Zombie Battle 4: War

by Jacqueline Druga

  Chapter Ten

  London, England

  For the seventh time in just a few days, Prime Minister Lucille Walker tried and failed at making contact with anyone in authority in the United States.

  Delegates from the United Nations had pulled out since an outbreak had grown at a rapid rate in New York City. Most delegates had already waited out their three day quarantine, while others patiently held hope that they weren’t infected.

  But Lucille knew better. She had been given enough information from the WHO and CDC—before they collapsed—that only ground zero patients didn’t need to come in contact with blood or saliva of the infected.

  So if the delegates weren’t bit or scratched, they were fine.

  But those who spent more than forty-eight hours in Peru around ground zero stood a great chance of bringing the virus home.

  The WHO estimated 75% of those soldiers and workers who had been there caught the illness.

  Those who brought the virus home weren’t really her concern, but they brought it to the United States and Germany, of course.

  She spoke to the Secretary of Defense a few days earlier when the President was attacked and killed. He wasn’t in charge of the country, but, in light of recent events, she wondered if anyone was. The news out of the United States was sketchy.

  There were some areas of the country untouched by the infection and some so overrun; Lucille wondered how it would be contained.

  Germany was a different story and for that word she waited on Swanson, her aide and friend. He, like her, hadn’t slept more than a few hours at a time. He didn’t look too bad when he entered her office.

  He moistened his lips, dropped a folder to her desk. “Border patrols are up. Unified troop support from France, Italy, Russia and China.”

  “This is good. Very good. I have an emergency meeting with those leaders tomorrow. But tell me more about Germany.”

  “Like with us. No more cases reported. The wandering and, may I add, the culprit that started the outbreak on the plane …”

  “Hans?”

  Swanson nodded. “Shot as he walked. He did however, scratch a teenager in a car that pulled over to help him. Luckily those teenagers heard the report and instead of crossing the boarder, they turned themselves in.”

  Lucille sighed out. “Anything else Italy, France …”

  “No, but like with SARS, they are diligently keeping watch.”

  “Good. Good.”

  “No news from across the pond?”

  Sadly, Lucille shook her head. “But I won’t give up. Not until the moment I step into that meeting tomorrow.”

  “You have that press conference. How are we explaining Germany? Did we decide?”

  “We did. I did,” she said. “We are simply going to blame it on a wayward US navy submarine whose infected and delirious captain released a bay of missiles. Cities in Germany, unfortunately, were the recipients of her actions.”

  Chapter Eleven

  North Carolina

  With Jerry perched on her hip, Irma followed Garrick around the fortress as he packed things in a small canvass backpack.

  “Garrick, please,” Irma pleaded. “As noble as this is, leave it to the professionals. I am sure Jack can find someone else to help.”

  “Irma,” Garrick smiled. “You’re so damn cute. I am a professional. I was in the service.”

  “You aren’t now, you’re with us. We need you. I need you. I feel safe with you here.”

  “That’s awesome. But Lil can handle a weapon and so can Steve.”

  Irma shook her head. “He’s not you.”

  “Is anyone?” Garrick joked.

  “Garrick Long, this is not the time for jokes. You hear me?” Irma scolded. “This is real. What is going on out there is real.”

  “I know and I locked myself away here.”

  “For good reason. Stay. Look at little Jerry.” She squeezed Jerry’s cheeks. “He adores you.”

  “And I adore him. But Jack needs me and to be honest, if he called me, he knows together we can get this job done. Then, like Jack said, we go get your Saul.”

  “I have faith in you and Jack as a team, but before you meet up with him, you must ride that motorcycle alone. Alone. What would your mother say?”

  “She would probably say I was nuts.”

  “Then listen to your mother,” Irma said.

  “But my father would say go.”

  “Listen to your mother.” Irma sighed when she saw the door open. “Steve. Lil. Tell him.”

  Garrick spun in surprise when Lil and Steve walked in.

