The Beginning of the End (Book2): Road to Damnation

by Kidd, Sean

  Bunker heard the eerie hum of moans coming from behind him. He looked back as a horde of dead, over a thousand strong, staggered close behind. Two runners emerged from the mass of dead. Bunker stopped only long enough to put a bullet through each of their skulls. He took off again after Daniels. He was still screaming for the kids to run.

  Bryant Park was already in sight again. Daniels was exhausted from the four-block sprint and had to slow. Bunker caught up and slowed to a jog next to him, “What’s the matter, old man? Out of shape?”

  Daniels stopped and put his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. He turned his head toward the approaching horde. They were still on the move, but more than a block away now. The sprint had put some distance between them.

  “What do you want to do?” Bunker asked.

  Daniels was beginning to recover and gave Bunker a look of desperation.

  The pack of dead moved closer without slowing.

  “At least, there are no more runners,” Bunker said looking through the EOTech Scope.

  “Maybe not now, but they’re out there. We can’t keep standing here. We have to get moving again.”

  Bunker panned the area with the scope, looking in every direction, “But where?”

  “Which way is the river?”

  Bunker pointed to the west, “I’m pretty sure it’s that direction, but you’ll have to confirm with Destiny. Have you got a plan?”

  “I have an idea that will buy us some time.”

  The dead were less than fifty yards away now. Destiny and the kids waited on the solarium steps as Daniels came into their view. He made a motion for them to start running again when shots rang out above their heads.

  Shattered glass fell from the windows of the high buildings above while a barrage of gunfire thundered in the sky. Daniels and Bunker hit the ground and covered their heads. Bullets whizzed by and tore up grass around them.

  “Who the hell is shooting up there?”

  “I don’t know,” said Daniels, “but look at the zombies. They’re dropping like flies.

  Bunker watched as the steel rain from above tore the zombies into pieces. Heads, legs, arms, and parts of torsos flew in every direction. Gunfire echoed between the buildings.

  “What the hell are they using up there, cannons?” Daniels asked glancing out from under his covered head.

  The bewildered men watched huge rounds traveling through the air. The sheer size of the lead projectiles was enough to create a light, warm, breeze that carried the stench of grizzly goo turning the men’s stomachs.

  What seemed like an hour later had been less than two minutes. The shelling paused while single shots took out the few remaining zombies.

  The men on the ground uncovered their heads and assessed the damage. The walking, moaning horde had been reduced to a pile of rotting flesh. Death moans stirred in the pack and Daniels watched as two zombie women struggled to their feet. One was missing both of her arms. The second looked as though it had come out of the attack unscathed, only to be dropped by a single sniper round. The shot had killed her before she had ever heard it coming. The second zombie, still standing, turned her head up to listen to a southern man’s taunts, which came from above, “Leave her, boys. She’s mine.”

  Bunker also scanned the window from where the carnage came. He caught movement on the fifth floor. It wasn’t that of a person, but rather a large yellow tipped grenade on the end of a bazooka type weapon.

  With all the movies he had seen, Bunker knew the name of the device. It was a Russian RPG. The RGP was short for Rocket Propelled Grenade.

  “Put your head down, Daniels. It’s an RPG.”

  There was a loud pop followed by the hiss of the accelerating ordinance. It struck the ground with a hollow sounding thump. The armless zombie disappeared as flames engulfed it.

  Daniels was sure he heard a “Woo hoo,” echo off surrounding buildings.

  Bunker and Daniels lay perfectly still, as to not be confused with one of the dead.

  “You boys okay down there?” the voice called down from the fifth floor.

  Daniels and Bunker still refused to move.

  “Hey, you, Cop. I’m talking to you.” The voice called out.

  Daniels lifted his weary arms in the air as he looked up at the building. He expected to see a twenty-something-year-old kid hanging out of the window. The man in the window looked as though he was in his mid to late thirties. Even from this distance, Daniels could see he was muscular, supporting a black beard and Oakley shooting sunglasses. Covered in camo clothing and wearing a tan baseball hat backward gave him an intimidating and confident look. It reminded Daniels of Ty when he played catcher for his little league baseball team.

