Monday, December 31, 2012

1.9.0 End of Days

Cheyenne Mountain Complex, CO

It was three days after Christmas. Doctor Samuel Gordon Chase was made honorary guest and brought to the Air Force Base for the revealing of his Quantum Wormhole Catalyst. As a precaution they kept it away from Dr. Chase during its construction. His reputation preceded him. 

But Samuel was no beast, he knew the only way to do this properly would be to wait until all the pieces were in line. The Tachyon Resonator was different; he needed to know what it felt like to be in the midst of the tachyons. He must understand the course fully before he travels it. 

Since he could not make it himself, Samuel could not wait to see his designs in real life. According to the people at the base it was just as portable as the Resonator and the Time Collider, and they were all three being analyzed to fully optimize their integration with the air-space vessel they were developing specifically for this mission. 

Samuel walked around the assembly hall with the General after the presentation and met the members of the secret government sector. One of the men he met was a Lieutenant Atticus Roth, two years out of flight school and he was recruited to start the pilot program for space/time travel. General Saarsgard made sure to tell Samuel that this was going to be his first pick. 

Atticus Roth was the best pilot the military’s seen in over ten years. He can keep conscious at over 9 g’s and hasn’t had the opportunity to be tested any further by modern technology, until now… Atticus greeted the now infamous Dr. Samuel Gordon Chase who turned out to be a friendly regular guy. During the conversation General Saarsgard coughed a lot.

“You know they got a thing for that now…a supplement.” Dr. Chase suggested, “I don’t personally believe in it, but anything's worth a try these days.”

It was not late. Everyone seemed to be leaving the cocktail hour and not coming back. When Samuel caught wind of it he followed a soldier out of the assembly room. He caught up to him and found out there was a crisis happening in Washington D.C. 

The soldier led Samuel to a TV where the others were gathered. From the network news the crisis was shrouded in mystery. Thousands of people were dying from what appeared to be the super-flu or the swine-flu. Whatever it was it killed quick, fever coming over them rapidly until it was untreatable and fatal. 

Some treatments even seemed to make the fever worse. It didn’t make any sense. The news teams were blatantly confused, giving conflicting stories about the epidemic. Samuel had enough of cable news and searched around for a military broadcast channel. 

 He pushed the MP aside and brought a browser up on the computer, tapping into a Pentagon stream…all facts verified…the speakers flickered on, once the people die from the fever their corpse re-animates, repeat, fevered corpses come back to life... 

People around him gasped. Trained professionals brought to tears and turned into the petrified pedestrians hanging on every last reported word. Samuel could not believe his ears. The information continued…

…There is no part of the reanimated dead that is still human. Just like the ghouls of ancient folklore commonly known as zombies, the undead only show two functions…walking and eating, so far field examinations have concluded there is little to no pulse and no breathing…

...There is no reason determined yet but all the dead eat is living flesh, repeat, the walking dead will try to bite you. Experts have only really concluded in one area of agreement...

...It's a scientific phenomenon...

A break in the reporting gave Samuel a chance to think. The man broadcasting sounded desperate, as if he was trying to get all the intel out before people could begin to doubt him. Samuel listened carefully, the man on the radio wasn’t desperate…he was scared. To Samuel's dismay that conclusion proved there was no way in the world this was a government ruse.  

...The outbreak first sprang up mostly between Virginia and Maryland, our nation’s capital before thousands of cases poured in around every major city on the east coast and over to Ohio.  So far there is nothing besides this to indicate a lead to the source right now. 

They had to concentrate on containing it.

...If the virus is not stopped in the next seventy-two hours the entire country will be compromised…

There was no way to tell if it was terrorists. The contagion was not only being transferred through bites and scratches but it was in some everyday household item that people were buying in stores. 

…The bodies have to be permanently put down by severing the brain-stem and examined in order to help trace it back to patient zero…

Once they could identify a source that might lower the rate of infection. But it was too late for that. The dead were hungry and were going after the living. 

If you are bit, you are contaminated. There is no doubt. In a couple of hours the infection from the bite will kill the victim and raise them from the dead creating a hostile out of a fallen friendly...

The broadcaster might have been getting hysterical. He began repeating himself over and over again, just in different ways. After thinking about it Samuel realized it was the confirmed news he was getting that was hysterical. It was pandemonium in the streets. There was no denying what they were.

Everyone’s worst fears had finally come true. This was the zombie outbreak that would bring about the elimination of mankind, their ultimate undoing. It did not matter anymore that they were at the execution stage of Samuel’s time traveling experiment. This was the end of days.

All venture and auxiliary programs in the military and government were immediately dissolved to focus on preemptive salvation, including 1) quarantining the epidemic before it spreads over the entire world, and 2) tracing the disease back to a source in order to stop it, better understand it, and possibly cure it.

