Zombie Civilization: Genesis (Zombie Civilization Saga)

by Steven Ehrman

  Zombie Civilization: Genesis

  Steven Ehrman

  Copyright © 2012 Steven Ehrman

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1490435484

  ISBN-13:978-1490435480

  DEDICATION

  To Jean as always.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Coming Soon

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Most gracious thanks to all the monsters hiding under my bed and in my closet when I was a child. All of you inspired this series of books.

  Chapter One

  I sat down and watched the water flow down the river. Jude was beside me. Hell, Jude was always beside me I thought. I had met Jude in Middle School and even though Jude was a year older he was on the small and skinny side. I had become friends with him because Jude was a nice guy and he so obviously looked up to me. He was always quick with “Billy’s right”. It was kind of a joke. The other guys on the trip were all friends from school days. I thought it was really cool that we were all still so tight, even after graduating high school. Harley was the noisy one and always had been. I could hear him crashing through the underbrush right now. With Harley, a straight line was the quickest path, and if he had to knock over a tree, or a car, or a house he would. Steve was a little downstream and appeared to be sleeping. We had all had a few drinks last night and, as usual, Steve had the lion’s share. It was costing him today. Holland was just around the bend of the stream probably casting his brains out. I had come for the company of my friends and the solitude from society, but Holland and the rest of the guys were all serious hunters and fishermen. I just liked to wet a line, and maybe take a buck once a year. It was such a nice fall day I just wanted to make it last, since it was the last day of our trip. Then back to civilization and all the hustle and bustle that went with that. As I scanned the high country, I saw every color imaginable in the trees. This part of the state was beautiful I thought, and for a moment I wondered what it was like back in the day when men hunted just to survive. That and maybe hunting is just an instinct that men had. I smiled a bit thinking how heavily armed we were considering the most dangerous animal out here, outside of ourselves, was the odd bobcat.

  We had taken this trip into the southern Ohio Appalachian country for a three week hunting/fishing/spelunking/camping trip that coincided with Ohio’s gun season for deer. It was a short window when something other than primitive weapons were permitted. It had rained all the week before the trip, but the weather cleared just in time. We had arranged to park our vehicle about six miles away from our campsite at a farm. The owners were an older couple who charged us fifty bucks a week for the privilege. So much for rural charm I had thought. The farmer had driven a bargain with the hard flintiness of a veteran Yankee trader. From there we had hiked in carrying all our equipment. It came to almost seventy pounds per man, but we were going to need it as we were really roughing it. I made everybody leave cell phones and gadgets at the SUV. This outing was going to be just us. The rest of the world was not invited and since they weren’t invited there was no need for phones, tablets, or laptops. Steve had agreed reluctantly and argued in an emergency we might need to call for help, but Harley didn’t see how anyone could help us up there and the old man had settled the argument by telling us that there wouldn’t be any cell service this far out anyway. That was that. We gave the world the finger and took off.

  The hike in was pretty rugged and the guys were happy to finally pitch camp that first day. It got cold at night high up in the hills and after a day of sweating in the sun on the hike the night felt even colder. We as a group had spent the next day looking for a cavern that the old man back at the house had told us about. Around noon Harley let out a whoop and the group came running. Harley had found the cavern entrance and had explored it a little by the time we had all gathered at the entrance.

  Harley thought it would be a great idea if the group camped for the second night out actually inside the cavern. We had lanterns and it would be a good story to tell when we got back. Steve was nervous about cave-ins, but a couple of beers later and he was as ready as anyone else. We had hauled our equipment inside and discovered a large room about a hundred yards in and made that the base. We explored a little further in, but even Harley did not want to get lost so we passed the night telling stories until we fell asleep. We left one lantern on all night as there was some late worry about bats, but the night passed uneventfully. One night in the cavern was enough for everyone and we returned to the original camp site.

