Jemma stepped into the anti-contamination chamber and removed her protective gear. Her last remaining tissue sample remained in the lab, locked up behind bulletproof glass.
Jemma stuck with routine, despite being the only remaining scientist at the CDC, and that meant following protocol; the fact that her being there directly violated evacuation protocol phased her not in the least. With the horrors surrounding her, someone had to at least try to save lives. Her education and intellect made her the most qualified to do so.
The automatic lighting flickered to life as she walked down the corridor towards the control room.
With the advent of biological weapons, the CDC, in their wisdom, built an underground bunker decades ago. It had been kept up to date and fully stocked through the years, although until now, there had been no need of it. In addition to top of the line laboratories, it contained enough beds to sleep a little over a hundred people, kitchens, lounges, and the control room. From there, you could monitor all areas of the bunker as well as the above ground perimeter. It was just as important to keep out contaminates as it was to contain and quarantine the work inside the labs.
There should have been a full team with Jemma. The brightest scientific minds working together to solve the problem. Jemma’s lab partner, an affable young mother of two, had been one of the first ones infected. Her death had been hard; her subsequent rebirth horrifying and, scientifically, should have been impossible.
One by one, Jemma had watched co-workers, friends, and strangers on the street either succumb to the virus, flee, or take their own lives. When given the choice to leave with the last of the hold outs, Jemma had chosen to stay. How could she not? If no one stepped in to try to find a solution, the virus would spread beyond the shores of the United States, if it hadn’t already.
Jemma Simmons was a biochemist. They youngest ever to graduate with double PhD’s. Her second dissertation had explored the dangers of mutated strains of common viruses, especially given radiation levels and pollutants present in the atmosphere, both at the highest levels in recorded history. At no point in her research did she expect to be in this situation.
Zombies. What else could she call it? Spontaneous cannibalistic rebirth? It defied science and everything she had ever been taught. The media had begun to call them walkers, which seemed a much too benign moniker for the flesh-eating, crazed shells of what once had been fathers and mothers, friends and lovers.
Jemma reached the control room and sat at what she had taken to calling ‘the nest’. A bank of monitors showed scenes from around the compound, both inside and outside, and from this station she could control doors, lights, alarms; all the mechanics. She gave these monitors barely a cursory glance. She would see what she had been seeing for the past 48 days: piles of decomposing bodies that not even the bugs would touch.
Because her science couldn’t come up with a cure in time, the Department of Defense had started using kill shots to try to contain the outbreak. The only way to kill the walkers, without them getting back up again, was a shot through the brain. Anything less would only slow them down.
Jemma swallowed hard. Objectively speaking, she knew it wasn’t her fault. She could never have predicted this, nor could the Centers for Disease Control. They, and the rest of the country, were grossly unprepared.
She had been enjoying sporadic contact with the outside world. The CDC had installed an independent network, based on an underground system of fiber optics, but for the past 9 days, it had been out. Jemma didn’t know if there was anyone left out there. Her parents were as safe as they could be, an ocean away, but she had no idea how long the virus could inoculate. A carrier could have boarded a plane before the FAA grounded flights and an infection could be spreading overseas.
There was nothing Jemma could do but continue to work on a cure. She could do nothing for the thousands dead already, or the thousands that could be infected tomorrow. She could only keep working.
With that in mind, Jemma sat at the nest and prepared to input today’s notes into her daily log. She had been updating every day, even those hard days when there was nothing to report but a series of failures. There had been a lot of those.
A movement out of the corner of her eye had her swiveling quickly to her left and reaching for the gun kept under the desk top, bringing it up at eye level in one smooth arc.
Jemma closed her eyes, dropping her chin to her chest. Now was not the time to start jumping at shadows.
The beep of the perimeter sensors going off had her head jerking back up.
On the North side of the building, before one of the sealed automatic doors, stood three people.
Jemma could barely believe what she was seeing. They stood quite still and appeared to be speaking to one another. Her heart started pounding in her chest and a rushing started in her ears. Could they possibly be uninfected?
Of course, protocol stated that once sealed, no outside persons could enter, at least not until she had a working, viable antidote, but Jemma doubted that when the protocol was written this situation was even remotely considered.
