The dead woman kept thrashing, trying to move--not so much aware of what he was doing, but that she couldn't get to him.
Satisfied she was wet enough, Paul unzipped and shoved down his pants.
Erect, he rolled on a rubber and scooted closer to the undead thing bound to his chair. With a slow thrust, he mounted her, groaning as he did.
"Damn, you are tight, girl--and cold, but I'll warm you up!" he panted, thrusting more rapidly in a near constant piston motion, slowing only a few moments to catch his beer-soaked breath.
The dead woman growled even louder, obviously frustrated to be so close yet unable to eat her meal, struggling against her restraints.
"Keep squirming, that feels great," he moaned.
Thrusting.
Thrusting.
Skin slapping skin.
"Oh, fuck yes!" he shouted, nearly there.
He sped up.
Thrusting harder.
And harder.
And then he heard them.
Coming into the office.
The living dead, groaning at the sight of him, pouring into his office.
"Oh shit!" he screamed.
"No!" He pushed against the dead woman, trying to free himself.
But he couldn't pull out in time.
They were on him.
Moaning with delight, they sank yellow-green teeth into his neck and arm and exposed flesh. Pulling at him, freeing him finally of the dead woman, bringing him down to the floor, penis flapping uselessly against his sweat-matted thigh.
More and more fell on him.
Groping.
Ripping away skin.
Biting.
Eating.
Paul screamed, lamenting not just because of the horrible pain nor that this was the end of an otherwise perfect day, but because he forgot to close the damn front door.
Tammy
Sidney,
Australia.
Night was falling and still people flooded through the streets. Where were they all going? A lot had an idea of getting to an island, any island, out in the Tasman sea. The Royal Australian Navy were taking hundreds away on cruisers--screened of the infection while the Air Force did flybys, giving sitreps as the city continued to deteriorate. Members from the Australian Defense Force shouted through bullhorns for citizens to evacuate, and still Tammy refused to go.
"Tammy, girl, leave me. You need to go while you still can," her mother wheezed through her oxygen mask.
Sitting at her bedside, Tammy glanced out the window at Devonshire Street below. Sirens were blowing by. Troops from the Defense Force marching with rifles. "We'll be safe," Tammy said, not wanting to make eye contact with her ailing mother. "See, the Army is keeping us safe."
Trembling, not from fear but weakness, Tammy's mother reached out for her daughter's hand. "They won't be here forever. I heard. On the telly, the city must be evacuated."
"Then they'll have to take us both."
"Oh, Tammy, you know they can't."
"They have to."
Her mother shook her head.
A jet suddenly flew by, rattling the windows in a deafening roar.
Glancing at the ceiling, Tammy said, "We can stay. I'll take care of you, mum, and we'll wait this out--whatever this is--we can wait it out until they can take us or its safe."
Almost crying now, "Tammy, please, dear. I know you're scared, but it's your only chance. You have to go."
Tammy stood, frustrated. "Why can't I stay? I can take care of you. We'll be okay, I promise."
"The city isn't safe--you know this. I don't think..." she paused, taking deep breaths.
"Easy, mum, you're getting too excited."
"If you stay you'll die--I'm already dying, please do not throw away your life while you still have a chance."
"What are you talking about, mum?"
"When the city is clear, or clear enough..."
"What?"
"They're going to bomb the city."
Tammy scoffed. "What are you getting on about? Who's going to bomb us?"
Tammy's mother gestured to the TV, breathing more rapidly now through her oxygen mask. Her wrinkled skin looking paler in the lamp lights from the posts outside.
Tammy looked at the TV in her mother's bedroom. "You heard about this on the telly?"
Her mother nodded. "The U.S. has already bombed some of their cities...everyone is so desperate to stop whatever this outbreak is, it's serious, dear. Sydney is no different from any other city around the world."
Tammy looked again at the TV. It was off, only her own reflection greeted her. "The United States has bombed their own cities?"
Tammy's mother nodded.
Tammy touched her mouth. She glanced at the door and out at the streets below their little two-bedroom apartment. Across the street, the Bourke Street Bakery was boarded up. People ran along the sidewalk, trying to keep up with the troops who were marching away. It wouldn't take much, she could catch up with them. She could make it out of the city, if she wanted. But then she looked to her mother and said, "No. If this is the end, I want to be with you."
***
The chill and the quiet woke her up. It was dark in the apartment--it was dark outside. Tammy rubbed the sleep from her eyes and edged toward the window. Outside it was still. Not like how it was before, all the commotion. Everyone, or most of everyone was gone, except for the few that seemed to be walking aimlessly. It was hard to tell; a thick fog had rolled in from the bay. The glow from the street lamps and abandoned cars illuminated a dull sick yellow.
Unsure of anything, Tammy turned to her mother.
"Mum?" she whispered.
Her mother was nonresponsive. Her breathing came in gravely rasps.
Let her sleep, she thought.
A heavy thump from her neighbors upstairs jarred her attention.
Tammy glared up at the ceiling.
"What was that?"
Screams now--followed by hungry moaning.
