The Reaper Virus by Nathan Barnes Read Free Book Online Page A

one
more night to get through and we could either leave town or enjoy a
campout in the house.
    She backed down after I showed her my
survival pack – Kukri included. It also helped that she knew I was
going to a building filled with trained marksmen. I’d decided to
trade in my shiny dress shoes for my police-grade combat boots. I
loved those things and I’d barely worn them. They were an
unreturned leftover from the police academy. Call it a consolation
prize if you must.
     
    * * *
     
    2334 hours:
     
    Every mile that brought me closer to work
made me want to turn around a little more. In fact, I probably would have if there were fewer cars going
the other direction. The unusual thing about the traffic wasn’t
that there was a lot of it, but that it was going in both directions. It gave me the impression that
everyone was trying to run away – yet no one really knew where to
run.
    Even though traffic was moderate around the
parking deck it was fairly barren on the inside. It reminded me of
parking over a holiday weekend. I parked at my preferred spot on
the Academic Parking Deck, without incident. For years I’d always
parked my car on the second level, far northwest corner, with a
good view overlooking Broad Street. The deck was six levels and
backed up to our building with an alley separating the two. We had
three back doors leading to the various sections of our department,
all sealed with a maglock backed by a generator. Our door wasn’t
labeled and was easy enough to sneak in and out of - assuming there
wasn’t a line of patrol cars parked in the alley.
    After surveying the area I decided things
looked active, but not violent or anything. It reminded me of Broad
Street on New Year’s Eve. I debated bringing my survival pack
inside. It was usually frowned upon to bring a large machete-style
knife into a police station, employee or not, so siding with my
responsible side, I left the pack in my trunk. I hoped it was the
right decision this time around.
    Walking down the twenty-eight concrete steps
and the hundred feet or so to the back middle door I took a moment
to observe my surroundings. Looking around at the moderate activity
I tried to put myself at ease. I didn’t see any obviously infected
people. There had been days with busier traffic than this. Then I
walked inside.
    Think of a hornets’ nest after some kid poked
it with a stick. It was a flurry of activity, none of it as
organized as a para-military organization should be. My stomach
sank for the second time in as many hours. Both doors to the
read-off room were closed, always a sign that something big was
going on. Walking down the long hallway to dispatch I expected to
hear more activity. After going through the thick wooden doors I
was perplexed to find things more on the quiet side.
    The student escort service, which was
essentially a free taxi for ungrateful students/staff, had been
suspended indefinitely. I’m told it was an order that came from the
university president in an attempt to quell any spread of the
virus.
    On top of that, all classes had been
cancelled. The university was locked up tight; essential personnel
were the only employees required to report. This of course meant
us.

Chapter 4
Before Sunrise
     
    Day Seven.
    November 16th – 0019 hours:
     
    I was feverishly going through every news site I
could find, hoping and praying that what I was reading wasn’t true.
It was breaking news – no pictures, at least none discernable.
Direct from the Louisville, Kentucky NBC Affiliate:
    “ We’re still waiting on
final confirmation from the FAA, however, preliminary reports
indicate that a Delta Airlines Boeing 747-400 has crashed. The
plane has engulfed the downtown business district immediately south
of the Ohio River. Unconfirmed sources state that the aircraft was
attempting to make an emergency landing at the Louisville
International Airport located almost seven miles south of downtown.
These reports state that the plane