Evolution Z : Stage Two (An apocalypse zombie survival thriller Book 2)

by David Bourne

  It seems that hell has been closed due to overcrowding, and as they cannot get in there, these undead monsters now walk the earth.

  During the first two days there still had been news broadcasts. Josh could remember seeing live images on TV, which allowed you to experience first-hand how the big cities were the first to descend into chaos. Initially, there were isolated outbreaks of violence, but soon afterwards, whole groups of the undead went on a rampage. Large parts of New York had been hopelessly lost on the first day. Everything was happening much too fast, and the governments of the world were simply unprepared for such a cataclysmic phenomenon. In addition, the authorities were paralyzed by the sheer number of trouble spots. The outbreaks seemed to happen concurrently in all parts of the country.

  The virus—or whatever it was—seemed to spread rapidly in areas with dense populations. Cities with millions of inhabitants fell prey to the disease within days. One instance was depicted in disturbing pictures circulating from Tokyo: They showed hordes of the undead flooding the streets like ants and carrying along every helpless living being.

  As usual during catastrophes, there were a lot of speculations, including far-fetched ones. There were tales of how people supposedly infected each other via blood or other bodily fluids, or how someone’s fate was automatically sealed if they had small scratches, bites or other open wounds.

  The undead were merciless and attacked any living creature without hesitation. Father, mothers, children, the old and the young–zombies did not discriminate. Even animals were often not safe, which stood in contrast to the disease itself. The virus apparently only affected humans since there had been no confirmed reports of an infected animal.

  The government of the United States had largely collapsed. The President had fallen victim to the virus on the very first day of the outbreak. According to media reports, he had been torn apart by a group of undead during an attempt to escort him from a press conference.

  At the same time, the Vice President had been evacuated from Washington, and there were different rumors circulating around the base about his whereabouts. Some said he had been taken to a bunker in the Rocky Mountains, while others claimed the Vice President was now located on an aircraft carrier in the Gulf of Mexico. Nobody knew for sure. Josh considered all of this nothing more than pure scuttlebutt.

  On the second day after the outbreak, communication networks began to permanently vanish in many areas of the country. Josh’s dad talked about the theory concerning a misdirected nuclear missile that had exploded in the stratosphere and eliminated many satellites through an electromagnetic pulse. Later, the debris from this event caused more and more communication satellites in geostationary orbit to fail. This meant the military was essentially blind and dumb, which also clearly helped the virus to proliferate.

  Long-distance communications were only possible through satellites in low Earth orbit. Early on, a clever Navy communications officer had recognized this capability, and this subsequently allowed at least a part of the armed forces to remain effectual. Unlike the satellites in higher orbit, though, the problem with these satellites was communication was limited to occur only during certain time frames when it was in close orbit. In practical terms it meant transmission was allowed for fifteen minutes a day, during which an exchange of messages over an area the size of the United States was possible.

  Currently, Fort Weeks was able to use exactly three of these low orbit satellites: At 3 a.m. and 6:30 a.m., as well as shortly after 4 p.m. Even as communication was partially reestablished, it was shocking to discover that only a handful of existing military bases responded to these radio messages. There was sporadic contact with several bases in Texas, with Wheeler Army Airfield in Hawaii and Fort Jackson in South Carolina.

  Since the widespread chaos had broken out, the entire US West Coast became a large black hole of uncertainty. Fort Weeks had received no messages from there, and the other contacted bases had no specific information about the area, either.

  During the first few days, as far as they knew the rest of the world appeared in even worse shape. In Russia and China, the government had attempted to slow the spread of the virus by targeting nuclear attacks on cities. The only effect this had—besides widespread devastation—was that nuclear fallout killed people faster than the undead did. Large parts of Asia had already perished on the very first day.

  Little was known of the situation in Australia and Africa. In Africa, many countries had no functioning government even before the outbreak of the virus occurred, as various warlords dominated individual regions. It had to be assumed that the virus would have accelerated this splintering effect, and there was hardly any semblance of structured governments left.

  Europe had also descended into chaos as governments were desperately trying to master the situation. Yet, all over the world it soon became clear that no nation had probably expected such a massive “attack from within.” There were practically no plans in place to deal with a previously unheard of situation of such magnitude, and the end-results were that uncertainty, leadership rivalries and panic led to the doom of entire countries.

  All of this fragmentary information consisted of nothing other than internet rumors, scraps of news and made-up myths. The total scope of global devastation could only be guessed at since no direct contact with other continents had been established yet. The hope that perhaps an entire country could resist and defeat the virus on its territory was considered wishful thinking by most people. They thought it much more likely that there were no safe zones to be found, and that no one would rescue them. It was because of this that people in Fort Weeks had agreed to create their own microcosm before larger plans could be made.

  Since the first days of the outbreak, all roads leading to the base had been destroyed or blocked, with the exception of the main road. Numerous machine gun emplacements had been set up, and soldiers took shifts on guard duty. Nobody entered or left the base without the permission of a superior.

