Zombie Crusade

by J. W. Vohs

  Deputy Little looked a bit scared as he asked, “What do you want me to do?”

  “Give me both sets of your handcuffs.”

  The deputy looked confused but handed the restraints over without question. Jack then went into the sheriff’s cell and handcuffed each of the stricken officer’s arms to the bed post as gently as possible. He then motioned for Deputy Little and Barry to join him in the small room. Jack nodded toward the old sheriff, “He’s stopped breathing.”

  “He’s dead?” the deputy asked in a strained voice.

  “Come here,” Jack instructed. “Put your hand on his chest.”

  Deputy Little did as ordered, and half a minute later stood up and declared, “He’s gone.”

  Jack reached out and pulled him a step back, whispering, “Watch with me for a few minutes, Jeff.”

  The few minutes passed, becoming five, ten, then fifteen. Finally the dead officer’s body began to twitch all over, and then his eyes fluttered open, black and soulless. Deputy Little jumped and nearly shouted, “He’s still alive! We’ve gotta get him outta those cuffs—”

  Again Jack grabbed the deputy, then quietly commanded, “Watch, and be quiet.”

  The corpse stopped twitching, unblinking eyes staring at the ceiling. Thirty seconds passed and then the zombie turned its head in their direction and seemed to stare at them. After a brief moment, the creature let out a soft moan which caused Deputy Little to involuntarily take a step back in shock. The zombie immediately responded to the movement by pulling at his restraints and gnashing his teeth. The deputy took another step back, accompanied by Barry this time.

  Deputy Little was quiet when he spoke, “God Almighty, sheriff, is this what’s been happening to everyone who’s infected?”

  “As far as I know.”

  “Is he alive?”

  “Whatever he is,” Jack explained, “All he wants to do is eat us.”

  “What are you gonna do? I mean, you just can’t kill him, can you?”

  Jack considered, “I’ll tell you what, we lock this door and make sure I’m the only one with a key. After we answer a few calls on these things tonight, you can tell me what to do with him.”

  As soon as the cell was secured Andi told Jack that Deputy Miller was outside waiting for him. Jack walked out to see this deputy standing proudly in front of four, large, flatbed trucks loaded with the materials he had requested.

  Miller explained, “Each of the trucks has the same load, more or less, so if you want me to I can send them on their way.”

  “Good work, Steve,” Jack said. “Yeah, send a truck to each fire station and two to the courthouse. You take charge out at Station 1. I’m sending Little out to Station 2, and I’ll get things started over at the courthouse.”

  “What are we gonna do about this place, sheriff?”

  Thinking of the zombie locked inside he said, “My friend, Andi Carrell, will run the phones for a while, and we can lock up the infected down here if we need to. Other than that, we’re not going to try to set up a base here with the courthouse so close.”

  “What about all our stuff?”

  “I’ll have it moved over to the courthouse for now. Don’t worry about it, Steve, just get started fortifying the station and I’ll be out within a few hours to give you an update and see how things are going.”

  The deputy nodded, then turned back to the truck drivers and told each of them where to take their loads. Jack sent Deputy Little along with the trucks and explained to Andi what he needed her to do at the office.

  “Stay here and answer the phones. Tell everyone who calls to avoid the infected and get to one of the safe-houses. If somebody is trapped, or something else comes up that you think we should help out with, give me a call. Well, actually, call The Castle first and have the RRT take care of any emergency. If they’re already occupied then give me a call; I think I’m going to be very busy tonight.”

  “What should I do if people show up here?”

  Jack looked alarmed, “Don’t even think about opening that door. I’m leaving a Glock with plenty of extra clips, plus a shotgun on your desk. Don’t hesitate to use them on anything or anyone who’s a threat to your safety. Carter did show you how to use automatic pistols and shotguns?”

  “He did, but I already knew how to use both; my dad enjoyed shooting and made sure I knew how to handle firearms by the time I was twelve. Carter also gave me this.”

  She held up a light mace. “And I’ve got this silenced .22 and a dagger.”

  “Well,” Jack considered, “the day will come when you’ll need those weapons, but for now you just blast the crap out of these things if anything happens, which it won’t, because you’re not going to open the door to this place while I’m gone!”

  Andi cocked her head and gave a small smile, “Ok, I’ve got it. Now go on out there and do what you have to do. I’ll be fine here.” She stepped forward, put her hands on Jack’s shoulders, and gently started to steer him towards the door.

  Jack turned and pulled her close to him. He briefly kissed her, then stepping back he explained, “I’m not trying to be a jerk; I just worry about leaving you here alone.”

  She touched his hand, “Just how do you think people feel when you’re off chasing zombies by yourself?”

  “Good point,” Jack agreed. “Just be careful, and I promise that I will be too.”

  Jack’s first stop was the courthouse. A few hundred people had gathered in the building; the two trucks filled with supplies were parked outside, but nobody was doing anything to make the place safe. The first thing Jack did was quiet everyone down and take a count of how many able-bodied adults were in the building. One hundred and thirteen people between the ages of twenty and sixty, forty-one teenagers, sixty-three children, and twenty-two seniors were present. Jack soon determined that twenty men and six women had military or law enforcement experience, and after settling the children and seniors into several interior rooms, he told the veterans that they would have to form the nucleus of the militia.

