Transformation: Zombie Crusade VI

by Vohs, J. W.

  “Well,” Luke jumped in, “I’d love to have guns and ammo for everyone, but we don’t need to rely on them. We’ll be deadlier with our edged and pointed weapons anyway.”

  “Is that what you’ll be telling our soldiers this evening?” Maddy asked after taking a swig from her canteen. “Everybody’s talking about how you’re making a special announcement after dinner.”

  Luke groaned, and Gracie reached over and held his hand. “I guess I implied that you’d be addressing the troops tonight,” she said gently, “and that you’d be taking questions.”

  Zach looked concerned. “What’s this about?”

  “Terry saw Luke’s eyes, and he knows he survived a bite,” Gracie explained. “It seems there’s been some talk—nothing disrespectful. I told my unit that Luke would be updating them about our plans, and that he’d answer any questions they might have.” She paused and eyed her husband. “After what happened earlier today, I think the timing couldn’t be better.”

  CHAPTER 17

  The fitness center was located directly behind headquarters, and the small gym that once held company and battalion basketball tournaments was the perfect venue for Luke to address his troops. Mr. Raker and his young assistants were also invited to attend, along with the special needs students. The bleachers could only hold about 150 spectators, so Terry made sure that a section of the front row was reserved for the teacher, along with plenty of space for wheelchairs to be maneuvered in and out. With the help of a couple of generators, the lighting was decent, and the acoustics of the gym overrode the need for a sound system. By 7:00, everyone had assembled as requested—anyone who couldn’t find a seat in the stands either sat on the floor or leaned against one of the side-walls.

  Rowdy applause greeted Luke as he walked to the center of the court, but when he raised his hand to quiet the crowd, the soldiers immediately fell silent. He motioned for Gracie, Zach, and Maddy to join him before he began to speak. “First, I want to thank everyone here; I know I’ve asked a lot of you, and I know we’ve lost some remarkable people. It’s a testament to your skill and dedication that we’ve had so few casualties.”

  He paused and nodded toward Jerome and the rest of the students. “You’ve probably noticed that we have some guests with us this evening. When the outbreak was unfolding, and all hell broke loose everywhere, an extraordinary teacher in Texarkana—with the assistance of some incredible student helpers—not only figured out a way to keep his class safe, but figured out how to manage long-term survival. If anyone ever questions the resiliency or the determination of the human spirit, just remember Mr. Bill Raker and these kids. We all have our crosses to bear, and, since the pandemic, it can seem like the burden is too much. We’ve all suffered great losses. We all know despair. These amazing people were pretty much overloaded before Barnes unleashed his virus. But they survived—against all odds, they survived. Just by being here, they’ve beaten Barnes. They’re in my heart; they’re my heroes, and they deserve your applause more than I do.” The gym thundered with respectful clapping.

  When it was quiet again, Luke continued, “You are the Army of the Allied Resistance, my Army. You have followed me without question; you’ve risked your lives and worked your butts off, and you deserve to know what we’ll be doing here and where we’re headed.”

  Someone in the crowd shouted, “We’re headed to kick President Barnes’ ass!” The soldiers erupted in enthusiastic agreement.

  Luke smiled, held up his hand, and shook his head. “I agree with the sentiment, but don’t ever call that man ‘president’ again.” He took a swig from a bottle of water and cleared his throat. “I can’t say for certain, but I’ve got a feeling that Barnes will be targeting Utah. As far as I know, the brave souls out there have managed to maintain the largest pocket of organized civilization in America. They’ve been a part of the Allied Resistance since the beginning. We’re going to use the resources in this depot to build ourselves a mobile fortress, one that will be able to withstand a horde if necessary, and we’re going to join with our allies in the Beehive State.”

  Luke stopped to take a breath and scan the audience for questions about the mission, perhaps from someone who didn’t know Utah’s nickname. He knew he was stalling, hoping to put off the rest of the speech, but after an awkward minute of silence he drained the rest of his water bottle and forged ahead. “There’s one more thing I need you to know, but I’m not really sure where to begin.”

