Zombie Soap 2: Conspiracy

Thirteen

Monica: Part I

"Everything we are about to reveal is classified," Doctor Benson said, leading Monica through lower levels of the facility. Plexiglass separated the pair from personnel in white labs and face shields. High-tech equipment and technology flickered inside the rooms, and vials with unknown substances sat in tubes and trays.

This was every scientist's dream as well as every horror survivor's nightmare.

Tearing her gaze away from the activity in the labs, she followed Benson, maintaining a distance of at least six feet. "I understand. The CDC would have held me to the same standards."

"And what about your personal experience with zombies? What about your friends? Can you keep this confidential to them, despite what you've witnessed?"

It was a reasonable question. Most people would panic if there was a hint of a threat, no matter how contained it was. Panicked mobs were no better than a pandemic, capable of more damage through emotions or stupidity. No matter what she saw in these labs, Monica knew it was better to maintain her own council.

"I am aware of my boyfriend's tendency to lean towards paranoia," she answered evenly. "You said you need a scientist, and I am willing to help find a cure. Humanity comes first, no matter what my personal feelings are."

Benson paused and fixed her with a piercing gaze and downturned lips. "Confidentiality is crucial, Dr. Wainwright. I need your word not to divulge anything you see."

"I can keep my mouth shut."

"Good."

Leading her to a set of steel metal doors, he swiped a key card in a reader and performed a retinal scan. The door slid open with a loud hiss, leading to a descending hallway.

It was like walking into Hell.

Unlike many of the labs above, every door in this hall was constructed with thick steel, and even then, muffled snarls escaped through the cracks. The LED lights overhead were blinding and painful, and green luminescence where the bottom moulding should have been in clear encasements.

"What is this place?"

Her trembling words betrayed the false confidence she'd projected since her arrival. Like the others, she knew she couldn't trust these people, but she never imagined the conspiracies of a government experiment on this scale to be true. Each feral wail within the locked rooms sent ice through her veins.

What was more chilling was the way Benson touched the small of her back, as if they were intimate and like nothing about these lower decks was wrong.

"This is our testing facility," he said emotionlessly. "Where do you think our samples come from?"

Oh God, this was something straight out a horror movie. "Do you keep...the infected here?"

"The ones we can safely contain."

Her blood ran cold at the words, and breathing became difficult as her throat tightened. Jeannie had been bitten, and every one of them were tested when they entered the facility. Was it possible she'd survived and her death was a cover-up?

Benson caught her as she swayed, helping her lean against the wall when she sank to the floor. There was no trace of surprise when he stared back at her. Instead, he seemed to understand too well what she couldn't admit out loud.

"Is there something you'd like to share, a secret that can help us find a cure?" he suggested.

She shook her head. If she tried to say anything, she'd claw his eyes out. As it was, she couldn't hold back the tears burning her eyes as they dripped down her face.