  “We’re okay,” Daniels said, waving one of his arms at the stranger.

  “Put your arms down,” the bearded man said, “you and your friend had better come up here where it’s safe. All that firing we just did is going to attract a hell of a lot more of those assholes. Use the green door on the south side of the building.

  Daniels gave the man a thumb up and motioned for Destiny and the kids to join him. Together they worked their way around to the south side.

  Outside the building door, were more signs of slaughter. Dead were strewn across the sidewalk and planters. Their bodies were disjointed and flattened.

  “What happened to them?” Sage asked.

  Destiny looked up at the broken out windows above, “I’ll tell you what happened girl. These shit kickers threw all these here dead out the window for fun. I appreciate what they just done for us, but we don’t need ‘um.”

  Bunker and Daniels looked at each other but didn’t say anything. She was right. They didn’t know who these guys were, and they seemed pretty gung ho.

  Daniels wasn’t looking for a fight; his priority was getting to his family.

  He rested his hand on Destiny’s shoulder, “I understand your concerns, Des, but to me, they look like military. I’ve seen guys dressed like that in the Middle East War footage. They’re probably part of some elite military group.”

  “Or, they’re part of some group that’s here to exterminate all of us.” Destiny retorted.

  “I’ll tell you why you’re wrong. First, they’re military. They might know of some safe-haven or uninfected areas. They may be able to give us the inside scoop. We can find out what the government is doing to fix this.

  Second, if they wanted to kill us, they could have done it when we were lying on the ground. Taking us out would have been as easy as annihilating those zombies. Maybe they need us, and maybe we need them. We won’t know for sure until we talk with them.”

  Destiny thought about it for a few seconds, but still wasn’t convinced, “I hope you’re right, and if you’re wrong, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

  Bunker gave the door a push, but it was barricaded from the inside.

  “Hang on, folks,” the voice on the inside yelled. After a few loud bangs and a metal scraping sounds, the door swung open. Another man in a backward hat was standing there. He was younger than the one they had spoken to before. He also lacked the beard.

  “Come in quick, so I can get this thing locked back up. There’s more infected coming from the east. Master Sergeant is up there alone.”

  Daniels helped the soldier lift the heavy steel bar off the floor and secured it across the door.

  “Thanks for the help. That thing is heavy,” the soldier said.

  Kaden noticed the black 2-way communicator microphone strapped to his neck and thought it was cool. Daniels saw the M4 and a belt full of grenades. He didn’t think the soldier looked cool; he thought he looked deadly.

  “Hey, guys, nice to meet you. I’m Petty Officer Beck. You can just call me Beck. Master Chief Sawyer is upstairs waiting for us. He’s the Bullfrog around here.”

  “Bullfrog?” Ceci asked.

  “Sorry. I forgot you’re civilians. It means he’s been around the longest on our team. But I guess that’s not hard to do, consider
ing there are only two of us left.”

  “Team?” Bunker questioned.

  “We’re the last of our Seal Team. We were sent on a special mission to try and located a doctor that may have the cure... I better stop there. I’m not sure how much information I’m allowed to disseminate to you. You’ll have to ask the Master Chief.”

  “I’m Daniels, this is Bunker, and over there are Destiny, Kaden, and Cecilia. You can call her Ceci if you prefer.”

  “Nice to meet you, folks. Let’s get you upstairs. We’ve got some bottled water up there. None of you drank any of that tap water shit have you?”

  Kaden held up his backpack, “Nothing but bottled for us.”

  “That’s great. Okay, folks. Let's head upstairs.”

  Beck led the way to the stairs and walked past.

  “Hey Beck,” Bunker called out, “Don’t we want to take the stairs?”

  Beck kept walking a few more steps, stopped at the elevator, and pushed the button. The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open.

  “Why walk when we can travel in style?” Beck said, as he stepped into the elevator.

  Cecilia looked concerned, “What if the power goes out while we’re in there?”

  “No worries. The power is pretty stable in this grid, but when it goes out, we just pry the doors open. It’s easy, and it beats walking up and down those stairs all day.”