Jemma turned on the audio and zoomed in.
“I don’t know, Fitz, this place looks abandoned. We need help, but I don’t think we’re gonna find it here.”
The woman, unfairly attractive with long brown hair, turned towards one of the men, currently examining the side of the building.
He turned and looked right into the camera, as if he could feel Jemma’s eyes on him, and took a step forward.
“Someone’s in there. This camera is on and I bet they’re watching us right now.”
The soft, Scottish lilt was unexpected, and sounded so close to home she felt an unexpected tear come to her eye. Which was even more mortifying than getting caught playing voyeur was.
The Scotsman, Fitz, she presumed, had dark blonde hair showing a hint of natural curl and blue eyes, which were currently squinting up into the camera.
“Fitz, man, come on, what makes you think there’s someone watching us?”
This last came from the second man in the group, who had been standing back and looking around diligently. Tall with impressive musculature, the sun shone down on his smooth dark skin, which was gleaming in the midday heat.
Fitz straightened and stepped back, placing both hands on his waist, “I can hear the camera zooming in. Chances are there’s audio and they can hear us as well.”
At that, the woman pushed past the two men and stalked directly to the camera.
“Hey. Yeah, hello in there. Listen, we need to get in there. It’s not safe out here, I really have to pee, and I’d pay a million imaginary dollars for a bathroom with running water. So, just open the door, any door, and let us in. Please, if you don’t mind.”
Jemma chewed her bottom lip and quickly tried to weigh the pros and cons. She couldn’t leave them out there. It was only a matter of time before a walker, or walkers, found them. Nevertheless, what would she do with them once they were inside? She had plenty of supplies, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was they could be anybody or anything. Murderers, rapists, what have you, and they could be carriers of the virus or already bitten or infected. Perhaps if she put on her hazmat suit and took a small blood sample from each of them while holding them in an outer r--
The sound of metal on metal interrupted Jemma’s train of thought. Fitz had pried open the electrical panel beside the outer doors and was examining the wiring.
“What an idiot. He’s going to compromise the entire network,” Jemma mumbled under her breath, already preparing to enter the commands to open the doors.
Before she could do more than pull up the command window, she heard the outer doors open with a soft whoosh, the alarms in the bunker starting to wail. Jemma quickly shut down the alarms and once she’d seen the three intruders enter the door, entered the override command for another lock down.
Jemma jumped up and ran towards her lab. They could wander around upstairs for days before finding the bunker, and she needed her suit before encountering them. A sudden thought brought her up short, and turning around to run back towards the nest. She grabbed the gun she’d left on the top of the desk and sprinted down the corridor.
She jumped into the suit she’d just removed an hour ago and grabbed a small lab kit and the gun; time to meet her new roommates.
Jemma approached the elevator leading to the ground floor and moved to push in the code needed to open the doors, but a noise had her looking up and stepping up to place her hand on the door panel. There was a definite vibration. The elevator was coming down.
Jemma took a few steps back and set down her kit. She raised the gun and waited for the doors to open.
The elevator set down with a soft thud. The doors slid open silently and the trio stepped out together, all of them looking taken aback by the petite woman in a white hazmat suit pointing a gun at them.
“Stop right there, all of you.”
They all exchanged a glance and paused, slowly bringing their hands up.
Jemma rolled her eyes and snapped, “Oh, do put your hands down. I’m not robbing you. We just need to take care of some preliminaries before I can let you any further into the bunker. Most importantly though, are any of you bitten? Or scratched?”
Skye put her hands down and smiled half-heartedly, “Hi. I’m Skye. This is my boyfriend Trip and this is my best friend Fitz. None of us are bitten, I promise. We’re just looking for somewhere safe that we can hole up in until we figure out how we can stop this. We’d heard there was a quarantine set up here.”
Jemma kept the gun leveled at them with steady hands.
“I’m going to need a small blood sample from each of you. You may not be displaying symptoms, but this virus has an inoculation period, so any of you could be infected. I have to make sure you aren’t before you go any further.”
Trip spoke up, “Sure, whatever you need.”
Fitz had been silently watching the exchange, but stepped forward, speaking softly, “We’re all on the same team, at least I hope we are. We just want to help.”
