by Black, D. S.
Humanity’s Death
A Zombie Epic
Complete Trilogy
D.S. Black
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Editor: Violet Black
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Table of Contents
Headlines
One Year Later
Darkness Coming
The Teach Family
Plat Eyes
Thompson Makes a Move
A Ghastly Return
Candy and Andrew
Thompson Moves Closer to the City
Final Night in the Swamp
Intermission: Dead Letters
Tommy “Duras” Morrow
Professor Mary Jane
Just Another Day in the New World
Thompson Watches and Waits
The Incredible Okona and His Comic Warriors
Thompson Gets a Call
Rusty Ray and the Seekers
Thompson Takes the City of God
Militia Interference
A Sweet Treat
Allies
Book Two
Road to Columbia
Corporal Mullinax
Professor Mary Jane
Kid Chaos
Jack and Candy
Pinky Satterfield
A Troubled Tasha
Jack Wakes Up
Candy’s Captivity
Kid Chaos 2
Intermission: The Fever Brings the Killing
Okona’s Jeep
Mullinax 2
Kid Chaos 3
Duras’s Jeep
I-20
In the Arms of the Militia
Colonel Mullinax 3
Kid Chaos 4
Mullinax 4
Pinky Meets the Comic Warriors and The Battle for Columbia
Mullinax 5
Kid Chaos 5
The Aftermath
Book Three
The Final Solution
Meet Zarina
The Mountain King
Mary Jane and Tasha Meet the Mountain King
Zarina and the Mudcats
The Voice
Jack Wakes Up Again
Candy Makes a Stand
The Voice 2
A Troubled Return
A Feast of Souls
Flashbacks and The Battle for Pinky’s Farm
Pinky and Johnny Rainmaker
Zarina
Insurance
Mary Jane Meets the Chemist
Old Feuds Die Hard
Zarina’s Vision
An Artist’s Mind
Dinner Preparations
Dinner with the King
Locked Away
In the Lab
A Final Goodbye
A Feast of Souls
Busted
And all the Kings Men
Final Stand
Inside the Casino
The Melody of War
Zarina Leaves
The Final Solution
Zarina (And the World) Moves On
Zarina: Zombie Huntress
About the Author
Headlines
THE NEW YORK TIMES—A virus is ravaging the country. People are falling over, reanimating and eating the flesh from anyone they see. There is speculation of a worldwide pandemic. Some experts are suggesting a superbug may have been spawned by the Ebola vaccination.
NEW YORK POST—Hailed as a miracle cure, the vaccine promised to rid humanity of Ebola…early reports suggest that the outbreak originated in Africa, where the vaccine was first used.
REUTERS—The situation is growing worse. Early estimates suggest that millions are already infected. The CDC suggests staying home, locking your doors and watching your television for emergency channel updates. Intelligence sources claim the Russians may have conducted experiments…
THE YOUNG TURKS—If you have been infected or know someone who has been infected, please blow their fucking heads off.
INFOWARS—The elite created a virus that kills off eighty percent of the population.
THE GUARDIAN: The President is dead. Mass sightings of paranormal activity reported.
There were no more headlines.
One Year Later
Darkness Coming
1
Black thoughts plagued Lieutenant Thompson’s mind. His captain sat at a makeshift desk. They were at Recon Three’s encampment, about twenty miles inland. He hated the captain; he hated almost everyone. The captain was called Cap by all the men, and Thompson (for the moment at least) indulged the need to suck up to his superior. After all, he wanted to move up in the ranks. He wanted to one day meet The Mountain King. It was a shit world he was stuck in, and just like his past life, he wanted to make sure he was as close to the top as possible.
“I want that fucking church community brought under Militia control,” Cap said. “Take your men and scout it. Find out what we’re up against.”
“No engagement?”
“What the fuck does scout mean?”
“No problem, sir. I’ll scout the target and report back.”
“That fortress will make a great coastal base. The Militia’s evolution grows rapidly.”
“We’re defeating the dead.”
“Goddamn right. Now get the hell out of here, and remember—”
“Don’t engage.” He knew the routine; he did the leg work, then Cap took all the glory. It made him want to pull his snub nose .38 from its leather holster and blow up Cap’s brains. The blood would contrast well with the green and whites of the tent office.
“Anything else, Cap?”
“Nope. You can—" Cap snapped his fingers. “Check out the swamps. We never heard back from Danny and his team. I want to know what happened to them.”
“No problem. I’ll come back with a host of answers.”
“That’s my boy. Now get out of here. I’ve got things to do.”
Thompson turned, and walked past a blonde girl; barely eighteen, tied and gagged, dried tears on her face.
Thompson walked through two green flaps, still wishing he’d killed Cap.
Boy? He was no body’s fucking boy. Not since—
he pushed that memory out of his mind, and went to find his troops.
