa, slow it down there, porky!” Mason laughed, although he was on his fourth hotdog.

“Big guys need big food,” Carlos retorted, whipping grease off his face.

“Well big guys are big food for a zombie,” Mason fired back. Carlos stood and looked down upon Mason in false-anger. “You try to bring this down!” he boasted, flexing his muscles.

“I think you can bring a house down with each step,” Mason remarked,  punching Carlos in the stomach. He could see the gut jiggle, and everyone laughed. Carlos sat back down, then tore off half of Mason’s hotdog and stuffed it in his mouth. The group roared with laughter. The kids were especially enjoying this show of crude humor. Those that had left the table to run around and explore ran back to see what was so hilarious. Then one of the children, Emily’s little brother Aaron, cried out:

“Zombie! There’s a zombie in the street!”

The laughter died down in seconds. Mason got up and asked, “Are you sure, boy? Is it really one of them?” Aaron nodded fearfully. Mason cursed.

“I’ll go get my axe…”

“Wait!” Gary yelled. “What’s the fuss over?”

“There’s a Seeker up the road!” Mason hollered.

“Hold on for a sec. let’s go see.” Gary ordered.

Mason shook his head, incredulous.

“I think I know who it is…” Gary muttered, heading out into the front yard. Mason followed angrily. Everyone else went uneasily back to their meals and conversations, knowing the two men could take care of the problem themselves. Roger, being curious, decided to follow as well. When he caught up they were hiding behind one of the thick pine trunks, watching a lone Seeker up the road a short ways. Gary was squinting at it.

“Yep, that’s Ghost. He’s not going to bother anyone.”

“What do you mean? As soon as he hears or sees us it will try to kill us!” Mason snapped.

“Not this breed.”

“What the hell have you been smoking?” Mason questioned.

Gary sighed, rolling his eyes. “Come, follow me. I will show you what I mean.” He stood up and strolled out into the open, heading right towards the Seeker.

“Dang, it’s ugly, even for one of them!” Mason commented as they got closer. In truth it was; the Seeker was bald, had a beer gut, and its’ skin was thin and pale. Roger could see all the blood vessels and even, strangely, the nerves.

Gary walked right up to the thing and said, “Hello, Ghost. How are you?”

To their surprise it looked up and held out its hand. Gary kindly took it and gently gave the Seeker a handshake. Ghost nodded with what looked like an attempt at a smile. Then it looked at Mason, noticed the angry expression on his face, and growled. Mason barred his teeth in response. “You wanna go, ugly?”

“Calm down. He just feels threatened!” Gary exclaimed. In response to Gary’s outburst the creature waved its hands wildly in the air and fell to its’ knees. “Sorry, Ghost. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Gary apologized.

“What the fu-“

“Mr. Barres, was it? You must understand that not all of the virus-hosts are volatile. Ghost is different. He is more mentally-handicapped than hunger-driven. Treat him kindly and he’s not so bad after all.”

Ghost gave out a long, loud belch.

“Are you hungry, Ghost?” Gary calmly asked.

“Yeah he is!” Mason snapped. “He’s a Seeker for crying out loud!”

Gary, faster than Roger could see, swung around and kicked Mason in the knees, making him stumble back in pain and surprise.

“I told you, Ghost is a different breed. Just like Seekers, Mockers, Screamers, Slammers, Torchers-“

“Wait,” Roger interrupted. “There are more types?”

“Yeah there are!” Gary said in awe. “You guys didn’t know that? There were eight major mutations in Denver alone. Most had to do with the host’s condition at the turning point.”

“Okay, so say little Casper here is another breed,” Mason grumbled. He eyed the creature suspiciously as it began to trot away stupidly. “What dumb name does his kind have?”

“Well, actually…” Gary began. They heard laughter from the house, drawing there attention for a second.

“Alright, I’ll admit it. Ghost is the only one of his kind. He is a some-what successful experiment. I caught him when we first arrived here, and I was working on a sort of formula…A cure, hopefully. It worked halfway; ridding him of the hunger most Seekers have, and removing the virus from control of his system, however his previous higher brain functions will no longer work.”

Mason gawked at the man for several seconds before asking, “How did you do it? Does it work on anyone?” Roger gave him a look of surprise; having expected some sort of outburst.

“I’m sorry,” Gary replied. “It is not a cure, only an anti-aggression solution.”

“At least somebody tried.” Mason mumbled glumly. Roger remembered back to when he talked to Dr. Patcorn. That man cared more for his original research, was bent on protecting his case so much, that all he had made to help was a modified strain of HIV. This man, Gary Hostel, had essentially made a neutralizer for the infection.

They walked back to the house, rejoining their friends and telling everyone what they had learned. Roger mentioned to Gary the MHIV ‘cure’ Patcorn had concocted. Gary had simply laughed, explaining that the Stem virus was not, in fact, the one that caused the infection.

