Zombie Rules (Book 7): The Fifteens

by Achord, David

  “But we don’t,” Bob said. “But neither did Melvin.”

  I chuckled again. Back earlier that same year, Melvin got drunk and drove to DC. How in the world he escaped unscathed is unknown, not even by him.

  “For what it’s worth, even though it was criticized, I thought the mission was sound in principal and I agree that the order to abort was the right call.”

  “I appreciate that,” I said.

  We both knew that the team had originally attempted to push on. The first structure we came to was a retail strip mall. A simple in and out resulted in two casualties and somewhere around five hundred rounds of ammo being used.

  “Which leads to my next question. Even though we know there are a multitude of zeds out there,” he emphasized it by pointing his finger in the direction we were going, “why are we going there?”

  “The main reason is we no longer have eyes on the DC area,” I said. The satellite that maintained a geosynchronous orbit of the DC area was offline, and in spite of our best efforts, we had been unable to reestablish contact with it. “We’ve got to get some kind of idea how many zeds are still in the area.” I glanced over at him. He was staring with a look of concern etched into his features.

  “I’ll try not to get us into something we can’t get out of, but we need to know a couple of things. How many there are, and how close they are. I mean, obviously they’re within walking distance, but did they walk all the way from Baltimore or is there a horde of them living somewhere nearby? We have to get good Intel and a decent zed count if we ever want to conduct scavenging missions in these cities.”

  “Understandable,” Bob said. “Do you think there are any pockets of survivors living in the inner-city areas?”

  I shrugged. “It’s possible, but we’ve never had any communication with them and back when the satellite was online, we never observed any artificial lighting, but it’s possible.”

  “I’m still amazed these zeds are still alive after all this time,” Bob remarked.

  “Yeah, that’s what Joker and the team said. Half of them were frozen; the others were still awake. Those cities had a population of around a half-million each.”

  “Two hundred and fifty thousand hungry zeds,” Bob surmised. “Alright, you’re the analyst—how many do you think are left?”

  I frowned. “That’s the ultimate question, Bob. Let’s say there is a fifty percent attrition rate. That’s a liberal number, and if it’s true, that means there’s still over a hundred thousand of them.”

  “I can see that,” Bob said.

  “They could easily swarm us,” I said. “It wouldn’t be pretty.”

  Bob sighed. “We were convinced they’d all die off after the first year and we could simply move in and pick up the pieces.” He shook his head. “We were so naïve.”

  “Only a few people even thought this kind of thing was even possible,” I said.

  “My neighbor was one of them,” Bob said. “He was a virologist. He told me once there were hundreds of millions of viruses that have not yet been discovered. He even believed meteors and comets carried viruses. He wrote a couple of papers about it. He was a strange little man. I should have listened to him more.” He was silent a minute before speaking again.

  “You never said why,” he remarked. “Why are some of them freezing solid while others are not? I’ve read your report, but you left out your gut feeling on the matter.”

  “I’ve talked it over with the docs, like I wrote in my report. I can only speculate at this point.”

  “Alright, speculate,” Bob urged.

  “My gut feeling is a lot of these zeds have their heart pumping again. Not all of them, but a lot of them. Flowing blood gives oxygen to the brain. A cognizant thought process, even to a small degree, gives them enough to know how to survive the cold. You know what a kid said in one of my training classes? He said they were like penguins. Penguins hover together to ward off the cold. And, I would not be surprised if some of these zeds are remembering how to dress themselves.”

  “Like Patient Eve,” he said.

  I glanced over at him. He wasn’t supposed to know that little fact, but I acknowledged it.

  “Yes, like Patient Eve.”

  “Interesting,” Bob said and nodded his head thoughtfully. “So, Zach, I have another question. If we’re certain there are still thousands of zeds in these metropolitan cities, why are we going back there?”

  “We have to get actual Intel,” I said. “We’re running out of resources, Bob. Until we get some factories going again, we’ve got to tap into places that haven’t been touched because of the zeds.”

