by Jack Wallen
“You’re correct, Danielle. Bethany should remain tucked away in the attic. I don’t want to know what would happen if one of the zombies managed to get its nasty, rotting fingers on baby Jacob,” Sam confessed.
Although his confession was honest, it was made without knowing the full truth. Sam was just ‘manning up’ and protecting a mother and child. Little did he know he was protecting the future of our species.
Chapter 40
ZDC Headquarters
July 6, 2015
“Sir, we may have located our target. These images were transmitted from a squad in Pennsylvania, just before they were taken out.” The young ZDC officer handed a photo to his superior.
“We believe this to be Commander Leamy, and Sergeant Courtney Sellers.” The officer offered another photo.
“Where’s Nitshimi? These soldiers are worthless to us.”
“Sir, these are the soldiers that helped to free the target. I believe if we locate them, we will find Nitshimi close by.”
The superior stared at the images, images taken from cameras affixed to the heads of the zombie tracking scouts.
Undead Camera Obscura.
In such a short time everything had come undone. Just as it looked like The Zero Day Collective was about to succeed with the next phase of what was to be the Great Cleansing, it was all ripped asunder. The baby Jacob had been the final step in a very complex process. With the successful combination of human and amplified DNA, The Collective could finally create the necessary viral strain to lay waste to the walking dead. They would be heroes who would stand to profit from mankind’s suffering.
But when Bethany slipped out of their grasp, their only chance at stopping the continued plunge into the dark abyss was gone.
“Get that baby,” The superior stood to leave, but before he did so, he leaned over the desk, placing his hands on the glass top to make clear the severity of his words. “When you find them, I want Professor Michaels brought in alive. I plan to deliver to her a special flavor of pain and suffering.”
Not another word was spoken by the superior in the pressed linen suit and double-Windsor knotted tie. His overly shined, Italian leather, wing-tipped shoes carried him out of the office with an arrogant pride.
As soon as the younger officer was alone, he let out the tension that had infiltrated his system. Speaking to his superior, who was also a senior member of The Collective, always promised to raise the blood pressure and pulse to a near-fatal level.
The young man sat at his desk, allowing a calming stillness to overtake his body and nervous system. He knew his next step. He also knew he did not want to set that next step in motion. But there was no choice. Being a member of The ZDC held the only hope of a future among a landscape of hopelessness. Without The Collective, death was the only escape. But being a member also meant one other thing – the orders of the Elders were executed, or you were nothing more than Soylent Green for the undead.
Sheer terror urged his hand to take up the receiver and ring the officer charged with releasing the squads.
“We have been given orders to deploy all squads to the coordinates you should be seeing on your display.”
“Got ‘em. Wait, did you say ‘all squads’?”
Chapter 41
Undisclosed location
July 6, 2015
“I can’t hide up in this attic with my baby any longer. It’s too fucking hot. Until we can find the means to cool that room off, we aren’t going back up there.” Bethany shouted, veins in her neck near bursting.
I couldn’t stop the woman when she stormed by me, baby in arms, toward the attic stairs. She had a determination in her step that made me think she was planning on going toe-to-toe with Sam. But she was right. The sweltering heat would take that baby down as quickly as one of The Collective’s pet zombies.
When I arrived back in the main room of the house, I was surprised to find Sam and Bethany sitting at a table, having an actual discussion. No shouting. No beating of chests or accusations. Was it possible the situation had finally managed to filter out all but rational thought from the human condition? I had often wondered what mankind was capable of when stripped of all order. Most in my position postulated our species would quickly spiral into chaos. And although chaos was certainly the order the day, not all of mankind succumbed to its Herculean pull.
What I was bearing witness to was a good sign, a very good sign.
“We can’t just think only in the moment. We have to have a plan, one that includes a much larger picture.”
“I understand, Bethany, but if we don’t think in terms of surviving now, we won’t.”
Bethany countered first with a pause to gather her thoughts. “Sam, what I am saying is we have to think survival on a much larger scale. Larger than you, larger than me.”
“Sam,” I had to finally jump in. “Bethany is correct. If we confine our thinking to this small circle there is no hope of us making it through this alive.”
Sam’s hard glare clearly indicated he couldn’t wrap his mind around what I was saying. I had to translate this into terms he could grasp.
“We have two sides to this war – us and them. As we focus on our own, and only our own survival, the enemy continues to grow. Every moment we blind ourselves to the bigger picture, that enemy gains strength.” I paused to let what I had said sink in.
Sam pursed his lips and nodded his head. My explanation seemed to finally make its way into his center of rational thought. Thank God! I was beginning to think that last zombie did more than rattle Sam’s brain.
Sellers walked into the room, turned a chair around, straddled it, and flopped her arms on the table.
“So, what do you suggest we do?” An air of doubt crept out of Courtney.
“What I believe we should do, is put our enemy on the defensive. The last thing they would expect is an attack from us.” Bethany challenged the soldiers, her own strength and resolve taking everyone by surprise.
Before the conclave could continue strategizing the next move in World War Undead, Ronald walked in through the door. “Holy Mother of Skynard, did I miss some epic barbecue?”
