Het Madden, A Zombie Perspective: Book One: WRATH 2012 (Volume 1)

by Calvin A. L. Miller II

  He went behind an overturned car and took out his radio. “Splash the tunnel, we are trapped or dead. Splash the tunnel... Splash the damn tunnel!!!”

  I knew there were tons of water on top of this tunnel. And I figured out what “Splash the tunnel” meant when I heard the explosions and saw the water coming in; a lot of water coming in.

  First it poured in from the ceiling, and as we walked toward the light it began to fill the tunnel until we were floating. Then it just fell on us. The tunnel was completely flooded and I started to panic. But I didn’t feel the need to breathe anymore.

  I was dead, wasn’t I...

  I pushed ahead, underwater, through cars, bodies, debris, until I got to the tunnel’s exit. I came up to another bridge and got to my feet on the pavement. There were about 10 more infected there. All wet. My new friends and I looked toward the city and noticed a barricade of barbed wire and military trucks with a guarded gate; hundreds of dead and injured infected lay all over the bridge. We walked up and all reached out our hands and moaned for help. We were sick and needed to be taken care of; cured. But the look on their faces.... They were horrified. Sickened.

  Then sirens went off and they started shooting us. Some of our group took shots to the head and went down fast. The rest of us hit the dirt. I told the others to wipe blood on their heads and play dead. We heard them yell “Got ‘em!” and we didn’t move.

  They loaded us up on a truck and headed toward the city. I saw so many bodies, lifeless by the road. Thousands of us. We arrived at what looked to be either a large hospital campus or some kind of military compound. I smelled burning flesh and felt the heat of a fire. That’s when I knew what they were doing here. They were burning the infected, cleansing society by fire, like at the ICC in Leesburg. Only here I heard the moans of living infected being thrown in the fires. They couldn’t have thrown us off the bridge; we could infect the sea and wash up to shore. This was an extermination process. There was no compassion for the diseased here either, and there was no cure.

  As we got well inside the compound I rolled off the truck and got to my feet. It looked like we were on a Navy base. I still had a pistol and a knife; soaked but surely operational. The other four followed. The soldiers weren’t watching us; they thought we were dead so we went unnoticed. We headed for the woods behind the main building. There were others like us there milling around.

  We had to do something. I decided we would wait until dark, and then head into the building. We were already past the guarded perimeter so it shouldn’t be hard. They were not very organized here. Many of them were dead or injured and we knew we could take advantage of this. As we headed to the building we killed and ate two guards. We also got two pistols and two rifles off them. We were armed and we wanted answers, and revenge.

  Well fed, we headed in. What we saw next changed my attitude toward all Healthies forever. We passed a room and inside was an infected man being attacked and eaten by dogs while soldiers cheered and filmed it. The man moaned and begged for mercy as he was attacked. We couldn’t help him and didn’t want to give up our position yet. We continued past more of these torture chambers. One was full of people who were still alive as they were thrown into furnaces. In one room, we saw a doctor working on a woman’s torso cut open on the operating table; she was screaming and under no anesthesia. We saw many of these operations but pressed on.

  We came upon what looked like a holding cell. At least 10 of our fellow citizens were being held. We shot the lock and they rushed us. They quickly realized we were the same as them and stood there staring at us waiting to follow, to imitate. We saw two large doors at the end of the hall and headed toward them; nearly 50 strong.

  The guards screamed as we burst through the doors. The horror in their eyes, they were scared to death. Then they saw we had guns and they tried to run. We caught two and had them lead us to whoever was in charge. No words, just a gun in the back and they knew. They vomited and cried like babies as we walked a large corridor and then into an office with an older officer that had to be the ranking man. I took small bites out of them as we walked in. They screamed but kept going.

  I stared at him and tried my best--I groaned out “Why are you killing people here?”

  His jaw fell opened and his cigar hit the floor.

  “You can talk.” Was all he said.

  He had no way out and we were between him and his desk. I was beginning to understand speech again.

  He kept screaming “You’re dead!” over and over as he stumbled around trying to avoid the rest of the group as they surrounded him. Dead? What was he saying? How was he going to kill all of us?

  He looked at me and said “Don’t you know what you are?”

  I knew exactly what we were.

  A shot rang out. One of his men shot him between the eyes and then killed himself.

  We turned and headed out of the office. We walked the entire building and rescued all of our people that we could--and killed every single guard, doctor, white coat, and uninfected person. We ate pieces of them and eventually left. On our way out I grabbed several sealed files and documents; all that I could carry. I hoped they held answers. These monsters were not covert members of a secret organization. These were not criminal employees of a billion dollar Drug Company. These were regular folks. Doctors, nurses, scientists, soldiers.... They looked at us--the diseased, the infected--as NOTHING. As GARBAGE. NOT WORTHY OF PITY. Well we didn’t want their God Damn pity. Whatever we were, it was definitely us against them now. There was no going back. Ever.

