Laboratory #6

Everything started after the dead monkey reanimated, smashed out the glass cage and attacked Dr. Pangilinan. The ear-shattering biocontainment alarm blared moments after the glass cracked. By the time Dr. Lee turned to see what was happening, the creature had exploded into the lab. It leapt onto Pang’s arm, biting deeply, breaking bone. He swung his arm wildly launching the creature across the room. It landed with a meaty thud, slid sideways on the polished floor, and swept the legs out from under a heavy table. The table tipped over, with the edge of its black soapstone desktop crushing the monkey’s skull like a grape. The things body twitched involuntarily for several minutes.

“Carol, turn off that alarm,” grunted Pang, clutching his bloody arm.

Dr. Lee stared at him blankly.

“Dr. Lee, turn off that alarm!” he screamed.

Shaking her head she darted to the wall, flipped the plastic lid and pressed the red button. Silence filled the room, broken only by Pang’s rapid breathing and the drip of some fluid on the far side of the lab.

“Carol, please get the first aid kit,” said Pang. With difficulty he propped himself up against his desk, the ruined arm braced awkwardly in his lap.

Carolyn Lee, PhD virologist, 51 years old, nervously adjusted her wire-framed glasses. The first aid kit was in the coat closet. As always over the last few months she hesitated for a second before entering the closet. Every time she did she thought of that night, that crazy erotic night that upended her mostly happy marriage. But she yanked the door open anyway, grabbed the kit from the shelf and raced back to Pang.

He sat with legs extended, eyes closed, gritting his teeth. The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes were deep ruts as if carved from wood. She squatted and he smiled weakly. “Just use the spray and wrap it in gauze.” He exhaled painfully as the cool antibacterial spray foamed on the open wound. A faint alcohol smell filled the air, whisked away quickly by the negative pressure air vents.

“Drs. Lee and Pangilinan, the biocontainment breach protocol has been activated. You will not be able to leave the laboratory before the cleaners arrive,” droned the voice of Artemis, the security A.I.

Reflexively, they looked at the camera wedged into the top corner of the lab.

Pang leaned back his head, which was still covered in thick salt and pepper hair despite being 60 years old, resting it on his desk. “Okay, we have about twenty minutes before they break down that door.” He winced as pain jumped up his arm. “Damn, this hurts. Anyway, biocontainment protocol means we’re about to enter isolation for a very long time or, well, or something else, more permanent."

Carol stood, looked around at the sterile white walls, the shattered cage, the lifeless body of the monkey and said, pointing across the room, nearly hysterical, “That monkey was dead, okay? I checked it myself! How did that thing escape?!”

Wearily, he responded, “I don’t know, Carol, but it’s a good question. Let me just think for a second. The monkey received version 2.2.33 of regen pathogen R, right?”

Carol frowned as she turned toward him. “Wait, I thought it was supposed to get point 34, not point 33. Are you saying you injected point 33, without cleaning the cage first?”

Pang glowered at her. “Damn it, Carol, this is your fault! Your icy silence is how mistakes like this get made.” He was yelling now, “What happened at Christmas was dumb, but it’s over, okay, at least for me. You should’ve buried your shame or left the lab. Now you may have killed us!”

“Don’t bring that up,” she whispered, shaking her head. The touch of his lips on her neck, the wild intensity of the moment flared up briefly, but she pushed it back down. “We don’t have time for that.”

“Ah, whatever” he said, waving his arms dismissively.

She moved to her computer to review the data. The monkey died two hours before the attack. All of the measurements were accurate. Leaning back in her chair she swiveled and looked at the primate’s corpse. Could it have been in a vegetative state rather than dead? I guess anything is possible. She grabbed a scalpel and a box of clear glass microscope slides. Only one way to find out.

She stepped over Pang’s legs. He rested. Soft snoring accentuated his uneasy sleep. The broken and infected arm was swollen and black, tightening around the sleeve of his lab coat.

Carol stooped to sample the dead monkey after putting on plastic gloves. The thing lay in a pool of dark red blood and brain fragments. She gagged at the smell of putrefaction that wafted over her when she lifted the arm. Suddenly, the monkey’s hand curled and scratched the side of her palm. She screamed, yanked her hand away and stumbled over backwards. The claw had penetrated the thin barrier of the glove and nicked the skin. A tiny drop of blood oozed out.

After washing her hands with warm, soapy water she taped gauze to the wound.

Pang squinted his eyes against the fluorescent lights and said, “Hey, what was that scream? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I just tried to get some blood from that thing and it twitched and scratched me. It burns like crazy.”

“How long was I out?”

“Maybe a few minutes, not long, but listen, I’ve been thinking. Let’s assume that thing was actually dead. Not deeply unconscious or anything like that, but dead. Think about what just happened. I mean, it came back to life. Are you following me?”

Pang stared at her intently, “Yes.”

