Omega Pathogen: The Beginning Read Online Free Page B

authorization a death sentence . The only security present in the complex are the five men supplied by the military to maintain discipline of the prisoners, and to see that they are appropriately compliant when being taken to the isolation area, where the latest version of their altered virus is put to the test.
    The ancient elevator creaks and groans as they descend further into the cold depths of the bunker. The clanking sound of metal and the ping of cables vibrate the occupants’ chests. I should have taken the damned stairs , Doctor Kosktov thinks. The two men continue until they stop at sub-level four. The door begins to open and then stops, with Levenon giving a swift kick to the side of the door, nudging it to continue the process of opening completely. A few short feet from the elevator is the entrance door to the isolation area. Doctor Levenon hurries past the lead scientist and punches in his code to unlock the door, and then pushes inward to open it. The sound of metal grinding on metal echoing through the level is comparable to nails scraping on a chalkboard. Doctor Kosktov feels it in his fillings.
    Soon after the sound of the door opening fades, Doctor Kosktov hears the multitude of voices inside the isolation area. They all are filled with excitement, and laughter intermittently thrown in . Surprisingly, even with the noise of the door, it takes a few seconds before the room of eight scientists notices his arrival. Kosktov is greeted with cheers, and the other scientists rush to greet him with pats on the back, and some with hugs and kisses on the cheek. “Doctor Kosktov, we’ve waited for you to open the vodka and make a toast!” yells the diminutive Doctor Brazinski, while wiping a tear from his cheek and replacing his eyeglasses.
    Holding up his right hand for quiet, Kosktov looks around the room. “Someone give me a report,” he says. “Sir, it worked! Please just look for yourself,” says another of the scientists, walking to the far end of the room where curtains hang on the wall. Kosktov follows him to the wall; on the other side is a soundproof room where they monitor the effects of their latest handiwork on the test subjects.
    Upon reaching the curtains, the other scientist raises his hand to grab one of them. Kosktov notes the tremble of the man’s hand . “Well, open it, Sergi,” Kosktov says. Now he hears the tension and excitement in his own voice. He’s never seen these men in this state of elation. The curtain seems to move at the pace of hair growing. Finally, Kosktov realizes he’s watching the curtain, and not looking into the room itself. Turning his eyes into the room, he gasps for breath, not realizing he had been holding it.
    In front of him is their latest test subject, lying supine on a thin, stained mattress on a steel bed. The test subject, a man, is in his late fifties, with all four extremities bound by leather straps. “When did the fever break?” Kosktov asks. “It broke about two hours ago, but we didn’t fetch you then because he seemed to lapse into a coma like the others,” answers the scientist beside him. Looking more closely, Kosktov sees that the man is squinting his eyes. His head and extremities are constantly moving in a jerking manner. His mouth opens and closes as if making noise, and he periodically bites at his lips and tongue, drawing blood. There is foaming saliva mixed with the blood flowing down both sides of his face and chin.
    “Turn on the speaker,” orders Kosktov. After the click of the switch for the speaker, Kosktov hears the man’s growls and grunts with intermittent groans. The sounds are like that of a feral animal in pain. “Shall we have a drink, Doctor Kosktov?” asks another of the scientists. “Has it eaten or drunk?” Kosktov asks, ignoring the question to him. “No…we have not attempted to feed it or give it water yet, sir.” “Well, how the fuck do we know if it’s just going to starve to death or die of