  They all followed Beck into the elevator car. Cecilia took a deep breath as the doors closed in front of them.

  Daniels put his arm around her, “It’s okay, honey. Nothing is going to happen. I promise you. Close your eyes and I’ll tell you when we’re there.”

  Before her eyes closed all the way, the elevator dinged.

  “Don’t bother, we’re here,” Daniels said removing his arm.

  The doors opened. The bearded man from the window was standing there with a hand in the air waving, and a smile on his face, “Hi, folks. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I don’t suppose any of you are Dr. Sophie Simone or Col. Robert Aiken?”

  Chapter 28

  I ran around the recently acquired Humvee to Chevy’s door and looked back at everyone. They were still standing there looking at me.

  “Stop staring at me and help. A zombie bit Chevy!” I screamed.

  Mom and Cowboy rushed over and helped me drag him out of the back seat. We laid him on the ground and stood over him. He lay there staring back at us like we were idiots, “What the hell is wrong with you guys?”

  I'm all right. I can stand up and walk. I don’t even feel sick.”

  He may not have felt sick, but everyone could tell Chevy was much paler now than he was this morning.

  Mom wrapped her arms around him and gave him a big hug, “What happened, honey?”

  Chevy sat up and told his story again, “I was trying to find the keys for a sweet ass Lamborghini that Ty destroyed on the way over here. You know, I thought it’d be cool to take it for a spin. I always wanted to drive one. So anyway, I couldn’t find the keys on the key board. I thought I’d try the desk drawers. While I was checking, I had my back to the bathroom. I had never cleared the room to make sure it was empty. It was my stupidity. I just assumed since the warehouse was locked, there wouldn’t be anyone in there. I would have never guessed the caretaker had an apartment in the building. You know what happens when you assume, right, Mom?”

  Mom smiled and rubbed Chevy’s cheek, “Yes, I know, honey.”

  “I guess he made an ass out of me. I turned around and fought with him, and it took a minute before I could get a shot off. I got him though, but it wasn’t until after he got me.” Chevy held up the bite wound on his arm. The teeth impressions were already turning black, and the dark tint was spreading away from the wound. Mom pulled him in close and hugged him tight. She didn’t make any noise, but tears were flowing uncontrollably from her eyes.

  To my surprise, Sidara also dropped to her knees, hugging Chevy, and bawling. She wasn’t alone. Over the next few minutes, everyone took turns talking with Chevy. Some of us laughed, some of us cried. We all said goodbye in our own way. He was laughing while telling the story of the time he jumped his truck at the golf course. Everyone laughed and seemed happy. But no one was.

  It was the same feeling I got when I went to see a family friend in the hospital. It was years ago, she had been diagnosed with brain cancer a month earlier, and now only had days to live.

  We told jokes and stories. Everyone seemed to be happy. But nobody was. She was sick, very sick. My mind kept telling me when I walked out of that hospital room; I’d never see Nina again, and I didn’t. One day she was there, and the next she was gone.

  That’s what was happening now. Only it wasn’t a family friend. It was Chevy, my best friend. My brother.

  I sat on the ground next to Chevy, joking and poking holes in his stories. I even found myself holding his hand. He held it back. We laughed and joked, but I knew he was afraid, afraid of dying and, even more, afraid of turning into a zombie. He looked over at remnants of the burned zombies who caught fire from the explosion. He squeezed my hand tighter and said, “Don’t let that happen to me, Ty.”

  I squeezed back, “I won’t. I promise.”

  Sophie walked over and asked if she could look at Chevy’s bite. He raised his arm as she knelt down next to him. She examined the bite and asked, “How are you feeling?”

  Chevy tried to work up a smile while he spoke, “Well, considering I won’t see another sunrise, I say I'm doing as well as can be expected.”

  Sophie held up her stethoscope, “Do you mind if I take a listen?”

  Chevy laughed, “By all means, Doc.”

  Sophie lifted up his shirt and rested the end of the stethoscope on his chest.

  “Oh, that’s cold,” he said flinching away.

