by Jack Wallen
“This device now controls your fate, Mr. Burgess, in the same way it held sway over our good friend, Commander Leamy.”
The upraised arm pointed toward Sam, adept fingers flipped a lever and depressed a button. Sam’s hand shot to his own neck and pulled away a small cartridge.
“I have released Sam from the imprisonment that now controls your destiny, John Burgess. You see that device in your neck contains just enough of your Mengele Virus to fully infect a small whale – you. With this remote I can activate the device which will inject the virus.” The tall, well-dressed man slowly walked up to Burgess, who was still on his knees. “I want you to know, I have a very itchy trigger finger and I do so want you dead; but while I am a vengeful God, I am also a fair God. So, instead of injecting you right away, I am going to keep you around, just in case there is something we need from you. But you can rest assured, as soon as you are no longer of any use, your life is over.”
Before Burgess could utter a word, a gunshot pierced the air and Burgess collapsed to the ground – a hole in the back of his head.
“That was for Jacob,” Bethany said before walking off.
And with that single gunshot, the tides of war shifted. The woman who had been the target of The Zero Day Collective, hoping to birth the first child born immune to the infection, had just cocked the hammer of the ‘fuck you’ gun and shot them square in the face.
Bethany Nitshimi was alive and well and ready to retake the world from corruption, from chaos, from the undead.
Chapter 34
Undisclosed location
July 4, 2015
“Nooooo! Oh God! It hurts! Nooo!”
“It’s okay Bethany. You’re doing fine. Now, just one more push and we’ll have it.”
“Please… I can’t.”
“Too late now. Push!”
“Ahhhhh!”
“Bethany! Oh, sweet baby…”
“Danielle, what is it?”
“It’s a boy.”
Chapter 35
Undisclosed location
July 4, 2015
I wasn’t even remotely surprised that Bethany named her new baby after his father. She was originally going to go with ‘Jacob Nitshimi’, but she decided there needed to be a Jacob Plummer back in the world. And so Jacob Nitshimi Plummer was brought into this desolate, half-alive world on July the Fourth. The irony of her birthing her son on that particular day escaped none of us. America’s Independence Day.
Fate played yet another dirty, cruel joke on the human race.
Regardless, Jacob was healthy… very healthy. In fact, it was quite impressive how healthy the baby was, considering to what the mother had been subjected. The experimental drugs, the lack of food and water, sleep deprivation, shock – and yet, there was this little bundle of miracle, whose mother helped save a planet from extinction and whose father wrote what some considered to be the Bible for the new world order. To many, Jacob Plummer was the new Jesus and Jacob Nitshimi Plummer, the Second Coming. Who knew exactly what the future would hold for this miracle baby.
I only hoped there was a future for him to hold.
In the meantime, we’d tucked ourselves away, deep within the recesses of the Great God U.S.A. No one would ever find us and that was exactly how it must be – at least for the time being.
We had no idea if The Zero Day Collective still existed, so we couldn’t take any chances. One wrong move and The ZDC would have us again – only this time there would be no inside help, no escape. If they did manage to get their hands on Bethany, baby Jacob, and the cure it would officially be ‘game over’ for the human race. That was not the endgame we were playing for. In fact, our endgame played out quite differently. The intention we held was the complete dismantling of The ZDC – by whatever means – and the distribution of the cure.
There was still a chance we could succeed. Although our immediate goal had changed dramatically, there would come a time when The Collective would be brought down (if that zombie horde hadn’t already made short-shrift of them in the U.N. Building). I only hoped I was still alive to see it happen.
There was so much we had left to do. We managed to settle ourselves into a fairly remote, secure location, complete with homes, transportation, electricity, running water – most of the conveniences of a life we had, up until recently, taken for granted. One of the only downfalls of our situation was that supplies were hard to come by. Our base camp was remote enough that it required a significant enough trek to warrant the use of a car. Of course the very sound of a car brought about the chance the undead would eventually locate us. Noise was our enemy.
I knew I was kidding myself thinking this was it: That we’d manage to escape the rotten maw of the Moaners, Screamers, and Berzerkers for long. They would eventually find us. But until that time came, we had to continue living, and to continue living we had to have food.
“Sam, I need to speak with you.” I caught the commander just as I was exiting Bethany’s room.
“Is she okay?” Sam’s concern for Bethany was endearing.
“She’s fine and Jacob is sleeping. Walk with me.” I wanted to get a little distance from Bethany on the off-chance she woke and could overhear my words.
“I’m afraid we don’t have the supplies we need. I’m mostly concerned for the baby. We’ve all adjusted to rationing our food – our bodies have learned to subsist on less. That baby cannot withstand such drastic measures, and I’m afraid with the prolonged lack of sustenance Bethany has endured, she’s not going to produce enough breast milk for Jacob.” Even as the words spilled from my mouth I realized how desperate the situation was going to quickly get.
“What do you need me to do, Danielle?” Sam’s voice was strong, carrying that overly-masculine tone men get when they are called upon to protect and serve.
“We need food. And we need baby formula. I honestly don’t know how easy that is going to be to find around here.”