  Steve asked. “What’s going on?”

  “Garrick’s leaving.” Irma answered. “Taking the motor bike and leaving.”

  Garrick exhaled. “Jack called and …”

  “Jack called?” Lil rushed to him. “Is he ok?”

  Garrick held up his hand. “He’s fine. He needs me though. He was abandoned by his squad and needs my help on a mission.”

  “No,” Lil shook her head. “He needs to get here.”

  “Exactly,” Irma added.

  Steve was a bit calmer. “What’s going on Gar?”

  “According to Jack,” Garrick replied. “He was on his way here when the Secretary of Defense radioed. Said some shit has happened, there’s no more DC…” The loud eruption of ‘whats’ caused Garrick to lift his hand. “Jack said he’d fill me in. But Lance is in charge, buried deep in a bunker and Jack is his only real point of contact with any remaining soldiers. He needs Jack to do something, a mission. Jack could do it alone, but would rather not, and asked for my help.”

  “Bullshit,” Lil argued. “This isn’t a invasion from a foreign country. This is the walking dead. My God, Jack’s obligation to his country and as a soldier is done. This isn’t a war.”

  Garrick smiled peacefully. “Uh, Lil, you’re wrong. This is a war. A war against the rise of the undead. And when, not if, Jack and I complete this mission with success, then the war will be over. Until then …it rages.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Washington, DC

  “Radiation levels are still way too high,” Don told Lance. “The automatic door won’t even open until levels hit one Gray.”

  “Where are we now?” Lance asked.

  “210 Rad or 2.01 Gray.”

  “Should it be that high?”

  Don shrugged. “We were hit with three.”

  Lance paced. They were feverishly trying to reassemble some sort of government. They couldn’t reach all the military and they had two main points of communication. Jack Edwards and Cleveland.

  Lance called that absolutely ridiculous.

  A young tech, a radio specialist in the navy, called for the General. “Sir, communication, almost seems blocked in some capacity.”

  “How is that possible?” Lance asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m working on it. Only a third of all cell phone signals are getting out. Best means of communication right now are satellite phones and some radio frequencies,” the tech replied. “We lost communication with a lot of our satellites. So the information we got about where the tridents hit, was the last information we received. At all.”

  “So basically,” Lance said. “We got to get the hell out of Dodge, head to Cleveland.”

  Don chuckled.

  Lance turned his head. “That amuses you?”

  “It’s Cleveland. Who would have thought Ohio, right smack dab in the middle of a lot of shit would be clear. Especially a metro like Cleveland.”

  “I’m sure there are a lot more cities out there like Cleveland, but it’s just the one we can talk to.”

  “We know Pittsburgh isn’t good and that’s not far from Cleveland.” Don replied.

  “Let’s just hope,” Lance said. “Pittsburgh isn’t so bad that Jack can’t make it through.”

  “Well … you heard what Dodds said. If they can get close to him, they’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, well, Dodds was stoned out of
his mind.” Lance said. The mumble of ‘I would be too’ from the tech caused Lance to stare at the young man. Lance grumbled in a sarcastic way. “Would you like some marijuana young man, would that make it all better? Huh? Take a little toke here and there. Maybe take a high flight out and see if you can find Dodds in la-la land.”

  The tech laughed.

  “That’s funny?”

  The tech cleared his throat. “No, sir.”

  Don pursed his lips. “Actually, it is funny, Lance. Ease up on the boy. There’s only twelve of us down here and he’s been helpful.”

  “Hey, Sir.” The tech called for his attention. “I’m able to lock in on a surviving surveillance camera down by the Capital.”

  Lance and Don hurried to view the monitor. The picture had a lot of static, but it was still clear enough to make out images.

  The Capital for the most part was still intact, except the dome. The steps were rubble and small fires roared. The fires lit what appeared to be a city darkened with ash and smoke.