  “I understand. Personally, I never knew how fond I was of lavender-scented toilet paper until we ran out.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, me too.” I pointed out at the roadway. “These roads are so rough I haven’t been driving over twenty, but if it gets hairy and we encounter runners, we’ll need to speed up, and if we do that, we could possibly pop a tire or damage a steering component.” I glanced over at him and gave a sarcastic grin. “If that happens, I hope your cardio is good, because we’ll be running for our lives all the way back to Detrick.”

  Bob’s face paled and his Adam’s apple was bobbing up and down. I think he was beginning to regret this decision.

  Chapter 35 – Zach and Bob in Maryland

  I slowed to a stop under some power lines that were still intact. The Columbia Pike exit was in front of us. It was eerily quiet; derelict cars and a lone skull with weeds growing through it were all I saw.

  “What now?” Bob asked.

  “I don’t think I’m ready to venture into Baltimore with just the two of us,” I said. “Let’s take Columbia Pike and drive a couple of miles in each direction.”

  Before Bob could respond, I took exit 29 and headed south. Soon we were approaching the Ellicott City exit. On impulse, I took it.

  “Do you see something?” Bob asked.

  I shrugged slightly but didn’t answer. In truth, something didn’t seem right, but I could not articulate it. The exit was a lazy curve, and as I went around it, what I saw caused me to slam on the brakes.

  “There’s something you don’t see every day,” I said and pointed. When Bob saw, he frowned. A zed was on the side of the road, sitting on the trunk of a derelict automobile.

  When Bob saw what I was pointing at, he gaped in puzzlement. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a zed casually sitting. That is what he’s doing, am I right?”

  “Seems to be,” I said.

  Bob un-holstered his handgun as I let off the brake, allowing our truck to slowly creep forward. The zed was dressed in jeans and a torn Orioles baseball shirt.

  “Not much decomp,” Bob observed.

  He was right. The zed was dirty, and he had some scratches on his face and arms, but otherwise, he did not look overly damaged. When we got to within ten feet, he slid off the car, stumbling a little, and then began walking toward us. Stopped again and put the truck in park.

  “Should I shoot him?” Bob asked.

  “Let’s save some ammo,” I said. I retrieved my knife and stepped out.

  The zed immediately charged. I parried an outstretched arm as I sidestepped and was about to stab him in the head when the zed did something that totally surprised me. He pivoted and caught me with a left hook, causing me to stumble.

  If the zed had more strength, he might’ve knocked me off my feet, perhaps even knocked me out. Yeah, I was surprised, but my years of training and experience paid off. I shuffled back as the zed charged forward and knocked him back on his heels with a snap kick to the chin. I didn’t give him a chance to recover. I stepped to his right and plunged the knife into the side of his neck. Twisting it, I pulled forward as I extracted it, causing the razor-sharp blade to open his neck from the jugular to Adam’s apple.

  Black blood spurted out. The zed was undaunted and tried to grab me. I circled him, curious now, and lunged out with my knife, poking the tip into his left eye. He rea
ched up and grabbed at his injured eye, which surprised me again.

  “It looks like you can feel pain, my ugly friend,” I said.

  He stared at me with his one good eye. If zeds could show emotion, I’d guess it was a mixture of confusion and fear. I squared off, preparing to deliver a fatal stab to the brain. The zed stumbled back, turned, and began to stagger away. I watched as he made it about thirty feet before falling to the asphalt. The black substance, the zed blood, began pooling around him.

  “We’ve got company,” Bob whispered.

  I glanced at him and followed his gaze. A dozen or more zeds were shuffling up the road from Columbia Pike and emerging from the overgrowth. I pointed at the truck. Bob needed no further direction. We secured ourselves in the truck and watched as the zeds ambled toward us. I put the truck in reverse and maneuvered around a couple of large potholes before being able to turn around.

