ZNIPER: A Sniper’s Journey Through The Apocalypse.

by Ward III, C.

  It was then, looking to the far side of the field, that Victor saw fast-moving fragments of what appeared to be an odd alien-like naked person sprinting through the tree line, disappearing into the shadowy forest.

  Stephan and Kevin enjoyed dinner with Harry and Helen Cooper immensely. Trying hard to not rudely slurp down the heavy, warm meal too quickly, they shared information back and forth about current events in the local area and what it was like on their journey from Detroit, up the coast, and across the state. Kevin asked where they were exactly as he pulled out his map, confirming his navigation fears. They were far behind his original planned timeline.

  They sorted through Anny and Dan’s equipment, deciding what they could part with. They offered an M4 rifle, a Glock pistol with Gundo Holster, and a full P-Mag for each, a backpack, and a pair of Steiner binoculars. Kevin and Stephan spent a little time that evening coaching Harry on how to disassemble, clean, and operate the weapons.

  Appreciatively accepting the equipment, Harry offered each a glass of warm bourbon as they sat around the kitchen table. Stephan decided to warn them about the looming biological outbreak. Being a former nurse, Helen was interested in the details and asked plenty of questions about the parasite.

  “Well, the complex parasite portion of the new hybrid seems to be one of the twenty human contractible species of Leishmania.” Erica informed their hosts. “What makes this parasite so peculiar is that to promote its survival in the host, it will modulate the immune response of the host, giving the parasite the most optimal breeding environment. It’s a horrid flesh-eating disease that starts with small bumpy rashes, then grows into painful, large volcano-shaped ulcers, finally crusting over with thick scabby layers. Normally these skin lesions are isolated, but in the images I have seen, the patient was covered with them. Affected people in early stages usually have fever, weight loss, and swelling of the spleen and liver. Leishmania is normally transmitted by sand-fly bites, but with the hybrid? Who knows? Could be bodily fluid transfer or maybe casual skin-to-skin contact.”

  After more questions and answers about the parasite, Harry offered them a clean upstairs bedroom, which was gratefully accepted, although Kevin asked to sleep on the couch, closer to the front door.

  When they woke in the early morning, the smell of eggs and ham filled the house. Stephan stumbled into the kitchen to see Kevin already at the table with a cup full of steaming black coffee and a childish grin.

  After breakfast, they began to pack up to get an early start on the day’s hike. With a stern warning about how it’s considered rude to not accept a gift, Helen gave them each a brown paper bag with lunch and dinner to take. Stephan took it reluctantly, thanking her again for their generosity.

  “I was thinking last night that our barter wasn’t quite fair. The items you gave us are very valuable. I want to give you these two handheld HAM radios I had in the basement. Unbelievably, they still work! Before you say no, I have three more to spare. So don’t worry about it.” Harry took a few minutes to give them an impromptu communications class on their capabilities, program channels, and how to turn them on and scan.

  “We are very appreciative, and thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Cooper. Be cautious who you let in next time, though; even healthy people who are not infected with this disease are going to start becoming forceful for basic human needs.”

  Kevin and Stephan shook hands with their hosts and set out across the farm field to continue their journey west.

  On the beach, a larger-than-normal crowd gathered around a blazing bonfire, finishing generous portions of venison BBQ graciously prepared by the local family diner. After the meat had been cooked, a load of wooden pallets from a nearby store were carried down to add some height to the fire.

  As the city mayor stood on a picnic table and addressed the crowd, Victor scanned the townsfolk, noticing only a couple of people were openly armed, other than his family and the sheriff’s department of four.

  The mayor used Victor’s discoveries as an example, asked everyone to search their basements, barns, and neighboring property for electronics that may still work. An electrician made a comment that if any operational gas-powered generators where found and brought into downtown, a small electrical grid could be managed.

  An idea proposed to have a similar community dinner every night, to report project progress and disseminate information, was very well received. They understood that if they ate community food, they had to conduct community work. Seemed fair enough.

  There were many topics addressed. Most topics were agreed upon, and others brought out complaints from the crowd. They all generally agreed that certain tasks needed to be quickly prioritized, and many people volunteered.

  The resale thrift shop owner said they had several bicycles that could be donated to the town and a pile of scrap bikes that could be cannibalized if the they could get some assistance. With a soft, saddened voice, one of the nursery owners offered to replace all the beautiful potted flowers with vegetable seeds. Several elderly ladies offered to help her. She mentioned starting a community compost pile; several local farmers agreed and discussed other agricultural solutions. Considering the population, almost all the men and half the women wanted to be on the hunter teams. An arrangement was made for designated groups to have specific days of the week, giving everyone time in the woods and time for other laborious projects.

  The sheriff suggested to those residing in the countryside to relocate closer to the town’s nucleus. He could not promise a rapid response—if any response at all—to the outer rural areas. Sheriff Bohner addressed the increase in violence and how any hostile situations would be swiftly dealt with if his department was to be involved. Self-protection was more critical now than ever before.