He slowly removed his backpack and rolled up his sleeve, exposing his forearm, “I’ll go first.”
Jemma was afraid she hadn’t quite thought this haphazard plan through. She would have to put the gun down to take the samples, and despite their words, and how badly she wanted to believe them, that would put her in a very vulnerable position.
Fitz seemed to understand her predicament, “Trip has had some medical training. I’m sure he could do the blood draws. Right, Trip?”
“Absolutely. I was in the army, trained to be a medic for a few months, but it wasn’t my strong point.”
Jemma let out a sigh of relief and nodded, kicking her kit towards him.
Trip knelt down and with an economy of movement, and with much more skill than she had expected, managed to get samples from all three of them within ten minutes, placing them in the kit and shoving it back towards her.
“There’s a lounge in that door to your right. If you’ll wait there, I’ll have these samples analyzed within the hour. There are snacks and drinks in the refrigerator. Help yourselves.”
Jemma watched them gather their things and file through the doorway. Fitz was the last to enter and he turned back and caught her eye.
“It’s going to be okay, you know.”
He didn’t wait for her to respond but followed his friends through the door.
“I hope you’re right,” Jemma whispered to the empty corridor.
Back in her lab, Jemma shed the cumbersome suit and quickly went about testing the samples, praying each time she placed her eye to the microscope that she wouldn’t find any of those cursed cells.
She heard the rumble of voices as she approached the lounge and paused just outside, closing her eyes against an onslaught of tears. It had been so long since she’d heard a human voice besides her own.
“She’s scared. Who knows how long she’s been here alone.”
Jemma opened her eyes as Skye’s words reached her, knowing she should announce her return, but something held her back another moment.
“We’re all scared, but we’re gonna fix this. Together.”
Jemma smiled at Fitz’s words, wondering how anyone could remain so optimistic in the face of the utter devastation outside, wondering too if it would be completely crazy to trust this small group of strangers so soon.
She stepped through the door and cleared her throat and immediately three sets of eyes turned in her direction from their places gathered around the small dining table.
“Good news, everyone, none of you are infected, or carrying an inoculated viral cell.”
“That is awesome news. Now, can we all stop being so weird and just have a normal conversation for once.”
Jemma smiled at Skye’s words, “It’s been a while since I’ve had a normal conversation with anyone, and that was before the evacuation.”
Skye laughed and jumped up, “Oh my god, you’re hilarious. Here, come sit with us. We don’t bite, I promise. Well, I can’t speak for Fitz, I’ve heard some interesting rumors from a couple of ex-girlfriends of his.”
Jemma watched as Fitz turned an alarming shade of red before sputtering, “Oh, that’s mature.”
Trip smiled, big and wide, “Fitz, man, it’s the end of the world, gotta laugh sometime.”
Jemma sat down in the chair between Fitz and Skye and folded her hands and placed them on the table in front of her, “So, how did you three get here?”
Fitz folded his arms and slumped down in his chair, looking like a human version of grumpy cat. It was kind of adorable, actually.
“Well, we were all living and working in D.C. when the outbreak started, so we got a fair amount of warning. It was Fitz’s idea to come here once we heard the rumor about the quarantine. I hacked into your server and that’s when we realized someone here was running on an unregistered network.”
“So you’re a hacker? Is that term still relevant?”
“Sure, but by day you can call me a network securities expert. Fitz here is a genius engineer. Trip is ex-military working for powerful people we’re not supposed to know exist.”
Jemma sat back and absorbed this information, particularly interested in Fitz’s background as an engineer. She was sure she could use all of their help in some capacity or another, starting with her unregistered network which was currently out.
“Alright, well, I’m Dr. Jemma Simmons—“
Skye guffawed and punched Fitz lightly on the arm, “Another doc on the team, Dr. Fitz.”
Jemma raised a brow and looked at Fitz who was grumbling and rubbing at the place Skye had punched him.
“Fitz isn’t your first name?”
Skye interjected again, “Oh, this is where it gets good. It took months before Fitz would tell me his first name. He hates it.”
“I don’t hate it, thank you very much, I just don’t like it.”
“You don’t’ have to tell me if you’d rather not, really.”