She speed walked to the front door and double checked the locks. Looking out her peephole she could see someone walking by. They looked lost--drunk maybe.
Tammy held her breath, her weight against the door.
The stranger stopped, as if hearing something, sensing something, and turned to her door. She could see his eyes, milky and dead. Blood stains on his shirt and bite marks all over, chunks of missing gnarled skin, putrid looking.
Tammy held her mouth.
He thumped against the door.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Groaning irritably. He wanted in and couldn't understand why he couldn't get in.
"Go away!" Tammy shouted. "Please, just...go away..." she sobbed.
Worked up, the bloodied dead man kept shoving himself against the door. Now another joined in, corralled by the sound of her voice.
Shaking, Tammy moved away from the door.
Maybe they'll go away.
If I ignore them--they'll go away.
Movement in the living room caught her eye.
"Mum?"
Tammy peered into the gloom, greeted only by shadow.
"Mum is that you?"
Couldn't be her--when was the last time mum was able to get out of bed? she told herself.
Tip-toeing and creeping along the walls back to the bedroom.
She peered inside.
"Mum?"
The bed was empty.
Her mother was gone.
"Mum? Where are you?" Tammy called.
Rattling the windows, an earth-shattering siren pierced the night.
Tammy yelped, pressed her hands against her ears.
The siren kept on and on, never stopping, never giving up. The sound it made reminded her of those Godzilla movies, the ones from the fifties when the monster was set loose, they would play that siren, like a nuclear launch or a warning to seek shelter.
"Mum?" she called, unable to hear even her own voice of the droning siren.
; Tammy turned and there she was, standing at the edge of the doorway. How had she missed her? Maybe she had gone to the bathroom?
"Mum? You okay?"
Her mother said nothing. She stood, her white gown fluttering from a breeze coming in from outside. She looked highlighted, illuminated from the foggy glow from the streets below.
God, Tammy thought, she looks like an angel.
"Mum let's get you back to bed, okay?" Tammy went to her, she reached and touched her arm. She immediately pulled back, as if burned by how cold she felt to the touch. Shocked, she gazed into her mother's face. It was pale and twisted now in a grinning contortion.
Was she laughing?
No. Her mother was not laughing.
"Mum?"
With a shuddering growl, her mother snatched her by the shoulder and bit down on her neck, gnawing and sucking and chewing.
Tammy screamed. Punching, kicking her mother.
Released, she fell back. Looking up, Tammy started scooting backwards, clutching at her open neck wound with one hand.
"Mum?"
Her mother chewed and swallowed the pound of flesh she was able to manage from her daughter. Wanting more, she turned and started for Tammy, her movement uncoordinated and jerky.
Tammy kept crab walking backwards until she hit the far wall in the living room. Blood seeped between her wet fingers. Her head spun. Her breath rapid and suddenly heavy and difficult, as if someone was sitting on her chest.
All the while, the siren outside continued.
Tammy's mother fell and crawled towards her, reaching out with clawed hands. Gnashing her crimson stained teeth. Her eyes were empty, like the man outside, the man with the bite marks.
If this was indeed an outbreak, an infection--how--why did her mother change? She hadn't been bitten. She must have passed away while Tammy was at the door. She had died of natural causes. How did she come back?
Tammy's mother, dressed in her now ruined white gown, sank her bloodied teeth into Tammy's calf.
Tammy howled and tried to kick her away.
Her mother held firm, biting again, chewing, ripping.
Tammy screamed and kicked unaffectedly. Her energy, her will gone.
As she had said before, if she was going to die, she wanted to die with her mother.
Outside, the city of Sidney glowed bright as if someone had flipped on the light switch in a dark room. The city dazzled brightly, and then a shuddering wave of fire rippled and shattered glass. And high above the city, a mushroom cloud plumed upwards, consuming everything in its path.
Vessels already set out to sea turned and watched with silent horror. A studious university looking man with a scruffy beard and thick glasses regarded the event and whispered, "Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds."
General Rusk
Part II
Fort Hood,
Texas
"What do you mean, you nuked Seattle?" General Rusk glared into the large TV. A small camera was attached, broadcasting his image back to Washington D.C. On his screen he could see the now acting Secretary of Defense, a sniveling looking pencil-pusher if Rusk ever saw one. On the surrounding monitors were the other Generals, spread-out across the United States, from all branches of the Armed Forces, set up in command posts both large and small.
"General Rusk, this was a direct order from the President, this course of action is--"
"It's a giant turd sandwich"
"General! This situation must be contained. The outbreak is spreading too quickly."
"You didn't even hesitate--did you show the President the recent statistics?"
The Secretary of Defense smirked as if sucking on a lemon. "Those reports are not very promising, General."
Rusk scoffed. "The hell they're not. Our 1st Cavalry Division has just about secured the Austin area. We've marked and evacuated the most densely populated sections and set up checkpoints and refugee camps along the outskirts. Hell, we're preparing Fort Hood to take on the brunt for survivors to find refuge."
General Miller from Colorado chimed in, "Our divisions have also secured most of Denver as well. Whatever this outbreak is, we've got it contained. Infected are being rounded up into detention camps along the southern part of the city."