  Victor offered marksmanship and weapons-handling classes to anyone interested. He recommended the homes who owned more firearms than people arm their neighbors who had none. “Individually, we are weak; as a working collective, we are strong. Violence is coming. The harder we work, the better we make our living conditions, the more others will want to take what you have worked hard to produce. They will do this out of desperation, greed, jealousy, or just plain evilness. All are basic to human nature.”

  A younger gentleman by the name of Nicholas announced that his boss at Andy’s Gun Works located on the edge of town might have a mediocre inventory of hunting rifles and ammo. “He’s a business man, so Andy won’t just give it away. He’ll expect a fair trade for sure,” Nicholas concluded.

  At the beginning of the meeting, most of the faces wore expressions of individual survival and sadness, but as they departed for the night, there was a sense of tribal strength. By the end of the evening, everyone seemed to have a sense of purpose again. Instead of gloomy desperation and fear, there was hope.

  UNWANTED GUESTS

  Party crashers are the worst.

  A few days later, Stephan and Kevin attempted the previously successful room-and-board bartering trick again. But this time they only received unwelcomed profanity and threatening warning shots from the occupant.

  Tonight, they made camp in a small wooded clearing. Just as they got somewhat comfortable around a low-burning campfire, the air became thick and stagnant. Shortly after evening dusk faded into darkness, there came the sound of a light drizzle pitter-pattering on the overhead forest canopy.

  Visually assisted with only small flickers of a drowning fire, they quickly strung up rainwater collectors using empty trash bags and boot laces. Other trash bags were wrapped around their packs to help keep their equipment and spare clothes dry.

  At first, the light rain was an uplifting refreshment that subdued the sweltering summer heat and chased away the maddening mosquito swarms. Hiding behind separate bushes, Kevin and Stephan stripped down naked, excited for a natural revitalizing shower, scrubbing and rinsing off weeks worth of sweat and grime while laughing like kids in a backyard water sprinkler.

  They repeatedly tried and failed to find dry t
imber to keep the comforting campfire lit as the light sprinkle increased to a steady rainfall. It quickly became clear that in this section of the forest, there wasn’t much material to make shelter out of, and it was now too dark to search farther out or relocate camp. There was no place dry enough to sit or sleep. Their lighthearted mood dissipated. It was going to be a long night.

  Sometime later, the night sky erupted with a blinding flash and long-lasting angry rumbles. The rain turned into a full-on monsoon-style downpour. Stephan’s soaking wet baseball cap fell off her face as she rolled over miserably, drenched and cold, disappointed to not see a warm, glowing fire or a morning sunrise. When an energy bolt lit up the sky with an instantaneous crack that vibrated through her, she looked directly into the wide, frightened eyes of Kevin, who was holding one finger over his mouth in the “hush” gesture while his other hand clenched his pistol close to his chest.

  Surprised and startled, her body went stiff. Not daring to move an inch, she searched the blackness of the forest for any threatening signs. The rain was heavy, the wind was blowing, and her shivering muscles ached from lying in a soggy pile of leaves. Another violent explosion of lightning strobed the forest scenery.

  There. Only a hundred feet away at most. Had she really seen it? She rapidly blinked the pooling rainwater out of her blurry eyes. In the flash, she had seen what looked like someone standing naked in the woods. Something with an alien-like sickly gray skin. Was it watching them? It was, just standing there in the rain, motionless, staring. Her pulse quickened; she could feel her heart thumping against her rib cage. She held her breath until she felt dizzy. The blackness was constricting, suffocating.

  The night sky lit up with a long burst, sending streaking lightning bolts in all directions. Yes, it was there, still standing and staring at them—but it was not alone! Stephan sucked in sharply through clenched teeth as she counted three more of them squatting against trees, close to the first one. When the flash ebbed and the forest went dark again, she slowly slid her hand down across her body to her holster, where she found the grip that gave her comfort from the darkness closing in on her. Without a sound, she brought her pistol up to her chest just as Kevin had done.

  In the next flash of light, her eyes quickly flickered from the horrifying group of statue-like intruders back to Kevin, who was very subtly shaking his head no while trying to mouth something unreadable. She took it as a signal to not spring to her feet and start shooting wildly into the night, which was exactly what she desperately wanted to do.

  She lost track of time. She felt drained. Her entire body hurt. It seemed that these demonic creatures of the night had either not noticed them or were not interested. Each flash of lightning became less intense and further apart. The thunder was just a distant rumble now.

  She kept her eyes locked in their direction, studying each time the forest lit up with a quick glimpse. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle again, but the wind was still strong, blowing leaves and branches wildly. She suppressed a scream when, without any warning, all four of the ghastly creatures were standing only ten feet away as the sky faintly glowed from the now-distant storm.

  Then, without a sound, they were gone, like ghosts in the wind. The following morning, Kevin and Stephan both swore to never sleep in the open again.

  “Good morning. This is Elizabeth Corrin bringing you today’s BBN global news reports. Europe has been rocked by a series of overnight attacks that EU officials have classified as the most extensive coordinated terrorist attack in world history. Explosions at parliament and transportation facilities in Paris, Madrid, Zurich, Warsaw, Frankfort, Amsterdam, Copenhagen, and even here in London.

