Pandemic Z (Book 1): Pandemic Z Read online

  Pandemic Z Book one (this book) is a work of fiction.

  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright 2020 Hayley Lawson

  Cover Copyright Hayley Lawson

  Hayley Lawson Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of the copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected].

  Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Content

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Authors Note

  Prologue

  “My friends, tomorrow the world will be clay in our hands. We will create our future. We have spent years in preparations to cleanse the earth, and now it’s time for the journey to begin,” Asher announced to the eager fans.

  The crowds cheered in response. Asher walked back and forth along the stage with his head held high as his shiny black hair reflected in the stage lights. All eyes were on him as he nodded charismatically to his fans. His smile won the hearts of those in front of him, and they erupted into a cascading mosaic of cheering, crying, and clapping.

  Roy drank in the crowd’s excitement, but also wanted to hush them. He didn’t want to have to rush out to catch his flight before Asher had finished speaking.

  Asher raised his hands and tried to quiet the crowd. Thank you. Asher, you saved me from telling them to shut the hell up! Roy thought.

  The H.I.V.E conference room fell silent.

  Asher continued. “Ladies and gentlemen! Now, we all know the situation is bleak.” He took a dramatic pause. “Soon enough, in just a hundred years or so, this world will fall into famine!” He made sure he annunciated the word ‘famine’ carefully, putting great emphasis.

  “Famine!” he repeated, and the crowd sat in an uncomfortable silence.

  “There will be no food for all of us. There will be so many people alive that crops will fail, and we will have to fight for what little is left!” There was another dramatic pause before more silence fell. “Global warming will speed up because of our overpopulation.” He sighed and stroked his chin. “Do you understand the reality of this situation?” He weighed each word heavily so the people in the crowd understood what he was saying.

  A quiet ripple of murmuring voices spread through the crowd as Asher waited. His grin grew larger, more sinister, though his fans saw him as charming and as a protector. No one could see anything other than a man who was there to help.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began slowly again, the crowd hanging onto every syllable. “The situation will be bad but have no fear.” He took a few steps closer to the crowd. “H.I.V.E. is on your side.” He chuckled, and the crowd laughed with him.

  “We are here to do all we can to stop such an awful famine plaguing our society. We are here to stop the future from being a dark and hungry place.” He gripped the microphone tighter and used his other hand to help drive his message home. “We will fight this together!” he pounded his fist into the air, and the crowd let out a small cheer.

  “Today is the day, my friends.” His pace slowed again as he tried to keep his fans’ attention. “Today is the day we must prepare for what is happening!” He quickened his words as he spoke. The fans followed along with him eagerly, many of them nodding while some perched on the edges of their seats.

  “You are here for a reason.” He then paced the stage, taking each step carefully. He looked at the faces in the crowd. They were like a pack of wolves, and they gobbled up every word he said. “You are here to stop the future.”

  He turned to face the crowd and smiled. At that moment, the crowd erupted in an earsplitting crescendo of excitement. After taking in their undying love for a minute or so, he raised his hands to signal for them to calm down. When the crowd quieted, Asher began again.

  “As a combined force of many countries, we will combat this crisis together. We will take on this one together, and we will beat the odds!” The crowd let out a hearty agreement as he continued. “We each have an individual purpose, a task to accomplish in this magnificent cause. Today, you become a part of something phenomenal, something which will have a reward that’s beyond your imagination. Today, you become saviors. Saviors to your friends, peers, and to the entire human race!” Asher paused again, and there was silence.

  “Today, each of you will receive an anti-virus injection, the ‘A-Virus’ as we call it in the lab. You will receive the A-Virus for your family, too, and you will be shown how to administer the injection to your family members, so they can also play their part in saving the world.”

  The atmosphere in the audience went from nervousness to excitement. People applauded and shouted.

  “After this injection, you will go to a designated location. There you will await instructions for Phase Two. You will play a great part in saving the world. You will rebuild this planet for a greater, nobler purpose. Those without the saving injection will crumble into the ruins as we rise to mold this world into something far better than we can imagine.”

  His words rushed around the room, and the crowd gradually absorbed the information. Time was almost up, and he had to be prompt and convincing. He needed to leave the air ringing with his powerful message.

  “Today is the day we become saviors of mankind.”

  That was it, the silence was short before the crowd leaped to their feet, shouting in triumphant hurrahs, clapping enthusiastically, and cheering wildly. Asher Brannick had done it. The world and its people were in his hands. They were the clay for him to mold, and he was ready.

  The time had come for the world to be reborn. A new world was ready to rise, and the people were ready to rise with it.

  Chapter One

  Twinkies.

  Lena Turner had always heard of them but had never dared try one. Cops ate them in the movies. They looked like a squishy mess of calories, but they seemed to be a big deal in the US.