  “Come on you big baby,” she teased, replacing the stethoscope and ordering him to take a deep breath, again and again.

  When she was done listening, she pulled his shirt down and used both hands to feel something in his neck. She finished by laying the back of her hand on his forehead.

  “So, what's up, Doc?”

  With a comforting smile, she gave him the news, “Other than the obvious bite mark, you’re healthy as a horse.”

  Chevy looked away from Sophie and asked, “How long until I turn, Doc?”

  Sophie lifted his arm and examined the bite again running her fingers across the wound and pushing against the darkening edges, “The bite from the creature, caused minor lacerations. Judging from the appearance of the bite wounds there was clearly transference of the virus from the host. I’m sorry, Chevy.”

  Chevy forced a chuckle, “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know, Doc.”

  “I’m sorry, Chevy.”

  “It’s okay, Doc. How long have I got?”

  “Twelve hours. Maybe a little less.”

  Chevy yanked his arm away from Sophie, “Get out of here, Doc. I’m gonna beat this thing. You’ll see. Now get out of here so I can talk with my brother.”

  Sophie apologized again as Chevy dismissed her with a wave.

  “That was kind of rude, Chevy. She wasn’t being mean.”

  “I know, but I don’t want to hear it. I told you, I’m gonna beat this thing.”

  Chevy broke down, and I held his hand tighter.

  “I don’t want to die, Ty.”

  The only thing I could do was lie to my friend, "Everything is going to be okay. I promise."

  Chevy was in the middle of a meltdown when Sophie returned a couple of minutes later. He was embarrassed when he realized she saw him crying and attempted to dismiss her again, “I thought I told you to leave, we don't need you here.”

  She bent over at the waist and looked him in the face, “You did tell me to leave, but not before I give you this. You mouthy little shit.”

  Sophie drove a syringe into Chevy’s infected arm. She slammed her thumb against the plunger, and I watched as the red fluid swirled in the hypodermic and disappeared i
nto his arm. Chevy yanked his arm away in pain, “Ouch! What the hell did you just do to me?”

  Sophie dropped the syringe at his feet, “I just saved your life. It’s ZMapp.”

  Chevy looked at the drop of blood coming from the pinhole in his arm, “What’s ZMapp?” he asked.

  “It’s the cure,” Sophie said as she walked away.

  Chapter 29

  It had taken thirteen days of back road driving for Kane’s brother to get back to Plattsburgh. As he pulled into the fairgrounds entrance, even from a distance, he could see there was something wrong.

  The garage door on the steel building tore from its tracks and lay on the ground in shambles. He was cautious as he parked on the far side of the grounds and crossed the field to the damaged building. The structure appeared abandoned.

  The stranger never much liked groups, or even people for that fact. He was a loner and kept to himself most of his life. Even in jail, he didn’t associate with any groups. The whites, blacks, and browns. That was all jail bullshit for the weak. People like him were strong and crazy enough to be left alone.

  Right out of High School they gave him a nickel for a weak ass burglary charge. A whole lot of crap if you asked him. He admitted he was in someone else’s house, but he didn’t steal anything. There was nothing good in that dump anyway. All he did was slap an old woman in the face when she tried to call the police. They nailed him with a burglary second charge. Something about committing a crime inside of a residence you're not supposed to be inside of.

  The judge said he was getting away with a slap on the wrist. That slap turned out to be five years in an upstate prison in Dannemora, New York.

  A sentence like that might have scared most people, but for the stranger, it was a chance to get away, eat regular food, watch cable TV, and kick his opiate habit. This time, he’d get off the smack for good.

  They say the fist time you go to jail you’re tested to see how tough you are. Proving himself in a fight was something he’d never had to do before, and he wasn’t concerned about it happening. The important thing was to make sure you’re ready for it. It didn’t take very long. As a matter of fact, it came on the first day. Walking into a block with a bunch of new fish was a perfect opportunity for a veteran inmate to put someone to the test. Most new fish are weak and quiet people. They were usually the first to be tested, and they almost always failed. Most would end up being passed around the cellblock wearing blush and lipstick. The different gangs in the prison made them their bitches.