  “Wait.” Don pointed. “Is that movement? People are alive up there and walking?”

  Lance shook his head. “Look closer. The dead are still walking.”

  The tech added. “Barely, but they are. It’s the brains Sir. Any good zombie follower knows that. They still have a brain intact, they still move, burned or not.”

  Don sighed heavily. “Then how will the plan work.”

  “It has to.” Lance said. “It takes a totally different approach.”

  Don asked. “And you never mentioned who this guy Dodds really is. How you know about him?”

  “Christopher Dodds.” Lance answered. “Brilliant weapons developer, but turned green and liberal on us. Hijacked his prototype and took off into hiding. On the positive side, he wasn’t a threat to national security.”

  The tech interjected,, “Then it was a lucky shot calling out to him. Good thing you found him.”

  “Son,” Lance laid his hand on the tech’s shoulder. “He had a lockbox of death. Trust me when I tell you, we never lost him.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  North Carolina

  How long had it been since Jack had seen Lil? It felt like a lifetime but in essence it was only two weeks. He’d been gone longer than that when he was deployed. But this was different. This was big, extinction level and of all places he should have been with her.

  If he finished the mission successfully, then Jack had done the most important job. In a different way he was protecting America from invaders foreign and domestic. Of course the military would have to add to the oath, ‘and all other fucked up things.’

  Lil. He missed her. He loved her with every ounce of his being.

  The affair of her recent past, the one that caused Jack to stop speaking to her, looking at her and acting like a husband, that affair had drifted to the back of his mind. It no longer held the high level of importance it once had.

  It seemed trivial. At least at the moment.

  How different would things have been had Jack not actively sought out the detail in Peru.

  He thought about that on his drive to the Armory. And he thought about it as he parked, waiting for Garrick, on the road that led to the compound --- a mere sixty miles from the mountain safe haven of the Fortress.

  Had Jack not gone to Peru, conceivably he would be at the Fortress with Lil. Perhaps not.

  His base had been notified of possible infected soldiers returning from Peru. Jack probably wouldn’t have paid too much attention to it. Lil, on the other hand was always looking at conspiracy theories and odd news. She would have enlightened Jack on the ‘outbreak’

  Jack would have been in his office when all hell broke loose on base. He would have made it to Lil and she would never have had to make the escape like she did. She wouldn’t have been scared.

  But would they have gone to Garrick’s?

  More than likely, Jack would have sent Lil and Jack would resume post.

  He wouldn’t have met Saul.

  What Jack didn’t realize was how instrumental he actually was. How it was a good thing, at least for his country, that he was mad at his wife.

  Had he not gone to Peru, he wouldn’t have saved Carlson. While Carlson was the biggest culprit of the outbreak in Atlanta, his antibodies were the main ingredients in the antidote.

  No Carlson, no Antidote.

  No Jack, the CDC would have gone under. He wouldn’t have been there when the CDC worker turned and caused the chaos and death, Saul, his wife and grandson would have succumbed as well. Jack saved Irma.

  So much that Jack had done, but he didn’t think about it. All that was on his mind was his wife’s safety and the mission on hand.

  A mission he initially thought absurd, but after thinking about it, it was shot of winning the war on the undead. A shot Jack had to take.

  He just wished he had more to go on. An address maybe of the scientist. All he had was a message that stated he’ll know for sure that he found the right place. Pittsburgh was big, and Oakland, which was part of Pittsburgh, wasn’t a small town. It was a city within a city. Businesses, clubs, hospitals and schools.

  With Garrick, he’d figure out what they needed and head the eight hour jaunt.

  At least Cleveland was a straight flat, highway trip. That would eliminate finding more gas.

  The flutter and motorcycle sound snapped Jack from his thoughts and he smiled brightly when he saw Garrick in all his militia glory riding his bike.

  Garrick slowed down and the stopped the bike a few feet from Jack. He hopped off and ran enthusiastically toward him.

  The two men embraced.

