Infected World Trilogy (Books 1-3): They Only Come Out At Night

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Infected World Trilogy (Books 1-3): They Only Come Out At Night Page 62

by Guenther, David


  ZOMBIE DESERTER

  INFECTED WORLD BOOK 3

  DAVID GUENTHER

  Zombie Deserter: Infected World Book 3

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by David Guenther

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, July 2019

  Book Three Prologue

  Lieutenant Caleb White, Air Force officer, hero, and infectee. With the outbreak of ‘The Infection’ Senior Airman White was praised as a hero when he helped delay the infected from overrunning two cargo planes, filled with survivors, attempting to evacuate Peterson AFB. He then selflessly volunteered to stay behind and cover the last plane out, knowing it was a death sentence. Unfortunately, as many saw it, he survived with the infection.

  Many fear him as others abhor him. His commander, Major General Peters, respected and promoted the courageous young man. He assigns Caleb special missions as a sign of his trust.

  The discovery of a survivor, believed to be the most senior in the presidential line of succession, changed things.

  The first presidential decree was that no infected personnel would be allowed to serve, let alone live. Peters managed to get Caleb to limited safety. Lieutenant Gloria ‘Grits’ Alban, was not so fortunate. Upon hearing the presidential decree, she barely manages to desert her post.

  Chapter 1

  Surprise, Arizona. April 11, 2029

  Lieutenant Caleb White looked at his tablet and was surprised to see he actually had new emails; he was even more surprised to see they were from Major General Peters, the senior surviving Air Force general, and commander of all forces.

  Caleb,

  Tomorrow or the next day at the latest, President Etchberger will announce his first presidential decree. He will be announcing that no infectee will be allowed to serve in any branch of the military and will have to be secured for the safety of the uninfected. What will not be declared is that the infected, unless being kept for medical experiments, will be euthanized. I have already sent an official email to Major Wilson that I have accepted your resignation. I have directed him to allow you to retain all personal issue weapons, and provide you with a small supply of ammunition and rations in lieu of payment for your service to your country. I also ordered that you are not to be allowed near any military personnel or facilities immediately after your separation. This is to ensure you can get away as soon as possible. I have made arrangements that your digital access is not disconnected. I’m sure you will find a way to access the system if you need to.

  I see you, and will always remember you, a hero. Perhaps one day even a friend.

  Respectfully yours,

  Major General William Peters

  Commander Combined CONUS Forces

  Caleb looked at the current time on the tablet, it was just shy of 0600. Adrenaline pumping, he tried to figure out what to do first. He grabbed his duffel bag and pulled out an extra drive he had stashed, then attached it to the tablet, downloading all his data in case the tablet was taken from him. He looked over at the pair of M4s by his bed and was sure the one that been issued to Corporal Golsteyn would be taken away if they knew about it. He quickly broke it down, cringing slightly when he felt the dried blood on the weapon before he stuffed it inside the bag then stopped and realized everything he owned back in Wyoming, the truck his dad had given him, his collection of firearms, and his stash of booze, was as good as gone. He picked up his tablet and began to compose a quick email to the man he looked at almost as a father, Captain Bryan Conrad.

  Bryan,

  It looks like I’m not going to make it back there. I want to you to have all my possessions I left behind, including my truck. It was an honor serving with you the short period of time that I did. I hope one day to see you again, and maybe my truck.

  Thanks for everything,

  Caleb

  Caleb shut down the tablet after deleting the email from the general, and ensuring it was cleared. Hopefully Major Arnot will delete the evidence of the email, he thought as he hurriedly dressed. Just as he was pulling the last speed lacer down his boot laces, locking them tight, there was three short raps at the door. Caleb gave a panicked look around the room and forced himself to try and relax; he couldn’t sense any danger from the other side of the door. He picked up the shades from the table and opened the door.

  “Sorry for the early visit, Lieutenant White. I’ve been asked to bring you to the orderly room. You also need to bring all your possessions with you. That sucks, you just getting here last night and already moving you out. My money says he wants you to take command of the agricultural detachment, but we’ll have to wait and see. Can I help you with any of that sir?” Technical Sergeant Muller offered.

  “I have it Sergeant. I’ll follow you to the orderly room.” While appearing calm, Caleb’s heart continued to race as he tried to sense any dangers. Then he felt the Other, there was an infected nearby, but different, calm and rational, the same as the infectee he’d met on the road in Wyoming, another like him. How do I ask if they have any infected among them? Especially if the Other is able to hide their condition from the locals. This is so frustrating he thought just as the NCO before him stopped at a door and opened it.

