George's Terms: A Zombie Novel (Z Is For Zombie Book 1)

by catt dahman

  “As long as I am in it, I’m good,” he said, grinning.

  Alex slipped into the chair with Beth, sharing the chair as he got comfortable. She frowned, stood, let him settle, and then plopped down in his lap. He mock-groaned, making them all laugh again.

  Roy narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like queers, or rather he was a little scared they all wanted him. He didn’t like Beth either for the company she kept, queers, blacks, Spics, and tough boys.

  He had endured years of hell in high school when he was smaller and the target of teasing.

  He wouldn’t have tortured Warren, but he did understand some of the views of the little raider group they had run into the day before. He knew he could have reasoned with them in a way that would have kept them from getting killed. He might have joined them, but he didn’t like the idea of torturing people. That was extreme. He wished he could have worked it out for everyone.

  He also didn’t like that Paul’s wife was getting chummy with everyone. A woman had a place, and she was stepping outside her God-given place. Paul needed to get her back into her rightful place. He had grown up a certain way and wanted that standard kept.

  For now, he would try to get along the best he could, and he did his part, no one could deny that, working just as hard as everyone else. He followed Len’s orders like a good little monkey, too. But there would be a time when he and those with like minds broke off to go their own way.

  Everyone kind of waited to see what would happen that day.

  Len had thought to take off the day for rest, but his team was restless. They had kept so busy the last few days that now they could hardly stay still.

  After listening to them, Len knew he couldn’t sit and not train his team. They were too eager. He made sure each had a pack with light supplies and took Kim and Beth, Johnnie, Mark and Misty, Tink and Thurman, Alex, Roy, and Big Bill. Bryan, George, Benny, and a few others would stay on security detail.

  In the lobby, Alex wrinkled his nose.

  “Yes, they smell pretty bad.” Len thought of the second lobby where the remains of survivors and zeds lay amid the rubble and grimaced.

  “Misty and Alex, you are here with Tink to learn gun safety and how to guard properly. Thurman and Roy will not be watching you so much. But they may have advice as you go,” Len said.

  “Alex, you know how to use a melee, and Misty needs to get comfortable with it. The other teams will be coming in and moving bodies out in bags. Keep your eyes open for potential danger, and watch your team to make sure they stay safe.”

  “As we grow, you’ll need your own team, Kim,” Len said, “maybe Hagan, Beth, Julia; I’ll take Mark and Misty. We can see how the rest want to divide up as we go; we will have two teams of six. Then when we grow, we will break off again into new teams.”

  “Len doesn’t want Julia and me on his team ‘cause we take twelve shots to hit a target.” Beth laughed.

  “I heard that,” Kim said.

  “What was with Donna flirting with you guys?”

  “Was she?”

  “Yes, with her husband sitting right there, she was batting her eyes at all of you guys. That’s why Misty kicked Mark under the table and they left.”

  Mark laughed.

  “Hmm,” Len mused.

  The area around the vending machines was clear, and they reported it was okay to loot them. Chocolate bars and candy, chips and crackers, cookies, pretzels, all were there to be added to their supplies.

  A dark crack lined a wall behind that area; they were able to turn sideways and slip into it where it went, cave-like for a few yards, opened to the outside, then continued. They pushed a door open and found themselves in a stairwell that was largely intact.

  “It looks, different.”

  Johnny agreed with Kim. The stairs and the walls were in a different style and different color than what they were accustomed to. Len grabbed his compass and began to mutter, thinking, trying to recall where the hospital stood and where they might be now.

  “Look.” Mark showed them the broken window that led out of the stairway onto a floor. “Hallways.”

  “Hotel?”

  “There was one right beside the hospital. Is that where we are?” Beth looked in. “Oh great, I see movement!”

  “Moaner?”

  “Looks as if the movement might be one of them.”

  Mark grinned, “There will be a fire axe. Hot damn.”

  “Sick pup.” Beth laughed at him. “We gonna check it, Len?”

  “Speaking of violent people. A few days ago, you all shivered in your boots, and now you wanna go looking for zeds to beat with axes. You’re all violent now,” Len chuckled. “What did I create?”

