Free Dead and Dead Again: Kansas City Quarantine by Dalton Wolf

progression.”
    “Can you clone something from
scratch?”
    “I don’t know. I have all of the
data from the source on a disk here. We confiscated it from the lab where it
was developed. I won’t know until I get there and see what is on the disc.”
    “Where’s there?”
    “Excuse me?”
    “You said ‘until I get there’,”
Tripper reminded him. “Where is there?”
    “Oh. Protocol says I go to the
National Bio and Agro Defense Facility. It’s the closest facility to here.”
    “You mean the Biosecurity Research
Institute in Manhattan Kansas?”
    “It is the same place, yes.”
    “I thought that facility wasn’t
finished yet…I mean how could it be, they just started construction a few months
ago?”
    “That’s just the above ground
facility.”
    “What?”
    “That’s just the new parts.”
    “What new parts?”
    “The stuff for show. Construction
on the underground facilities began six years ago. The main structure has been
completed for two years and newer sections will be added over several decades,
I imagine.”
    “Didn’t they need Congressional
approval or something for that place?”
    “That was just for the funding. But
you might have noticed that when National Security is at stake, the government
moves first and worries about funding later.”
    “So you appropriated the money from
elsewhere?”
    “You’re most astute for a stoner,
Mr. Tripper,” the doctor commented.
    Trip looked over in shock. “How’d
you—?”
    “You are about to lose your
baggie,” the doctor nodded suggestively at Trip’s left pocket.
    Trip reached down and tucked El
Supremo back in with a silent whew.
    “Don’t worry. I was just kidding
about the stoner crack. I judge each person as I meet them, by their deeds. You
have proven your worth to me a dozen times already.
    “Thanks, Doc. Your shooting has
done that for me.” He paused and grinned.
    “Let’s get inside.”
    “Wait, Sarah should have a great
view of the surrounding area from the balcony. Is it clear?” he shouted around
the corner and across the street.
    “Still clear!” She called back.
“Hurry, there are faster ones approaching from several blocks to the west. A lot of them.”
    “They should mix well with the ones
coming from the south,” Trip replied, and the two men looked west to see what
she was talking about.
    “Are we sure those aren’t people
people?” Tripper asked with some hesitation.
    “Two of the ones in front are
missing arms. If they’re not Infected yet, they will be shortly…maybe”
    It looked like a race. Some kind of
sick, surreal Marathon where the prize wasn’t some blue ribbon, or even the
knowledge of having finished the near impossible. No, the prize in this race
was food. Flesh. Human flesh. Those approaching Infected weren’t quiet
like the others, either. Moving at a slow jog, they moaned and hooted, braying
like a pack of hunting dogs—a pack of really lazy hunting dogs.
    “What the…” Trip started, but
realized they could investigate better from safety. “Follow me,” he nudged the
doctor.
    “The doors are right here,” the
doctor pointed.
    “No, that’s just the side entrance.
She’s locked it already.”
    The pair edged along the building,
a classical two-story white-stone structure with windows six feet up running at
eight foot intervals with a carved face over each one. Along the sidewalk at
street level the building was peppered with squat windows with glass too thick
to see clearly into and each protected with heavy iron bars bolted firmly into
the walls. Upon reaching the front doors, they slowed and the doctor
affectionately eyed a pair of iron sconces book-ending the opening of the
entryway, appreciating the class it took to inset little flower gardens into
the sidewalk on either side. A glance above revealed Mozart Insurance Company on
a black sign with brilliant gold letters. Just below that a more permanent
‘Library’ had been carved into the original surface of the