Ronald stood in the doorway, a huge backpack over his shoulders, his arms spread out demanding attention. We all ignored the reference to the smoldering zombie meat surrounding the house.
Had the situation not been so dire, we all would have broken out in gales of laughter. Instead, everyone was simply relieved the man was still alive.
“Mission accomplished, Bethany.” A sinewy arm handed Bethany the pack. “You planning on setting up a recording studio or something?”
Bethany opened the bag and peered inside. “Something like that.”
“All right, boys and girls,” Sam stood and clapped his hands together. “We need to close up shop so we can get some rest. I’ll take first watch. Ronald, you’re next, followed by Sellers. Two-hour shifts. Anyone with a firearm, sleep with it by your side. Those without, sleep with someone packing by your side.”
The group stood to go their separate ways. I grabbed Bethany by the arm to hold her back. I had an agenda which must have been chiseled on my face.
“What’s wrong?” Bethany questioned as she gently rocked the sleeping baby Jacob in her arms. The moment might have been the only remaining fragment of humanity left. Everything had all come down to this one moment, the weight of the human race rested entirely on the shoulders of this mother and child. It was the Second Coming of the Virgin Mary and the Messiah. Only this time, should things go wrong, mankind could kiss its ass goodbye.
“Bethany, you understand your survival is our only hope. Jacob is the key to putting an end to the undead nightmare. But…” I paused, knowing the next piece of information would knock Bethany in the gut. “If the ZDC get their hands on Jacob, they will take him apart to make sure every last molecule of his gift is harvested for the second phase of the Great Cleansing.”
Instead of lashing out, Bethany silently pulled Jacob to her breas
ts and blinked. Tears filled her eyes and with each successive blink another drop rained down onto her reddening cheeks. She lowered herself into a chair, silently blinking and rocking. I waited for a reaction, any reaction, and when none came, I reached out my hand to comfort her. Bethany’s next move took me by surprise. Still without a word, the mother shook her head, denying any comfort.
It was all becoming so clear; she needed no comforting. In the moment of time we just shared, Bethany had hardened not only her heart, but her resolve and her strength. Some other will had just possessed the woman, a will that dared The Zero Day Collective to try and steal her baby.
Bethany stood, patted me on the shoulder, and walked away. There was so much more she needed to know, but I wasn’t about undermine the strength the mother had only just reclaimed by telling her that should The ZDC find her, she would not stand a chance. Let her have this moment. Let her build upon the momentum gathering in her gut.
Chapter 42
ZDC Headquarters
July 6, 2015
This was the moment The Zero Day Collective had been singularly focused upon for the last six months. They had allowed the baby to get away once, that mistake would not be repeated. A legion of the undead had been amassed and would be transported to ground zero – their only objective was to collect the mother, the child, and the traitor and return them.
The holy trinity remade, reborn, remixed.
A select few of the zombie ‘soldiers’ had the same cameras implanted on their skulls as did the first wave of scouts. The cameras would transmit real-time video back to techs at The ZDC and when their quarry was spotted, a low level EMP would be set off to temporarily block the noise within the moaners’ brains – rendering them slightly lucid and able to execute basic commands.
The commands were simple: Return Bethany, Jacob, and Professor Michaels to the drop ships for immediate return to The ZDC HQ. Naturally, the horde was unaware the living soldiers on the drop ships had explicit orders to execute all undead humans once the targets had been acquired.
It was all in the details.
The plan was brilliant in its simplicity, but had little margin for error. The ZDC was exhausting their resources and running out of options and time.
It didn’t help that zombies were driven by chaos in absolute form. Reining in the undead was no easy feat – even for a group with seemingly endless resources. What allowed them to corral the Moaners and Screams was a constant supply of live brains to feed upon.
Innocent men and women, chained inside the drop ship, the cargo door open. The sounds of the living voices quickly drew the undead army inside to dine on skull soup. As the doors to the metallic container closed, the pleas and horrific screams echoed off the walls. Once the hatch sealed, the sounds of doomsday were silenced.
With twenty ships filled and sealed, the fleet was ready to leave the base. It was estimated over two thousand undead soldiers were lifting off. The din of the monsters banging on the walls was barely audible over the whine of the engines.
The endgame was now. The Zero Day was about to finally come to fruition. The Great Cleansing was at hand. Order would soon be restored.
The overseer of the operation sent word to the engineers of the plan that the ships had departed. A quick check of all monitors confirmed video feed was streaming. Night vision had been switched on.
The soldiers were still hungry.
*
“You do understand the gravity of your situation, should this fail. Without that baby the operation cannot succeed and we will have failed.” The new leader of The ZDC stared across the room, her eyes locked on some other moment, her brain on a different trajectory.
“Yes ma’am, we are fully aware of the severity of the situation,” the underling replied, afraid the venomous woman would pull out a pistol and send a bullet through his brain just to make a point. She had been known to do so… and so much worse.