  “Let’s play military; you give orders like that, ‘kay?”

  This time Len almost rolled on the floor, wiping tears from his eyes as he tried to stop laughing. “’Play’ military, Beth?”

  He tried the radios they had pulled from the supplies, wanting to learn to use them effectively. “Alpha calling base. Over.”

  “Alpha, this is base. Over.”

  “Base, we are going into the hotel, location through crack in the wall and stairwell. Request Bryan and Thurman for back up. Over.”

  “I like the radios,” Johnny said, “they make it easier to ‘play’, huh, Beth?”

  “Roger, Alpha. 5x5. Sending Bryan and Thurman. Out,” Benny responded.

  They waited for the two to join them, and Len went over the plan. “Even if no zeds were confirmed, we would be doing this the same, never a safe time; be on alert, and stay smart. Beth, call base, and tell them we are Oscar Mike.”

  “Umm. Alpha team calling base. Over.”

  “This is Base. Reading you 5x5, Alpha. Over.”

  “Base, we are Oscar Mike.”

  “Say, Over.”

  “Over.”

  “Affirmative on Oscar Mike, Alpha Team. Be safe. Over.”

  “Alpha Team out.” Beth giggled. “That’s fun. What is Oscar Mike?”

  “Means we are on the move,” Bryan told her.

  Len laughed, “Bryan, they think ‘playing military’ is fun and hunting zeds and talking on the radio is awesome; what have we created?”

  “I like when you do the Three Stooges thing,” Beth told Len.

  “You do what?”

  “Huh?” Len asked, shrugging at Bryan. “What does she mean?”

  “Three Stooges?” Kim asked her, “What does Len do?”

  With a sigh, Beth showed them, pointing her first two fingers at her eyes, as if she were poking them.

  This time, laughing, Len slid down the wall with Bryan, crying since he was howling so hard.

  Mark and Kim started mimicking her motions, rolling with laughter.

  Beth looked to Big Bill who turned his face, tears rolling down his cheeks as he joined in.

  Thurman leaned down, hands on knees, laughing.

  Johnny tried to keep a straight face, “It means watch me.”

  “I know what it means, but what’d you call it? A Three Stooges thing?” She made the eye-poking sounds from the show and began laughing with them.

  Len pointed out the fire axe to Mark, telling him to get it fast because he wanted to use it since the zeds were moaning and walking their way, now. They moved forward through the door and into a hallway.

  Mark ran over, broke the glass, and got the axe while everyone kept a close watch. Easily, he swung, lobbing off the zed man’s head, following it, and smashing it with the blade, using his boot to hold the head and pull the axe free. Gore from the body was all over the carpets, painting a pattern with red streaks and pools.

  “Sick fucks.” Len laughed at Mark’s big grin.

  “Next time we see one, I want an axe,” Kim said. Big Bill, Bryan and Johnny did as well. Beth, Thurman, and Len shook their heads in mock disgust.

  The halls looked clear but for the one Mark trashed, so they looked at Len to ask what was next.

  Since they had heard random noises beh
ind doors and the zeds couldn’t get out, he suggested clearing what halls they could and then checking rooms if they wanted. Survivors would hear them, hopefully, and call out, if there were any.

  On the third floor, doors to rooms stood open, and there was a lot of movement. Zeds moved in and out of some of the rooms, all in a close group.

  Johnny took a turn calling base and relaying the information.

  “Funnel them. Mark and Kim can use melee if they want…guns on sides,” Len said as Kim, with a grin, got his axe.

  Beth and Johnny stood beside them; Big Bill and Len went down on their knees to shoot.

  Once the sides were cleared a little, Kim and Mark used the axes to chop off heads and crush them. One of the heads rolled past them with its jaws still snapping viciously. With milky eyes, it stared with hatred, unable to moan.

  “See how long it moves,” Len said. They left it intact.

  “Maggie’s drawers, Johnny,” Bryan called.

  “Whose what’s?”

