EVAC : Zombie Apocalypse

by D G Leigh

  William ready on the door release. Redundant driver JJ put Leslie's shotgun to proper use. Jabbed the 12-gauge through gun loops cut into the side of the bus. Blasted zombies at the rear of the restaurant creating pockets of space that Leslie could run through. Eugene slowed to a crawl as he drove past. All eyes focus on the exit, expecting Leslie to come bounding out. James restrain himself from vomiting when he saw a developing plant consuming the remains of a body.

  Nothing. “Where is he?” Jo aired.

  “Your friend's cut off. Zaks inside.” That's the call-sign slang army grunts christened the infected, Zaks. Eugene gave the horn a final toot. Reforming packs of zombies closed in around the bus. Fingernails scratched at the metal. Eugene increased pressure on the accelerator pedal. “He got us clear.”

  Jo felt the surge of speed. The vehicle leaving. “Wait! We can't abandon him! We've got to go in and help.”

  All turn away, silent, nobody willing to risk their lives.

  “When is Mr Leslie coming back?” Afraid Susan tucked herself under the seats.

  A single dull thud followed by a roll landed on the corner of the battle-bus' rear roof panel. A yellow bucket with two holes bounced on the roadside. Leslie leapt at the last possible moment almost sliding off the the top completely. His right leg dangled down over the side. A zombie made a play for it.

  “Get him in. Get him in quick.” Jo cried. Too short to reach the overhead crash escape hatch. Placed one foot on either end seat and stood up.

  “Not a chance.” James having none of this. Pulled her down. “He could be one of them.”

  Oliver asserted himself. His bulk filled the aisle. Easily reached the latch. “He's not one of them! He's a damn hero.”

  William cocked his gun. “The hero stays on the roof until I say so.”

  Behind them Mel's diner spectacularly exploded. For the first time since zero-day other colours other than red lit the area. A huge raging blue-gas fireball rolled up into the sky setting ablaze any lengths of bamboo that it touched. Other stems bent away from the roasting to save themselves. Zombies that weren't knocked over by the blast, some on fire, pursued the church courtesy vehicle as it vanished over the crest.

  Susan imitated Leslie's military salute. “Man down.” She understood what that blast meant.

  --- Four ---

  “So Professor do you have any updated theories on this red pestilence?” Jo dusted herself off after being manhandled by James. Looked to pick a fight.

  William holstered his Colt. Gave his opinion first. A single line explanation. His voice reverberated the magnitude of his words. “We're being punished by the Creator.”

  James shook his head, he'd never been a religious man. Fairly tales inverted to control the population. Be good, obey the church. Pay your taxes and you shall be rewarded after death (neat trick), delivered unto the promised land. Go against His will as relayed by the Eminent's representatives and be codenamed to Hell, forsaken to suffer for eternity. Had to be mindful of his language or risk being thrown off the bus.

  “Before we evacuated the studio reports suggested CDC traced the plague's patient zero. Under a week ago a deckhand serving onboard a research vessel.” The last three days a whirlwind of mayhem, tried to recall all the information. “Le Surît. The ship's physician believed it to be an unusual bout of cabin fever, nothing more. No risk to public health. Filed his report.”

  Jo couldn't believe what she was hearing. “Cabin fever from a seasoned sailor my ass?”

  Professor Osborne agreed. “Whilst under observation the patient bit another crew member. The symptoms transferred over almost instantaneously. Both aggressive towards their shipmates but not to each other? A highly volatile contagion that has little or no incubation period. A rare strain of rabies brought onboard by an infected rodent. Requested WHO assistance. A petty officer raised the Yellow Jack, placed the ship under quarantine. After that all communication lost.”

  “The algae.”

  “The red weed, honeycomb or bamboo whatever stage it's in comes from the ocean, underneath actually. Scientists from around the world surmised the possibility that an interior reservoir of water three times the combined volume of our surface oceans exists encrusted in rock called ringwoodite buried in the Earth's core. Also known as the Beijing Anomaly. Le Surît assigned to Challenger Deep, Marianas Trench's deepest point, for experimentation.”

  “Three times! That explains why there's so much of the f**king stuff.” Jo knew where to place her angry. “They must've done something to release the weed in the first place. Drilled down too far?” She had another burning question. “Did the nuclear detonation have any effect on the algae?” Was it worth the toll?

  “Australia had a similar idea. Napalmed a huge woodland region infested with honeycomb cacti. The fire cleared the whole area including outer reaches of competing vegetation. Within ten minutes fresh shoots rose from the still burning forest floor. No, our bomb did diddly-squat. In fact the complete opposite.”

  “Fire-mediated serotiny.” The truth made Jo ill. “The dispersal of seeds due to combustion.” She'd paid attention in class.

  “Thanks to Uncle Sam billions of algae spores are now out of reach soaring on jet streams. Able to deposited themselves anywhere on the planet. Those people that had a slim chance hundreds of miles from a coastline, time to prepare, not any more. A storm is coming! It's going to rain death.” James slumped on a chair. “I'd always thought we'd wipe ourselves out by nuclear war. Never thought by just one missile though.”