“I’ll take a couple of my men and find what we need.” Sam practically saluted me before he walked away.
There was something oddly comforting in having a few military types in the group. Yes, they each had their quirks, but when entropy decided it was time to play a rousing game of Red Rover with our lives, it was nice to know we had some fighters and trigger fingers on our team.
The shrill cry of Jacob could be heard through the door, followed by the comforting coos of a mother’s voice. God I wanted this all to return to normal… to know all of the sounds that begged to be heard in everyday circumstances would not always be painful reminders of what once was. It had been over nine months since the virus amplified and the world was taken down. The human race was still hanging on, but its grip was precarious and the fall deadly. To be honest, I was surprised we’d made it this far. I had to wonder how much more we had left in us.
Chapter 36
Undisclosed Location
July 6, 2015
The team Sam chose to make the run were those he always preferred: Sellers, Dirt Bag, and Dom. Ronald was always left behind, as he was the one soldier that stood the best chance of protecting the remaining living souls alone. Not only was Ronald one of the best marksmen the military had ever seen, he was also able to calculate, with frightening accuracy, the best possible path to victory faster than any other human Sam had the pleasure of working with. Ronald was creepy, but that was often the case with survivalists of his caliber.
Ronald stayed.
In the car, the usual suspects had their usual seats: Dom in shotgun, Sellers and Dirt Bag in the back.
“Piss off, Dirt Bag, I’m not going to hold your fucking hand.”
And, as expected, little had changed.
“Is it just me, or is this routine getting old?” Dom tossed the question like a flare floating in a darkening sky.
There was no answer. At least not immediately. No one seemed to want to make the obvious response of ‘Hell yes!’ The mere act of remaining alive now required the constant search for
food and that constant search required a level of run for your life no one cared to deal with. Survival had become a frustrating routine. But without that routine, life would cease.
Instead of answering Dom’s question, the occupants of the car paused to ponder both question and answer.
“A part of me wants to agree Dom,” Sam spoke first. “But the better half of me insists it beats the alternative.”
“And the fact that we have no other choice?”
Just before Sam could continue his reply to Dom’s question, a lone Screamer jumped the car and did its best to stop the metal beast from roaring past. The zombie hammered a meaty fist into the metal of the car’s hood in an attempt to silence the noisy engine. Unfortunately for the zombie, flesh and bone of fist gave way well before metal. Small chunks of zombie meat peppered the windshield. When the Screamer finally pulled up a pulpy mess on the end of its arm, Sam slammed on the breaks, tossing the beast to the street.
Dirt Bag took the opportunity to stick his hand out of the window and pump a single, silenced shot into the skull of the monster. The zombie dropped to the ground, motionless.
“That’s not good,” Sam’s thought accidentally escaped his brain.
“What’s not good?” Dom prodded.
Sam had hoped to avoid bringing up the subject all together, so as not to jinx their situation. Although not a superstitious man, he knew they needed every bit of help and luck they could manage.
“Haven’t you noticed how quiet it has been at our base camp? There hasn’t been a Moaner or Screamer for weeks. Why is that? And where did this guy come from? You know they don’t travel alone now.”
“So what, Sam, you think this guy was some sort of scout? You’re trippin’ man,” Dom defied the leader.
“How long has it been since you’ve seen one of those sons of bitches alone? They don’t survive going solo. That means we’re probably going to run into more of those bastards soon. They know where we are.” The last statement came out of Sam’s mouth and chilled the air around him.
Sam turned and gave his team a visual pat-down. “You think I’m wrong?”
“We think you’re crazy,” Sellers replied.
“And paranoid,” Dirt Bag chimed in, ominously.
They stared at one another, taking a mental inventory of the situation. Before another reply could be made the team discovered just how right Sam was.
“Oh shit!” Dom dropped the dread-bomb.
Sam followed Dom’s gaze to see what had the running back regressing into diapers. On the horizon were the shambling silhouettes of what looked like an entire army of the undead. There was no sound to fill the void – just the sight of hundreds of zombies slowly making their way toward Sam and company.
“Now who’s crazy?” Sam declared.
“Fuck!” Sellers proclaimed with her usual feminine grace. “What are we going to do?”
Sam’s brain dug deep into its military training, hoping to find a solution to this seemingly un-winnable situation. For some reason he found himself thinking of Captain James Tiberius Kirk and the Kobayashi Maru. Only there was no computer simulation here to reprogram.
“We can’t cheat,” Sam spoke under his breath.
“Sam!” Sellers yanked the leader from his fog with her voice and a smack to the head.
“We have to lead these things away from base camp.” No one could take a breath to reply before Sam punched the gas and pointed the car directly toward the marching horde.
“What are you doing, Sam?” Dom yelled.
The commander let the engine of the car do the talking as he revved the machine even faster. The dotted lines on the street bled together and the shambling army grew larger.
“Sam, what the fuck?” Sellers screeched.
Before the car slammed into the mass of meat sacks, the driver spun the wheel, hit the brakes, and punched the gas. The vehicle tore off in an attempt to circle the monsters. When they finally reached the edge of the horde, the car sped off to the back of the pack and the landscape was tossed into the ninth circle of Hell.