  Departure

  After the patrol had moved on, Ray, Scott and Phil removed the deployed airbags at once and inspected the overall condition of the van. The dent in the radiator grill caused no problem, but the missing sliding passenger door would make it difficult to drive. “If we drive without the door, we can’t go faster than twenty-five to thirty miles per hour. This means we’ll need twice as long to get there,” Phil said.

  “And we can’t risk something falling out, be it food, children—or dogs,” Ray said with a grin.

  Scott picked up the door. It was not only bent but its hinges had been torn off. “This monster’s incredibly strong,” he said.

  “It certainly was unusual,” Ray noted.

  “Whatever, but we’ll have to fix the van,” Phil urged them. “Or somehow get a new one.”

  “Well, I don’t see one here. Maybe there’s one in the nearby town, according to the map,” Scott said.

  “I don’t think it’s worth the risk. Who the hell knows what kind of other creatures might be running around here. We have to drive directly to Fort Weeks,” Ray sounded determined. “Let’s try to fix this crate as best we can.”

  “Okay, Scott and I will take another look around the store. You watch Chris and the children,” Phil said. Ray nodded in agreement.

  After a while, Scott and Phil returned with a heavy blanket they had located in the store. Scott had also found a rivet gun in a small shed nearby. Phil immediately started attaching the blanket to the open side of the van.

  Meanwhile the children were passing time by playing with Watson on the grass next to the vehicle. Ray, with his machete once again firmly attached to his belt, sat on a nearby rock in the sun and guarded them. He was brooding over his earlier fight with Scott and wrinkled his forehead. The altercation still bothered him because he knew his friend was right. Ray had never wanted to be a leader, not even back when he had been a Boy Scout. He disliked making unpopular decisions, which as a leader you are forced to do. His position as an a
irline captain had given him authority, though he never felt that he had actually earned it—quite the opposite, in fact. When he looked back at his old job, he mostly remembered his constant drinking and all the affairs he’d had with various female flight attendants over the years. Ray did not consider himself the prototype of what an ideal man should be.

  In spite of this, there were people who liked him, and even those who loved him. His ex-wife Debbie had once loved him, even though he liked to call that marriage a youthful indiscretion. When he married his second wife Melissa, he had even sworn he would change for her sake and he did until after the births of Tom and Eve, when he eventually found himself sliding back into his old habits again. He contemplated the circumstances of how he had gotten into this situation. The plane crash had brought about a series of disastrous events in his life that by now were completely beyond his control. Ray was certain, though, that he could have behaved more rationally in most, if not all, of these dangerous situations if he had been sober and of sound mind and body.

  He had only survived his drunken stupor in Muntly because Scott had saved his sorry ass. On that day, if by chance that man hadn’t appeared out of nowhere, Ray would have been too drunk and out of it to avoid turning into one of those horrible beasts—beasts whose very existence he greatly despised since Cathy’s untimely death.

  Maybe Cathy could have ultimately saved Ray. Maybe she could have been the one person in this world who could have steered this drunken, worn-out pilot back on the right track. Ray placed his head in his hands and recalled images of his lover. He was sure the others wanted him to go on, to strive and to do his best. Whether he wanted it or not, he was now responsible for his friends. No, it wasn’t Cathy who could have possibly reformed him. This alone had to be his decision, and if he needed a sign from above for it, he had just received one.

  At this very moment Raymond Thompson, for the first time in his life, seriously decided that he definitely would stop drinking eventually. He understood that it would be difficult for him to adhere to his decision on a day to day basis, but at least he wanted to try to by using all possible means available. If he was going to have to be a leader, he at least wanted to be a good one.

  A tall figure blocked out the sun. Scott stepped next to him and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

  “I hope that our argument doesn’t come between us any longer, Ray,” Scott said.

  “How could it? I messed up, Scott, and not just once.” Ray seemed to be dismayed.

  “That might be so. But you also did many things well. Many people owe you their lives, and the fact that they criticize you should only spur you on further. If you didn’t matter to them, they would simply ignore you.”

  “I hope I can regain their trust–and yours, too,” Ray replied in a remorseful manner.

  “I’m pretty sure about that. In our current situation, you’ll have a chance to do something every day,” Scott encouraged him and held out his hand. “The fact that you’re thinking about it shows me how important this is to you,” he added.

  Ray allowed Scott to pull him up and smiled. The tall man had found the right words. Ray’s mood was still not at its best, but from now on he would work on his shortcomings. He hoped that Cathy was watching him at this moment, wherever she might be.

  “Let’s get in the van, Scott. It’s about time we got to Fort Weeks. We all could use some sleep and a hot shower.”

  “I like you much better when you show enthusiasm.” Now Scott smiled as well.

  Ray was always fascinated by Scott, decided he would try to get to know this friendly lumberjack better. He had never asked him many questions about his family or his life before the catastrophe. There just hadn’t been enough time for that, and he wanted to make up for this as soon as the opportunity arose.

  Scott walked back to the others. In the meantime Phil had temporarily attached the blanket to the side of the van. It was a stopgap solution, but it had to do. After meeting the soldiers from Fort Weeks, everyone seemed optimistic again. Scott hoped that from now on, things were looking up for them.

