“Melody, you practically knocked that guy over… There’s people climbing into the cheetah area!”
Six people climbed over the fence and charged at the cheetahs mouth first. They snapped and ran straight toward the big cats. The cheetahs responded with sharp teeth and claws that ripped into the flesh of the attackers. These crazy people didn’t slow their approach and continued their onslaught on the animals. Big Jim couldn’t believe what he saw happening before him.
“Melody, are you seeing this?”
As he turned back to the last place she had been standing, Melody stood doubled over puking on the ground. Her puke looked more like blood than anything she had eaten during their morning meal. Before he had time to register what was happening and move to help her, Melody leaped onto an older gentleman and ripped his throat out with her teeth.
“What the hell?”
The older lady who had stood with the man moments before, let out a long scream. A teenage girl tackled her from behind and ripped her throat out to reward her efforts.
Big Jim froze as he surveyed the horror unfolding before him. From his peripheral vision, a large man lumbered toward him with his mouth snapping in the breeze. With a fist the size of a canned ham, Jim Struck the man square in his face. An unnatural crack resulted, which flattened the approaching hulk. Not knowing what to do, Big Jim turned away and ran.
CHAPTER THREE
Day Two
JAMES RICHARDS’ HEAD throbbed, and his muscles ached. He laid on a hard surface and tried to clear the fog from his brain. Did he drink too much last night? Jim didn’t drink beyond his body’s capacity to handle the alcohol because he knew the problems associated with being intoxicated. Why couldn’t he cut through the cloud of confusion? While he tried to decipher the puzzle, a voice spoke.
“The big guy is coming around.”
“Thank goodness. We can use another set of hands. I thought his injuries might be too severe.” Another voice responded to the first.
An injury? That would explain the headache and the sore muscles. What type of injury? Big Jim hadn’t taken part in any missions for years now. It must be because of something else. An accident maybe?
The fog cleared and everything rushed back into Jim’s mind. Melody, a strict vegetarian, ripped the throat out of a stranger with her teeth. Mass hysteria as others joined in on her newfound hobby of cannibalism. All the running. Jim trying to save a woman and then a child. Wait, the child.
In Jim’s mind, he exploded to his feet. To an outside observer, he looked like a large grizzly bear trying to get his feet under him as the tranquilizer dart wore off. The results were blinding dizziness, buckling knees, and the urge to hurl. Jim’s butt crashed back down onto the hard bed he had been resting on.
“Easy, big guy. You hit your head pretty hard. You’re safe now. Take it easy.” A woman with curly gray hair and a kind face spoke to him. Her gray eyes complemented her hair color, and Jim wondered if the color was natural. He struggled to focus on his present situation.
“My name is Mary, and I was an emergency room nurse at George Washington University Hospital. You may have a concussion and you need to lay back down and get some rest.”
A fine mist still obscured the edges of Jim’s brain, so he took a moment to process what the woman said to him. The room didn’t look like a hospital ward, but a cheap office space in a large warehouse building. He sat on the edge of a makeshift bed made with a thin mattress on top of a pile of wooden pallets. Mary wore dirty scrubs and Jim noticed the bags under her compassionate eyes.
“I’m Jim Richards. Where are we? What happened to the girl?”
“Hello Jim. We’re safe in an abandoned warehouse on the Virginia side of the Potomac. Those monsters won’t be able to reach us here. They brought you in alone. Sorry, there wasn’t any girl with you.”
Deep down, he knew the fall had been the child’s doom, but one can always hope for a different outcome. Big Jim never spent a lot of time in DC, but he tried to recall the map of the area. He knew the protocols that the government would execute, and Jim needed to figure out if they really were safe.
“How far are we from DC?”
“Oh, Jim. No need to worry. We’re safe here from those monsters. Plus, they have a small armed group inside the warehouse. Nothing to worry about. Just rest.”
