Infected Zone (Book 1): Survivors of New York

by Kempf, Shaun

  ONE

  It was an urban street like so many he’s seen before. A number of different style houses lined the street with some cars parked on the street and a few others in the driveway. There were no kids playing in the yards, which were now severely overgrown and unkempt. There was no one around to care for the lawns, water the gardens and trim the hedges. This street did have some differences than others that he had seen. There was a car about half way down the block that had crashed into the street lamp, which now leaned at a slight angle. The driver side door was open, but the car was empty. A little further up and across the street laid a human skeleton or what was left of it.

  Ben had seen plenty of human remains in different stages of decomposition over the past five years. Some had been quite gory with a smell that had stayed with him for days, but aside from occasionally wanting to throw up due to the sight of the mangled flesh or the smell from sitting out in the sun for days, he felt nothing about seeing human remains. At first, he was worried that he had become detached so much that he could no longer feel empathy for those that had been here and lost their lives. What he realized was that it wasn’t a lack of empathy, but a lack of connection to these nameless corpses. Yes, they had been human like him at one time, but he had no connection to them. They had been just flesh and bone. It was like seeing a dead animal rather than what had been a person. He wondered if it was his corpse lying on the ground if anyone would give it a second look.

  Ben adjusted the old and worn NFL ball cap on his head. The team logo had faded, but if one looked close enough they might be able to make out the elongated white ‘G’. It didn’t matter, the team no longer existed. The bill of the cap was frayed just on the right side and there was a scorch mark on the back just above the left ear. When he had moments to think, he wondered what he would do when the stitching gave out.

  “Lieutenant.” The voice is almost a whisper. Ben turned to Static, his radio man, standing nearby. “Lieutenant, we found it.”

  Ben nodded his understanding. The less talk the better. Always. Static turned and lead Ben, at a jogging pace, two blocks up. The rest of the team had already gathered there, kneeling at the side of a blue house. Ben made his way through his team to the corner of the house and carefully peered around the side.

  The house they had been looking for wasn’t hard to miss. The small ranch style house was three houses down and across the street giving Ben a good view from his position. From what he could see it would have been a nice cozy house except for the two hundred or so Infected pounding on it.

  Infected. The term used, or better, created by the government to denote those that had become the living dead. Zombies. Ben had never been able to determine which term he preferred. Prior, he had only referred to them as Zombies, but since joining the Rangers he had gotten into the habit of calling them Infected. It made it sound like there was a cure for the living dead. The only cure Ben knew was the destruction of the Infected’s brain.

  The Infected he was looking at surrounded at least three sides, and Ben guessed the back of the house too. Based on the number of Infected and the size of the house he was surprised that the house hadn’t been broken into yet. Chances are, with the style of house it was, there was a glass sliding door that led to a patio or porch in the back. They must have it and the rest of the house barricaded pretty well or they were just damn lucky.

  Ben turned back to his team, “All right, here we go. Annie, do you think you can get on the roof of that house across the street?”

  Annie glanced toward the house Ben had pointed to. She quickly weighing her options, something she was good at and it is one of the many qualities Ben liked about her. She looked back to Ben causing her ponytail to sway behind her head. For some reason, even after all this time, it was still strange for Ben to see her ponytail sway behind her camouflaged face. It probably had to do with him associating a ponytail with sweet and innocent girls. There were probably very few of those left in the world.

  “I might need a boost, but, yeah, that would be a good spot.” She shifted her sniper rifle as if it was already pulling her to get into position.

  “Gatling, you give her that boost then join back up with us on the street.”

  Gatling, a massive man, nodded his understanding. Even crouched down Gatling looked large. He refused to wear camouflage paint. He had said that his face was dark enough that he could just blend in anywhere and didn’t figure it helped hide them from the Infected. Ben had agreed to that last point and didn’t wear any himself.

  “Static, Twitch, you two head up behind the houses on this side of the street. You’ll create the crossfire and catch any stragglers. Standing Bear, Gatling and I will create the firing line. Remember, as always, try to keep your line of fire away from the house as much as possible. We don’t want to hit the survivors inside. Let’s move.”

  Gatling and Annie paused only for a moment at the corner of the house before darting across the street at a crouch. For Gatling’s size, he was able to make himself surprisingly small. Ben realized that it had become a survival skill that he had mastered quickly. Everyone on his team had mastered survival skills. They were necessary while they were roaming around in infected zones. The sharpshooter and gorilla of a man disappeared around back of the house. Static and Twitch had taken off without hesitation leaving Standing Bear and Ben waiting. After a moment the two men saw Annie at the crest of the garage roof getting into firing position. Shortly thereafter Gatlin reappeared at the side of the house across the street and gave them the ready to go signal; a simple thumbs up.

  Even with their recent training from the Army, they had kept many of the simple hand signals they had used before being, what Twitch like to call, being called up the majors. They still used their old hand signals, not as a way to defy the training they had received, but simply because of the familiarity of it. Ben wasn’t about to argue that many times some of the training they had received had been valuable, but they had survived for two years in infected zones without the training. Still, he constantly tested his team on the things they had learned, in that off chance they would team up with another Ranger unit.