  “Let us take along some extra gasoline. I am sure they’d be glad to have it at Fort Weeks, and this way we can thank them for saving us,” he said.

  “Let’s do that. We still have space for two or three large gas cans,” Phil said in support of his idea.

  Ray was already busy doing that. “I’ll take care of it, guys.”

  Phil stared in disbelief, but Scott winked at him.

  Shortly afterwards they were ready to go. Chris was still lying in the rear, and the others had left him as much space as possible. Ray sat with Watson and the kids on the middle bench, a location he didn’t care for at all. The dog gave him a devoted look, but Ray just grumbled to himself. Robbie and Fiona, on the other hand, were in seventh heaven. Phil had allowed them to bring some more Tootsie Pops, plus they also had a dog to play with. This time, Scott sat at the steering wheel , as the van dependably started up and they departed the gas station and convenience store to make their way toward Fort Weeks. The mood on board the van was better than it had been in a long time. After the air had been cleared between Scott and Ray, most of the tensions had dissolved. Scott even allowed himself the vague hope of finding his beloved wife Jane and his son Sam at Fort Weeks. Hope dies last.

  They rolled down the road, and after some initial excited conversations, everyone became busy with their own thoughts, except for Fiona and Robbie, of course. Phil broke the silence.

  “If we keep going at this speed, we should be there in an hour. First thing, I’m going to take a hot shower, and then I’ll get some freshly brewed coffee,” he announced.

  “Coffee...” Scott sighed. “I hope those guys have some meat. I’d like a juicy T-bone steak, medium rare—and about a half a ton home fries with it.”

  “Isn’t there enough meat on you already?” Chris laughed at his own joke.

  “You better be glad you’re injured, babyface,” Scott growled. The men laughed out loud.

  “Stop it, my poor body is hurting,” Chris finally pleaded.

  New Acquaintances

  The group passed some more stranded vehicles along the way to Fort Weeks, but by now they had grown accustomed to seeing such a sight. On the horizon, they could see a substantial forest, and in front of it there were large fields that had been recently harvested. Several undead were roaming around the fields, looking for prey. The group just drove on. The road now rose upwards slightly, and there were guardrails on the left and right side of the road. Beyond these, the ground fell off steeply.

  After they had passed this short stretch, the road sloped downhill and then reached level ground again. Now they saw nothing but fields around them, so obviously, this was a major farming area. Phil suddenly nudged Scott’s arm and pointed forwards through the windshield.

  “What’s that, Scott?”

  Scott squinted and looked into the distance. He saw a figure with both arms raised, standing on the left side of the road about two hundred yards away.

  “Could be one of those damned beasts, folks. Better hold on tight, in case there’s a crash.”

  Phil looked in the same direction and shook his head.

  “Take a closer look, big boy. That damned creature is a she, and the lady is waving to us, if I see it correctly,” Phil explained, in a surprised tone.

  Now the others could see the figure, too. A young woman wearing jeans and a red T-shirt stood by the side of the road, frantically waving her arms. She was standing next to a wooden sign that had been driven into the ground:

  Glenston Farm.

  Cattle and Vegetables.

  Farm Store only 400 Yards from here.

  Scott slowed the van down to an almost complete stop. He turned around to the others. “Looks like that poor gal needs our help. What do you think?” he asked.

  “Drive closer, Scott, I know you want to take a good look at this,” Ray answered.

  “You seem to know me too well, alr
eady,” Scott replied and drove on slowly.

  “Get ready, in case some of those beasts are lurking around here,” Phil warned them.

  Scott stopped next to the woman and lowered the driver’s side window. She seemed to be under thirty, had long, reddish-blonde hair and many freckles across her face. When the van stopped, she almost leaped toward the van’s window. Scott noticed a baseball bat studded with nails lying on the ground next to the wooden sign.

  “Thank heavens you stopped. I need help urgently, and I don’t know what to do,” the desperate woman said.

  “Just calm down and tell us what happened.” Scott got out and stood on the road in front of the van. The woman almost rushed at him, buried her head against his chest and started to sob. After a while, she calmed down and started to talk.

  “My name is Jenna Kingston. My husband is Toby, and we just got married recently. When we left the wedding chapel, we already saw the first incidents in the street. After a while, Augusta was in total chaos, and we just wanted to get out toward the countryside. Toby said there was a military base here, with lots of soldiers. He drove straight through and got us here. But at the entrance to the farm, he said he felt dizzy and held his hand against his forehead. He drove down to the farm to find a place to hide. Then he simply collapsed in the car, and I wasn’t strong enough to carry him into the house. That’s why I went back to the road to try to get help.”

  “Rather optimistic to expect a car to come by, don’t you think?” Ray asked. Scott glared at him.

  “What else could I’ve done?” Tears filled her eyes again.

  “You must excuse my friend Ray. He can be rather gruff sometimes. My name is Scott. How long ago did this happen?”

  “About two hours ago. Toby is still breathing, but I can’t get him to wake up. Please help me!”

  “Of course we’ll help you. Grab your baseball bat and get in. If we squeeze together, we can take you both to Fort Weeks.”