Fitz cleared his throat and turned his intense blue eyes to meet her own golden brown ones, “Dr. Leopold Fitz, but everyone just calls me Fitz.”
Jemma smiled at him, “Leopold isn’t at all bad, but I do rather like Fitz. It suits you, which sounds silly considering I’ve only known you approximately 90 minutes, but it does.”
Fitz swallowed and licked his lips, abashedly looking down at the tabletop. He seemed rather shy, another thing Jemma was finding adorable.
Trip had been silent throughout, letting them speak and cover all the basics, but he spoke up now, “We should discuss the set up here. I assume you’ve got independent utilities running the place, power and water mainly. Is there somewhere we can all sleep, maybe grab a shower?”
Jemma jumped up immediately, “Of course! This bunker has been kept updated for the past decade, ready to house and feed a hundred people for up to a full year. I’ll show you to some rooms and let you get settled in. We can discuss where to go from there once you’ve all rested up.”
Jemma led them all down the long corridor, explaining along the way the automatic lighting system and sustainability system built into place.
“So, Jemma, how long have you been here, all alone?”
The question came from Skye, who seemed the most talkative of the three.
“48 days.”
There was silence for the next few seconds, until Fitz spoke up, “48 days of peace and quiet sounds brilliant to me.”
That startled a laugh out of Jemma, and it echoed along the corridor along with their footsteps.
“I have to admit, the first few days with the labs all to myself were amazing.”
Jemma stopped at a hall that branched off to the left.
“There are apartments all along this hall. I have the first one on the right, but take your pick of any of the rest. All of the apartments have multiple beds and shared bathrooms, but with so few of us you can all have your own rooms and bathrooms, if you like.”
Jemma went over a few other things, location of toiletries and towels, and left them to it, retreating to her own room.
She leaned back against the closed door and shut her eyes is abject relief. For weeks, she had been working with the knowledge that she might not be able to fix this on her own, and as crazy as it was to trust complete strangers so quickly, she was starting to hope that these three people might just be the help she so desperately needed.
Jemma was fiddling with some pots and pans when Fitz walked into the kitchen a few hours later. She didn’t have much in the way of fresh produce, but there were still plenty of frozen meats and vegetables left from when they’d stocked up just before initiating a lock down.
“Oh, hello, would you like some tea?”
“Yes, actually, that sounds amazing.”
Jemma bustled around the large kitchen, grabbing a mug from the cabinet and placing it on a tray along with several tea packets, sugar, and milk. She filled the mug from her electric kettle and carried it all to the stainless steel worktable Fitz was leaning on.
“Please, feel free to pull up one of those bar stools and have a seat. I was just figuring out dinner. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to cook for anyone besides myself, and to be honest, I’ve been sticking with the dehydrated packs. No use really in cooking for one, or at least no fun in cooking for one.”
Jemma realized she was babbling and pressed her lips together before she ran on again. Fitz was staring at her again, and no wonder with her going on like a mad woman. She watched his hands as he started fixing his tea, the nicely delineated muscles in his forearms flexing as he grasped his spoon and started stirring.
Jemma blinked and quickly pushed away from the table, turning back to survey the groceries she’d pulled from the freezer; looks like they were having roast with veggies.
“So, how long have you been with the CDC?”
Jemma turned her head to look at him, surprised by the question. He’d seemed reluctant to even talk to her earlier.
“Three years, just after I finished my second PhD. I realized during my residency that being a medical doctor wasn’t exactly what I wanted, so I went back to school, and ended up here right after graduation.”
“You must’ve finished school quite early. I did the same actually, youngest to ever graduate from MIT, or some nonsense like that.”
“Oh, really?”
Jemma turned back towards the stove, where she was arranging the roast and veggies in a large baking pan, smiling to herself.
“I mean, it was no big deal. I’ve got a good memory, is all.”
Jemma placed the roast in the oven and pulled up a stool so she could sit across from Fitz.
“Oh, don’t be modest. It’s very difficult to get into a school like MIT.”
Fitz blushed slightly and smiled down into his tea, “Yeah.”
They sat in a strangely comfortable silence. Jemma had nearly forgotten the comfort of another human being; sitting in silence, but reassured by their presence.