  “Lieutenant White, welcome, please come in.” Major Wilson sat at the desk in the back of the room. “General Peters has emailed me, to let you know that he has accepted your resignation of your commission. In addition, he has waived any requirements to fulfill your service obligation as an enlisted man. In particular it strikes me that he just wants you the hell away from the military as a whole. It looks to me that you were caught with your hand in the cookie jar and resigning your commission was for the best for the service as well as yourself. He has also been quite generous, in my opinion. You will be allowed to keep your personal weapon. I have also been directed to provide you with ammunition and rations until you can get on your feet. I’ve had one of the numerous civilian vehicles that have been requisitioned for government use loaded with those rations and a can of 9mm and 5.56 ammo. In the spirit of the general’s email, you will not be welcomed back here, any military facility, or by any military personnel. Once you get into the truck, you are a civilian and not welcome here again. Do you have any questions for me?”

  “Major, it has been an honor and privilege to serve my country. I must now enter into the next stage of my life. I will make this easy and just leave now. Hopefully, this opportunity will allow me to find my parents.” Caleb replied. He held out his hand to shake the Major’s hand.

  Ignoring the offered hand, the Major looked at Technical Sergeant Muller. “Escort Mr. White to the truck, he is to be afforded no military courtesies. Then I want the guards to know he is to be considered persona non grata. You may escort him out now, Sergeant.” Wilson looked down at his desktop, ignoring the pair as they exited his office. If they had looked back at him, they would have seen a smile on his face. That bitch is going to be pissed when she sees her stolen truck has been requisitioned for the good of the service, he almost laughed as he took a sip of his coffee. My brother may not have been a good man, but he, and his men, didn’t deserve to be murdered by her. I’ll enjoy making her life miserable as long as I live.

  Muller walked out to the gate and wasn’t sure how to address the young, now ex-lieutenant. “Good luck sir, I hope you find your family.” Caleb was fighting his emotions, and just nodded back to the sergeant. The lifted truck before him was a total surprise. He took in the American paint job, then climbed up on the side to check out the bed of the truck. Two green metal ammo can
s and six cases of MREs sat there. He dropped his duffel bag on top of the pile, and then slid off his M4 before opening the driver’s door and setting it between the seats. The opulence of the cab’s interior was an additional pleasant surprise, although he was not happy with the automatic transmission, preferring at least a four speed. Turning the key, the engine fired up nicely with a throaty growl, the gas gauge was at a half tank. This was definitely someone’s baby he thought, before looking back and giving a half wave. The ride was quiet, the seats perhaps too comfortable. The satellite radio was playing a song too soft to hear so he turned up the volume,

  There must be fifty ways to leave your lover

  Fifty ways to leave your lover

  You just slip out the back, Jack

  Make a new plan, Stan

  You don't need to be coy, Roy

  Just get yourself free

  Hop on the bus, Gus

  You don't need to discuss much

  Just drop off the key, Lee

  And get yourself free

  Caleb turned off the radio in shock, wondering if he was possibly going insane. He waited a bit and turned the radio back on.

  “You are listening to Radio ZA broadcasting out of Cheyenne, Wyoming, twenty four/ seven on 500 kW. The last working radio station in America. Welcome to our new listeners, now that we’ve upgraded from 50 kW to 500 kW, we now cover more of America than ever before. In addition, the government has graciously helped us set up the ability to do satellite broadcasts as well. If you would like to place a request and have a satellite phone our number is…” Caleb fought the urge to tear out the radio, instead concentrating on, ‘What now?’ He followed the signs to Interstate Ten, figuring he’d use it as a starting point for his trip home.

  Chapter 2

  Surprise, Arizona. April 11, 2029

  The dining facility seemed particularly alive as people were talking amongst themselves about the small convoy that had joined their community. The strangers were not just survivors who had found their way to them but had come under orders from the government. The government still existed and was headquartered out of Wyoming! Many talked about convoys of trucks and helicopters that would soon arrive and fix everything, while others were more pessimistic, believing the rediscovered government would instead be a drain on their community.

  Gloria sat at her usual spot in the corner, under the basketball hoop, and just enjoyed her coffee. She would be leading a mixed team of military and civilians on their first foraging trip together. A retired truck driver had suggested a list of a dozen warehouse facilities close by Interstate Ten. Her plan was to take her ten person team to the warehouse in a single truck and try to find trucks that had already been loaded that could just be driven back to Sanctuary. Today was supposed to be just basic food stuffs so they could work out any kinks they may have working together. She knew the excuse of her being able to use her ‘infectee’ powers to detect infected or danger, was as much a joke as an excuse to keep her away from her new commander, whose brother she had killed in self-defense when she discovered he was a violent criminal and slaver.

  “El-tee, you look like you want to jump into that cup a java and drown yourself. Today’s job can’t be that crappy.” Gloria looked up at Sergeant Spradling, he was holding his meal tray.

  “Make yourself comfortable William, we have a half hour yet till we form up by the truck.” The double amputee almost caught his prosthetic on the bench seat, but recovered without anyone noticing.