Every prominent mind in the country would be called to help save the world. Doctor Samuel Gordon Chase would ignore his calling until the bitter end of humanity’s salvation. For Samuel could only think about one thing and one thing alone, getting back to New York City. 

Samuel did not flinch when looking straight into the heart of the festering darkness.
Nothing can stop him from saving his family.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

1.7.0 The Page Is Turned

Jessup, MD 

By the middle of December Ansem and Rebecca had eloped and moved into Ansem’s house. Rebecca wanted to level both houses and build one big one on both properties, but Ansem would not let her. They would leave it like it was, so it would always be the same as when they first met and fell in love. Rebecca saw a side of him that she first admired now change to resentment. 

Christmas was on its way, Ansem and Rebecca spent many nights at the malls. They would walk through the stores and Ansem would offer to buy her anything, but Rebecca would not take the offer. She refused to be a trophy wife that gets everything she asks for. She wanted to work for her wealth, not marry into riches. Rebecca was a doctor, and even though she could retire tomorrow with the money Ansem had, she would work for as long as she could. It was her responsibility as someone who could help people that could not help themselves. 

They were decorating their Christmas tree when Ansem first sneezed. He dropped the garland as he covered his mouth and sneezed again. 

“Oh, honey,” Rebecca grabbed him, “are you getting sick?” 

It was no surprise when Ansem got really excited. He could not wait he exclaimed as he ran down to the basement, “Now I can try my supplement firsthand!”

Ansem came back up from the basement with the original bottle of pills that was brought back from the factories after being deconstructed, replicated, and reconstructed. There were sixty-six little white pills inside the bottle. He took one out and popped it in his mouth, swallowing it without water. He looked over at Rebecca who was standing uneasy behind him. 

“You take one a day for a week. The cold is gone by day two and never returns as long as you complete the regiment.”

Ansem and Rebecca continued finishing the decorations on the Christmas tree in their living room. Ansem put the angel on the tip-top and turned the lights on. The tree lit up the corner and the window perfectly. They stood before it together and held each other warmly. 

That night Ansem continued to cough and sneeze and hack up phlegm. Midway through the night he got up and ran to the bathroom. He threw up bile and blood into the toilet. Ansem flushed it without showing or telling Rebecca. He went downstairs to the kitchen to call the research reps at the manufacturing plants and ask them about side effects. They told him the same thing that was written on the bottle, “Side-effects include: nausea, fever, and fatigue.” 

They also told him it could possibly cause stroke, intestinal bleeding, and liver failure. Ansem had no idea it was so dangerous. Even though he had kept it from greedy corporation hands, it had still become twisted and processed. All humanity was sucked out of the pill. They were not honest with Ansem. The private manufacturing company he made the deal with never told him about any side-effects when they examined his formulas. But that’s just it, Ansem thought, this could not be his formula, when they reconstructed they must have replaced one of the chemicals with a cheaper product so they could pocket the dividend.          

Ansem got off the phone and threw it against the wall. It slammed the vertical flat and shattered into tiny plastic pieces all over the kitchen. He went back upstairs but collapsed on the staircase. His airy voice called out for Rebecca as he slipped his grip and slid down the stairs. Rebecca came out of the bedroom and caught her husband. Together they got him back to bed. 

The next day was no better. Ansem stayed in bed as his fever grew worse and the nausea subsided. Rebecca stayed by his side. When the time came he asked for his next pill. She was reluctant to give it to him at first. But finally, Rebecca gave in and issued his next round of supplement with plenty of water. Maybe that was the problem…and just as he suspected it was written on the bottle, ’Take with water’. Ansem fell asleep and prayed to God that he would feel better when he woke up. The road to recovery meant all his invested millions would not be in vain. 

Ansem woke up and did not feel any better. He was unaware of how much time had gone by. His body was bruised with internal bleeding and he could not move without being in extreme pain. Ansem was terrified that he might have a stroke or liver failure. He already had four out of six side-effects; getting the other two would kill him. Rebecca had no idea what to do. He never told her about the side-effects. She simply thought the supplement was not working and his cold was getting worse. 

On the third day he demanded to take another pill, even though they were convinced it was killing him. Rebecca gave her beloved the pill for a third time. By that night the fever was back and ten times worse. There was little hope that this supplement would make him better. 

On the fourth day Ansem made Rebecca promise she would let him take the full regiment of pills. Just like a vaccine you had to get worse before you got better. Maybe, just maybe, Ansem thought in his diluted state, the supplement was giving him every virus and infection it protected against all at once so it could cure him forever. It was just a matter of time.