  --- Five ---

  Eugene continued driving. Urban streets filled with wreckage. Modern cars that'd succumbed to the EMP blast rolled to a dead stop, abandoned. Citizen's then attempted to flee on foot. Carried what they could. Piles of belongings dropped as zombies closed in. Laying on the ground next to last week's garbage jewellery and other once valuable items.

  The last two kilometres took the longest. The private road entwined with red foliage. Eugene constantly assessing the best route to forge. Fitted with knobbly off-road tires Stanswick's congregation understood that when this vehicle was summoned the road network would definitely be congested. This allowed them freedom of movement, as much as a coach could have traversing uneven countryside. Time consuming having to sometimes reverse and try another path. Couldn't afford to get stuck. Outside toxic darts poised to launch. Carefully Eugene traversed his way uphill through an obstacle course of Atlas sized bamboo trunks. Easy for the bus to slip then wedge itself. The low transmission gearbox gave him some moderate control.

  Patrons of Saint Augustine's had already driven here on Zero-day's first morning. Knew the drill. Vacated their homes within ten minutes. Many avoided living in highly populated areas, harder to escape. The battle-bus build for those caught in the city during judgement day.

  The group didn't spot any more survivors. The number of zombies rapidly deceased. No more drones to add to their ranks this far from civilization. Hectares of sugar plantations and forest reserve.

  Jo went to the rear of the bus. Precariously balanced herself on an empty seat. Tapped on the ceiling. Leslie responded with the same number of beats. “He hasn't turned. It's been over an hour.”

  “No entrada.” Consuela shouted. “No entrada. Vi a un zombi usar una llave para abrir una puerta. Son muy inteligente.” Worriedly pointed at the roof. “No entrada.”

  “Señorita calmarse está bien.” JJ fluent in Spanish pacified her. “She saw a zombie open a door with a key, they're smart. Our hero could be mimicking, a trick.”

  “It's just a plant!” Jo disagreed.

  “Is it?” James wasn't so sure any more. “We all saw the bamboo bend away from the diner's inferno. That showed reasoning power. I'm started to believe it wanted us to attack it. The more powerful arsenal the better.”

  Schoolboy Akamu raised his hand to speak. “The mimosa pudica plant closes its leaves when an animal tries to eat them. It's a living thing but it isn't intelligent.” Normal fourth grader's e
ducation.

  From her elevated position Jo glanced at their tyre tracks trailing behind them. Crushed sugar cane flatted in their direction of travel. “If it's just a self preservation instinct then we've got nothing to worry about, nothing to worry about in the sense that these creatures now rule our cities. If on the other hand Professor Smarty-Pants hypothesis is correct, its intelligent, then we'd better prepare for war because they're coming.”

  --- Six ---

  After its queasy pinball style journey the battle-bus eventually drove into an excavated limestone cave. Dug out by the US Navy over half a century ago. William gave everybody a brief history lesson. “They used this lower flank to safely store equipment from Japanese bombing raids.” Natural light failed to penetrate beyond the entrance. Extra mounted bull bars headlamps illuminated the incredible subterranean sanctuary. Emerged from the dual lane squat tunnel into an enormous lit cavern. A wave of relief flowed over the passengers.

  “Power's back working again.” Jo wasn't expecting that.

  “No, those are our diesel generators.”

  “Thought your community lived in harmony with Mother Nature?” Jo studied William for any signs of deception. He'd already shown willingness to leave Leslie exposed outside without remorse for another human being's life.

  William didn't like Jo's tone. Perhaps a spell also riding on the roof would reel back her sharp tongue? “We're custodians for the navy's mothballed base. Drain and refill the water tanks. Each cycle takes about two months to complete. Maintain the plumbing. Scrub the ventilators. Keep the pilot light burning in case G.I Joe decides to return home. Far too expensive for the government to strip out all the equipment, not worth top dollar as salvage either. Most of the lab tech and computer data rooms date back to the cold war era. Best sit tight with the lid on. Wait for WW3. The entire complex has electricity. There's enough stores and food in the freezers to last us years.”

  “Looks like everybody's gone to the mall!” Jo moved forward to the front as the coach neared its destination.

  Church members vehicles neatly parked in rows. Sixty plus cars, trucks and SUVs. The battle-bus came to a halt next to the oversized loading dock. Leslie slid down off the roof. The fire-blanket riddled with dots, stem darts dissolve shortly after impact. Stood to one side with his hands raised didn't want to be shot by William's guerrillaitarized choirboys. Susan and Jo didn't wait for the all clear before rushing up to him. All three embraced while targeted by the Preacher's firing squad.

  “Bet you didn't know I could surf buses did you?” Leslie straighten his lapel.

  “When this is all over paddlepuss I'll take you out on the real waves.”

  Oliver the only other passenger to approach Leslie. Thanked him for distracting the zombies. “Nice moves my man.” The baseball player's handshake strong.

  “I know you?” Leslie searched to place the face. “You're famous aren't you?”

  Oliver pretended to hit a baseball, made a popping sound. “I was. Don't think any of that matters now.”