  The rest of the three weeks went by far too quickly. Everyone went hunting and fishing every day. We all marveled at how pristine the countryside was. Tall trees abundant with raccoons and possums filled the forest and they were perfect for the tree stands everyone had brought for deer hunting. The stream that ran nearby the camp was cold and clear. Holland thought that was probably a good place for fly fishing and he spent most of his time with hip waders on in the middle of the stream casting incessantly.

  That was too much work for me. Jude and I spent our mornings in the tree stands and afternoons bobber fishing and drowning worms. Harley could not be bothered with such sedentary activities and he cut out at daybreak every morning stalking the woods for prey. He returned most days after dusk tired and more than once covered in thistles, but no deer. No one was quite sure how Steve was spending his days. He usually got started late and then disappeared for most of the day. When asked he said he had found a good hunting spot and was keeping it to himself. He came back one day and appeared pretty spooked, but nobody could get anything out of him so we let it drop. He usually loved to fish so it was sort of a mystery why he wasn’t this trip.

  Chapter Two

  I had almost dozed off when Harley broke through the underbrush and lurched into the clear about 50 yards away. Harley was a big burly guy, with knotted muscles on his arms. He had a thick, full, black beard and when his hair began to thin out, he had shaved his head. I thought he looked like a grizzly bear with alopecia. That is to say, a heavily armed bear as Harley was carrying both a rifle and had a revolver hanging from a holster on his hip.

  “Hey there, mountain man,” I called, out shading my eyes against the sun. “I was starting to wonder if we were going to have to leave you behind.”

  Harley grinned in reply and ambled over to Jude and I.

  “You wouldn’t leave me behind would ya, buddy?” he said. “And I’ll tell ya, man, I don’t think I’d mind. Best three weeks I’ve ever spent.”

  Jude nodded his agreement. He was chewing on a blade of grass and looked to me. I gave an exaggerated yawn and pointed towards Steve.

  “If we had left you then you would have had company. I believe Rip over there has been asleep for the past hour.”

  “Well, he had a big time last night,” said Harley. “He’ll probably sleep the whole way home. If we can wake him at all. Maybe he passed through the seam.”

  Steve stirred and sat up. He began to reel in his line and waved over to the group. Steve was a little over middle height and slightly underweight. He gave the appearance of being near sighted beca
use he had a way of leaning in and peering at people when he talked. Harley called him Ichabod Crane behind his back.

  “Hey, Steve,” I yelled. “Get Holland and meet us back at the camp, ok?”

  Steve nodded, and continued to reel in his line. With that ,Jude, Harley, and I began the hike back to camp. The forest looked a bit gloomier today, I thought, but maybe I was just sad to see the trip come to an end. The camp was only a half mile or so away and as we approached, we began to hear noises coming from the campsite.

  “Did we leave out food?” asked Harley. “Ya know it attracts animals.”

  “We’re hunting. We want to attract animals don’t we?” I said with a grin.

  “Not nuisance animals. Ten to one it’s a raccoon munching on the leftover grilled fish we had last night,” said Jude.

  “Maybe,” said Harley. “But I’ll circle around to the left just for laughs and come in on the other side. Who knows what we’ll find.”

  With that, the burly hunter slid into the trees, this time very quietly, and vanished from view. Jude and I exchanged glances and continued straight ahead. As we came out of the heavy forest into a small clearing we saw the camp about two hundred yards away and nothing seemed to be disturbed. The noises had ceased and I began to wonder what had caused the commotion we had heard.

  As the two of us stood and took in the view we heard noises behind us.

  “Now what?” I muttered.

  As I turned, I could distinctly hear footsteps coming closer. I was beginning to feel claustrophobic, as though I was being hemmed in. What Jude was feeling was not apparent as he had a stoic expression on his face and he turned to look up at me. I motioned towards the footsteps and Jude silently unslung his rifle from his shoulder. I wished I was armed. The fishing pole I was carrying would do little good if I needed a weapon. The steps became closer and two men appeared dimly through the tree branches and underbrush. One of the figures was lurching towards us and dragging one foot behind him. The sight gave me the creeps and I had a sudden instinct to flee, but it was so silly, I thought, to be afraid in broad daylight.