There was more talk across the monitors. General Thompson from Seattle, Washington had been broadcasting, up to an hour ago, but now his screen was filled with static. Rusk had refused to turn it off, he wanted a reminder of the stakes they were playing with. Many of the other Armed Forces leaders were agreeing with him. The most adamant supporter was a Colonel stationed in Birmingham, Alabama.
The Secretary glared at Rusk through the monitor. "General, Austin is but one of thousands of cities. We simply do not have the manpower to carry out the sort of operation you are suggesting. According to our scientific advisers, the only rational course of action is to target the cities with the largest populations in order to sterilize the surrounding areas."
Rusk shook his head. "Cowards. You won't even consider the possible fallout this will have. What guarantee do you have that nukes will even work?"
"Our very best and brightest scientific minds have--"
"Oh, so we're leaving this up to the eggheads now, are we?"
Silence for a moment. Some nods from the military leaders.
"This argument is mute. The decision has already been made and executed upon. Our first target has yielded positive results showing a 100% sterilization of the city. The President has been in talks with our Allies across the globe and several of them have adopted similar strategies." The Secretary of Defense looked pleased with himself, partially smiling as he stared through the monitor. "I suggest, General, that you get onboard."
Rusk gazed outside the tall glass windows. It was night, but the base had been lit up like a Christmas tree, already civilians were pouring through the checkpoints, desperate to find some place safe, unaffected by this raging disease. They were looking for hope. What kind of hope did nukes bring?
"General Rusk, did you hear me?"
"What am I supposed to get 'onboard' with, sir? Nuking our own cities with a fleeting promise that it'll work? Have you been on the streets, sir? Have you seen this outbreak first hand?" Rusk looked back to the monitor.
"The Capitol and a few key locations, including the White House, have been made secure."
"Made secure by whom? You?"
"Don't be ridiculous. We have several divisions of the National Guard, Marines, and the Secret Service. My place is better served by the President's side." The Secretary rubbed his nose.
"You plan on nuking the Capitol if it is breeched?"
"General Rusk!"
"Didn't think so." He tapped a key on the keyboard in front of him. The Secretary's face disappeared. The others remained, sharing similar expressions.
Rusk looked up at his comrades. "I think we have a problem. POTUS has been compromised. Our now acting President is giving orders that are not in the best interest of this country. They are giving orders based solely on fear, fear of a loss of control."
The others nodded in agreement.
"How can they launch nukes on our own soil?" the Colonel from Alabama spoke up. "This isn't right--they haven't even considered other possible tactics."
"Right! What do we know about Johnson, anyway?" another asked.
"He's Vietnam era," said another.
"Great, perfect example of fubar. Light up a hillside and move along, never thinking the enemy will creep back to that smoldering hill and reclaim it."
"What can we do? He is the acting Commander in Chief."
"I think we know what we need to do," Rusk spoke up.
The group of faces on the monitors fell silent.
"You're talking about treason, General," a one-Star stationed in Arkansas said soberly.
Rusk stared at him. "What choices do we have left? Nuking our own isn't treason enough? The hard fact of the matter is, we need to assume control over the nation, plain and simple. Jo
hnson and whatever cabinet he's retained are not up to the task. If we do not act this country will burn."
More agreements.
The General from Arkansas still looked doubtful.
"Generals, they won't even release the names of the targeted cities. Why not? Why not warn us if they plan on nuking a city near one of our bases of operation? What game are they playing, here? Sure, target the most populated cities. Say they decided to nuke Austin, a slight shift in the wind would toast Fort Hood with radiation. The same could be said of your command posts. Why not tell us unless they want to neutralize us?" General Rusk stood, hands clasped behind his back.
Murmuring spread like wildfire across the monitors.
Shouting.
Arguing.
Finally, a majority agreed. Something needed to be done.
"Okay," the General from Arkansas started, "what do you propose we do? We're already stretched thin in our own areas of operation."
Rusk smiled, he turned and nodded to Captain Morton who clicked away on the keyboard in front of him. He turned back to the screens. "I've just sent each of you an outline for a plan to take control of the Capitol, code name: Operation Continental."
The other officers and generals seem to be reading over the op.
The General from Arkansas frowned at the screen. "And where will you be during the insurgency?"
Rusk struggled to keep a sneer from twitching across his face. "I will be observing from base command."
"Base command? You mean Hood."
"Yes, there isn't enough time for me to meet the units in the field--it's best I stay put. We have several satellites at our disposal and will be giving targets when we can."
"Sure, while leaving the rest to do your dirty work."
Rusk glared at the monitor.
General Machann cleared his throat. "Well, you have my units in Virginia at your disposal. General Rusk. I agree. Something must be done and clearly President Johnson is not willing to hear reason."
"Even with your Infantry, General--" Arkansas started to say.
"You'll have our F-16s, General," reported Guillot. "I'll have a squadron prepped and ready for deployment out of Fort Bragg."
Planet of the Dead (Book 2): War For The Planet of The Dead Page 9