2
After Lieutenant Thompson was gone, Cap stood up strutting over to the young girl. “Shhhh…don’t whimper. You just do what I want, and all will be well.” He pulled the rag from her mouth, and jerked her up by her dirty blonde hair. She looked half starved, and dark purple bruises painted her face. She’d been brought here that morning. She’d not been raped, but had been beaten. The men that took her told her she was for Cap. Cap always got first taste, but they had assured she’d be all theirs after that. Had it just been her, maybe she could bare this life a bit better, but she hadn’t been alone.
“I heard what happened to your family. Look, don’t take it personal, the new world has rules. Rules set down by the Mountain King. Your mommy and daddy were more trouble than they were worth.”
“Wha…wha…what about my little brother?”
He ripped her skirt off, threw her over a metal table, and forced her back to arch, offering a prime
view of her ass. He leaned over her back, pressing his body against her, and whispered: “Now that’s the good news. Your little brother is in our hands; he’s on the road to Columbia. He’s gonna become a fine soldier for the Militia; a real testament to manhood.” He pulled her panties to the side. “Colonel Mullinax and his men will turn your brother into a real man. I heard your daddy cried like a pussy while they raped and bashed your mother’s skull.” She struggled. “Oh yeah! Fight bitch! I like that!” She screamed at him, wanted to kill him. Her sobs were loud, and outside the tent, soldiers laughed while she screamed, and screamed.
3
There were things that Lieutenant Thompson didn’t tell Cap. He already had a contact in the fortified city. They called it the City of God. Fucking fools! He was to meet with his contact, who had promised him that he would help him destroy the community’s leadership and take control.
Thompson helped his men load up multiple Hummers (most camo green, one jet black with a few bullet holes that shined liked silver) with water, ammo, guns, and rations. When he was twelve, he’d been given a job loading trucks at Christ’s House for Boys. It wasn’t much of a job; he wasn’t paid a lot, he didn’t even know if it was legal for them to pay the boys anything at all. Orphans or not, there were laws that said kids had to wait till the age of fourteen or sixteen before they could hold a job, but CHB had been his home, and this kind of work fell under the guise of chores. So, he had loaded trucks at a local warehouse just down the road from the orphanage. It was a “bag factory” that sold used feed bags to southeastern companies. The owner, a balding man with a big belly and a flat ass. Tom Handy, ran Handy Bags with a yellow toothed smile that stank from chewing tobacco, but the man wasn’t half bad; He made perverted jokes that the boys laughed at. It wasn’t Tom Handy that the young Thompson had to worry about. The overseer, Grace Dickerson; a tall lean man with a degree in Divinity and Brutality, oversaw keeping the boys in line. His face was long, mean, and tan like crispy toast. His hair was dark like a shadow. His eyes burned with a blue menace that the boys learned to fear. It wasn’t the eighties anymore, and beatings were prohibited by law, but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen, and much worse could befall a good looking young lad under the guardianship of Grace Dickerson.
Standing in the thick summer humidity, Thompson climbed into the front passenger side of the black Humvee. “On us soldiers! Take us out Randy!” Randy gunned the engine, and started out. Randy was a solid young man, barely twenty-one. He was good looking in a classical sense with deep cheek bones, and a chiseled jaw line. He was one of the few low-level Militia soldiers that didn’t have to snort the White Mist. Lieutenant Thompson reached over and squeezed Randy’s thigh. “Last night was great. Under the stars is how I’ve always liked it.”
“Yes, sir. You are my god, my sun. My whole being.”
“HA! First, we’re alone.” They were. The back seat was filled with ammo, this was done on purpose. Lieutenant Thompson wanted as much time alone with Randy as possible. “Don’t call me sir. You call me by my name.”
“If you say so. I’m still sore from last night, think we can take it easier next time?”
The lieutenant reached over and patted Randy on the shoulder. “I like you Randy, but don’t push it. I need it hard, I need to give it out rough; it’s just the way I am, there is no need to try and change that now.”
Randy said nothing more. They left the Militia’s Recon base, and began their journey to the City of God.
4
The Lieutenant’s full name was William Benjamin Thompson. Before The Fever, he was a successful banker. He fought hard back then to move up the corporate ladder. His ambition carried over to the New World and helped him move fast in the ranks of the Militia. He’d learned much earlier that brutality was the name of the game.
Back at the orphanage was where he learned the cruel lessons of brutality; where he developed his love of sadism and torture.
The first time had been the worst.
“You’re so smart William, but smarts aren’t enough for a boy like you. You need the support of men like me to make it out of this place, and actually go somewhere with your life.”
Thompson had been only thirteen at the time, and the words both scared him and excited him; he was smart, made straight A’s in school, but he was also deeply insecure and unsure of himself. He was after all, a State Kid, a forgotten boy whose parents never wanted him. His parents abandoned him at an early age to whatever the world may have for him; he’d never seen his mother and father, and never would.
But he had known he wanted to make something out of himself. He had also known he wasn’t like the other boys. He didn’t get a “major hard on” when the other fellas watched internet porn. He didn’t get a “rager” looking at girls, but boy oh boy…did the boys make him hot and bothered.
