Zombie Apocalypse: The Chad Halverson Series

by Bryan Cassiday

  “Felix Ocala.”

  “OK, Felix. That’s Reba, Victoria, and Oliver Becker. I’m Chad.”

  Becker harrumphed. “Now that we’ve bonded, how do you know so much about these plague victims?”

  Halverson could not tell him he worked for the CIA. For sure Halverson would not tell Becker, the onetime Senate Intelligence Committee member. It was nobody’s business anyway, decided Halverson. To be honest, Halverson didn’t even know if his real employer, the CIA, even existed anymore.

  “I’m a journalist,” he said. “I was researching the outbreak of the plague for an article I’m writing. People think the disease started in China.”

  “People? What people?”

  Halverson had no intention of revealing his sources to Becker. “The people I’ve contacted about the disease.”

  Becker snickered at Halverson’s disingenuousness. “Whatever.”

  “I don’t care whether this stuff started in China or Podunk,” said Reba. “What are we supposed to do? How do we deal with it?”

  “Let’s just get out of California,” said Felix. “The rest of the country is probably OK.”

  “It’s not OK,” said Halverson. “I heard on the news the entire country is infected.”

  “Jesus Christ! Then it’s hopeless.”

  “I think we should head for the ocean. We could hijack a boat and head out to sea away from the infected land.”

  Becker shook his head. “First off, I don’t believe anything you say. Why should we believe your cock-and-bull nonsense? This doomsday scenario you’re painting is ludicrous. What we need to do is find out what’s really happening.”

  “I agree with you on that. But we also need to make sure we’re safe and have access to food and water.”

  “I refuse to believe it’s as bad as you say it is.”

  Halverson was getting fed up with Becker’s arguing. “What’s your explanation for what happened?”

  “I don’t know yet. I can only speculate. Maybe some kind of terrorist attack.”

  “Even if it was a terrorist attack, the fact remains this entire area is ravaged by plague.”

  “I don’t accept that.”

  “Then what about those creatures you saw attacking us. You think they’re just your average Joe Six-Packs? They’re flesh-eating ghouls.”

  “I didn’t see them eat anybody’s flesh. All I saw was you bashing their brains in. You could be some homicidal maniac for all we know.”

  Halverson caught Reba searching his face.

  “Those creatures look like us,” said Halverson, “but they’re not us. They’re not human. They’re not even alive.”

  “If they’re not alive, how could you kill them?” demanded Becker.

  “We’re going around in circles with this,” said Halverson in exasperation. “If you want to let those creatures eat your flesh, be my guest. If they come near me, they’re gonna regret it.”

  “I wish we knew where you’re getting your information from,” said Reba.

  “Look at those things. Do you seriously think they’re just like us?”

  Reba padded over to one of the dead ghouls. She bent over it to get a better look at its decaying flesh.

  “Don’t get too close to it,” said Halverson. “Whatever you do, don’t touch it. For all we know, its disease can be spread by physical contact.”

  Reba pulled away from the thing. “Granted, it’s ugly. But you can’t go around killing people just because they’re ugly.”

  “Look at its face.”

  “How can I look at its face? You bashed its brains in. Its head is a mess.”

  “OK. What’s your explanation for what’s happening?”

  “This person here on the ground probably did have some kind of disease. His skin’s all discolored and it looks like it’s rotting. Maybe he had leprosy. Leprosy makes people look grotesque.”

  “That makes more sense than zombies walking around,” said Becker.

  “What about all these crashed cars and dead bodies all over the streets and sidewalks?” said Halverson. “Are you saying these people were all lepers?”

  “That’s something else entirely. That has nothing to do with these unfortunate sick people that you murdered.”

  Halverson ran his hand down over his face in frustration. “They were attacking us.”

  “None of them laid a hand on me.”

  Fed up with arguing about it, Halverson said, “The next time they attack you, I’ll let them.”

  “I say we should hold you for the authorities to deal with.”

  “What authorities? Don’t you realize yet what’s happened here? This whole city has been wiped out by plague. That includes the authorities.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  “All you gotta do is open your eyes.”

  “Can we please talk about something else?” said Victoria.

  “We need to figure out our next move,” said Becker.

  Halverson twigged movement on the sidewalk beyond the chain-link fence. A corpse was rising jerkily from the cement.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Now what do you say?” said Halverson, watching the cadaver rise to its feet.

  Becker turned to behold the figure stumbling along the fence. “That poor man needs our help. Why are you just standing there?”

  “That guy was dead on the sidewalk a few seconds ago.”

  “How do you know? Maybe he was just unconscious.”

  “Look at the way he’s staggering around.”

  “You’d be staggering too if you were regaining consciousness.”

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions,” said Victoria. “There’s a reasonable explanation for all of this.”

  Halverson watched another corpse reanimate inside a T-boned Camaro in the street. Its face ashen, its eyes veiled by white film, the figure tripped onto the asphalt while climbing out of the car. With difficulty the figure got to its feet again and lurched out of the road toward the graveyard.

  “A lot of these people in their cars must still be alive,” said Reba.

  “I doubt it,” said Halverson.

