Free Outbreak (Book 1): Emerald City by Jay K. Anthony Page B

you’ll see it.” Clark followed the cook’s directions and soon heard the methodical sound of gunfire. Clark knew very little about shooting guns. He had played some video games back before the outbreak, but he had never understood the obsession. In college, his friends would rather hole up in their dorm rooms, virtually killing each other, when there were college girls out in the world looking for guys exactly like them. As he reached the shooting range, he saw a lone, muscle bound soldier with his hat on backward. The soldier was shooting a small compact machine gun at little paper targets that were no more than a few feet away from him. Doesn’t look like much of a challenge, Clark thought.
    Clark stood back and watched for a few minutes as the soldier went through some kind of drill where he would shoot multiple single shots at the targets. Clark had to admit, the soldier was fast, efficient, and definitely knew what he was doing. Once the soldier finished the drill, Clark saw his opening.
    “Excuse me,” Clark said. “I understand you were the guy to bring in the patient who had been infected, but not turned?”
    The soldier gave his machine gun a quick look over and then set it down on a wooden table. He had the name Rocha stenciled on his uniform. “You mean the guy with the bite in the side of his head?” he asked.
    “That would be the one,” Clark agreed. “You bring him in?”
    “Damn straight,” Rocha said. “Who are you?”
    “Dr. Clark Mason,” Clark replied and stuck his hand out. “Brain surgeon.”
    Rocha shook Clark’s hand. Clark could not believe the size of the soldier’s fist. It completely dwarfed his own.
    “Rocha,” the soldier said and let Clark’s hand go. He pulled out his canteen and took a drink. “What can I do for you?”
    “I’m not sure, exactly,” Clark said. There was a sudden break in the overcast sky and rays of sunlight streamed through. Clark held a hand up to shield his eyes. “What can you tell me about the guy you brought in?”
    Rocha turned his hat around to shade his eyes. “Probably a lot of things,” he said.
    Clark waited for Rocha to continue, but there was only an uncomfortable pause. “So,” Clark said. “Where did you find him?”
    “Hospital,” Rocha said and took a breath. “Command had received intel that there were survivors holed up in the big facility over on the coast of the Sound. So, we geared up and caught a chopper into town. We fast roped to the roof, went inside, and started clearing floors. I would say we got down through about half of the building when we came across a laboratory kind of place with cages and shit.”
    Clark thought about the hospital. He was not surprised laboratories had been set up in the civilian sector. As the virus was storming across the country last fall, all funds for research were redirected to finding a cure, or at least something to try to slow down the spread of the infection. “Did you find any documentation or anything?” Clark asked.
    “There was a whole bunch of computers, papers and stuff, but our mission was to extract the survivors,” Rocha said.
    “Any chance you will be going back?” Clark asked.
    “I figured you were going to ask that,” Rocha said rubbing his chin. “Orders come from Command. Talk to my superiors. I go where they send me.” Clark made a mental note to talk to General Dodge.
    Rocha took another drink from his canteen. “You some kind of lurker expert or something?” he asked.
    “Lurker?” Clark asked.
    “Yeah,” Rocha said. “You know. Walking stiffs? Zombies? Lurkers. You been studying them or what?”
    “Kind of,” Clark said. “Why do you ask?”
    Rocha paused for a second. “I have a theory I have been working on,” he said. “So, seriously. You an expert?”
    Clark looked around. He was stuck on a military base in the middle of an apocalypse. At that moment, he quite possibly knew more about the disease than any other living soul in the state