  That’s how this all began. That’s how I remember it anyway. I hate them for letting this happen, I hate them for not being sick like me, and I hate them for EXTERMINATING us by the thousands, maybe even millions... and I hate myself more than ever. I hate myself for what I have become. And the poor bastards that are worse off than me that stagger around like dead people? Maybe they are, but I AM NOT! I AM ALIVE. I think, therefore I AM, whether I have blood in my veins or not. And this isn’t over, not by any stretch. We are out here, we are organizing, we are armed and we are hungry. We are an enemy that doesn’t simply want to defeat you and take your things, your land, or your life. We want to EAT you alive, we have to.... We want answers from our Government. We want our lives back, the lives STOLEN from us. And you are going to give them to us, or we will take yours.

  I don’t know what we have become. But I know we are truly damned. I am Het Madden, the man in charge. Pleased to eat you. Heh heh...

  4

  Cursed Earth

  Because thou hast... eaten of the tree,

  whereof I commanded thee,

  that thou shouldst not eat,

  cursed is the earth in thy work:

  with labour and toil shalt thou eat thereof

  all the days of thy life.

  -Genesis 3:17

  Last count we are about 100 strong. We are cursed to wander, and damned to exist. Those of us who can carry and use weapons do just that. But for some reason that is a small percentage. Many can only stagger forward slowly. All of us can still think and read and plan, just at different speeds. I am constantly forced to help those worse off than I am re-learn even the basic motor skills. We as a whole are helpless, but for the most part, we are teachable. I have yet to find anyone close to being my equal, but many of my lieutenants are quite capable. I want answers and D.C. seems to be the best place to go, so I am headed home.

  Norfolk to D.C. is a long stretch, especially on foot, but we will get there. Sticking to the highway seems to be the best idea. Many of us still have electronic Government pass cards that should get us into quite a few unguarded doors. There doesn’t seem to be any organized resistance in the area, all the Healthies seem to be dead or hiding, or both. Remains of the infected are everywhere. Whether killed in a Frenzy or by Healthies, it’s hard to tell. Thousands litter the landscape, sometimes dead, sometimes torn apart and lingering.

  When we come upon Healthies we kill them and eat at least so
me of them whether we are hungry or not. A house, shopping mall, anyplace we think there are people, we will investigate. Interestingly, when one of us senses a Healthy we all seem to feel it before any one of us makes a sound. It is like a common consciousness in some ways. At first I try to rationalize it by telling myself that maybe we all smelled the Healthy at the same time and reacted, but this happens even when we are many yards apart.

  We trust no one that isn’t sick and many of us grow stronger each and every day while some weaken and literally fall apart. I seem to be gaining intelligence while others lose all faculties and trail off into the woods alone. I wish I knew what caused the difference in the way we react to the infection. I begin to look for answers in the files I took from the Navy base, but I read so slowly now. I still have trouble concentrating at times and can completely forget what I am doing, but I am also intense when necessary. Many of the files reference a virus that was discovered on a plane that came to the U.S. from Africa in early December 2012.

  It seems that some missionaries were helping care for a village that had an outbreak of a highly contagious flu-like virus. They worked with the people in a village near Darfur to take care of the sick and provide antibiotics and antivirals to them. They did what they could do and were called back by the church. They boarded a passenger plane in Zimbabwe that was full to capacity. It was delayed and sat on the runway for 8 hours, no one getting on or off.

  After the long uncomfortable wait, it took off. During the flight a small child who had been bitten “by something” began to show signs of the flu, including fever and vomiting. After an hour or two the child finally fell asleep. A few minutes later she awoke, went “mad”, and attacked and bit a flight attendant and two other passengers. The pilot and co-pilot radioed that there was a commotion on the plane and they locked themselves behind the sealed cockpit door. Then everything went quiet, but per airline quarantine and terrorist-evasion rules, they remained locked away and safe to fly the plane.

  They begged to land in Europe, Bermuda, anywhere--but were denied. They were forced to finish the trip to New York. When the plane finally landed, the pilots alone were healthy and behind the sealed cockpit door. Some passengers survived but were infected with this “flu” and were mad with fever. Others were not so lucky and showed signs of being severely bitten and even partially eaten. The missionaries were dead, as was the child. The pilots were checked and released and the sick were securely quarantined.

  The next day both pilots had killed their families and were missing. The sick people from the plane became less violent so they had been moved to less secure accommodations for observation. An entire wing of the hospital was overrun within 1 hour and the entire building was burned to the ground. The fire was set by the military. More information had begun to trickle in about what was being called “Super Rabies” from Africa and a decision was made to quarantine by fire. Many healthy people were actually killed in the process. Next, several airport personnel were found half eaten and a cab driver was found without a head. It spread out to the rest of the city from there.