  “So what’s the game plan for today? Ma’am, anything special planned for the circus?” Spradling tried to phrase it as a joke but his anger was not easily hidden. When the new commander took over, he’d reassigned the NCO who had been a Cavalry Scout and currently a Stryker commander, to drive for the lieutenant’s salvage team, along with a retired NCO of dubious abilities and however many civilians happened to show up per mission. Their only asset, an old open top five ton truck that burned oil so badly they often joked that it was their tracking system and could double for a smoke screen if necessary.

  “Depending on how many show up, we’re hitting the warehouses south of the I-10 and see if we can grab any trucks that are already loaded. If we don’t find anything, we’ll either load up some trucks or just load up our own truck. A few of our team were truck drivers, so that should make things easier. I’d hate to try and drive those big monsters, even with an automatic transmission. Both looked across the auditorium as the commander walked in, he looked across the room and noticed the pair and gave them a big smile and a wave before getting in the serving line.

  “Ma’am, did that just creep you out as much as it did me?” Gloria was already standing up to get out of the room before the major could visit with them after dishing up his breakfast. Spradling looked down at what was left of his tray of food and quickly followed her towards the door.

  Wilson watched the pair leave, amused. It’s going to be a great day today, I can just feel it, he thought.

  A dozen of the civilian volunteers were standing around the five ton. Each one had either an M4 or an ancient M16 variant, most didn’t know the difference. Each person wore whatever they had, although there was effort made to issue them all uniform olive drab load bearing gear to carry six 30 round magazines and a pair of canteens, along with a pouch for an MRE and any assorted small tools or equipment. Well, at least they’re not pointing their weapons at each other, that’s good to see, Gloria thought as the pair headed for the truck.

  “Okay, everyone mount up. The bus is leaving in five minutes.” Spradling called out, and then suppressed a laugh as the third ‘uniformed’ member of the team, Corporal Pietro ‘Bad Dog’ Badoglio quickly limped to catch up with the others as he buttoned the front of his uniform pants. The sixty-five year old veteran had a smile on his face as the civilians joked about him getting caught with his pants down. Even with a bad leg he easily climbed into the back of the truck unassisted.

  “Looks like the circus is loaded, I’m familiar with our first target of the day. If we get lucky we’ll be home for a hot lunch.” Spradling fired up the truck as bystanders took more than a few steps back as the cloud of black exhaust encircled the truck.

  “Maybe if we find ourselves near one of the armories, with running trucks, we can have a major malfunction. Maybe even have the engine catch fire?” Gloria suggested to Spradling.

  “Ma’am. That would just challenge that cocksucker Wilson to find another way to screw us over. If you think about it we have some pretty easy duty, better that standing on the wall waiting to get caught falling asleep.”

  “Drive the truck, Spradling. It’s the start of another beautiful day in Arizona and I’m not going to let you bring me down. Look on the bright side of things, maybe we’ll find a truckload of chocolate.” Spradling looked like he wanted to reply but decided to do his job, already worried he was sounding too whiny.

  The loading area was the size of three football fields surrounded by five warehouses. There were at least twenty semis backed up to the different loading docks. The place appeared deserted, except for a dozen or so partially eaten bodies scattered among the trucks. The closer they got to the loading area, the worse the smell of unrefrigerated meats and dairy products became. “I guess we should add gas masks to the list of gear we should carry with us.” Spradling suggested, trying not to take a deep breath while Gloria was fighting to not throw up, especially with her even more sensitive sense of smell.

  “We’ll grab any trucks that have even partial loads and a forklift or two. Drive the trucks up to the interstate, and from there keep or dump what’s in the trucks. I don’t want any of our people getting sick breathing in any of that toxic crap.” Gloria’s eyes were already watering badly, and her face was going paler. Spradling noticed and volunteered to advise the work team.

  Gloria, was about to accept the offer, even as she felt the bile in the back of her throat. “Let’s get this done. I’ll advise the men, just keep a good eye out, this is too good of a
place to just waltz in and take what we want.”

  The men were already standing around the back of the truck, each had already covered their face from the smell. “Let’s make this a quick one. Gentlemen, I want you in teams of two to take the trucks and move them to the perimeter fence entrance. No one goes inside any of the warehouses for any reason at all. Once we have the trucks, we’ll find a forklift to bring with us. I plan to check the cargo of each truck up on the interstate in the fresh air. We’ll dump anything spoiled over the edge of the road, and take the remainder home. Our next trip here, we’ll have gas masks and gloves for protection from the smell of all that rot. Treat it as toxic. Now, the faster we move the faster we get outta here.” The men quickly moved out as Spradling and Badoglio took position around the five ton so they could cover the work team. Gloria ducked behind the truck and retched. This isn’t like me, I hope I’m not pregnant, she worried.

  Chapter 3

  Litchfield Park, Arizona. April 11, 2029

 

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