  As always, even though he had checked it twice before, Ben checked his M4 assault rifle to make sure it was securely loaded. The weapons available from the army had to be one the best perks that Ben liked. Before being recruited they had to scavenge for ammunition. If they couldn’t find more, either they went without, which made things more interesting or had to find another type of weapon they could find ammunition for. Now, they could simply refill their ammo pouches once they returned to base. The best part of being a Ranger, which had made their missions so much easier than they had been before joining, were the suppressors. Since the infected were attracted to sound, before they had suppressors, they had to more carefully plan things out. Now they could go into almost any situation quick and hard. He and his team always had suppressors on their rifles. They would fight no other way.

  He switched off the safety and did a quick check of his extra clips by patting his ammo pouches. He reached back and felt the full ammo pouches on his belt counting each as he touched each one. When he finished he looked up to see Annie giving the signal that Static and Twitch were in position.

  The three men stood and quietly walked out to the middle of the street before turning to face the house under siege. They were standing in a line, about an arm’s length apart, with Ben center, Standing Bear to his left and Gatlin to his right. Each man raised his rifle to their shoulder and Ben gave a loud whistle as if he was calling a dog. This effectively got the Infected’s attention.

  The Infected groan all together almost as
if they were not many separate hideous creatures, but rather as one massive beast. Realizing that prey, much easier to reach than what was in the house, was available the horde began to approach the three men on the road. Some stiffly walk, others shuffle, but they all move with purpose. The men did not fire. Not yet.

  They had to wait until the majority of the horde had cleared the house. It was a strategy they had learned long ago, after unfortunately hitting one of the people they were attempting to rescue. Thankfully, back then they didn’t have anyone to answer to, but those they were attempting to rescues, and mistakes like that only meant a lot of apologies and feeling guilty.

  Once Ben was sure the horde was far enough from the house he started to fire, thus notifying Standing Bear and Gatlin to also fire. They opened fire without abandonment. The soft pops of their guns filling the air as the suppressors worked to reduce the sounds of their weapons. Each man on the street doing his best to create one kill with one shot. Although ammunition was replenishable at the base, it was still limited in the field and it was always good practice to use only what you needed to stop an Infected. They’ve had a lot of practice and were very effective. Those that they missed or don’t see were taken care of by a well-placed round from Annie’s sniper rifle. The slower moving Infected were quickly taken down by Static and Twitch. The horde slowly began to thin, but those remaining continued to advance.

  Ben realized quickly that his estimate of their numbers might have been too low, but he continued to fire. There was no choice now. It was either fight or die, and Ben would always pick to fight. He had not always been a fighter, but the world he found himself in gave him reason to fight without hesitation.

  He heard Standing Bear’s firing stop as he attempted to quickly reload once again. Gatlin too suddenly stops firing to reload. When Ben’s weapon ran out of ammo, he didn’t stop to reload. He dropped his assault rifle which fell to his side, the strap keeping it from falling to the ground, and grabbed his SIG P228 handgun out of the holster from his thigh. He did not want to waste the time reloading again. The SIG wasn’t as strong as his primary weapon, but the Infected were close enough now that it didn’t matter. He squeezed the trigger time and time again. Each time another undead creature fell, never to rise again. He was faintly aware of a few other Infected dropping that he hadn’t shot, but paid them little attention as he began to stride toward the few remaining Infected.

  In a matter of moments, his SIG’s clip was empty. He did not pause to reload. In one quick fluid motion, he holstered his sidearm and pulled out his knife. An Infected, which appeared to have been a mailman at one point, charged at him with nothing more than thoughts of tearing into Ben’s flesh. Ben matched the Infected’s charge. He brought the knife up quickly which sliced with ease through the creature's jaw and up into its brain ending any spark of life that had been created by the disease. Ben pulled his knife out and the creature fell at his feet. He looked around ready to take down the next Infected, but he could only see a street filled with bodies.

  Static and Twitch came out from behind their house, keeping their weapons up, sweeping back and forth, and started to approach the beaten and ragged house the Infected had surrounded. They’ve all learned that the fight isn’t over until they’ve left the area. They would never let themselves be surprised again.

  Gatlin and Standing Bear step up next to Ben who wiped his knife on his pant leg, put it back in its sheath and began to reload his weapons.

  “Damn Lieutenant,” is all that Gatlin said as he shook his head and looked down at the heap that once was an Infected mailman.

  Ben turned and saw Standing Bear who was giving him the ‘what the hell were you thinking’ look. Ben quickly looked away.

  “Let’s get those people out of there and get the hell out of here,” Ben said. “Gatlin, you want to go help Annie get down?”

  “No need, I’m right here,” Annie proclaimed and she strolled up, her rifle cradled in her right arm. “If you wouldn’t have moved forward I could have gotten that last one for you and you wouldn’t have had to get your hands dirty.”