  Dozens of weapons and thousands of rounds of ammo had been toted in by the civilians, but Jack knew that most of those bullets would end up somewhere other than in the heads of zombies, so he pulled the most athletic-looking men aside and explained the concept of medieval fighting. Axes, mauls, and ice-breakers were loaded onto the trucks, and spears could be fashioned from all sorts of materials. Spare poles were being fitted with stout knife blades, creating rudimentary pikes that could be wielded by almost anyone. Finally, ten penny nails were driven through two-by-fours for use as studded clubs.

  After a guard was set around the perimeter, Jack positioned a spotter on top of the building with NVG’s, a cell phone, and a two-way radio. Then he led the rest of the adults out to the trucks and told them that Barry would be supervising the construction. Jack had already told Barry what he wanted done, with the same instructions given to the deputies sent to organize the fire stations.

  First floor doors and windows were boarded up with four by four timbers. The first ten steps on the stairs leading to the upper floors were smashed with sledge hammers, and aluminum ladders were set up for access off of the first floor. Barbed wire entanglements were set up around the entire perimeter; they knew it wouldn’t stop the zombies, but it would slow them down and give the guards time to get back to the court house.

  Confident that Barry had this situation well in hand, Jack decided to check on progress out at the two fire-stations under the control of his deputies. With smaller facilities to fortify he wasn’t surprised to find the work progressing even faster than down at the courthouse, but he was discouraged by the fact that only about one hundred people had come in to each location. As things currently stood, something less than five percent of the county’s pre-virus population had shown up at the designated safe-houses. Jack decided to call the office to check in on Andi and see if she had any information about more people heading to safety. She assured him that everything was fine at the sheriff’s o
ffice, and encouraged him by explaining that she had fielded dozens of calls from people with questions about the locations of the safe-houses, as well as what items to bring with them.

  Andi reassured him, “Remember, this is America; taking care of yourself and your family runs in our bloodlines. Who isn’t armed in this county? Seems to me that every male, and quite a few females, are hunting deer on opening day. We’ve got to have more guns than people in our county.”

  Jack argued, “Guns are going to be more of a problem than a solution; head shots on moving targets that induce panic and disbelief are going to be difficult to make. The noise of the gunshots will bring more zombies to the locations, and failed self-protection attempts are going to result in more infection. Trust me, Andi, shooting a deer eating corn forty yards away is a far cry from trying to stop a monster bent on your destruction.”

  “I understand, Jack, but this isn’t Russia. Our people believe in their rights and they don’t like being told what to do. Heck, I’ll bet half of the county won’t come in just because they don’t like taking orders from you or anyone else.”

  Jack thought for a moment, “We’re going to have a bloodbath on our hands. I’ve seen highly trained soldiers freeze up when faced with people trying to kill them. You’re the history teacher; how many bullets were fired in Vietnam for every dead VC? I think I read somewhere that it was over one hundred-thousand. Believe me, I hope to God that I’m wrong, but people don’t know what they’re facing out there. As far as I can tell, one bite and you’re infected. That means you can decisively win a battle and still lose the war to remain free of the virus.”

  Andi agreed, “You’re probably right, but I hope you’re wrong. I’ll keep advising callers to try to follow the bulletin and come into one of the safe-houses you’re establishing.”

  “Keeping those doors locked?”

  “Yes, Mr. Smith,” Andi sarcastically replied, “but nobody has knocked yet either.”

  “All right, just keep me informed. I hope to be back there in a few hours.”

  “Ok, I’ll see you then. Be careful out there, Jack. You still owe me a date.”

  Less than fifteen minutes later a furious pounding began on the outer door to the sheriff’s office. Andi looked up, startled but confident that she could handle the situation. She walked up to the door and shouted, “Sheriff’s office is closed; go to the courthouse if you need help.”

  What sounded like a young girl cried from beyond the door, “Please ma’am! Open the door!”

  “I’m sorry, you’ll have to go over to the courthouse.”

  “Ma’am, just look out your window; please, for God’s sake help us!”

  Andi looked through the peephole and saw a teenaged girl with a young boy huddled against her, peering back in speechless fear at the two zombies closing in on them. The distance was hard to judge through the peephole, but the fear on the children’s faces left Andi with no choice. She quickly unlocked the door and swung it open for the kids. They had been leaning against the door and fell through when it suddenly opened. Andi tried to close the door immediately but the boy’s foot was stuck between the door and the jam. Just as she reached down to pull the kid the rest of the way in a zombie grabbed the heel of the boy’s foot and loudly moaned. Then everything happened very fast.

  The little boy finally found his voice with a blood-curdling scream. He jerked his leg so hard that his shoe came off in the zombie’s hand, causing the creature to fall backward with the momentum of his pull. Andi took advantage of the zombie’s clumsy release of the boy to pull the youngster the rest of the way into the room, but just as she reached up to close the door the second creature stepped over his fallen partner and stuck a mangled hand through the narrow opening. Before Andi could jump up and use her weight to try to prevent the zombie from coming through the door, the gore-covered monster crashed through and lunged for her as she stood protectively over the boy.