  “Before you ask, your wife is great.” Garrick said.

  Jack let go with a laugh of relief. “That’s good to know. Mrs. Klein? How is she?”

  “I have this weird infatuation with the woman. But, you know, she’s married.” Garrick shrugged then laughed.

  “The baby?”

  “Awesome.”

  “How was your ride here?”

  “Interesting. I didn’t stop,” Garrick said. “But are the zombie kids some sort of mutants, because they fucking chased my motorcycle at a high rate of speed.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Kept riding. I couldn’t get a good shot. They moved too fast.”

  Jack winced. “Garrick. They’re kids.”

  “They’re the undead, Jack. Deal. Man …” He sighed. “Amory up that way?”

  “Yeah, we need to go in armed, just in case.”

  Garrick nodded. “I didn’t see one bit of normalcy in my short trip. You said there were nukes. Country’s fucked up. What are we gonna do?”

  “Hopefully, if this works, we try to fix it.” Jack gave a friendly swat at Garrick. “Ride with me.” He moved to his armored vehicle and Garrick followed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cleveland, OH

  The barrel of the gun was no more than two feet from Saul’s head. It didn’t worry him nor did it rattle him. In fact, Saul was at ease knowing that should something happen to him or if he turned, he wouldn’t cause the damage and a single bullet would end his reanimation.

  He worked alongside Dr. Powers, not too close though.

  At first, Dr. Powers assured him that should Saul turn, he wasn’t simply going to close his eyes, open them and be one of the undead.

  Then Saul retorted, “But wasn’t that what happened with Specialist Carlson.”

  Dr. Powers then kept a small distance.

  Did Saul think he was going to turn?

  He didn’t believe so, but he had to wonder if it was just wishful thinking. His bite wound, not a day old, was healing nicely. Actually a lot better than a normal human bite wound would. Human bites carried massive amounts of bacteria. Typically some sort of infection occurred But Saul’s wound looked good. More than likely it was the ‘soup’ mixture antidote that carried aside from an antiviral, it contained an antibacterial.

  Saul felt good, a bit odd, as if he w
ere on some sort of adrenaline. He had a case of internal jitters and every little smell bothered him, making him momentarily queasy.

  He guessed, another side effect of the drug. Then again, maybe it was the bacterium working its way through his blood stream.

  Saul figured a few days and he could stop worrying. Specialist Carlson turned in two days after completely healing. So Saul used that time frame to gauge.

  He was tired but he kept on working. They used the science building at the college as the modified new CDC and it was nowhere near as secure as they needed it. Cleveland was infection free and there was no way Saul or Powers was taking the chance of bringing in a bite victim. Testing infected victims was the reason for outbreaks in other areas and the reason the CDC collapsed. The only victim allowed was Saul and he was closely monitored.

  The first new batch of serum would be ready for testing and for that a special team would chopper it to Louisville at the end of the day.

  The second batch would go to Fort Jackson, South Carolina the following day. The final batch would go to North Carolina.

  If all tested successfully, they’d begin a raw manufacturing process; find a second facility to help and simply, as best as they could, drop the serum to infected areas.

  There was no way they could manufacture enough to help everyone, but if they could control the current outbreak, they could get a grip on it.

  The Secretary of Defense assured Saul and Dr. Powers they were working on that.

  For the most part, Saul and Dr. Powers were on their own, coordinating plans with the local National Guard to distribute the antidote.

  The bright spot in the day was a young man of nineteen at the college campus radio who was able to make contact with military units still manning radios and waiting on orders.

  Aside from the medical aspect leaping the hurdles, the military side was able to make some progress. While most had gone AWOL, the diligent ones, like Jack were there, on call, selflessly protecting the borders.

  Nonetheless, a communication gap existed, a big one. Saul experienced that first hand. The main hub of the government, what was left of it, had limited communications as they sat in a bunker two hundred feet below a destroyed Washington DC.