  “Annie, you know the Lieutenant likes to get his hands dirty.” Chimed in Static. “He wouldn’t have any other way.”

  The group approached the house. Ben went to the front door as his team covered him just in case any of the Infected that went down didn’t stay down. He pounded on the door. “U.S. Army Rangers. Open up, please.”

  “How do we know you’re not one of them?” said a male voice from behind the door.

  “Because I’m speaking to you. They don’t speak. And if they could speak I doubt any of them would be smart enough to try to fool you by claiming to be Rangers.”

  Ben could hear some muffled voices behind the door. Then after a moment, he could hear the barricade being deconstructed. Nails groaned as they were pulled out of their secure holdings in the wall. The thump and pop of the boards as they hit the ground, bounced and fell again. Minutes crawled by as the sounds repeated themselves again and again. Ben wondered what their plan had been once their food supply ran out. Perhaps that’s why they had finally made the call for help.

  Once the door finally opened the Rangers were greeted by a middle-aged man with a puffy unkempt beard. Behind him stood a woman who the man introduced as his wife then their two young children who clung to their mother like possum joeys. The kid’s eyes held a mixture of fear and wonderment as the Rangers came in the house. Twitch bent down and offered the kids some chocolate that he had brought with him. They were reluctant to take it until their mother took it for them. They chewed the sweet treat slowly, watching Twitch the whole time. The old warning ‘Don’t trust strangers’ was more important than ever. It was the ultimate rule of the world that these kids were growing up in.

  There were two other adults in the house who apparently were neighbors. They had all taken refuge in the house a week ago and had been surviving without trouble until yesterday when the neighbor’s son had gone to the garden to retrieve some more vegetables and decided to engage some nearby Infected. He successful killed three before he was overrun. The commotion along with a futile attempt to save the boy had attracted the horde completely trapping everyone inside. They had enough food yet to last about a month, but knew the Infected would not leave until they got inside. So, the call for help had been made.

  Stepping outside, Ben turned to Static, “Call us a pair of Taxies, Static.”

  “On it, Lieutenant.” Static grabbed his radio and started his radio chatter back to base arranging their ride home.

  “Gatling. Get smoke ready. I don’t want those birds to miss us,” Ben looked up to the roof where Annie was sitting with a pair of binoculars. “Any trouble coming our way, Annie?”

  “There are a couple of individuals wondering around, but nothing to worry about yet,” Annie replied.

  “Good. Let’s get back home and get these people safe.”

  TWO

  The helicopters glided down to the landing pads with only a slight bump on touchdown. The new pilots were learning quickly, of course, the number of hours they spent flying missions a day helped their experience levels grow quickly.

  Ben’s team jumped out of the birds and helped the family clear the helicopter pads. A medical team was waiting to take the family in for evaluation, as was protocol. They had to make sure that no one in the group had been bitten. Also, many of the individuals that were rescued from infected zones were suffering from malnutrition or dehydration. At the base, they would be given all the medical care that they needed and then assigned a new living space within a clear zone where they would live until they needed to evacuate or all the Infected were eliminated and they could move back home. The latter being less likely.

  Once the family was set and being carted off the landing pad, Ben grabbed his gear and began to follow his team as they made their way back the barracks. He felt a hand on his shoulder, turned and found Standing Bear looking at him.

  “You fought bravely, Kemos
abe,” said Michael ‘Standing Bear’ Eastman in his best stereotypical Native American voice.

  “Thanks.” Ben said with a smile as he rolled his eyes. He hated it when he was called Kemosabe just about as much as when Michael was called Tanto, but hearing Michael do his Indian impression always made him laugh. He turned to walk, but Michael stopped him, turning him so that they were facing one another again. “What?”

  “But that was stupid,” said Michael in his normal voice.

  “What was stupid?” Ben asked having heard Michael accuse him of this before.

  “You know what I’m talking about! Walking toward the horde? What were you thinking?” Michael poked Ben in the chest.

  “I was thinking about getting the job done.” Ben fired back. “You and Gatlin were reloading and we didn’t have time to stop firing, so I took matters into my own hands. Besides, there was only one left.”

  “But you didn’t have to walk towards it,” Michael poked him in the chest. “We were covered. You know that. Even Annie told you that she would have been able to take out that last one if you hadn’t walked in front of her shot.”

  “Why do you feel it’s necessary to harass me after every mission like a mother hen, Michael?” Ben eyed him up even though Michael had a slight height advantage.

  “I have been charged with protecting you.”

  “Oh, don’t start that crap again!” interjected Ben.

  “But you continue to make it difficult by putting yourself in harm’s way more than is necessary.”

  Just then a jeep with two very serious looking MPs pulled up. The soldier in the passenger seat jumped out as if he was on a spring just as the jeep came to a stop.

  “Lieutenant Hassinger?” The MP asked in a deep serious monotone voice.

  “That’s me.” Lieutenant turned to face the MP.

  “Please come with us, Sir.”

  “Have I done something wrong?”

  “Your presence is urgently requested. I’m here to take you directly to the briefing room, Sir.” His tone did not change.