  “Unverified reports of the PLO, Hezbollah, the Islamic State and many others are all claiming responsibility for what is being declared the most devastating coordinated Islamic attack since 9/11.

  “The EU financial markets, which were scheduled to reopen today, will remain closed until further notice. Here in the UK, all banks, schools, and nonemergency government services will be temporarily halted. All citizens are being asked to remain home from work today. This morning, the Ministry of Defense, along with other NATO forces in cooperation with Russian Military Intelligence, have launched a full-scale retaliation in what some are already labeling World War Three.

  “In other troubling news, UN officials have stated that Chinese relief efforts in western America have had significant setbacks as major violent outbreaks are prohibiting aid distribution. We’re getting reports of Chinese aid workers being attacked by desperate unarmed civilians who are fighting—even scratching and biting—for much-needed basic provisions.

  “The deployment of the Admiral Kuznetsov aircraft carrier has been announced by Russian officials to assist Chinese relief in America. Russian officials claim security resources are being utilized for humanitarian efforts only. The same officials, however, would not comment if the standard armament, including twenty-four military helicopters and thirty-six airplanes, were on board.

  “The curious question still remains: Where is the location of the United States’s Atlantic and Pacific fleets? Some fear that commanders have gone rogue.”

  It had been a week since Victor had attended the first town meeting, and for the most part, he was quite pleased with how this small town was pulling together.

  The minor inconveniences of not having internet, a pumpkin spice latte, or air conditioning seemed trivial when a person wasn’t sure where their next meal was coming from. First-world problems had been replaced by real-world problems. Clean water, food sources, basic sanitation, and security were the focus of the community.

  The greatest accomplishments were made by a group of elderly women who had transformed the local flower shop nurseries into food-producing greenhouse gardens. Several farmers decided to pull in closer to town after their own homes had been repeatedly attacked. Those farmers drove their old antique tractors into town and decided to disc up the high school football field and any other available open, flat ground. All those little vegetable sprouts at the flower shops would soon be transplanted in the new community gardens.

  The largest community engineering project was to keep the city’s waste-water treatment plant operational. What seemed like a fairly simple retrofitting project in theory had, in fact, been problematic in every way possible, using every mechanic, plumber, and electrician in town only to figure out they didn’t have the proper parts, which would need to be procured or fabricated by hand.

  Victor taught his first weapons handling and marksmanship class to a class of four: two teenagers, the family restaurant owner who was now the designated community chef, and one elderly lady who owned a greenhouse garden. Even with such a disappointingly small group, Victor gave it his all, showing them how to safely operate their firearms, how to load and unload, basic marksmanship fundamentals, and the best way to carry a weapon to access it quickly. He thanked them for coming and asked them to come back for additional training.

  Victor signed up for various labor projects when he wasn’t involved with Sheriff Bohner. At the moment, he was helping process firewood, Zavier was helping in the gardens, Michael was on a hunting party, and Curtis was on a scavenger team systematically going from empty house to empty house, searching for anything useful. So far, they had been very successful, finding odd working electronics, small caches of canned food, cast-iron cookware, gardening tools, some firearms and hunting knives, fishing equipment, a lot of rowboats, bicycles, and even a couple of old working cars and four wheelers!

  As usual, they would all come home dirty and tired. Of course, there were a few lazy individuals inside the city limits who felt they deserved a nightly community meal ration without contributing in any fashion to the labor duties. These loud-mouthed parasites had made enough of a fuss and had all the convenient excuses to still get a meal, but that sort of leaching mentality was contagious and must be snuffed out quickly.

  On the south end of town, long stretching shadows cast by the
growing mound of firewood signified to the wood-splitting crew—Victor, Bob, Ted, and Victor’s next-door neighbor, Ben Cortman—that it was getting late in the day. Sunburned, sweaty, covered in sawdust and filth, all of them with aching muscles, they decided to call it quits and trudged back toward town. One good thing about this new catastrophic lifestyle: Victor was quickly losing his beer gut.

  The lumberjacks were casually walking down the center of the road, each with an axe over a shoulder, bragging and joking about how many logs he had split compared to the weakling next to him. They laughed and fantasized longingly about how great a cold beer would taste, which led to another bolstering argument of what beer was best and what was piss water. They all hollered their disparagement when Victor said all IPAs taste like pine sap.

  Halfway back to the center of town, their enthusiastic conversation topic of tomorrow’s hunting and fishing duties was cut short by a spine-chilling shriek coming from deep inside the neighborhood to their right. Instinctively, they all went from a casual stroll to a defensive squat, clutching their axes with both hands.

  “The hell was that?’ Bob whispered.

  Victor looked around at the obviously nervous group of lumberjacks, “Don’t know. Let’s go check it out.”

  “Shit, no. Are you crazy?” Ted asked.

  “Someone is either in trouble or that was some sort of large animal. Either way, we should go check it out,” Victor replied.

  “I have a better idea: let’s continue on this here road and go tell the sheriff to check it out! That’s his job, not ours!” Ben cried.

  Thankfully, Bob spoke up and said, “All right, Victor and I will go scout it out. You two hurry back into town and send help.”