  “He means you missed a shot.” Len laughed. “We’re teaching you military terms.” Len fell back so Bryan could replace him, then, tapped Beth to let him take her spot.

  Kim threw the axe down and tapped Johnny to take her spot. Thurman moved to take Mark’s place when he grew tired. In seconds, the hall was clear of zeds. Johnny smoothly used three shots to hit a zed who had come out of a room behind them.

  “Good eye,” Bryan said.

  “Now that it’s clear, we walk back and check all open doorways and clear the rooms. Big Bill, Thurman, and Johnny, front and back, watching the hallway. Mark, melee, and Kim, sidearm, to clear rooms. Beth, bathrooms, with sidearm. Bryan and I have your backs.”

  Inside the first room, they found a woman half under a bed, most of her legs eaten to the bone. They dispatched her quickly. “Clear,” Beth called.

  “Clear,” Mark said after they checked the room.

  Bryan slammed the door and marked it. “That’s how it’s done.”

  The second and third rooms were clear.

  In the fourth, as soon as they were in, Beth fired. She couldn’t hear because of the echo of the blast, but she yelled it was clear and stepped back.

  After Kim and Mark finished looking around and finding the room empty, they glanced in the bathroom to see an old man on the toilet, slumped over with a hole in his face.

  “Bravo Zulu means well done,” Len told Beth, “and you are a Jane Wayne.”

  He then teamed them up so Beth kept bathrooms, Kim had rooms with Big Bill on gun, and Bryan stood in doorway to watch the hall and room. The other team was Johnny on bathroom, Len in the room with Mark on gun, and Thurman at the door.

  Johnny got a kill, and the other rooms were empty, but it was good practice.

  Mark smashed the moving head since it had not died. “Bastards are still trying to bite,” he said. “How can it keep going without the body?” In curiosity, he looked down at the head, poking it with a boot.

  “The virus must keep the brain active. That is like what the preacher said, as if they were possessed by demons. That’s pretty sick.”

  “If it could, it would bite and infect someone, yuk!”

  The fourth floor was filled with debris, but they covered it all the same, after taking out a horde that wandered the hallway. Most of the hall was so covered with concrete and twisted metal that they couldn’t get through.

  Len kept testing everyone and saying he thought they’d have three teams soon. “Maybe Bryan will take the third…or Hagan…not sure, and Roy can take one for security there at base. I like Benny on radio, though.”

  Fifth floor.

  “Look at that,” Bryan pointed.

  A white flag was being held out from a doorway. It waved. “Hello?”

  “Hello. We came to help any who need us,” Len called. “We can get you to safety, food, and supplies if you need, including medical treatment.”

  “Are you military?”

  “Yes. Just a second.”

  Len and Bryan looked at each other, whispering. Bryan shrugged and called back, “The US military is no longer serving this country, as it took too many casualties and had no orders. However, those remaining are trying to regain control for the citizens of this country. We are the US Militia, Colonel Len Barnhart and Major Bryan Collins with Major Kimball Decker.”

  “Major?” Len whispered.

  “I got promoted. So did Kim.”

  “I’m not in the military.”

  “You are now,” Len said to Kim. “I promoted both of you. This is going too fast. I wanted to think first, but we need this anyway…structure. US Militia? Hells Bells, this is CATFUed.”

  “Cat kung fu? Huh?”

  “Beth, CATFUed…completely and totally fucked up.” Len and Bryan laughed again at her.

  “Gotcha, Major,” she snapped back to Bryan.

  “Mark, you are a captain.”

  “Wow, thanks.” He suppressed a grin while Len glared at all of them. “That was a fast promotion.”

  “Colonel, thank God, you’re here. Conner Pate, Lieutenant, US Army.” A man stepped out and saluted. Len and Bryan and then Kim returned the salute.

  “How many do you have?”

  “Eight adults, Sir. Five children.”

  “Injured? Bitten?”

  “Cuts, scrapes, few minor burns, no bites.”

  “See here,” a man stepped out around Conner, “we’re hungry and about tired of being bossed around by men in uniform. This dickhead left several people down on the first floor, and we need to get them. They are hurt.”