  Over in the UK, different things like Jaffa Cakes or Marmite were more of a hit. She wondered how the American public would cope with such things like Marmite. The thought made her chuckle as she continued wandering through the airport, waiting for her flight.

  Lena loved to travel and didn’t get to do it as much as she wanted because her work had kept her busy. After returning from a tour in Afghanistan, Lena was recruited by the UKSF—United Kingdom Special Forces—to protect the Prime Minister. She’d jumped at the chance to do something new and challenging.

  Her sophisticated look and simple jewelry set her aside from the others who were milling about the airport. She had counted a dozen people in their pajamas, munching on fresh donuts and hot coffee. It was a new experience for Lena, and she couldn’t believe how different the US was from England, her home.

  She’d been in th
e US for a job interview with the FBI, which she’d really wanted it. The interview had gone well, and afterward, she’d hung out with friends.

  The trip was a last-minute flight, and she was dreading it. She wasn’t too scared of flying. It was more that she could only secure an economy class, middle seat, and to her, nothing was more daunting than a middle seat. There was an uncertainty of what kind of people she would be forced to sit next to. The flight to London was a long one as well, that meant it would seem even longer if she was miserable.

  Lena prided herself on being alert and on top of things, but the champagne had flowed a little too quickly, and Lena Turner was a little hung over out in public.

  There was time to kill before boarding and plenty of duty-free shops to visit. Lena had spent a small fortune at Tiffany’s and other luxury places during her stay, and the drastic price difference played to her advantage.

  Things were much cheaper in America than they were in the UK, and she had enjoyed spoiling herself on things she never dared purchase back home. She had a little money left, but her browsing was nothing more than window shopping.

  Lena imagined the perfect drink, the hair of the dog, but the bars at JFK airport weren’t open that early. Instead, she got a drink on the plane.

  Her hung over brain struggled to process all the things on display. It seemed every inch of JFK airport had been filled with sickly sweet smelling, outrageously colored, or overpriced junk tempting anyone who walked by.

  She finished browsing one shop and tried to wrap her mind around iced tea. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but tea should always be hot. That was the main purpose.

  Why is it in a fridge here? Does America know tea bags exist?

  It made little sense to Lena, and she didn’t try to understand either. The sooner she was home, the better. She had enjoyed her time with friends, but she missed her bed.

  A short, large person knocked into her as he passed. The overweight man wore a tight suit, and specks of dandruff settled in the creases around his neck and shoulders. His greasy hair was thin and balding on top. He had combed it over so it tried to hide the missing hair, but nothing could be hidden from Lena, even in her hung-over state.

  The man didn’t stop to apologize and rushed on, muttering how Lena was in his way and how she should have moved out of his way. Lena’s body tensed up, and her hands gripped into a fist. She was pissed! She had no tolerance for rude people.

  “You fucking jerk,” Lena said under her breath. She was too hung over for an argument, and the idea of swinging her bag at his head brought a smile to her face.

  She watched as the man hurried away. Where is he going in such a rush? It seemed too early for anyone to move that fast. The man spun and wheeled into the Walgreens. Lena chuckled at herself. That little man had knocked into her just so he could get to the pharmacy?

  A large sign standing in the window of the Walgreens caught her eye.

  “FREE FLU SHOTS — GET YOURS TODAY!”

  It included more reasons why a flu shot was a good idea. In the UK, flu shots were always free. She certainly wasn’t in a hurry to get hers, and she could wait until she got back to the UK.

  Although, staring at the sign was a much-needed reminder for her to get the flu shot in case she caught something. She found it amusing that in the UK, flu shots might have been free, but a person could die before getting in to see a doctor. Everything took so long to process. Lena had waited almost a year before seeing a doctor about something so minor, she had been thankful it wasn’t life-threatening.

  Being in the forces had helped change that. She had easy access to medical care, and it was much more efficient and more helpful than public healthcare. It meant she never had to wait too long to be seen which worked best for her.

  She still stood, staring at the Walgreens window when she remembered why she was there. Lena glanced at her iWatch and sighed. It was almost time to board. The moment she had dreaded was about to happen. At least she was flying with Virgin Airlines. On Virgin, they had TVs in front of the seats, whereas on American Airlines, they had nothing, not even a plug for her computer.

  Virgin also offered internet, which helped Lena catch up with her emails and other work reminders. She liked being organized and especially liked to know what she was walking into. The internet and TV options were only just good enough for Lena to fly economy class.

  Even with the little luxuries of internet and TVs, she hated the middle seat. Thinking about the chance of getting her dream job and the fun weekend helped her put one foot in front of the other in a slow march to her gate where she would wait to board her flight home.

  At the gate, there was an empty seat beside a geeky-looking man with brown hair. His thick glasses and shirt tucked into his slacks were neat and tidy. Lena sat beside him, and his smell was inviting. A rich but gentle cologne that wasn’t too prominent.