“So, I know you and Skye met at MIT, but how did you meet Trip? He seems nice.”
“Trip is a good guy, one of the best there is. Skye and me, we do some consulting work on the side, for the same people that Trip works for. We met him during a job.”
“That sounds interesting. What kind of work is that?”
“Technically it’s classified, but with the end of days and all, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to say. Skye’s specialty is computer security and security systems, testing them. What she finds wrong, I help fix, by beefing up the physical components, motion detectors, sensors, that sort of thing. I’m the gadget guy.”
“Which is how you were able to open the doors.”
“Yeah.”
Skye and Trip walked in holding hands and laughing about something. Jemma thought it was lovely, to see that kind of love amongst all the chaos.
“Do I smell pot roast? Please tell me I smell pot roast.”
Jemma smiled at Skye, “You do indeed. I thought you three might like a full on dinner.”
“Sounds great, Jem, need our help with anything?”
Secretly delighted at her new nickname, Jemma turned to Trip, “Oh, no, I’ve got everything under control. It’s a simple meal, really.”
“Not so simple when it’s the first cooked meal we’ve had in weeks. We’ll set the table and handle clean up.”
Skye walked over and threw her arm around Fitz’s shoulders.
“Not surprised to find you here, Fitz. Don’t be deceived by his appearance. This dude can eat. Like, a lot, and yet he doesn’t get fat. It’s so not fair.”
What followed was the best dinner Jemma had had in longer than she could remember. Even before, she’d never had a group she felt she belonged to outside of work. She’d been brought in as an outsider and had never quite managed to click with anyone. They were chatty enough at work, but she was rarely invited out for drinks on the weekends. She kept reminding herself that she wasn’t there to make friends. She was there to potentially save lives.
Jemma stood up as they began to clear the table, “I know you all must have lots of questions. How about we meet up in the lounge after breakfast tomorrow? About 10?”
“Sure thing. Fitz and Skye here aren’t really morning people, but I’ll make sure they’re at least present.”
Jemma returned Trip’s smile and walked back to her room, glancing once over her shoulder to find Fitz staring after her. He quickly looked away and she kept walking. He really did have the nicest blue eyes.
“So, what have you been up to the past month and a half?”
Jemma breathed deep and turned to Skye, “Well, as you know, we here at the CDC—“
“Wait, wait, wait. We’re not government officials or your bosses, no need for the whole super professional speech or whatever. Just give it to us straight, and as simply as possible. Fitz is going to be the only one who understands you otherwise. “
Jemma flicked her eyes to Fitz, who was slumped adorably into the corner of the couch, a frown on his rather nicely symmetric face. Just how smart was he? It was rare to find anyone who could understand her and communicate on her level.
“Okay, I’ve been alone for the past 48 days, it would’ve been 49 if you hadn’t showed up, but before that there were about 20 of us in this bunker in quarantine, all working on a solution.”
Fitz sat up at that, “That’s what we’d heard, that there was a quarantine set up down here. That’s why we initially decided to head down here.”
“The protocol called for at least 20 staff, with room for an additional 100 people if necessary, but we never imagined an outbreak in this day and age at this level. It’s completely unheard of. This virus, and it is a virus, is spreading at over twice the speed of the bubonic plague. The hospitals couldn’t keep up. The labs upstairs were grossly overwhelmed. By the time they called for quarantine, there was no way we could bring anyone down here for treatment, not least because we had no way to treat them. But the virus causes…violent episodes, and we don’t have the containment facilities necessary.”
Fitz got up and started to pace behind the couch Skye and Trip were sitting on.
“Walkers, is what they’re called, right? Dunno why the z-word didn’t stick, seems like an apt description to me.”
“Fitz, man, I don’t care what you want to call them, if I shoot someone and they keep getting up, that just freaks me out.”
“I can see how that would disturb someone with a military background. I urged for containment, but the order still went out for termination. They used that word in the memo that went down the channels here, termination. These people were sick, and we helped them by putting a bullet between their eyes.”
Skye got up and joined Jemma on the other couch, “Hey, it’s not your fault, and if you’d been out there seeing what we’ve seen, doing what we’ve had to do, it feels humane. Those aren’t people anymore. They’re suffering.”