  I wasn’t fast enough. Three zeds were able to jump into the bed of our truck. I was forced to increase our speed in order to create some space between us and the pack that was following behind us. I hit a sizeable pothole which was both good and bad. The good of it was, the impact jolted the three zeds off. They each took hard landings on the asphalt.

  “Alright, you’re going to have to shoot them,” I said to Bob. “As soon as I find a reasonable spot, I’m going to jam on the brakes. As soon as I do, you jump out and do it, copy?”

  Bob nodded nervously. Two of the zeds had worked their way to the rear window of the truck and were pulling on the wire grating that protected the window. I slammed on the brakes, causing Bob to lurch forward and grab the dashboard.

  “Go!” I shouted as I threw the truck into park and jumped out.

  Bob was a half-second behind me. One of the zeds had been thrown over the roof and had done a face plant into the asphalt. I focused on one of the other zeds, who had somehow held on and was even now launching himself at me. I drew my handgun and put a round one millimeter under his nose. I glanced over at Bob, who was taking careful aim of a zed that was struggling to get to its feet. The zed charged Bob and almost had him before Bob finally shot it.

  The third zed had tried to dive off the roof of the truck onto Bob. I shot him in midair and he landed on Bob, who let out a loud oof. I ran over, pulled the zed off him, and helped him to his feet.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Alright, let’s get out of here.”

  I put the truck in gear and took one long look at the zeds before driving away. The zeds were young men, perhaps in their twenties. One was black, the other two white. I got the impression they were college boys at one time. There was nothing else remarkable about them; their decomposition was scarred over, which seemed to be the norm now. I glanced over and saw Bob looking at his hand.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  “That last one scratched me. His fingernail, I think,” he said and held up his hand.

  I saw a thin red line on the back of his hand, perhaps an inch long. As I stared at it, a small line of blood started to seep out. He poured some of his water on it and rinsed it.

  “That’s not going to be enough,” I said and looked around. I didn’t see any zeds, so I stopped the truck.

  “Reach into the glove box and get out one of those lighters,” I directed.

  Bob gave me an odd expression but opened the glove box and found a fancy cigarette lighter. I held my hand out. He handed it to me.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

  “Cauterize it,” I replied and grabbed his injured hand by the wrist. “It’s going to hurt.”

  It took a couple of strikes before I got a flame and held it up against the cut. Bob clinched his teeth and emitted a painful moan. He instinctively tried to jerk his hand away, but I held tight. After four seconds, I let go. He pulled his hand away and stared at it.

  “It’s already blistering up,” he said. I noticed his eyes had watered up. “Was it really necessary? I’ve been vaccinated.”

  “Better safe than sorry, right, Senator?” I said. He gave a reluctant nod.

  “Alright, be careful with that. Don’t wrap it up just yet,” I said.

  “Are we heading home?” he asked.

  I glanced at him again. His face was pale, and he kept staring at his hand. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to find another road to backtrack and get a better look at that horde of zeds, but I took pity on Bob.

  “Yeah, let’s go home.”

  Chapter 36 – Team Flash

  The team headed up I-64 and took the Fort Eustis Boulevard exit. They found a place to park their vehicle among a few other cars parked at a hotel on Highway 60 and headed out on foot.

  They had offered to drop off Norma and come back for her later, but she insisted on staying in the safety of the SUV. When they parked it, Sully gave her a look as he pocketed the key fob. Norma glared back but said nothing.

  They spread out and started walking southwest along Charles Street. The mosquitos from the nearby city reservoir descended on them quickly.

  Suddenly, they heard a car horn honking several times followed by three gunshots. The three of them stared at each other in concern.

  “That came from the direction of our SUV,” Flash whispered.

  Sully and Erin agreed, and the three of them started running back toward their vehicle. As they rounded a military transportation museum, they were encountered by a dozen men armed with a mixture of handguns and rifles. Erin instinctively raised her weapon. The men reacted quickly and opened fire. Erin and Sully were riddled with bullets and were dead before they hit the ground.

