The New Haven Incident - Part Thirteen

It was late in the evening, with the sun fully set, when Harding called Mendez into what had become the operations room.

“Any luck with comms?” Mendez asked as he entered, rolling his right shoulder in an effort to ease the ache that had settled there from carrying his rifle.

Harding shook his head. “By my watch,” he said, “Team Four should have entered and secured the entrance to the laboratory by now. They’ll be waiting on us. We need to get moving.”

“Not now, surely?”

Again, Harding shook his head. “No. First thing in the morning. But that does mean we’ll need to split up the survivors. Dr. Lundt is the ranking researcher. It’s her we’ll need to get in to the most sensitive areas of the facility; and she may not have all the clearances.”

“Pity Reinhert wasn’t with the survivors,” Sakata said. He’d read the briefing carefully. Dr. Howard Reinhert was the only one with access to the whole facility. He was especially important to Cedarwood; and was the only researcher named as rescue at all costs. The captain wondered what secrets Cedarwood was trying to recover that they were willing to sacrifice the other researchers if only Reinhert could make it out.

“It might be that he’s still in the lab,” Harding said.

“The lab was ground zero,” Mendez pointed out.

Shrugging, Harding said, “They have lockdown protocols. There might be a number of survivors down there, trapped in a safe room or something. We don’t know. In fact, we don’t know anything about what we might be walking into. We can’t raise any of the other teams. One and Four can’t make their report. We don’t know if five and six have managed to secure the evacuation zone. Nothing.” Harding rubbed the side of his face with a calloused palm. “Team Three’s communications equipment is also non-functional. Rin noted something that has me uneasy.”

Mendez raised his eyebrows at Sakata.

“It’s not a coincidence that both of our comms units failed,” Sakata said. “We tested ours before we went out. You tested yours. Both were functioning at commencement.”

“So… what?” Mendez asked. “You think they’re being jammed. Like, deliberately?”

Sakata nodded and Mendez turned to his captain. “Harding?”

Captain Harding shrugged at his friend. “It seems like the only logical explanation.”

“Who the fuck would do that?”

There was no answer to that question, so Harding simply turned and stared out at the dead city. “It changes nothing,” he noted. “We have a mission to complete, and we’ll do it. We proceed as planned, under the assumption the other teams are doing the same, until we learn otherwise. But I don’t like going into anything blind. This Agent Connors might know a thing or two. I suspect he’s been involved in Cedarwood’s business a couple of times now.” Harding turned back to his warrant officer. “You’re good with people, Mendez. I need you to find out what that man knows, if anything. Our lives could depend on it.”

“That might be something of a problem,” Mendez noted after a long silence and then a sigh. “I.. uh… I attempted to make friends before and it didn’t go so well.”

“Fix it.”

“I mean… I’ll try. No promises, though. He doesn’t strike me as the particularly forgiving type.”

Harding nodded. He knew the type well enough. “You’ll think of something.” He glanced over at Carter, who remained diligently twisting knobs and pressing buttons on the comms unit, trying to get any kind of signal. “Best get some sleep, my friend,” he said to Mendez. “It’s going to be a long, tough one this time.”

“Yeah,” Mendez replied. He turned towards the door and paused. “You too, Harding.” When Harding raised an eyebrow at him, Mendez flashed him a grin. “You’re grumpy as fuck when you’re tired.”

“Get out,” Harding said, though his voice was coloured with the threat of a laugh.

His grin broadening, Mendez strode from the room.

The dusk welcomed a warm silence that settled over the room as darkness fell. In an effort to keep themselves hidden, Captains Harding and Sakata forbade the use of light. Dr. Liu’s insistence with Sakata on their first meeting had left a definite impression on the captain, and convinced Harding there must have been a good reason for it.

This left Carter in the difficult position of attempting to get the communications up with nothing but moonlight to aid him. He struggled for an hour before Sakata ordered him to retire to find some sleep.

Mendez took up position guarding the survivors. They huddled together, with small groups curled into each other. Dr. Liu and Lilith were joined by Cheryl and Dr. Lundt, with Hannah curled up between the two women, clutching her stuffed toy close. It was a gentle, sweet reminder of the light of humanity in the midst of the darkness of a city awash with infection and death.