  Gracie walked up next to Luke and whispered in his ear, “I’ll help you get started.” She smiled warmly at the audience and projected her voice, “You all know me as an officer, but I hope you all remember that I’m Luke’s wife as well. Even though we’re young, we’ve been through a lot together. When we were finishing off the wounded flesh-eaters after the Battle of Vicksburg, Luke was attacked and bitten in the hand by a dying hunter.” A few gasps echoed in the otherwise silent gymnasium. “A lot of the western troops had been spreading stories about a few bite-victims being saved out in Utah by immediately cutting open the punctures and bleeding the wound. We used the technique on Luke within seconds of him receiving the injury.

  “He still got sick that night, and by early morning he was delirious with fever, but he didn’t go into the coma and morph into an infected. He emerged from the fever with thick pink scar tissue covering the bite-wound, and some rather unsettling, coal-black eyes.”

  Luke removed his ever-present mirrored glasses and took over the story. “Turns out, nobody at Vicksburg actually knew of any specific person who’d recovered out west—the ‘bleeding out’ method was nothing more than a popular urban legend, so we don’t really know if anyone else has survived a bite. But we did figure out pretty quickly that my eyes tended to freak people out. When you see me up close, you’ll understand what I’m talking about.”

  Julian surprised everyone by wheeling himself out to center court. He stopped about a foot in front of Luke and stared into his eyes. A wide grin spread across the boy’s face, and he held up his hand. “High five,” he offered. Luke obliged, and then Julian turned and gave the crowd a thumbs-up before he rolled back to his spot in front of the bleachers. Any trepidation the soldiers felt about broaching the subject of Luke’s condition melted away by the time Julian resumed his place by Mr. Raker. At least a dozen hands shot up to ask questions.

  Luke pointed to a young woman a few rows back. “Can we catch the virus from your blood?” Half a dozen hands went down.

  Gracie answered, “Well, I’m married to him, and I’m infection free. But honestly, if any of us ever see Luke bleeding, I suggest we stay away and let him deal with it. We should handle it like we were always taught to handle strange blood growing up. My school made us learn a little song about ‘if it’s wet or sticky and it’s not yours, don’t touch it’ – stupid song, but good advice.”

  Terry waved his hand in the air, and Luke nodded at him. The young man stood up, “Sir, I think I can speak for most of us here when I say that we thought you were pretty damn special before we knew you’d survived a bite. Now you’re just even cooler.” The crowd whooped and hollered their support. Terry shouted his question above the din, “So did the bite have any other effect on you?”

  “I’ll take this one,” Gracie quickly replied, and the gym once again fell silent. “Luke’s never been one to brag, but he was the best hunter-killer in America before he was bitten, and he’s stronger, faster, and has a greater sixth sense about the monsters now than he did then. He doesn’t seem to need as much sleep, and he has better tolerance for the cold. Other than that, he’s still the same amazing man I fell in love with. We’re hoping that there really are a few bite survivors in Utah, because it would be nice to compare notes and see what other people went through.”

  Gracie took a moment to look around the room, thankful to see that everyone appeared completely satisfied with the new information they’d just received. She wasn’t necessarily surprised, as these impressionable young soldiers had travell
ed, trained, and fought beside Luke for weeks, but after seeing the people of Vicksburg freak out over Luke’s appearance, she hadn’t taken anything for granted here.

  “It’s been a long day for all of us,” Luke observed, “and I’m pretty sure that a lot of you would like to get a closer look at my eyes. For me, I’d like the opportunity to shake each of your hands and thank you for your service. We’ll dismiss by section, starting with the soldiers by the north wall; form a line that starts by me and feeds out the doors. Rendezvous with your unit commanders when you get back to Headquarters.”