On the fifth day Rebecca could not sleep, not only were her husband’s vitals rapidly declining before her very eyes, but their marital bed now repulsed her. Soaked in sweat and dried blood she couldn’t get him out even if she tried, he was bruised all over now from the intestinal bleeding, any sudden movement might rupture an organ at this point. Rebecca brought up some tea with his next pill, but he did not drink it. He stayed awake long enough to swallow the pill dry. 

On the sixth day Ansem lost consciousness. When she opened his eyes to check them they were green with jaundice. His liver was failing. Rebecca kept her promise though, and crushed the pill into a cup of water, dripping it down her fingers and into his mouth.

On the seventh day after she gave Ansem the final dosage of the supplement, Rebecca spent almost the entire night holding her cellphone in her hand, contemplating whether or not to call the paramedics. If she got Ansem to the hospital it might save his life, if he made it all the way there in one piece that is. But there was something else to worry about…If she did manage to get him to the hospital and they ran tests on him they would find the supplement in his blood, it would undoubtedly be traced all the way back to the shipping companies and both Ansem and Rebecca would be arrested. So those were her two choices… do nothing and let Ansem either die or, more unlikely, pull through or call for help and spend the rest of her life behind bars.  

On the eighth day Ansem Weathers died, the same day his pills were shipped out to the general public, Rebecca’s last Christmas. The room was dark and quiet, night lurking outside the window. He lay still with his arm hanging off the bed. His wife, Rebecca, at his side, head in his lifeless hand. She was crying for him. His heart had stopped beating. She could feel it. Pulse was everything. She had been constantly monitoring his, and as Ansem grew weaker, she had to concentrate more and more on finding it. 

Now it was gone, along with everything she cared about…Part of her wanted to wait there forever for him to return to her; but there was no getting around it…Ansem was gone, and as his doctor she pronounced him dead at 8:22 PM. 

A heartbeat, latent and subtle crawled through the vibrations of their defiled marital bed. She wanted to believe he was back so bad. Rebecca continued to cry into his hand, this world was small and comforting right now. As long as she didn’t have to leave his embrace, she never had to deal with his death.

Rebecca did not feel the shift on the bed. She was grief stricken and distracted. It was not until Ansem’s pulse came back that she responded. This was not just her imagination; she could feel it, cheek to palm. His heartbeat was perpetually slower but gradually getting stronger. She had to stop crying now. Rebecca got a hold of herself; she had to be reminded of who she was before Ansem’s love, a woman first and a doctor second. Wife or not, those two will never change. She opened her eyes and begged God for the chance that her husband, Ansem was not dead.

The pale green bloodshot eyes of death lured over Rebecca as she looked up at her dear Ansem. He was sitting up, dazed, like he was alive for the first time.


A moaning hunger bellowed out of him. 

His breath smelled terrible. Rebecca saw her husband, but just a shell. It terrified her. Ansem moved his hands over Rebecca’s head, combing through her dirty blonde hair to her shoulders. At first he was soft and glided gently down her arms. She resisted his cold embrace. 

“…Ansem…please…answer me….”

He dragged his dirty rotten nails down to her wrist and took a hold of her. Ansem Weathers was no more and when Rebecca looked deep into his soulless eyes she realized this, but it was too late… Screams and thrashing about… 

Fight for your life Doctor Pratt or you won’t make it through the night

 to be concluded...

Monday, December 3, 2012

1.6.0 Everyone’s Got a Secret


Jessup, MD
The next couple of weeks went by in a flash. Rebecca and Ansem spent every minute together. Rebecca looked up from the trampoline in her backyard while she held her boyfriend’s hand over her shoulder. The moon was small, a sliver crescent, but the stars were bright. It was a beautiful free night of love and happiness.
Out of all the sharing they had done, Ansem was still keeping something from Rebecca, and it was in the basement of his house. He decided that he would have to tell her eventually. And while on the trampoline, in fact, while she was looking at him like no other time before, he decided to show her.
Ansem took Rebecca to his house and down the stairs to the basement. At first she feared the worst walking down those steps. Step by step her paranoia grew. Who keeps anything good in a basement? It’s rarely a train set and most of the time a mass grave. Ansem opened the door and took her inside. Of course, she had to enter the room in darkness, like her eyes were closed. He snapped the lights on and she wanted to scream, but it ended up not being a big deal.
It was a computer desk and a lab table filled with beakers, Bunsen burners, hot plates, and a refrigerator spanning the entire length of the basement wall where he kept every chemical he’s collected and created.
“What is all this?” Rebecca had to ask.          
“My gift to mankind. My life mission. My legacy.”            
“I don’t understand, Ansem.”            
“Rebecca, I have figured out how to cure the common cold.”            
“The sniffles…influenza…allergies…pneumonia…all treatable.”           
“It has always been there, I guess too many people would lose their jobs and money if there was no need to buy cough syrup. I’m creating a supplement…just like you take for your anxiety.”            
“Does anybody know about this?” Rebecca was still uneasy.            
“Just the two of us now…” 