“What about the Limit virus?” Pierall spoke up. “Wasn’t that what Otis said created the Seekers?” They saw the look on Gary’s face go white in and instant. Shock and fear were in his eyes.

“You knew Otis Graham?” he whispered.

“Yes, he was in control of our safe camp until we revolted!” Carlos boomed.

 “You managed to kill him?”

“Hell no,” Pierall explained, “When you knew him was there anything strange-extraordinary, perhaps?”

Gary looked ready to hyperventilate. “He can do more than you can imagine. Enhanced agility, strength, healing-“ Roger thought back to the fight the other night; Otis dodging everything that came at him, taking a blade through his heart and a bullet to the temple and feeling none of it-

“How do you know him so well?” Matt inquired.

“I was one of his successful test subjects,” Gary uttered, pulling out a Glock 18 and letting loose five bullets into his own heart. People shouted, the children screamed, many took in sharp breaths. Lissette and Taylor just stood by and watched, as if knowing nothing was wrong. Gary Hostel keeled over, blood pouring from the holes in his chest. Suddenly they sealed up, leaving only big red stain on his tan shirt. He gasped for air, and then started hacking up the crushed bits of metal.

“How the hell-“

“What the fu-“

“Who is this guy?”

He stood up straight, holding the broken remains of the bullets for all of them to see. “My name is Gary Hostel. I was test 4538 of the Stem virus, second test for the Limit virus, and the second evolved human subject of Dr. Otis Graham. The mutation gave me enhanced speed, strength, hearing, and healing. I cannot die.”

He looked at all the scared faces around him. “I am your friend. I have and will continue to try my hardest to fight the spreading infection; to find a cure, and to keep you all safe.” His eyes hovered on Roger for a moment. Roger, too full of pride to glance away, stared back. Somehow everything else seemed to slow down. Roger could see the emotion on Gary’s face; see recognition in his eyes, a small flash of green deep in the pupils.

Day Fourteen of Infection:

Roger hardly slept that night. Instead he paced quietly around the room, trying to piece things together. Gary knew Otis. He was…changed. He couldn’t help thinking how eerie it was. And what are the odds that we would all meet here?

The old wood floor creaked loudly, and he paused. Mary continued to sleep soundly. It’s probably the first bed she’s slept in since this began, he thought. Roger glanced at the clock—it was nearly four in the morning. He decided he would take a walk outside, hoping it would help him relax. Silently he pushed the door open, then carefully closed it. The hallway was dark, and the walls were cluttered with large furs. He tip-toed to the stairs, almost jumping shadows from a mounted puma above the spiral steps startled him.

            Once outside, he took a deep breath. The cool air was fresh and clean, away from the polluted gunk that covered the big city. He strolled out into the yard, listening to the wind brushing through the forest.

              "It's a nice area, isn't it?" A voice said behind him. He jumped in surpise.

            "Can't sleep?" Gary asked with concern in his voice.

            Roger shook his head, watching Gary warily. "How 'bout you?"

            "I don't really need sleep anymore," he shrugged.

            "So... about this cure," Roger began.

            "In progress," Gary said with a smile. "I can stop the infection from spreading and taking over, but not yet kill it without destroying the host as well."

            "Oh," Roger replied.

            "It's not easy, I barely know any chemistry. Dr. Graham visited me at my house once, and forgot some papers. All I know about the virus is what I got from his notes."

            "So Ghost really is harmless?"

            "For the most part. I think if threatened he will, by insinct, attack. Think of him as more of a monkey. It may sound horrible, but that is now reality for him."

            Roger listened intently, wanting to learn more. Gary seemed to know more about the infection than Dr. Patcorn had.

            "We visited the lab," Roger mentioned.

            "Patcorn's?"

            "Yeah. He thought that it had mutated. We believed him, until we met Otis."

            "Patcorn was right in some ways," Gary explained. "In a few rare cases, due to genetic anomalies or something, a few people did mutate. This includes me and Dr. Graham. It nearly killed me, but Otis had found a way to stop it."

            "The limit virus," Roger noted.

            "Yes! He made that, and the blend of the two viruses made me into this."

            "So how did the zombies happen?"

            "Remember the car bombing in downtown Denver?"

            "Yeah, that happened right before I went on a hiking trip and didn't see civilization for over a week."

            "Oh..." Gary said, "You weren't there for the first days, were you?"

            "No," Roger answered. "My brother and I went up to-" 

Then he saw a muzzle flash, way up the mountainside. He did not know how it was possible, but his vision seemed to zoom in at the pinprick of light. There was a sniper, still a tiny figure at such a distance. Before thinking further he yelled “Duck!” and saw the bullet, saw it coming through the air towards him. He saw the surprise on Gary’s face which became a blur as he jumped into the path of the projectile. It came out the back of his rib cage, slower now but still deadly, until Roger caught it. Right between his fingers he held the piping hot .308 caliber round. The force of catching it and not letting go nearly knocked him off his feet.

Gary, already healed, stared at him in awe. He came close and whispered; “He changed you too, didn’t he?”