  She pulled out her phone and flicked through her photos, smiling to herself as she relived the past few days in a few moments. Pictures of her and her friends eating street cart hot dogs, shopping on Fifth Avenue, and posing next to a handsome NYPD officer; it had been a wonderful trip for Lena. After not seeing her friends since before she left for Afghanistan, it was great to catch up after so many years.

  The good smelling man beside her had his eyes glued to the TV while Lena occupied herself by remembering the past few days. Her hung over mind had gotten considerably better, and she could think more clearly.

  Lena’s mother was right. Life is for living—not working. She made a promise to herself to take more time for herself away from her job to visit with friends.

  She loved working, but she had also loved her short vacation. Lena scrolled through the countless meeting request emails. They loved to have meetings, so it was no surprise to find so many notifications about them. She clicked accept on one, but the time and date caught her off guard;

  Sunday, 7:00 a.m.

  That was in half an hour. They never had meetings on a Sunday morning unless something important had happened. It was obvious that something was wrong, and that filled Lena with worry. Her job was to protect Mrs. Owens, the Prime Minister, but how could she protect her from 2,000 miles away?

  What is going on? Is it serious—life-threatening? Thoughts and fears filled Lena’s mind as she stared at her phone screen.

  After a few moments, she collected her thoughts and moved on from the notifications. If anyone would tell her what had and would happen, it would be Joel Pearson, her superior and mentor.

  Joel had been the man to recruit her for the Special Forces, and Lena admired him. She dialed his number, and the phone rang. The monotonous tone droned on as Lena waited.

  But there was nothing.

  The TV above the seats caught her eye as the phone continued to ring. They were reporting on some kind of riots. Police officers in heavy armor pushed back figures. They were kids, lumbering carelessly about. It seemed as if they were sleepwalking as they slowly staggered around. Lena’s eyes focused intensely on the screen as she watched the scenes play out.

  A man dragged a woman to the ground, leaping on top of her. Lena gasped involuntarily. What is going on? Is that really happening? The camera held still, waiting for the woman to move, cry out, or do anything at all to show she was alive, but there was nothing.

  No one rushed to help her. No one even noticed her on the ground. They just rushed around her like she wasn’t there. The camera zoomed in and bought her into better focus. Her face was dirty, and her hair was disheveled.

  After a few tense moments, the still woman flinched. She was alive; she had to be. Lena breathed a small sigh of relief as the woman stiffly rose to her feet, but something wasn’t right. Lena’s relief stalled as she watched woman move about, her movements robotic as she slowly, clumsily picked herself up.

  The camera zoomed out, showing her ridged limbs stretching out. She leaned heavily forward as if leaning on an invisible cane. She clumsily shuffled her feet and turned around
.

  As the woman faced the camera, Lena’s jaw dropped. Can this be real? she thought as she watched the figure drag herself forward.

  There was a large gaping hole in the creases of her neck. Her chin rounded down and led into a bloody, gnarled wound, the likes of which Lena had never seen.

  In Afghanistan, she had experienced many horrific things. She had seen men shove tampons into their bullet wounds just to stop the blood flow while others had been carried away with heavy bandages over different limbs.

  Her friend had his leg blown off, and she had seen the bone peeking out from the mangled skin and muscles. She was no stranger to gore. She was strong and had seen many twisted injuries, but nothing like the injury on that woman.

  The camera remained steady as the woman continued walking toward it. Her eyes were like empty holes, and her dilated pupils were like black holes. The woman opened her hanging mouth, but no noise came out. The silent chaos made no sense.

  Lena looked quickly from left to right in a hope of finding some way to watch this newsreel with sound. The nice smelling man beside her intently focused on his phone, and she could see a brief image appear of the same woman on the TV. She leaned in closer, hoping the man would be nice enough to share the screen. He looked her way as she accidentally brushed his shoulder.

  Lena was too interested in the news to itcare about the awkwardness of bumping into him and then hovering. The man tilted the screen so they could see clearly, and he turned the volume up as loud as it would go. Just as Lena had suspected, the woman with the black holes for eyes was screaming a raspy, soul-shaking scream.

  The man beside Lena chewed his lip nervously, and his fingers shook as he held the phone. She couldn’t blame him for his fear. She could hardly believe what she was watching, and she hoped it was a rerun of an old science fiction show. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a coincidence that both the airport TV and the man’s phone were playing identical scenes. As fictional as it looked, she knew it was real.

  In an instant, the camera’s view plummeted, crashing into the gray cement below. The view on the screen was dark, but more screams echoed through the speakers. A low scream pierced the chaos. The man was close to the camera, too close. The camera tilted up again in time to show a man fall. He crumpled in front of the lens and looked directly at the terrified viewers. His eyes pled for help, a vain cry that thousands saw but could do nothing about.