  The rest alighted. Eyes watched every shadow. Ears detected the slightest echo. JJ released the underneath luggage compartments. Weighty bags of equipment stencilled US ARMY EOD. The dock's shutters rolled up electrically from inside. Warning klaxon sounded that the underground facility was no longer in lockdown.

  Over one hundred and thirty survivors housed themselves deeper inside the complex. Twenty of Stanswick's loyal disciples jumped down to form a human chain. Whisked the packages away. Nobody wanted to be exposed longer than necessary. The overwhelming difference between William's congregation and the stragglers he'd picked up were the mountain community looked well rested, clean and organized. Boarded up their windows years ago rather that improvised moment to moment on the fly.

  “Shouldn't we block the entrance to the garage with the bus?” James nervously played with his hands, impatient. “I mean we're all here now.”

  “No need.” JJ left battle-bus' keys dangling in the transmission. “If the biters get this far then there's simply no other place for us go to!”

  “The women and children are welcome here.” William separated Oliver, James, Eugene and Leslie. “I require your assistance before we can accept you into our fold.” His smile was neither sympathetic or welcoming. Finally about to reveal the real reasons behind his good Samaritan act.

  --- Seven ---

  “Our attempts to cleanse the Devil's blight from our pasture were unsuccessful. Unaware of the spawn's tridents. The culling party became disillusioned. We managed to seal the tunnel in time but we lost our place of worship.”

  “Disillusioned? You mean Zaks, right?” Eugene wished people would just come out and say what the bloody things really were.

  “I prefer the term disillusioned.” William softly interjected.

  “Called them what you want I don't give a two hoots!” James far from happy with this latest revelation. “Are they contained?”

  “They can't get in. They're not even trying.”

  Leslie couldn't see a problem. “You weren't dependant on the farm for survival. So remain inside the bunker? Put a few crucifixes up, you'll feel right at home.”

  William steepled his hands together, kept his frustration in check. “This section is merely an administration block and depot. It could easily be made habitable but the rest of our families are over at the main compound.”

  “Let me guess.” Leslie already knew the answer. “Through the disillusioned.”

  “Yes.” Soothed his tortured brow. “The Lord sets before us many challenges, trails of worthiness. We can't bring ourselves to do what needs to be done. You understand? Those are our loved ones.” Unzipped the bags that Eugene had requisitioned. “These should protect you from tridents and bites.” Blast suits worn by EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal) specialists. “We have three.”

  Leslie, James, Eugene and Oliver had a choice to make.

  “So compliance is acceptance? Or what? You'll send us out into the wilderness for forty days?” James losing his mind.

  Eugene stepped forward before James had finish insulting the Reverend's religion. “It's my duty to go.” Their first volunteer.

  During his exceptional career Oliver brought thousands of families together. Fans enjoyed stadium hotdogs whilst spectating from high up in the stalls. Nothing came close to the crowd's exhilarating roar whenever his swing connected with the sweet spot, sending the ball far over the outfield. Here's another chance for a taste of glory. “Count me in.” Thumped his chest. Their second volunteer.

  “I'm not going out there.” James still ranting. “You can't make me.”

  “I'll go.” Leslie's conformation went unheard as James shouted. Stepped forward. “I'll go.” He repeated.

  “Good idea!” James rallied for supporters. “There's your three.”

  --- Seven ---

  Before suiting up Leslie took a brief moment alone with Jo among the warehouse crates away from prying eyes.

  Undid the lower buttons of his shirt. “Take this.” Stealthy passed Wynedecker's police issued Beretta over to Jo. The only thing on his mind, her and Susan's safety.

  Disappointed Jo expected something intimate. “Thought you brought me over here for another reason.” Flashed a beatific smile.

  Leslie busy inspecting the weapon. “I hid it within Susan's colouring box but the Reverend didn't take any of our supplies. Retrieved it when I went back into Mel's to free-up the bus.”

  Jo wasn't listening. Watched his face intently then pounced. Kissed him furiously. Stopping him from talking as their lips merge. The pair had no need for words just each others touch.

  --- Eight ---

  Science is the language applied to explain why. The word God used to fills in the blanks. Gyllenhaal a man surprisingly of both informed the volunteers what he believed. Plenty of time, no rush, the bomb suits restricted speed of movement anyway. The lava tunnel accommodated traffic four abreast. “The nodules don't extend past eight feet. The highe
r funnels are the loaded ones. The rest as far as I can tell are feeders. They're safe to touch unlike the honeycomb shrub.”

  “Shame, we could've brought James after all!” Oliver remarked with mock enthusiasm.

  “Also works if you're drunk.” An experience Leslie didn't what to go through again.

  Sinfully Gyllenhaal lowered his eyes. “We're only allowed a solitary drink at communion.”

  Overhearing William carried on the briefing. “Once you've cured the.....afflicted, lob off the trident launchers so we can safely proceed with purification.”

  “Cured the afflicted?” Eugene checked he'd heard correctly. “We'll neutralize Zaks the old fashion way. What weapons do you have?” Efficiently trained with the most common forms of ordnance. Eyed up the choirboys carbines.