Casting one last look at Sebastian, who had settled on the ground, his back against the eastern wall, still awake and looking out over the city, Mendez closed his eyes and let himself doze.

Reduced to a group of six, they followed Cedarwood Police Sergeant Adams and Officer Connors through the storm drains as quietly as they could.

Connors had long gotten used to the stink —it could be worse. At least it wasn’t the sewers— and concentrated on making sure the civilians had help over every obstacle they confronted. Most of them were strangers, fleeing to the precinct in the hopes of finding salvation. All they got was more infected and a police building under siege. Of the group, he knew only two; and not well at that. Sergeant Adams, of course. Then there was Penny, the receptionist. She worked for the Cedarwood City Police Department, but was not a policewoman - civilian liaison, they called the arrangement. It was an effort by CCPD to clean up their image. She was twenty; just two years his junior. She had been the first to greet him on his first day with her disarmingly bright smile and pretty brown curls. He was smitten from the beginning.

Their flight from the precinct had not done anything to dampen that first impression. Penny was smart, brave and resourceful, and she trusted Adams and him; showing that trust in doing what was asked without hesitation. She seemed so calm that he found himself jealous; feeling a twinge of inadequacy as he fought back his own terror.

Glancing back, Penny caught his eye and offered a small smile. She was still so pretty, despite the smear of dirt across one cheek. Her pencil skirt had torn a slit all the way up to her hip in their flight from the precinct when it became overrun with the infected. The matching blazer had been lost a long time ago, dragged off her by a too-close encounter with a group of particularly aggressive Shamblers.

Adams leapt across a gap along the service catwalk as the rats beneath fought over whatever scraps had washed into the drains during the last storm. He turned, waving each of the survivors over. Sebastian stood aside and helped everyone get a little more distance on their jump before following, the last one to cross. He very nearly lost his footing, wheeling his arms comically as he felt his body fall back. His sergeant grabbed the front of his Kevlar vest and pulled him back onto solid footing.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

Adams offered nothing save a small smile. The smile vanished in an instant as the now-familiar sound of a strangled grunt echoed down the tunnel. It was impossible to tell which direction it came from.

Swallowing back a choice curse, Sebastian unholstered his weapon, following his sergeant’s lead. They could not change course now. Going back the way they came would only run them right into a large group of Infected. Forward was the only way to go. Swallowing back their fear, the group moved cautiously.

There were no junctions, so no one was expecting the attack.

It came through the grate that blocked off a smaller tunnel which led up to street level. Clawed hands flashed through the grate, grabbing Penny by the waist. She screamed as the thing pulled, slamming her against the grate. Sebastian ran to her, taking her arm as he raised his gun to fire at the thing behind the grate. It was not a Shambler. It was bigger, bulkier, with oversized clawed hands and a flat head on a squat neck. The bullets did nothing. They hit the hulking shape, sending a small spray of blood into the air each time, but it was as if the creature couldn’t even feel it.

He was no match for the thing’s strength. It slammed Penny repeatedly against the grate, though he did his best to stop it. Each time, Penny cried out in pain. Her cries became screams as the clawed hands dug into her abdomen. The scream was cut off by the choking glut of blood that filled her throat and erupted from her mouth.

“No!” he barked, firing more bullets. “Penny!”

Penny’s large grey eyes turned to him. Tears fell down her cheeks even as they lost their light. She was going to die, and she knew it. He shook his head. No. He wouldn’t let it happen.

Yet, for all his intentions, he could do nothing. The next slam was the last. Penny’s battered body gave way. He watched in horror as she disappeared, her body crumpling with sickening wet crunches, passing through the grate a lacerated pulp. Her head would not fit and so came off her shoulders, eyes still open, mouth wide in a scream that never found the air. It dropped to the catwalk, part of her spine trailing, and rolled off into the shallow water below where it was set upon by delighted rats. Sebastian, having lost the tug-of-war fell backwards at the sudden lack of resistance. Penny’s arm was still in his grip.