“No, you don’t understand the containment protocols. They will attempt to contain the threat and that’s bad depending on where we are. We need to move.”
Big Jim rose from the bed and felt the ground sway like a boat on rough seas. He needed to get it together and get out of here. Jim staggered toward the door as Mary raced after him.
“You need to lie down. You’re in no condition to go anywhere.”
He ignored Mary’s words and continued to walk into the large open space of the warehouse. Random boxes and garbage were scattered throughout the area, along with several years’ worth of dirt and dust covering everything.
“Easy, big man. I think you should go back in there and lay down. You look like shit.” It was the first voice he heard speaking to Mary. This guy was a shifty-looking character who proclaimed his gang status openly with the clothes he wore from before the world’s collapsed.
“Look, y’all are welcome to stay here, but you’re going to die if you do.”
Two more men joined the first. All were smaller than Jim and had pistols stuck in their ill-fitting pants. Even in this weakened state, these three men posed no threat to Jim. The man who spoke drew a ratty looking nine mm pistol and pointed it at Jim. Like a gangster on TV, he held the gun sideways.
“I’m the one with the gun, so you need to listen to me, big man. Get your ass back in that room.”
With one practiced quick, smooth move, Big Jim twisted the man’s wrist and took the gun away from him. No one reacted in the second the act took for Jim to execute and relieve the man of his weapon. He pointed it at the three men and spoke in a clear, calm manner.
“Don’t think about reaching for those pistols because I’ll kill the three of you without blinking my eyes. Using two fingers of you left hand, place your weapons on the ground and kick them over here.”
The two thugs glared at him, but both complied with his command. Both guns settled to a stop about ten feet from the closest man. His attention never faltered since he had been in worse situations like this before, and he knew the potential dangers.
“You’re dead, big guy.”
“You’re so funny, little man.” Jim knew his words would escalate the situation, but he needed to move things along. No need to placate the thugs and play their games.
“You should always be nice to people. I’m going to leave you behind to die now. Don’t blame me, you had a chance. Mary, you can stay here with them or go with me.”
“I’m with you, Jim. These punks kidnaped me from the hospital two days ago and brought me here to nurse their wounds.”
“Ok, that’s settled. Sorry, guys.”
Big Jim swung his left hand around cold clocking the closest gang member on the side of his head. His head snapped back, and he dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Thug number two attempted to bum rush Jim, but his second strike landed on his temple and rendered him unconscious. The last scum bag ran for the exit rather than stand and fight with Jim.
“Please stop. I don’t want to do this.” Gang banger three continued to run until Jim drilled him three times with nine mm rounds from the pistol he held. One to the head and two to center mass, just like they had trained him. The entire confrontation took less than 15 seconds. Mary stood looking at the victims with her mouth hanging open.
“Mary, do they have a vehicle we can take?” His words caused her to jump and turn toward him.
“Yes, but I don’t know where they keep the keys.”
A quick check of the pockets of thug number one produced a set of keys with a Cadillac emblem on them. Jim held them up for Mary to see and she led them to the door thug number three h
ad run toward. Outside the door Jim found an Escalade with large custom rims and a jet-black paint job. It was the type of ride any self-respecting gang member would approve of.
The engine roared to life and Jim awoke the in-dash GPS to find the quickest route away from Washington DC. They needed distance and needed it quickly. Once he found their location on the map, he put the Caddy in gear and floored the accelerator. The big truck responding with squealing tires and they tore off down the road.
“What’s the plan, Jim?”
“Survival. We need to put distance between us and the city as fast as we can.”
“Why? What difference does it make?”
“The government has had containment protocols in place for years. There’s always been a threat of chemical weapons being used against a major US city. An outbreak because of this type of terrorist attack needs to be stopped and contained so it doesn’t kill everyone in the country.”
“You think this was a chemical weapon attack?”
“Who knows, but I’d guess not. We’d all be affected if it was. The principal is the same, though. Protect key citizens and then cleanse the land of the plague.”