  “Identify yourself.” Len felt his back straighten and the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

  “I’m Steve,” he smiled, coming forward.

  Len didn’t greet him but stood, gun pointed at the ground, still ready. He motioned for the man to step back. Others began to peek around Conner Pate, looking at the team.

  “We have survivors, about a hundred, and food, water, supplies, and doctors,” Len repeated.

  “We need food,” Steve said.

  “Dios.” A large, handsome, Hispanic man walked over, his hand held out to shake. “I’m Juan. We’re glad you’re here.” In jeans, a checkered shirt, and boots, he looked strong and smiled broadly.

  They greeted him with smiles and handshakes. Relaxing.

  Diane was blonde and pretty, and she came over with her sixteen-year-old son, Mike, and five small children, holding hands and staring wide-eyed at the rescuers.

  Rae was a young woman who carried her bag close to her side. She didn’t speak but nodded to them and met their eyes.

  Conner joined them, smiling broadly.

  The three stood close to the open door; Steve was one of them.

  “They are very unhappy with me,” Conner said. “I made two leave us who were bitten. Then, a third earlier today, I refused to take any infected, and they thought that was wrong.”

  “You saved their lives by doing that.”

  “I thought it was the right thing to do, no matter how difficult.”

  “We’ve been out there and all over. Anyone who is bitten turns into a moaning zed. All Reds turn into zeds. If you don’t crush the skull or cut the brain stem properly, they will be violent, trying to bite to spread the infection and consuming the flesh. Those dead…or mostly dead…will be zeds. There is no vaccine or cure.”

  Len told the three, “We don’t allow infected to join us, and we take precautions with all who are exposed to the limited radiation outside. We have two doctors who have done research on the virus.”

  “Doctors and food, that sounds amazing,” Diane said.

  “Hot shower sounds better?” Beth asked.

  “Wow! Yes,” she said.

  “He sent them down to a room, and the downstairs is full of those things,” Steve said. “Is that protocol all over now?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “That sucks.”

  “I guess it does.”

  “Is your gr
oup all military?”

  “The remains of the US military, holding up the US Constitution, have gathered as best we can, recruiting some civilians as they wish, to guard and rescue American citizens,” Len explained. They had not said this, but it was what they had been doing. “We have civilians who do other jobs such as medical, food service, clean-up, and supplies, and we have a teacher who is planning to begin helping the children.”

  “I’d like to join. US Militia, Sir,” Conner said, “glad to hear we still have a place to serve.”

  “Good to have you, Soldier.” Len shook his hand again. “We are waiting out the radiation which is not as bad as we feared, and we have been carrying out search and rescue operations. We have tight security and beds; we have a good thing going.” Len felt proud as he went over all they had. “As far as medical, we can do first aid, of course, and light surgeries. We don’t have a lot, but we have good people. We have a preacher, too.”

  “Can you use the linens we found in a closet? Tons of white sheets.”

  Beth thanked Diane and said, “Yes.” They needed to pack up all they could.

  “Okay, we’re in. We’ll work,” Steve said. He introduced his girlfriend, Pat, and the other man who was a rough-looking fellow with muscles, jeans, and a tight tee shirt. He was Richie. “We just don’t like having to push injured people away.”

  “No, none of us like that, but one infected could kill everyone else. The virus only lives to spread itself.”

  Len suggested they bag all the sheets to be carried back with the survivors from this floor and the ones below. They would bash in the locks and loot them.

  “Can we come back with a team and loot the rooms? We may get clothing that way for the civilians?” Johnny asked. “We need clothing.”

  Len, holding back a laugh at her use of the word, ‘civilian’, agreed it was a good plan. “Base, come in Base. This is Alpha Actual. Over”

  “Base Actual here. Go ahead, Alpha Actual. Over.”

  “Base, we are bringing in eight adult survivors and five children. They are not infected. Do you copy? Over.”

  “Alpha, we copy. Eight adults and five children coming back with you. Not infected. Roger that. Over.”

  “Our ETA is thirty minutes. Over.”