Zombie Fallout 3: THE END .... by Mark Tufo, Monique Happy, Zelio Vogta Read Free Book Online Page B
walked over to BT's bedside. He tapped on BT's intravenous bag. "I gave him enough sedative to keep him asleep for another eight hours."
"You know those things can talk to each other right?" BT said panicked. "Tell him Talbot."
"Lawrence, they can do no such thing." The Doc said as he plunged another hypodermic into BT's IV line. "The virus burns so hot in humans that it virtually wipes clear all higher brain functioning, like a magnet to a hard drive."
"Talbot!?" BT pleaded.
"Doc, they aren't hard drives." I said. "I'm not saying that they have conversations, but they have the ability to communicate somehow. They know when prey is available and they have a pack mentality. They know when to converge or even to diverge if a more readily available food source comes into play."
"These are all interesting theories, Mike," the Doc said with a small slice of condescension on top.
I could tell he was about to start rambling on with a myriad of explanations and reasons why this couldn't be true. I didn't give him the chance.
"How many battles you been in Doc?"
"That’s not the point."
"The hell it isn't Doc. How much about a wolf's behavior could you learn from him if all you knew was from a caged specimen."
"I understand the analogy Mike, I really do. But I am telling you that the host brain is quite literally liquefied from the experience."
"You said the host brain."
The Doc paused.
"Good one Talbot!" BT said barely able to muster a thumbs-up under the assault of the newly added sedative.
CHAPTER EIGHT - JOURNAL ENTRY 4 -
I don't know if the Doc didn't like my answer or was just done talking, he plunged a sedative into my IV line. Unlike BT, I was out in seconds. I slept wonderfully. No visions of Heaven or Tommy's playland. I think I dreamt something about the New York Giants playing the Red Sox in the World Bowl and somehow the Boston Bruins came out on top. Don’t judge me, you know you've had weirder dreams. I was graciously accepting Lord Stanley's Turkey Platter when I was rudely shoved awake.
"Michael B. Talbot, are you awake?"
"Fucking am, now." I don’t wake up very well. I wanted to sit up a little straighter when I noticed who had pulled me out of dreamland. This guy had more ribbons and shiny shit on his uniform than I had ever seen.
"Michael B. Talbot, I am Lt. Colonel Byron Fox, 1st Marine Corps Air Station."
"Little far from home Colonel?" I asked. First MCAS was at one time stationed in Hawaii, probably not anymore.
The Colonel did not even acknowledge my comment as he threw out his own question. "Doctor Baker came to see me a few hours ago with some disturbing new details about our enemy. What can you tell me?"
"How much time you got?" I asked him.
"I have to be in a briefing with the base commander at 1830, so about an hour."
Great, this guy was about as dry as toast. He grilled me for the entire hour, ringing out every iota of minutiae he could garner. He must have been a supply commander. I glossed over Eliza for the time being. I don't know why, maybe I was afraid that he would kick my family and me out if he knew we were being targeted. The Marine Corps is all about the greater good, sacrifice of the one for the many. I just wanted to make sure that my family was not the 'ONE.'
He knew I wasn't giving him everything but not from lack of trying. He would ask the same questions just with different wordings. More than once I had to stop and sort through all the 'half-truths' I had told him and make sure that I was consistent. I was exhausted after our verbal sparring, another half hour and I might have admitted to creating the tainted shots.
"We'll talk more." The colonel said as he abruptly rose and walked out of the room.
"Why didn't you tell him Mike?" BT asked.
BT startled the crap out of me. I had to remember that I did not have this room to myself.
"Shit, BT don’t you sleep?"
"Only when I want to. Something about this place has me on edge. Obviously you feel the same or
"You know those things can talk to each other right?" BT said panicked. "Tell him Talbot."
"Lawrence, they can do no such thing." The Doc said as he plunged another hypodermic into BT's IV line. "The virus burns so hot in humans that it virtually wipes clear all higher brain functioning, like a magnet to a hard drive."
"Talbot!?" BT pleaded.
"Doc, they aren't hard drives." I said. "I'm not saying that they have conversations, but they have the ability to communicate somehow. They know when prey is available and they have a pack mentality. They know when to converge or even to diverge if a more readily available food source comes into play."
"These are all interesting theories, Mike," the Doc said with a small slice of condescension on top.
I could tell he was about to start rambling on with a myriad of explanations and reasons why this couldn't be true. I didn't give him the chance.
"How many battles you been in Doc?"
"That’s not the point."
"The hell it isn't Doc. How much about a wolf's behavior could you learn from him if all you knew was from a caged specimen."
"I understand the analogy Mike, I really do. But I am telling you that the host brain is quite literally liquefied from the experience."
"You said the host brain."
The Doc paused.
"Good one Talbot!" BT said barely able to muster a thumbs-up under the assault of the newly added sedative.
CHAPTER EIGHT - JOURNAL ENTRY 4 -
I don't know if the Doc didn't like my answer or was just done talking, he plunged a sedative into my IV line. Unlike BT, I was out in seconds. I slept wonderfully. No visions of Heaven or Tommy's playland. I think I dreamt something about the New York Giants playing the Red Sox in the World Bowl and somehow the Boston Bruins came out on top. Don’t judge me, you know you've had weirder dreams. I was graciously accepting Lord Stanley's Turkey Platter when I was rudely shoved awake.
"Michael B. Talbot, are you awake?"
"Fucking am, now." I don’t wake up very well. I wanted to sit up a little straighter when I noticed who had pulled me out of dreamland. This guy had more ribbons and shiny shit on his uniform than I had ever seen.
"Michael B. Talbot, I am Lt. Colonel Byron Fox, 1st Marine Corps Air Station."
"Little far from home Colonel?" I asked. First MCAS was at one time stationed in Hawaii, probably not anymore.
The Colonel did not even acknowledge my comment as he threw out his own question. "Doctor Baker came to see me a few hours ago with some disturbing new details about our enemy. What can you tell me?"
"How much time you got?" I asked him.
"I have to be in a briefing with the base commander at 1830, so about an hour."
Great, this guy was about as dry as toast. He grilled me for the entire hour, ringing out every iota of minutiae he could garner. He must have been a supply commander. I glossed over Eliza for the time being. I don't know why, maybe I was afraid that he would kick my family and me out if he knew we were being targeted. The Marine Corps is all about the greater good, sacrifice of the one for the many. I just wanted to make sure that my family was not the 'ONE.'
He knew I wasn't giving him everything but not from lack of trying. He would ask the same questions just with different wordings. More than once I had to stop and sort through all the 'half-truths' I had told him and make sure that I was consistent. I was exhausted after our verbal sparring, another half hour and I might have admitted to creating the tainted shots.
"We'll talk more." The colonel said as he abruptly rose and walked out of the room.
"Why didn't you tell him Mike?" BT asked.
BT startled the crap out of me. I had to remember that I did not have this room to myself.
"Shit, BT don’t you sleep?"
"Only when I want to. Something about this place has me on edge. Obviously you feel the same or
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