  Hundreds of corpses strewn on the streets and sidewalks commenced to reanimate. The figures stumbled around as if they had never learned to walk.

  “I could have sworn those people were dead,” said Victoria in astonishment.

  “They were,” said Halverson.

  “But look at them.”

  “Haven’t any of you been listening to me? They’re reanimating.”

  “That’s insane,” said Reba. “They’re regaining consciousness. That’s all.”

  “It gets worse. They’re heading toward us because they want our flesh.”

  Indeed, the creatures were lining up around the chain-link fence and pawing it, trying to get past it. Moaning, they jangled the fence as they clawed it.

  “Hear them moaning?” said Becker. “They’re in pain. They need help.”

  Halverson shook his head no. “They’re moaning because they’re hungry.” He paused in thought. “I don’t know how long that fence is gonna hold them back.”

  Halverson surveyed the cemetery. The chain-link fence spanned the entire perimeter of the graveyard which looked to be about a quarter of a mile in length and a little less than that at its width.

  He didn’t spot any gaps in the fence or large holes in the chain links that would permit the creatures to enter the cemetery. Though rusted and bent in spots, the fence appeared to be all in one piece for its entire length. It would keep the creatures out of the cemetery for the time being, he decided.

  The fence wouldn’t hold forever, though, he knew. Eventually the weight of those things alone, if there were enough of them, would collapse it.

  “Those people won’t get past the fence,” said Becker. “They’re too weak. Look, they can barely move.”

  “If you really think those ‘people’ are just like us, why don’t you open the gate and invite them into this cemetery?”


  As Halverson knew he would, Becker balked at Halverson’s proposal.

  “That’s what I thought,” said Halverson.

  “I don’t deny that there’s something wrong with those people. They obviously have some disease---and it could be contagious.”

  Halverson picked up on the sudden movement of some of the creatures away from the fence. He could not understand why they would be retreating from the fence when they knew living human flesh was inside the cemetery.

  “Help!” he heard a woman cry.

  It sounded like her voice was emanating from the road somewhere, possibly from the interior of a car. As yet, he could not make out the woman. Then he saw her.

  One of the creatures had a hold of her arm and was hauling her through the broken window of her tan SUV that was sandwiched between two other vehicles in the road thirty-odd feet from the fence’s gate.

  Incensed by the proximity of a human, other ghouls stumbled in a frenzy of bloodlust toward her. Several of them clambered over car hoods to reach the hapless woman.

  Clad in a loose white dress, the woman was middle-aged with auburn hair. She struggled to free her arm from the creature’s grasp.

  Another creature snagged her arm and yanked on it. Together, the two creatures hoicked the woman’s arm out of its socket.

  She screamed in agony as blood gushed out of her shredded shoulder.

  The ghouls lapped up the fresh hot blood that showered their flyblown faces and writhed in ecstasy.

  Victoria screamed as she watched.

  Reba collapsed to her knees and threw up.

  “What the hell’s going on?” said Felix, grimacing.

  A score of creatures surrounded the woman. They lunged and clawed at her. They ripped her dress off then ripped her bloody flesh off and stuffed it into their rotting mouths.

  The woman was beyond help, Halverson realized.

  “I must be going crazy,” said Victoria. She held her forehead, her eyes glassy. “This can’t be happening.”

  “It’s worse than that,” said Halverson. “It really is happening and those creatures are gonna come after us when they’re through devouring that woman.”

  Halverson watched in dread as more corpses became reanimated in the streets. The creatures crawled out of smashed cars and rose from the pavement and sidewalks.

  “I don’t like our chances,” said Felix. “More of those things are headed our way.”

  “Look at all of them,” said Reba in awe. “It’s hopeless.”

  “The fence will hold them out for now,” said Halverson.

  “Then what?”

  “We can do it,” said Becker. “We’ll think of something.”

  “I wonder how long we’ve got to live,” said Felix, a dismal expression on his face.

  For the first time Halverson noticed Felix had a scar about an inch long over his right eyebrow.

  “A bank robber wannabe pistol-whipped me,” said Felix, as if reading Halverson’s thoughts. “He had a short life.” A faint smile lifted the right corner of Felix’s mouth.

  “We’re all gonna have short lives,” said Reba.

  “How do we know we won’t turn into one of those things?” asked Victoria.

  Reba looked shocked at the idea.

  Everyone in their group looked shaken at the prospect, Halverson saw.

  “We can’t be sure of anything,” said Halverson at last.

  “There are too many of those things,” said Felix.

  Hundreds of the creatures were indeed swarming around the cemetery fence, lining up along the fence’s entire perimeter, rattling the chain links with their decomposing hands.

  “Now I know how Custer felt,” said Becker.

  “I know there are a lot of them,” said Halverson, “but we still have advantages over them. We can move faster and we can think.”

  “A lot of good that will do us if those things get through the fence,” said Felix.

  A bank of grey smoke wafted over the cemetery.

  Victoria coughed as the smoke burned her throat. “The city’s still on fire somewhere.”

  “That’s one good thing about this graveyard,” said Halverson. “There aren’t any buildings here to burn down. Only grass and tombstones and a tree or two,” he added, taking stock of the cemetery.