  By pure fate, Flash was not a full target for the men. Sully happened to have been standing in between the men and Flash, thereby absorbing most of the bullets. Flash was not unscathed though. One bullet struck the stock of his rifle, knocking it from his hands, and another bullet grazed his shoulder.

  Flash was a young teenager when the plague hit Virginia City. He’d never fired a weapon before, and had no special training or skills. His only athletic skills were skateboarding, basketball, and soccer. He could run. He could run fast and far. That’s how he survived. He outran both zeds and hostiles. It’s what he did, and it worked.

  He ran now.

  A bullet zipped by his head as he rounded the corner of the museum’s main building and out of their line of fire. He heard a man’s voice shout out.

  “Get him!”

  His shoulder was throbbing, and his right wrist had twisted the wrong way when the bullet struck his rifle, but his legs and lungs were fine. He ran like the wind, zigzagging in between buildings and soon reached a subdivision that had been ravaged by fire.

  They were close; he couldn’t see them, but he could hear them. Flash knew he needed to hide. He looked around anxiously. All the structures had been burnt to the ground. Flash regarded the destruction of the house closest to him. He heard a shout nearby and did not hesitate.

  He sprinted over to a pile of charred lumber and bricks. There was a small opening where the lumber had fallen against the bricks. It was dirty and it was going to be a tight squeeze, but he saw no alternative. Dropping to all fours, and then to his belly, he low-crawled into the small opening. He then rolled onto his back and tried to carefully place pieces of debris on top of him. He spotted them out of the corner of his eye walking up the road. He lay flat and tried to control his breathing.

  All he could do now was pray they did not spot him.

  Chapter 37 – Zach and Bob Return

  I was glad to get back to Mount Weather. Two days with Bob Duckworth was enough for me. It wasn’t that he was irritating or anything, but there were only a few people I cared to be around for more than an hour, and he wasn’t one of them.

  As a precaution, Bob and I washed down the SUV before bringing it inside the compound. After all, we’d run over a few zeds and their blood and guts were all over the undercarriage. After, we fueled it up and parked at the motor p
ool. Jorge and Josue were nowhere around, so I made a mental note to get with them later and we’d put the SUV on the lift to make sure there was no damage.

  Bob and I went directly to the president’s small conference room. In addition to Stark, VP Rhinehart, Senator Nelson, and Ruth were present. After a moment, Ruth and I had some older satellite photos projected onto the screen.

  “This is where we found them,” I said, pointing at the Columbia Pike exit.

  “That’s on the outskirts of Baltimore,” Senator Nelson said. “Is that where they came from?”

  “That is our presumption, yes,” I said.

  “The odd thing about it, after attacking Fort Detrick, they retreated back in the same direction from which they came,” Bob added.

  “Do you have any thoughts on that, Mister Gunderson?” President Stark asked.

  I found myself slowly shaking my head. “I can only speculate. Perhaps this area is their base of operations or their assembly area. It’s about an hour’s walk to Fort Detrick from there, so it’s conceivable that they chose this location on purpose.”

  This started an hour-long debate which boiled down to two things; what were the zeds up to and what were we going to do about it.

  After the meeting, I only had time to shower, grab a bite to eat, and hug my kids before meeting up with Lisa and the three stooges. Jorge and Isidro had the SUV gassed up and ready to go. They’d also hooked up a trailer filled with the standard inventory we supplied new people.

  “Why don’t you drive,” I suggested to Frazier.

  The truth was, I was tired. My plan was to sit in the back and catch a few minutes of sleep, but Frazier thought otherwise. Every time he came to an intersection, he’d loudly ask me for directions. We arrived twenty minutes later at the beginning of a summer storm. I directed Tory to open the garage door and for Frazier to back in. Once we were finished unloading, I closed the door to the trailer and turned to them.