  Overall, Major Daniels was pleased with the result of his impromptu visit to Barnes—the president was now aware that while Pruitt was whining about all the problems he was having in Northern California, Daniels was getting his job done, ahead of schedule, in the south. The rumors travelling Army circles about the disappearance of Sergeant Major Peterson suggested that Barnes wouldn’t tolerate incompetence or disloyalty, and Daniels believed that it wouldn’t be long before the president recognized the utter worthlessness of Pruitt and the value of uniting California under one territorial commander. When California is mine, Daniels thought to himself as the Blackhawk taking him to his main forward operating base landed, I’ll be living in my own palace, and I’ll be more valuable to Barnes than Peterson ever was. I’ll suck up as long as we’re playing by Barnes’ rules, but something is seriously off about that guy.

  He stopped thinking about his leader’s peculiarities when a fresh-faced lieutenant met him on the landing pad. The youngster saluted as he shouted, “Welcome to Camp Daniels, sir!”

  The major casually returned the salute and smiled. “Well, son, I’m honored to have a staging area for hundreds of thousands of eaters and uncountable piles of cattle manure named after me.”

  The inexperienced officer’s face reddened as he hastily explained, “We meant no disrespect, sir.”

  Daniels gently slapped the lieutenant on the back. “Lighten up, son; it was a joke. Where’s Captain Bell?”

  The young soldier seemed to recover most of his composure. “Sir, the captain ordered me to offer you an immediate tour of the facility, or lunch in our mess. He’s out supervising a massive feeding operation at the moment.”

  Daniels narrowed his eyes, “Is there a problem?”

  “We, uh, well, we have a situation in Pen One that required immediate attention, sir.” A Hummer pulled up, driven by an attractive female sergeant. “This is your ride, sir. If you head over to the mess, I’m sure Captain Bell will be able to meet you there within the hour.”

  Daniels nodded. “Lunch can wait; I want to see how you’re managing a quarter of a million eaters—we’ll start out at Pen One.”

  “I wouldn’t recommend that, sir,” the pretty young sergeant interjected. “It’s not a secure area.”

  Daniels was irritated that an underling would question his orders, but he bit his tongue and took a closer look at the young woman. She was wearing a complete set of the Army’s best body armor, with a short sword attached, as well as an assortment of daggers and a wicked-looking hatchet. He found the ensemble unusually stimulating and decided to turn on the charm. “I appreciate your warning, Sergeant, but I’d never ask my soldiers to do anything I’m not prepared to do myself. And if there’s trouble, I need to know exactly what’s going on.” He paused for dramatic effect. “My orders stand; I need to see Pen One.”

  In fewer than ten minutes the trio had arrived at what passed for a ‘holding pen’ at Camp Daniels. The sergeant parked the SUV next to a well-worn dirt path leading up a hill to the main observation post overlooking Pen One. Daniels was not pleased with the set-up. Old power poles had been planted at roughly two-hundred meter intervals around what appeared to be a hundred-acre plot of churned up earth filled with tens of thousands of flesh-eaters. Loudspeakers sat atop the poles, and he didn’t have to be told that the only thing between him and the horde of creatures was the signal Barnes had developed to control the beasts.

  Daniels immediately recognized several additional problems, the most significant being the extremely overcrowded holding area. “Lord almighty, how many eaters have you designated to this pen? The stench here is unbearable!” A cattle chute made of railway ties had been built from the top of another hill a few hundred meters to the west. The crude but heavy fence near the chute ended just inside the invisible perimeter formed by the signals keeping the flesh-eaters in their pen. The purpose of the arrangement was obvious, but Daniels felt compelled to point out the obvious flaw in the system. “You need more feeding sites here,” he declared angrily, “I’m sure there’s a riot every time you send the cattle in. Where the hell is Captain Bell?”

  The captain had stepped out from the guard building in time to hear Daniel’s criticisms. “You’re correct, sir,” Captain Bell agreed coolly, “but so many infected arrived so quickly that we didn’t have the time or resources to lay the camp out in a more efficient design.” He then saluted his commanding officer as an afterthought.

  Daniels, annoyed, didn’t return the salute. “Forget the damn formalities; what are you doing to fix these problems?”

  The captain’s face flushed crimson. “I have two hundred people to manage a quarter-million flesh-eaters in eight separate pens, and several million cattle scattered over hundreds of square miles. Hell, most of my folks are playing cowboy in sixteen-hour shifts; they’re starting to fall apart, Major. Right now, I’m out here supervising the feeding—these creatures haven’t eaten in three days.”