“Ok. So, how do you cleanse the plague?”
“With fire. What produces the biggest, hottest fire? A nuke.”
“Wait, a minute. You think they’re going to nuke Washington DC?”
“Not think, I know they’re going to. If they don’t, then no one from the government survived, and we’re all doomed.”
Mary shook her head and turned away from Jim to stare out the passenger side window. He wondered what she thought about. The rise of flesh-eating monsters, being kidnapped by gang members, and now escaping with someone who sounded like a conspiracy nut. Problem was, Jim had done his time serving the government, and he only told the truth as he knew it. Instead of worrying about her reactions, Jim kept driving away at speeds not safe for normal travel. Traffic wasn’t an obstacle, but the roads were littered with abandoned cars. They had made it to the edge of what should be the damage radius, and Jim thought they might make it to safety.
A blinding flash lit up the sky from behind. “Get your head down!” He yelled, knowing what would come next.
The pressure wave caught them a few seconds afterward. It caused the rear windows of the Cadillac to explode inward. Big Jim lost control of the SUV and they crashed into the ditch on the side of the road. As the airbags exploded, Jim’s ears rang, and his head throbbed with pain anew. Consciousness stayed with Jim this time, but part of him wished for a brief break from all the pain.
Dust from the deployed airbags settled, and Jim knew OnStar wouldn’t be sending any assistance this time. Any help would be of the self-service variety. After taking a quick inventory of all his aches and pains, he discovered no serious injuries, just throbbing pain coming from all over his body.
“Mary, are you ok?”
No response to his question, but she may not be able to hear him yet. Airbags sound like shotguns firing and are deafening inside the confined space of a vehicle. He turned his head toward the passenger side and discovered the real reason Mary didn’t respond.
When the pressure wave drove the Escalade off the road, it crashed through a chain-link fence before coming to rest in the bottom of the ditch. A post from the fence broke loose and impaled Mary’s head through the truck’s seat. Another companion who traveled with Jim and another death. Everyone dies, Jim thought.
Big Jim pushed the driver’s door open and climbed out of the wrecked vehicle. They came to rest about 30 feet down in the gulley, so he climbed up the hill to the road. He confirmed his hypothesis of being in the light damage area from the blast. Buildings still stood, but the windows on the side facing DC had shattered and blown in. This action of attempting to purge the threat told Jim that someone in the government survived, and if Jim wanted to continue living, he needed to head west while avoiding any major cities.
After an hour of walking, Jim came across a bike shop. He liberated an e-bike to continue his trip. Luck blessed Big Jim because he found a bike in his size with a full charge on the battery. The battery lasted for three and a half hours and moved him another 60 miles. Jim thought his direction of travel had been west, but without a compass or GPS he actually traveled in a south-western direction.
With a dead battery on his bike and sunset coming, Jim looked for a place to spend the night. A deserted suburban home provided the needed oasis for the evening. The power was still on in the home when he arrived, so Jim plugged in the bike for a fresh charge. He found a Ford F150 pickup truck in the garage with three quarters of a tank of gas and a filled Jerry can with gas for the riding mower. He’d throw the bike in the bed when he left to provide backup transportation, but take the truck to move faster.
The pantry was well stacked while the refrigerator held little food beyond some condiments. It made Jim think the owners were out on vacation when things went bad. Part of him felt guilty about stealing their food and truck, but who knew if they would ever return to their home. They were just as likely part of the undead horde now. With the rise of the zombies and the fall of nuclear missiles on US soil, the world had become a different place. Survival of the fittest ruled the land, and Big Jim intended on surviving.
CHAPTER FOUR
Three Years Earler
BIG JIM RICHARDS laid naked next to Lily Nelson while sleep eluded him. He should be able to relax, but the doubts about his unknown future swirl through his mind. They both survived the mission, and this had been his last hurrah. Retirement would be his reward for the 15 years he served in this dangerous profession, and he faced the unfamiliar for the first time in his life. He had carefully orchestrated each moment of his life until this day.