“Oh my God,” Sam’s voice seeped out slowly.
“Is that what I think – ” Dom spoke with a lump of fear caught in his throat.
Dragging behind the moaning army, strung up in rope, chain, and wire were living humans. Some of the captives cried out when the car rolled to a stop, their hands reaching upward and outward. A few of the bodies were obviously dead, their heads cracked open and emptied of cargo. Some of the living barely held onto life.
“We have to help them,” Sellers wept.
“How? There’s way too many zombies and we didn’t pack nearly enough ammo for this fight,” Dirt Bag replied.
“Forget about them – there’s nothing we can do. Besides, we have a far more pressing issue. That undead army is heading straight for our camp. If we let them continue on, Bethany, Danielle, and Jacob will wind up caught in that human trolling net.” Sam was plotting as he spoke. “We’re going to make those sick fucks change course.”
The horde marched on, completely unaware of the enemy scheming against them some hundred yards away.
“What are they doing with those humans?” Dom finally addressed the elephant in the car.
Not one passenger wanted to venture a guess. Either fear or ignorance sealed up their mouths. The driver, on the other hand, was not afraid of the truth.
“Food. Seems like they’re just dragging their lunch to work.” Sam’s reply had at least one member of the four-man army ready to wretch.
“This can’t be real.” The NFL stud had his hand on the door handle, ready to open it so he could toss his lunch anywhere but at his feet.
Sam knew the dragging zombie snacks were far from the most frightening aspect of the scene. Much worse was the small army of Moaners and Screamers seemed to work together. The human lunch box was just another sign that some sort of extra link in the evolutionary chain had been added. These zombies were thinking, planning.
“We need to make some noise. Let those sick fucks know there are other, fresher morsels to be had.”
“Flash ‘em your tits, Sellers.” Dirt Bag offered a lecherous grin.
“How’s about I show your teeth my fist?” Sellers reacted.
The commander revved the car engine a little too high and a little too long, threatening to toss a piston through the block. The noise did the trick. The zombie-stomping brigade came to a halt and focused its attention on the car. Without so much as a moan or a scream, the undead unit kicked up a dust cloud as it began to advance on Sam and company.
“Sam!” Dom’s voice was as much a declaration of fear as it was a ‘heads up’.
The leader didn’t flinch, didn’t so much as offer a sound or word of explanation; he just sat, hands glued to the wheel, eyes on the deadly parade coming closer and closer.
“Sam, seriously!” Sellers added her own concern.
Everyone but Sam announced how their sanity was becoming unraveled as the undead continued marching their way.
The car revved.
The zombies marched.
Sam remained steely-eyed and white-knuckled as the rotting putrescence of the undead rank and file grew close enough to smell and taste. Finally, without warning, Sam dropped the car into drive, punched the pedal, and sped the car in the opposite direction of the camp. His gambit paid off. The zombie contingent gave chase, the Screamers nearly keeping pace with the car and the Moaners doing their best to meander along. Sam let off the on the gas when it seemed too much distance separated them. The dread-pack had to remain interested enough in the fresh meat to continue playing the game of zombie tag. Sam’s plan was working to perfection.
“Sam, how far are we leading them away?” Dirt Bag questioned.
“We’re taking those bastards into the next town where we can waste the fuckers and find provisions in one mother fucking fell swoop,” Sam spoke quickly, keeping the majority of his attention between the road ahead and the horde behind.
“You do remember that we’re a little short on ammo for this group of ghouls, eh Sam?” Sellers dropped a bit of reality into the mix.
“Then we’ll have to get creative. That’s what we do best, after all.” Sam punctuated his statement with another punch to the accelerator. The horde was dangerously close, but Sam continued to keep the upper hand.
The closest town turned out to be a godsend. Although Sam would have preferred a smaller location, to keep things simple, the town wound up a city – with every possible option they could imagine for killing a pack of zombies and finding supplies.
The car pulled up to an intersection and stopped so Sam could consider which direction would offer solutions to both issues. It didn’t take long to see a jumbo-sized grocery store just a few blocks from where the car was parked. Across the street from that gastronomical Mecca lay a perfectly placed warehouse just waiting to confine the approaching undead army.
“All we have to do is lure them into that building,” Sam started.
“And blow the fucker up,” Dirt Bag finished with a menacing giggle.
As much as Sam disliked pyrotechnics, he knew Dirt Bag was right. Ideally they would take care of the situation with as little noise as possible, but at the moment, offing as many zombies at one time took precedence over discretion.
Sam pulled the car next to the warehouse and gave Dirt Bag and Sellers the go-ahead to rig the building to blow. The command delighted the duo. Any chance to blow things up…
“Dom, you’re with me. While they prepare the trap, we are going to do a bit of shopping.”
Chapter 37
Undisclosed location
July 6, 2015
“You’ve got to keep that baby quiet,” Ronald spoke anxiously.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t just look at an infant and tell it the fucking zombies might hear it and come swallow its little brains!”