  Andi felt panic wash over her as she was momentarily immobilized by fear at the zombie’s attack. She was wearing her biker gear, but she didn’t have on gloves, a helmet, or neck protection, and the zombie managed to grab a handful of her hair as she tried to twist away from the creature’s lunge. As the zombie leaned forward to bite her scalp she was able to throw her left arm up in time to catch the monster’s teeth in the folds of her jacket. The bite hurt so bad she let out a small yelp of pain as the kids began screaming in the corner of the room. Andi briefly wondered what they were so afraid of when she was the one being attacked until she saw that the other zombie had regained its footing and was advancing on them.

  Suddenly she found herself more concerned about the safety of the kids than her own situation, and she actually managed to calm her mind enough to remember the weapons attached to her belt. She reached down and fumbled for the .22 pistol, but just as she pulled it free from the holster the zombie holding her hair gave a violent tug as it tried to reach the flesh beneath her leather and Kevlar sleeve. Fueled by the pain of the ferocious bite, she grabbed ahold of the mace, which was the only other weapon she could reach with her right arm. Pulling it free from the belt, she swung the weapon against the zombie’s ear with a blow that didn’t seem to faze the monster.

  For some reason she would never quite understand, the zombie’s seeming indifference to her counterattack made her so angry that all fear was immediately replaced by an intense desire to hurt this creature so determined to kill her and the children. This time she dropped the head of the mace below her hip and swung it so hard she grunted with exertion. The blow hit the zombie just above the right eye, crushing the socket and stunning the creature enough that it momentarily let go of her hair. Andi took advantage of the new freedom of movement and took a two-handed grip on the mace, swinging it like a softball bat into the side of the zombie’s head with enough force to send it sprawling on the floor.

  Before she could finish the creature she once again became aware of the children screaming. Quickly finding them off to her left she saw that they were moving back and forth along the far wall of the room, ducking under the slow-moving zombie’s feeble attempts to grab them. This creature wasn’t in very good condition. One arm hung uselessly at its side even as its left leg kept buckling at the knee.

  Andi darted over to the desk and grabbed the Remington 870 she had loaded with .00 buckshot, turning and shooting with one fluid movement that would have made her father proud. The blast caught the zombie threatening the children in the left arm and chest, sending the creature tumbling and rolling to the floor. The kids came rushing to her side, crying as they grabbed her around the waist with thankful hugs. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she finally pried the kids loose and gently told them that the zombies weren’t quite dead yet, and indeed, both of them were still moaning and writhing on the floor. Andi told the kids to hop up on her desk and look away, as she picked up her .22 from where it had fallen. They obeyed her command, and she calmly shot each zombie twice in the head.

  After waiting for a few seconds to make sure each of the monsters was finally dead, Andi crossed the room and closed and locked the door. Then she walked back over to the kids, where she sat down between them and began to tremble violently. The girl asked, “Lady, are you ok?”

  Andi could only nod her head, not trusting herself to speak until she managed to calm her nerves. After a few moments she stood back up and shrugged out of her jacket, carefully examining her left arm to see how badly she was wounded. A large bruise was forming on the fleshy part of her forearm, but there was no blood, and no sign of any puncture marks. Finally, she let out a long sigh and allowed herself to accept the fact that she hadn’t been infected.

  Blissfully unaware of the near fatal situation Andi had just survived at the sheriff’s office, Jack finished his inspection of the defenses being quickly constructed at Fire Station 2. Pulling Deputy Little aside he asked, “Have you been keeping a log of everyone coming in here?”

  The deputy nodded and Jack continued, “Find
a male and female who have some sort of medical training; nurses, EMTs, firemen, whatever, and have them conduct full exams of everyone currently inside your wire and everyone else who shows up here. Anyone with a bite wound needs to be tightly quarantined. Once you have that accomplished, start setting up perimeter fire teams, but make sure all of your fighters have hand-held weapons as well. Remember, try to avoid making noise.”

  Confident that Deputy Little had the situation under control and fully understood his orders, Jack headed out to his Jeep and called Deputy Miller with the same instructions. With the safe houses progressing as well as he could hope, Jack decided to stop by the office and see how Andi was doing. His question was answered after he quietly unlocked the door and stepped into the building to find her standing with a shotgun in her hands. The weapon wasn’t pointed at him, but a quick look around the room told him that there had been trouble. Two dark stains on the floor with drag marks leading toward a side-office told him most of what he needed to know, along with the two dirty children eating snacks and drinking sodas as they sat on Andi’s desk.

  Jack grimly smiled. “Two kids being chased by two zombies and you opened the door to let them in. The zombies managed to get in here too, and you killed them both with the shotgun.”

  “Sure you aren’t a real cop?” Andi quipped.

  “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, but he could see that she was fighting back tears. Jack walked up to her and wrapped her in his arms, whispering, “You’re all right. You did the right thing here.”

  She sniffled, “You told me not to open the door. I’m sorry but I just couldn’t leave them out there.”

  “I know. It’s ok. I gave you instructions that you couldn’t possibly follow. That’s my fault.”