She perched on the edge of the desk next to Pang. “But this wasn’t regeneration, this was something else. That, that, thing was no monkey anymore. It was vicious, hostile, like totally insane.”

He nodded his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, so what do you think is going on?”

“Well, we’re talking about two hours from death to whatever happened. We inoculated the monkey roughly twelve hours before it died. The speed that it transformed is astonishing. I mean it’s ten times faster than anything we’ve seen.” She paused, bit the inside of her check, and continued more softly, "What if you’re infected? What if its bite transmitted it to you? I mean, look at your arm.”

His blackened fingers were round as sausages. The lab coat sleeve was so tense the seams in his shoulder were bulging. A foul sulfur smell clung to his body.

Pang looked from his arm to Carol. “You’re right,” he said quietly.

A loud bang shook the lab, jarring them. Light dust drifted from the ceiling. Carol raced to the door to look through the circular glass window. “They’re at the outer security door. They blew it off its hinges! What is going on?”

“Come here, Carol, quickly. This may sound crazy, but I think I know what we have to do. We can’t risk infecting those guards.” He paused, and then looked her hard in the eyes. “You’ve got to kill me before the pathogen does.”

She shook her head in horror. “Please, Pang, no. Don’t say that.”

“Stop it and just listen to me! If you’re right, and I think you are, I’m already dead. It’ll be easy.” He hooked his thumb on his necklace, pulling out a squat metal key and inserted it into the bottom drawer of his desk. He scooted over several inches to give the drawer room to open. Inside was a gray steel box containing several loaded syringes. Carol noticed a photograph of her tucked in the back. It was from a Christmas card. Pang had folded it in half, so her husband was not visible. They both pretended not to see it.

“These are filled mostly with potassium chloride, but also with a sedative and something that paralyzes muscle. This dose will work, trust me, it would put down a rhino. The thing is it has to be injected intravenously, so, I can’t do it myself.” He handed her a couple syringes and said, “Please, Carol, before it’s too late.”

Without thinking she grabbed the two syringes, checked the caps were securely in place, and backed away. They felt heavy in her hand, foreign, dangerous. “I don’t know if I can do that, Nathan.”

Another explosion rocked the lab, this time closer than before. Pang panted, breathing heavily as he spoke. “They just have to get through the door in lab #5 and they’ll be here. If this new pathogen is like the others it cannot survive outside a living host for more than 8 minutes. Please, Carol, you must do it quickly.”

She backed up numbly and bumped into her desk, absently dropping the syringes on the table top. As she sat in the swivel seat, she interlaced her fingers and tried to think. Could I murder Pang? No way. This is crazy. What if he’s wrong? We might not even be infected. I’m not killing anyone.

In desperation she prayed a Hail Mary, and as she did Pang’s body slid quietly to the floor. Just then the shoulder seam popped open, revealing blackened skin covered with coarse hair. His eyes stared blankly. The cowlick in front of his hair line stood defiantly upright.

Her first reaction was relief. Maybe the shame of their encounter could finally begin to heal. She thought of her husband waiting up for her that night. He could see something was wrong. “What happened?” he asked. The intense, forbidden excitement had been followed by profound emptiness, darkness, a deep well of self-loathing. What have I done, she asked herself over and over. She looked at him and said, “Nothing.”

She turned away from Pang’s body, disgusted. The cut on her hand throbbed, so she pressed her other palm against it.

Bang, bang, bang!

Carol jumped at the pounding on the door. Several men in full battle gear stood looking at her through the window. The laser pointer from one of the machine guns shone through the window and was fixed on her chest. She turned slowly, raising her hands, “I’m not armed.”

“Stay back!” one of them commanded, his voice muffled by the thick door and his breathing apparatus. This was followed in rapid succession by, “Breaching door!” and then, “Clear!” and then an explosion. The door flung open as the charge detonated, filling the lab with smoke.

She collapsed down into a ball, squatting on the balls of her feet, arms clasped over her head. Glancing back through the acrid smoke she saw a soldier standing inside the lab with a machine gun pointed at her. The muzzle looked enormous and lethal. Heart pounding, mouth dry, she froze.

Suddenly, she heard a guttural noise behind her. The soldier screamed, “Stay down!”

She turned to see Pang’s reanimated body standing, glaring at her with bloodshot eyes. The hostility in his gaze, the utter hate, was terrifying. She tasted acid in the back of her mouth and a liquid emptiness in her stomach.

The laser sight flew from her chest to Pang’s. Three quick shots, pop pop pop, penetrated him in a tight cluster, right above his heart. His body flew backwards, skidding to a halt next to the monkey.

Now in shock, mouth agape, Carol looked back at the soldier. Two lasers were centered on her heart. Pop pop pop. She was dead before she hit the floor.

“Sergeant Bryant, bag the bodies, including the monkey, and burn the lab. Bring the bodies to the quarantine morgue,” said Artemis.

“Roger that,” replied the sergeant.

It took approximately seventy eight hours before the first zombie escaped from the facility.