  According to one document, the estimated infection rate had crossed 20% of New York’s population before local governments around the country were told the truth. And soon after that, it leaked to the internet and media--but by that time it was everywhere. It spanned out from New York to airports in Miami, Los Angeles, Washington, D.C., Seattle.... As I read this, the estimated infection of over half of the population of the United States is one week from today. Similar scenarios were reported in Europe and Asia. African casualties were much higher much earlier.

  There are still relatively uninfected areas in the country east of the Rockies and west of the Appalachians. In these strongholds, Marshall Law rules, and infected bodies, dead and alive, are burned immediately. They are simply eradicating us, not even trying to cure us. I look up and see a man sitting on the ground to my left.

  “I was responsible for creating the documents you are reading.” He says. “And I can see that there are many missing.”

  “Who are you?” I ask angrily.

  “Charles Darius. I was the Executive Officer for the Captain back at the Naval Base Hospital you, or we, sacked. I was bitten by a small child that was running loose on the grounds. I thought nothing of it but soon turned into what you see before you. By then I knew what we were doing to the infected so I headed for the woods on the base and hid out there with the others you came upon. I joined you in the killing and have followed you since.”

  “What is missing from these documents?” I ask.

  “There are a lot of people higher up in our government that truly believe that whole 2012 story. You know, the end of the world as we know it, planets aligning, raining blood, whatever.”

  “How high up?” I am interested now.

  “The highest. Billions of dollars were spent starting ten years previous to find out what, if any, of this stuff was true. I don’t’ know this for sure, but I had heard it was very much believed by some of the Free Masons. They started an offshoot group that spread throughout the Federal Government in the highest ranks. These people got to the point where they wanted this to happen, they thought it had to. And they were going to do what it took to help things along.”

  I ask “So did they cause this? Is this man made?”

  “That I don’t know for sure, but I would bet it is. This is all hearsay that I picked up in meetings and over drinks at the Officers Club. But I wonder and I am keeping my eyes open. You should, too, Madden. Something tells me there are answers and we deserve to know them.”

  “How do you know my name, Darius?”

  “I’ve always known your name, Madden. I’m surprised you still don’t recognize me. It will come in time.”

  The whole time I’ve been talking to him I don’t remember seeing him until just now. The way my mind is, that doesn’t surprise me, however, Darius is extremely well spoken for an infected man. I look up and he is gone. I look around, and nothing. I have trouble keeping my mind on the things he said. The pain to feed is strong and I can see we all feel it. We need to eat. We need to kill.

  In addition to being hungry there is the problem of the tunnel being flooded. I want to find answers and they can only be back in D.C. But how will we get back through a flooded tunnel? At that moment Darius is standing to my left again.

  “There is a bridge that can get you on the road to Richmond. That is where you should be heading. There are answers there Madden. The houses along the way are full of scared Healthies; that will be more than enough to feed us all. There is a neighborhood just past those trees and most of the surviving Healthies are at Norview High School. Not much protection, just scared and alone. Warm blood coursing through healthy veins. It’s probably a good idea to head there now, Madden. Take your people there now to feed on them.” The more I look at him the more familiar he looks.

  I know Darius. I know him well but can’t place him.

  “How do you know so much?” I scream, out of frustration over not being able to place him, and excitement about feeding.

  “I lived and worked here for years before doing some time at the Pentagon on a project.” He says.

  “I worked with you, didn’t I? In D.C.”

  “Yes Mr. Madden, we worked together. Now let’s get to that school.”

  We head in the direction Darius suggests. There are no street lights and it is a cloudy night so it’s hard to see. After walking a few miles we see the school at the end of the road.

  “That’s it Madden, that’s where the food is.”

  I can’t help but notice that Darius is very eager to get us to that school. I also begin to notice that he does not really look that infected. He did at first and smelled like the rest of us but he is sweating a lot. I no longer sweat, none of us do, which is odd in a way, but I didn’t feel hot so it seemed normal. But why does Darius sweat? He seems nervous as we get closer to the school. I can smell him now, his warm blood. He must have covered himself
in human remains, sewage, something to hide his scent. When we are all well inside the school grounds he shouts “Hit them!”

  It’s a trap! He tricked us. But if it is a trap why is nothing happening? He shouts again, but still nothing. Now the rest of my people are realizing Darius is not infected. He runs to the main door of the school.

  “Where are you?!?!? I have Madden, he’s right here, where are you?!?!?”

  Just then the doors swing open and troops file out onto the grass. Infected troops, recently infected from the looks. They grab Darius and begin to eat him.

  “No, I have Madden! No. no...” and he is done.

  There look to be quite a few troops, maybe 50 or so. I go up to each and make sure he is infected. They are welcome allies, although many look at their weapons mindlessly.

  But I’ll take ‘em...

  Darius told us where the bridge was and seemed to want us to head to Richmond very badly. I can’t help but think it could be another trap, but I also realize that the whole world is going to shit and Richmond is probably shit too. So that’s where we are heading; after we get some food.