  “They’re supposed to be supplied with all the meat they can consume on a daily basis,” Daniel’s snapped as the first cattle crested their own hill and began pouring down the chute. He watched in disbelief as thousands of the most physically impressive flesh-eaters formed a gauntlet for several hundred meters and directed the livestock toward the teeming hordes further inside the perimeter. Daniels felt the hairs on the back of his neck stiffen as he watched the eaters cooperating on such a grand scale. He turned to the captain. “I take it you didn’t train them to form their own chute like that . . .”

  “No, Major, some of these creatures are getting damn good at anticipating our actions. Guys in the field claim they’ve been ambushed. I think this group knew we were prepping for a feeding and organized themselves accordingly.”

  “It’s just instinct,” Daniels pointed out. “These things have a pretty strong pack mentality.” As the cattle continued to descend through the chute, the mass of tens of thousands of flesh-eaters grew increasingly agitated. Daniels knew he had to formulate a plan to find more people for this operation, and fast. “Captain, I’ll shift troops from the northern frontier as soon as possible; a lot of the camp commanders are asking for reinforcements. I’ve read the reports you and the others have been sending, but I think you’ve been receiving the bulk of eaters from the Los Angeles area on top of what your men have been rounding up locally. As of now, consider yourself at capacity—we may even have to divert some of your eaters to a secondary location—”

  Daniels voice was cut off by the crackling and crashing of the cattle chute as it collapsed, piece by piece. The fence that had been containing the cattle at the base of the hill splintered outward, creating a huge gap. Hundreds of cattle were still pouring over the hill, then stampeding through the gap as tens of thousands of flesh-eaters descended upon them.

  The shrieks and moans escalated through the dusty haze. “Jesus, they’re outside the perimeter!” Captain Bell shouted. “Containment has failed; this entire pen is compromised!”

  Daniels would later learn that only one wire had been used to feed the electricity to the loudspeakers, the most vital pieces of equipment in the entire camp. The wire had supposedly been buried along its route to the first pole in the circuit, but somehow the powerfully churning hooves of the stampeding cattle had broken the connection.

  “We need to get back to base camp and figure out the extent of your system failure,” Daniels ordered. “We’ll get some choppers
in the air and lead these loose eaters away from here until you can reestablish security. Lieutenant, sergeant, you’re with me. Let’s move!”

  The three soldiers ran for the vehicle as fast as they could safely navigate the rocky slope, but infected were dribbling around the base of the hill in small groups, with at least half a dozen of the creatures suddenly appearing in front of the Hummer. The sergeant didn’t hesitate as she approached the howling monsters, smashing into the closest beast with her short sword in hand. Daniels quickly dropped three of the creatures with expert shots to the head. “Get in the damn vehicle!” he shouted as the lieutenant was taken down by a small male flesh-eater. The creature leapt on the young man’s back and sank its teeth into the flesh of his exposed neck. As blood from the carotid sprayed into the air, the remaining nearby hunters turned their attention to this succulent fresh meat in their midst.

  “The lieutenant has been kind enough to distract the eaters for us,” Daniels shouted to the sergeant who’d somehow managed to kill two more creatures. “Get us out of here now!”

  The sergeant didn’t look at the feeding as she jumped behind the wheel and slammed the vehicle into reverse. The SUV roared back into a half turn before rapidly accelerating away from the growing number of infected running toward what was left of the lieutenant.

  Daniels was impressed that the pretty sergeant was blood-splattered but certainly not panicked. She grabbed the mike of what was basically a powerful CB radio and called camp headquarters. Fortunately, a protocol had been established for just such a scenario, and within minutes a flight of Blackhawks was on its way to the camp, equipped with the broadcasting equipment that would allow them to corral the loose infected.

  The major was driven directly to his own chopper, where the waiting pilot already had the engine warm and was ready to lift off. “You should come with me, Sergeant. An officer of your caliber is wasted at a place like this, and you’ve certainly earned a promotion.”