There was no time to stop, no time for grief. Sergeant Adams hauled him up by his shoulders and propelled him forward.

“Run, Connors!” the sergeant barked.

Mendez’ eyes snapped open. There had been a sound, perhaps, or a movement that jolted him from his sleep. He wasn’t sure which. His eyes, unfocussed from disturbed sleep, first alighted on Hannah as the young girl made her way across the floor, rubbing her eye sleepily and dragging her toy by its bizarre foot, its long, noodley arms dragging behind like a demented train. Mendez watched as she made her way to the room in which Agent Connors slept. She paused at the door.

Sebastian had fallen asleep sitting up, his back still against the wall. But it was a troubled sleep. Mendez watched as he twitched, sometimes quite violently. Hannah had, wisely, not approached the agent. She stood, instead, at the door and watched.

The nightmare jerked Sebastian awake. He rolled up and crouched in a fighting stance, his combat knife in his hand. He had moved so quickly and smoothly, Mendez didn’t see him unsheathe it. Tensing, Mendez pulled his rifle up, ready to point and shoot should the agent, in his current state, mistake the child at the door for a threat.

Sebastian panted, feeling the trickle of sweat run down his back. The same fear that made his skin damp had his heart racing. He scanned the scene in front of him, confused. This was not the storm drain. He was in a room; a room high up, with floor to wall windows that overlooked a city. On one side was an empty costume rack, equally empty hangers sitting forlornly on the crossbar.

It took him a moment to realise that he was no longer in Cedarwood City. He wasn’t a cop starting his second week at his job. It wasn’t his birthday. Closing his eyes a moment, centring himself with some breathing, Sebastian became aware of a presence on his left. He turned to it.

“Hannah?”

The dark-haired girl smiled at Sebastian; a sleepy smile that was strangely sad. “Can I come in now?” she asked.

Sebastian stared at her, incredulous, before grunting. He rocked back so that he was back on his butt, his back against the wall. Sliding his knife back into the sheath at his left shoulder, he nodded.

“If you want, but—”

Hannah didn’t let him finish. She skipped forward, then wrapped her tiny arms around his neck. Startled, Sebastian tensed. He must have looked as confused as he felt, because Hannah giggled when she pulled away and looked at him.

“I get bad dreams too,” she said. “Ever since Momma died.” She thrust out a hand in which her strange, ugly stuffed toy was held. “This is Claudio.”

“Okay… Hi Claudio.”

Hannah wiggled him a bit, a silent command to take the toy. Sebastian did, hesitantly. He propped the thing on his lap and stared down at it. It grinned up at him with a lopsided, pointy-toothed smile in its almost-round face. Large eyes made the face look cute, rather than grotesque, as the shape of its body would suggest. Tiny legs stuck out of the bottom, little more than soft nubs. Its arms, however, were overly long and noodley. Sebastian made the hands flail by twitching those long, thin arms where they connected to the body.

“He’s a very good listener,” Hannah explained. “When I’m sad or afraid, I whisper everything that has made me sad or scared. He makes it feel better. And he’s very good at keeping secrets.”

Sebastian smiled. He lifted Claudio to return it to Hannah, but the little girl shook her head.

“Keep him tonight,” she said. “I have Aunties Cheryl and Joy. And Lilith. I don’t need him as much.”

For a moment, Sebastian simply stared at Hannah, holding Claudio out. He wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t need a stuffed toy, obviously, but he also didn’t want to hurt Hannah’s feelings. Deciding he’d rather hold a useless thing for a night than see the child upset, he lowered the toy back into his lap. He stared down at it a while, examining the features.

“You know, he’s kinda cute,” he said softly. He looked up at Hannah. “Thank you.”

Smiling, Hannah nodded. She leant in and gave Sebastian a chaste peck on the cheek. “Good night,” she said.

“Goodnight, Hannah.” Sebastian watched Hannah walk out of the door before turning his attention back to the soft lump of dubious design in his lap. He played with it a moment longer, a small, vaguely amused smile hovering on the edges of his lips.

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