Lily stormed into Jim’s life as the CIA Liaison for his final three missions. She was fit, funny, and beautiful. Her laser focus got Jim and his team through their missions with no difficulties or any lost lives. All objectives were met and now Big Jim was free to live his life as he wanted. Why couldn’t he shut down his brain and rest? The release granted from satisfying sex helped him to relax most nights, but not tonight.
The clock read 2:37 and sleep still stood out of reach, so Jim eased out of the bed. He tried to not disturb Lily, but she stirred as he rose.
“What time is it?” She asked, finishing her question with a long and audible yawn.
“Depends on your perspective. It’s either really early or very late. Go back to sleep.”
“Why aren’t you sleeping? Is everything ok?”
“I’m fine. Just can’t shut my brain down tonight so I can sleep. Go back to bed. One of us should get some rest.”
“Didn’t I tire you out enough earlier?”
Jim chuckled. “Yes, dear. You’re the best. Just too much on my mind.”
Her breathing changed, letting Jim know she had fallen back asleep. He slipped into his clothes and stepped out onto the balcony of their hotel room. With Uncle Sam paying the bill, they stayed in a five-star ocean front hotel. The room was on the 32nd floor, but he could hear the waves breaking on the shore because of the silence of the early morning. Who else was awake? Big Jim sat and listened to the waves and soaked in the fresh salty air. All the while, he let his mind drift back over the last 15 years of his life.
On his eighteenth birthday, Big Jim tried to enlist in the military. His plan had been to become a member of the special forces. Problem was, people his size don’t fill those rolls. The Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines all passed on his request. Both the Navy and Coast Guard recruiters said his size wouldn’t work in either of their branches in any roll. Their rejection discouraged him, and Big Jim almost gave up on the idea of serving his country.
Then a man in a black suit approached him to tell Jim about the classified group called the Problem Solvers (PS). If Big Jim committed to a 15-year term in the PS, he’d get the most elite training, serve his country on special missions, and retire with a full pension. Anyone on the outside would se
e his service as a Marine and he would retire as a Colonel with a full military pension. It seemed too good to be true, but Big Jim had no other prospects, so he accepted the offer.
The training had been grueling. Twenty-four months of physical, mental, and weapons training which made Navy Seal training look like a pleasant stroll through the park on a Sunday afternoon. It transformed James Richards from a capable barroom brawler to an elite killing machine. Big Jim proved his talent as the most dangerous man in the world with each completed mission.
Along the way, Jim learned why the 15-year term had been dangled in front of each prospect’s face. Military recruits looked forward to 20 years of service before they received their retirement. Those who served in the PS rarely made it to the 15-year mark. Many outstanding soldiers lost their lives or were permanently disabled during Jim’s time serving. They called the PS in to complete missions when and where official forces couldn’t act. For instance, the Posse Comitatus Act didn’t let the military operate in the United States, but enemies of the State can live and function within the country’s borders. One call to the PS and these enemies disappeared for good.
Because of Big Jim’s long and successful career, he reached the level of team leader. This gave him insight into the workings of the PS itself and a behind-the-scenes glimpse at the United States Government’s operations. Jim knew the government’s response to terrorist attacks, virus outbreaks, natural disasters, enemy attack, and even defending against zombies. They had made jokes for years about CONOP 8888, but Jim knew the reality behind their plan.
The first light of dawn illuminated the morning sky with brilliant red, orange, and yellow colors. It would be a beautiful day with a clear blue sky. Big Jim’s first day of the rest of his life. He felt more unsure about his future than he had on his 18th birthday. How do you reinvent yourself at 33 with no life skills except violence? There was always the family’s corn farm in Iowa, but he had been away forever.
Operation Z | Novella | Everyone Dies Page 2