  “Hey, isn’t that a motor cart over there?” said Felix. “That might come in handy.”

  He loped toward the white cart that was parked along the side of one of the few narrow roads that intersected the cemetery. He scrambled into the driver’s seat.

  Halverson figured the key must have been in the ignition because Felix started the cart right up. Felix executed a three-point turn in the street and drove toward Halverson and the others.

  A smile on his face, Felix parked next to them. “We’ve got a little luck, anyway.”

  “What good is that golf cart gonna do us?” said Reba.

  “I’m sure we can use it for something.”

  “Yeah. I’m tired of carrying this shotgun around.” Reba laid the shotgun between the motor cart’s two seats.

  “You’re gonna need that,” said Halverson, watching her.

  “I know where to find it.”

  “Lucky, the key was in the ignition,” Halverson told Felix.

  “Whoever left it must have been in a hurry,” said Felix.

  “I still don’t see how it helps us much,” said Reba. “It only holds two people.”

  “Maybe we can find a couple more of them around here,” said Felix.

  “Then what?”

  “We can crash through those creatures or something and get out of here,” suggested Victoria.

  “I doubt it,” said Becker, who had been listening while leaning against a stone mausoleum. He angled toward them. “That cart’s too flimsy. And it doesn’t have any windows to keep the creatures out. They’d knock it over in no time and grab us.”

  “It’s better than nothing,” insisted Felix. “Maybe now we have half a chance.”

  “We could use it to repel borders,” said Halverson. “If we see the fence giving way somewhere, we can get to it quickly in that cart and try to shore the fence up.”

  “With what?” said Becker.

  “We’ll find something,” said Victoria.

  “Famous last words.”

  “I’m not gonna just roll over and die,” said Halverson.

  “We’ll think of something,” said Victoria. “I hope.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Lucky those things are stupid,” Halverson heard Felix say.

  Felix was still sitting in the driver’s seat of the motor cart. Halverson was trying to figure out their next move.

  “What do you mean?” asked Reba.

  “I mean,” said Felix, “if they had any brains at all, they would mass themselves in one spot and knock down the fence with their combined weight.”

  “Spreading themselves out the way they’re doing works in our favor,” agreed Becker.

  “They have reanimated dead brains,” said Halverson. “Their brains can tell them to do only one thing—eat.”

  With his arm Halverson wiped away the sweat that was beading on his forehead. In the excitement he had forgotten how hot it was. Santa Ana winds were keeping the weather hot and arid.

  “So what are we gonna do?” said Reba. “Just stay here in this graveyard for the rest of our lives? What about food and drink?”

  “I could use some water right about now,” said Becker.

  Halverson scouted the gently sloping hills of the cemetery. A shack in the northwest quadrant caught his eye.

  “What about that shed?” he said. “There might be supplies in there for the gravediggers.”

  “I’ll take a look,” said Felix.

  He drove off in the motor cart toward the shack.

  “If we stay here, we’re just postponing the inevitable,” said Victoria. “It’s hopeless if we stay here.”

  “If we leave here, those creatu
res will get us,” said Becker.

  Halverson watched the sun setting, throwing shadows of gravestones and isolated palm trees across the cemetery. Even as the sun descended, the heat remained high.

  “Can those things see in the dark?” asked Victoria.

  “No better than we can,” answered Halverson.

  “Are you sure of that?” asked Becker.

  Halverson nodded. “I’ve dealt with them before.”

  “Maybe we can sneak out of here after it gets dark,” said Victoria.

  “The problem is, we won’t be able to see either,” said Becker.

  Halverson clutched the night-vision goggles that lolled from their leather strap around his neck. “We have an edge with these.”

  “Are those what I think they are?” asked Becker.

  “NVGs.”

  Becker eyed Halverson suspiciously. “Where would a reporter get night-vision goggles?”

  Halverson told Becker about the Homeland Security office at LAX where he had obtained the goggles after his Boeing 737 had landed and he and the other passengers had to fight off throngs of infected creatures that had infested the airport.

  Halverson wasn’t sure Becker believed him. Becker still looked suspicious. Not that it mattered to Halverson.

  “Those goggles don’t alter the fact that those ghouls will still be surrounding the fence at nightfall,” said Becker.

  “Maybe they’ll go to sleep,” said Victoria.

  “They don’t sleep,” said Halverson. “They have the edge on us there.”

  “OK, so they’ll still be there. But they won’t be able to see as well in the dark.”

  Felix returned from the shack in the motor cart with a smile on his face. He parked and starting handing out sodas to everyone.

  “They’re not cold, because the power’s out,” he said. “But you can’t have everything.”

  “Did you get anything to eat?” asked Victoria, accepting a can of orange soda from him.

  “I got bags of pretzels, potato chips, and snack foods.”

  He rummaged around in the footwell of the cart, scrounging up several cellophane bags of snacks. He held them out for anyone who wanted them.

  “You make it sound like we’re having a party,” said Reba. “I just want to get the fuck out of here. I don’t want to stay the night in a graveyard of all places.”