Ansem sat at the lab desk. He had pulled something up from his laptop and wanted Rebecca to take a look at it. As a doctor she knew what she was looking at when it came to things like DNA coding and lab reports. It was all checking out to her. His math and logistics were fully proven; he had a complete knowledge of medicine and was treating the common cold with an array of different inhibitors and growth serums derived from inverted irregular cells. Once combined and wrapped into an antibiotic, it will attack any virus, infection, or threat to the body and keep virtually every disease away.
“Is that why you bought all the shipping companies?”
“I want this to be available to the masses. If anyone finds out about this the FDA will throw me in jail. You see…the technology and knowledge has been around for over twenty years now. The only reason I can think of as to why they haven’t produced it is because if they gave it to the public…seasonal sickness would go down 97%. Entire healthcare industries would be devastated.”
 “So why do you still want to do this?”           
“It is every person’s right to live free of sickness. I can give that to them.”          
“When do you plan to send it out?” 

Rebecca stood next to Ansem who was sitting at the desk with her body turned the other way. This was the first time there was ever any distance between the two of them since their first date. Rebecca was no longer scared of her beloved’s secret in the basement. She was not afraid at all with his plight. It was the fact that she could not see his point of view as being right that made her uneasy. She didn’t know if she agreed with this or not. Rebecca looked over Ansem’s shoulder as he fondled a test-tube in his hands at his desk in the basement.
“They are prepped to go out on the twenty-first. Four days before Christmas…”

New York, NY

It was the beginning of December when Samuel came out of his coma. He had seen many things while he was under and could not remember any of them. It felt like he had lived for hundreds of years. When Vanessa saw him awake she kissed him with wet lips from all the tears. There was little hope for Samuel, every doctor had said so. Vanessa refused to pull the plug on him. Something told her, somehow she knew that he was meant to come back and live on. This world was not finished with Samuel Gordon Chase.
“What did you see?” she asked him later at home, in bed.           
“I stepped into the oncoming grid.”
“What?” she repeated.       
“When I got in that room, before I passed out, I saw the grid. I think my consciousness was thrown into it.”            
“I don’t understand”    
“I saw my life outside of itself…as a whole… And then I weaved through it, unseen by myself. Along my journey I came upon the grey mist, and that is why I cannot remember anything now except the beginning.”           
“You sound even crazier than before, Sam” Vanessa admitted.          
“I know, honey. This all seems…well…farfetched…but in time…I promise…you will understand. You asked me what I saw…I saw the Time Collider.”
The next day Samuel did not rest. He went in to his laboratory to find that the results from his test had pushed the research and development phase into overdrive and they were able to get enough funding to manufacture the portable Tachyon Resonator Samuel had first drawn up. His actions were morally and ethically wrong, and he should have been dismissed for putting the students and staff in danger, but instead he was being rewarded for his innovation and scientific findings.
Samuel could not figure out how to combine the Time Collider with the Tachyon Resonator. It was not until he threw out the notion of achieving the speed of light altogether that he realized what had to be done. You see the Time Collider bent space and time, placing the entry and exit point together, but it could not infiltrate the intrinsic fabric of reality. For that, the doctor needed to build one more device.
Samuel slid his Time Collider blueprints over the Tachyon Resonator blueprints, and with one more piece of tracing paper covered both of them. He outlined the circle of the Tachyon Resonator and etched in the triangular mainframe of the Time Collider. In the middle of the circle and triangle he smiled and wrote down three of his most beloved words…
Quantum Wormhole Catalyst  
Always a childhood axiom of Samuel's since he was enthralled by modern American comparative mythology; he never thought he would be able to apply it to physical research and development. Everything was coming together…The Tachyon Resonator isolated the surrounding area and converted the atmosphere. The Time Collider held the fabric of the space-time continuum in rippled stasis. And, the Quantum Wormhole Catalyst created a thread from one dimensional timeline to the next.
This assembly was complicated and risky. If not done right it could open up Earth to infinite dangerous dimensions where anything was possible, including the darkest of human nightmares. To be safe, the jump would have to be made in outer space. Where there was enough room and zero gravity to achieve maximum velocity, no elemental factors could interfere with the experiment like wind resistance, and there was no danger of reemerging in the middle of a wall.
With the resonator being done already it would not take them that long to create the collider and Q.W.C. Their end of the experiment would be done before Christmas. It was the spaceship part that would have to wait for the department to find a suitable government provider. It was not long before General Saarsgard of the US Air Force caught wind of Samuel’s miraculous recovery and subsequent discoveries, and contacted him from the Cheyenne Mountain Complex. He informed Samuel of his base and what they were building inside of it.

 to be continued...