But this was the South, and a Christian orphanage. It would mean a near lynching if he just came out and told the world he was a young gay lad.
“They might even send you to one of those ‘pray em straight camps,’ and I promise” Dickerson had leaned in close. “You don’t want that kind of treatment.”
Grace Dickerson had said this while rain pelted against the window of his office. It was after hours, and that section of the building was empty except for them. Thompson’s heart had nearly stopped when Grace stood up, walked to the office door, and clicked the lock. “It’s smart to make the right friends Will, and I’m a good friend to have. I know you’re gay, it’s one of those things I can just tell. It’s okay; I’ll keep your secret, but in return…”
It had been painful. The whip didn’t look like much, but stung like a bitch. Dickerson’s manhood was nearly seven inches and thick, and for a boy of only thirteen, that was asking quite a lot. The young Thompson had bled a lot.
“You bath here from now on after each session. You don’t want the others noticing the whip marks.”
And Thompson had done just that. With a large steel bucket full of hot soapy water, he’d washed the blood away, and gently applied healing ointments to the lashes.
And in return for all the torture, all the pain and humiliation?
“LT, you OK?”
Lieutenant William Thompson had been dazing, his eyes opening and closing. He now stared out of the Hummer’s window as they drove down a country road in Florence, South Carolina. They would be getting close to the stake out point soon enough. Thompson was a detailed man, and wanted to make sure they were ready for whatever the City of God had to throw at them. He spoke to Randy without taking his eyes off the passing scenery. “Just drive Randy I’m fine as candy, just drive.” The tone of his voice made sure randy did exactly what he was told.
5
They drove through the low country of South Carolina. Down back roads with large green fields on either side. The heat was thick with humidity, but the AC worked just fine in the Hummer. Zombies roamed the countryside, a few here and a few there. Their eyes shined bright white; their minds gone except for the need to feed off the hot flesh of those who had survived The Fever.
As they neared the stakeout point, Randy asked: “So, what’s our orders exactly? Just a scouting mission?”
Thompson explained the orders were to scout the area, find weaknesses in the city's defense, and then report back to Cap. The Militia wanted the city as intact as possible; the leadership wanted it as their coastal base.
Thompson was part of Force Recon 3. Cap along with the rest of the Militia were further inland. He coveted his captain's position, and thought if he took the city with his small platoon, the powers to be would promote him.
But he didn’t tell Randy that. Not yet at least.
For the moment, he leaned back in the large leather Hummer seat with his feet planted on the dashboard. He was quite proud of himself. Even before The Fever, he was almost always proud of himself. He never let the disturbing events from his youth hold him back from achieving the success he wanted. He may have been turned into a mon
ster (at least in the eyes of the so called normal), but his relationship with Grace Dickerson had bred more fruit than just the scars on his back and in his mind. Dickerson had kept his word, and helped him by pulling in favors with friends he had at Palmetto University, one of the most prestigious schools in South Carolina. A boy with his background, no matter how good his grades were, had little to no chance of getting accepted into a school like PU, but- with the help of Dickerson, Thompson was accepted into their accounting and business program. Once there, he never looked back, and Grace never saw him again. He received a letter from Grace once, informing him that he had been diagnosed with a brain tumor.
After Thomson read the letter, he had used the money he made from working as PU’s baseball team’s manager to throw a kegger. No one knew why he wanted to celebrate; the team had lost their most recent game, but the fun was had, and not one person ever knew about his past. He spoke to no one about his homosexuality. When he wanted sex, he left the campus and drove to Columbia gay bars, where a good-looking college boy could drink for free and have as much fun as he wanted. He never joined any fraternities, but he made many friends and graduated near the top of his class. Shortly after undergraduate school, he went to South Carolina University’s Masters in Accounting program. After that, he landed an entry position in a local bank chain. Two years later, he left Carolina Community Bank, joined Wells Fargo, and was put in charge of the entire southeast banking branches.
On top of being an ambitious banker, Thompson was a card-carrying Republican, and a staunch defender of male superiority. The atheist liberals were the ones confused, trying their best to bring America to the level of Sodom and Gomorrah. Thompson didn't believe that the Bible was much of a book (as far as reality was concerned), but he did agree with its position on women and men. He considered it the natural hierarchy, anything else was not necessarily an abomination to God; more like it was an abomination against Father Nature. Fuck Mother Nature in the ass.
Thompson had remained a closet homosexual. At least he had been back then. Now, who gave a rat’s ass? The only reason he kept it in the closet before The Fever was because he worried about losing respect within the macho banking environment. Unlike the rainbow flag carrying sissies, Thompson considered himself a Tiger. “I'm a wild and dangerous sexual Tiger, taking what I want, when I want, from who I want.” He’d say this to his conquests. Some of which would regret going to bed with the dangerously sadistic Thompson, but his love for man flesh wasn’t quite enough to satisfy his darkest desires.