The words had all been spoken before; numerous times in fact. The recently adopted mantra of The ZDC was failure is death. The entirety of the Collective whispered the mantra as if it were a ghost story intended to frighten children into submitting to the whim and will of monster-angry parents. The halls of the new ZDC headquarters hummed with an unnatural, palpable tension. Members passed one another in the hallways, refusing to meet each other’s gaze for fear the seed of failure would find purchase on a conscience already stressed with the threat of death. Not one person, under the control of The ZDC, was immune. And as the transport ships left the hangar, any and all workers with a sliver of religious faith spoke a silent prayer.
Dear God in heaven…
Of course, those of the more pragmatic persuasion knew the Great God Chaos was more likely to impose its will than was any biblical God.
As a reminder of the critical nature of the mission, Control piped the streaming feed to every monitor in the building. Every pair of eyes was glued to the unfolding scene.
Our Father, who art…
Chapter 43
Undisclosed Location
July 7, 2015
I woke in a pool of my own cooling sweat. The threads of an impossible nightmare doing everything to pull me back into its Hellish grasp. Within the heart of the dark dream was baby Jacob clumsily walking down a deserted street. Each tenuous, infantile step grew less and less human, until the boy’s movements were violently spasmodic – as if bone could snap any moment. As soon as an arm shot forward, a leg would follow. The walking motion was robotic, but had no logic in its system. The baby was nothing more than a marionette and chaos its puppeteer.
Just as Jacob seemed to find a rhythm to his motion, a zombie appeared and took a bite from his milky-white skin. As soon as the chunk of flesh had been confiscated, the zombie would disappear, only to be replaced by another. This pattern continued on until there was nothing left but a herky-jerky skeleton that finally collapsed to the ground. The bones went up in flames and burned until they were nothing but ash. When an oven-hot wind arose, the ash was scattered. The second the last fleck of ash was gone, everything around began to rot. Trees, buildings, streets all gave way to a sudden, instant entropy. All that was left was my consciousness, trapped inside a body unaware that a foreign evolution had begun. My eyes turned a sour-milk white, my skin sickly translucent. The heart within my breast ceased to beat. The river of blood in my veins ran dry.
When the dreamscape finally paused, my stomach distended until my belly button threatened to pop out. Within seconds of that ridiculous growth, a red rain poured from between my legs. A shock of pain bolted through my spine, freezing my brain. As the pain reached its zenith, where it couldn’t possibly grow any worse, baby Jacob crawled from my loins. Dragging himself out of me, the infant pulled, stretched, and tore at the skin, cartilage, and muscle until he flopped down to the ground. Lying prone and vulnerable, Jacob let out cry and stood to once again perform his break-neck zombie walk.
The pattern wanted to repeat itself, promising to drive me into an abyss of insanity from which I would never escape.
I sat up, as the sweat evaporated and my pulse slowly returned to a near-normal pace. After flipping the sweat-covered pillow over, I finally managed to lay my head back down to hopefully fall back into slumber, avoiding the nightmarish dreamscape. Before my lungs could begin that deep inhalation that always brought on a perfect sleep, a distant thrumming hum danced through the glass of the windows. The sound mimicked a didgeridoo, only slowed down with a shifting pitch. The noise was haunting, but far from threatening. It was an easy assumption to make that the noise was being made by the foundation of the house or a strong wind blowing through a sign creaking on rusty hinges.
Very slowly the sound morphed into a chorus of deep hums, pitching up and down at random moments.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, my conscious decided it was a moment to be investigated. No further thought was necessary for me to exit the bed and the room. When I arrived at the entryway to the house, I was met by Sam, who was
about to open the front door.
“You hear it as well?” My question was met with nothing more than a nod.
Sam slowly pulled the door open slightly to allow a clearer, unobstructed path for the sound to reach our ears. The cause of the noise was obvious – only my brain refused to accept what I was hearing. When Sam’s eyes met mine, my mind met reality and I knew, without question, the sound was a mixture of moaning and screaming.
Zombies.
Sam opened the door wide enough to step outside. Against my better judgment, I followed him into the warm, summer night air.
“The noise seems to be coming from everywhere,” I added the all-too obvious conclusion.
“I don’t understand,” Sam muttered to himself as he turned three-hundred-and-sixty degrees. “With as much noise as we are hearing, there should be some signs of movement. I don’t see a damned thing.”
Leamy continued looking around as we were joined by Sellers and Ronald.
“What the fuck, Sam?” Sellers bitched.
“Courtney, I need you to climb to the top of the house and see if you can find out where the noise is coming from,” Sam commanded.
Without a complaint, Sellers was off to find her way to the roof.
“Hells Bells, Sam, there must be hundreds of them,” Ronald added his way-off estimate.
“Actually, more like thousands.” Hesitantly, I corrected the soldier.
Both Sam and Ronald turned to me as if to say ‘Prove it.’
“I know the sounds – intimately. I’ve been studying them long enough to know what they sound like in numbers. Besides, to make a continual noise, at such a high decidable level, would require significant numbers.” I had no proof. Without proof, or the means to reach any sort of scientific conclusion, I had to rely on my gut. So far my gut had been dead on.