“Perhaps, but they wouldn’t be if I could come up with a cure. Some sort of antiserum.”
“All by yourself? Come on, Jem, you know you can’t put this all on you. Listen, Fitz is the smartest guy I know, a certified genius rocket scientist, or something, and Skye here ain’t so bad herself. Between the four of us, we’re gonna come up with something.”
Jemma blinked back the tears that wanted to fall and smiled, “I’d really like that.”
Skye jumped up, full of energy, “Okay, what do we do first? You said your network was down? I can get that back up, especially with Fitz’s help. He designed at least two of the communications satellites floating around up there. “
Jemma raised an eyebrow, impressed once again, “Oh, really?”
“Three, actually, but the third isn’t communications, it’s just up there gathering information for the space station.”
“Oh, is that all? Anyways, so I’ll get the comms back up. Trip can start working on strategy, we can’t stay here forever, and Fitz can help you in the lab.”
“I’m not sure what more we can do actually. I’ve only got one sample left, and if the antiserum doesn’t work, I’ll have ruined it. I’d need fresh, viable samples from someone infected.”
“You need a walker.”
“Well, Trip, I prefer to call them specimens or patients, but yes, I need one, or at least part of one.”
“Oh, now that’s just gross.”
“Oh, Fitz! It’s science. I have to dissect something.”
“We’ll leave you kids to figure this one out. Come on, Trip, let’s get some decent Wi-Fi going on in this bitch.”
Jemma stood up after Skye and Trip left, unsure of herself, or what she should be doing, which was beyond silly. She always knew what she was doing.
“Would you like to see the lab?”
“So long as there aren’t any open corpses lying about.”
Jemma started to walk out, but stopped short, “Was that a joke?”
“A poor one, but yeah. I may not be a fan of biology, but I can still help. What’s your delivery mechanism?”
“I hadn’t quite worked that out yet actually—“
Skye and Trip burst into the room, saying simultaneously, “We’ve got a problem.”
Jemma stared at the bank of monitors in the nest, quite unable to believe what she was hearing.
“Are you telling me that this entire facility is set to blow up? And there’s no way to override it?”
Skye swiveled around to face the group from where she’d been typing furiously into the keyboard, “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
Trip just nodded at that, “How much time do we have?”
“The counter I found shows 36 hours. It looks like an override code was supposed to be put in, and since it never was, the timer started. Jemma, you said you’d been alone for 48 days, so a 50-day count makes some sort of sense. It’s called a doomsday protocol, to completely eliminate any chance of any of the infectious diseases from getting out in the event of a catastrophe.”
Jemma opened her mouth, but couldn’t seem to form any words. She could have died in here if they hadn’t shown up. She stepped back and let Trip continue mustering the troops, so to speak.
“We’ll need to pack up as much as we can carry since we’ll be on foot and leave as soon as possible. We don’t want to be anywhere near this place when it blows. Fitz, you think you can hot wire us a car if we find one with fuel in it?”
“Probably have enough spare parts around here to build us one if I had to, but yeah, of course.”
“Skye, see if you can get us any information from the outside world, get that network going. We can’t be the only ones left.”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
Skye tossed Trip a wink and sauntered out.
“Jem, you and Fitz see if you can get a med pack together. We’ll meet back here in an hour.”
Jemma turned and led Fitz to her lab. These walls that had become a temporary home for her now felt like they were closing in.
“Everything’s gonna be okay, you know?”
His voice was soft, and if he were any more careful with her, she thought she’d scream, or cry, both equally embarrassing scenarios.
“I’m still trying to wrap my head around living inside what is essentially a bomb. If you guys hadn’t of shown up, I would have died.”
“Yeah, would not want you to do that.”
Jemma peeked up at Fitz through her lashes.
“Fitz, you don’t even know me.”
Because she was looking, she caught the look her sent her before he looked away again.
“Well, no, but you made me dinner and tea. We’re practically engaged according to Skye.”
Jemma smiled and moved closer, letting their shoulders brush as they continued to the lab. Maybe she wouldn’t find the solution, not on her own, but if they all worked together, pieces solving a puzzle, maybe they’d get there.