  I heard Jude click the safety off of his gun and I felt a little more secure. I cursed under my breath at leaving my guns unattended in camp. We were so far out it hadn’t occurred to any of us that we would run into intruders. After all, we had seen no one in the three weeks in which we had been here, and yet someone was approaching. I was tempted again to make a run for the camp when I remembered the strange sounds we had heard from that direction. I felt that trapped feeling again. The figures were drawing nearer and I clenched my fists for any possible confrontation. The one dragging his foot behind him seemed especially menacing. The figures came within view.

  Jude realized it first and gave a short laugh. The two men approaching were Steve and Holland. I realized my heart was pounding and I tried to figure out how I could have forgotten that Steve and Holland would be behind us. Steve began to call out, but I put a finger to my lips and the two men joined Jude and I in silence.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Holland with a whisper. He was the ladies man of the group with blonde hair and a quick line of patter with women. He was a little over medium height and was well muscled. “Why are we doing the secret mission hand signals?”

  “We heard some noises coming from the camp and I think someone is rifling through our stuff. And speaking of rifles mine is in my tent.” I said.

  “Why are you limping?” Jude asked pointing at Steve.

  “I wrenched my ankle at the creek,” he replied. “I’m not really focused this morning.”

  “I’m not surprised since you tried to drink your weight last night,” I scolded in a quiet voice. “Anyway, now that we have a couple more guns let’s find out what’s going on at the camp. Harley is coming in from the other direction. He’s had plenty of time to get into position. Let’s go.”

  I was the unofficial leader of the group, and everyone obeyed without asking any more questions. As we headed towards the tents, which were now clearly visible, the camp appeared to be in some disarray and one of the tents had been knocked down. The group slowly readied their weapons as we drew closer. I was in the lead, in spite of being unarmed, with Holland directly behind me and Jude, as always, right at my shoulder. Steve was limping heavily and he brought up the rear.

  I suddenly realized that the forest was completely quiet. There were no insect calls, no crickets, no birds chirping, and the sounds of the stream had faded away. It was kind of an eerie silence it seemed to me. I wondered if I wasn’t letting my imagination run away with me. After all, I had somehow forgotten that Steve and Holland were behind us and turned them into monsters. As I was contemplating this, I sensed Jude stiffen at my shoulder. I turned towards him and he pointed towards one of the tents. It was my tent.

  There were sounds coming from it. It was unmistakable that someone, or some thing, was in there rooting through my gear. I noticed off to the far left a figure moving through the tree cover. It was almost certainly Harley, I thought. I hoped that he was in position by now, but even if he wasn’t I was tired of waiting. The waiting was what was causing my imagination to run wild and I began to feel a bit silly about losing my nerve. Guess this is what the old pioneers called “seeing the elephant”. At any rate, I dug up a dollop of courage and took a forceful step forward. As we approached the tent, the sounds emanating from within became louder.

  As I swung around towards the entrance to the tent, the sky became cloudy and the sun withdrew from view. It felt as though dusk was approaching, even though it was just coming up on noon. Jude, Holland and, I were now within feet of the tent. There was an unmistakable growling coming from it, yet it did not sound like an growl with which I was familiar. Whatever it was it wasn’t a raccoon, or a possum, or even a stray dog. Of that, I was certain. I felt that sense of dread returning, but I shook it off, took a deep breath, and stepped up to the tent. Jude leveled his gun, and with a nod at him, I threw the flap to the tent open.

  Chapter Three

  The inside of the tent was hidden in a murky darkness and seemed to be an opening to a deep cavern. The overcast sky revealed little of the contents of the tent, or any occupant. As my eyes began to adjust to the darkness, I heard a low growl that set the hairs on the back of my neck on end. Before I could react, I heard a rush and then it slammed into me. It was a black bear. In its rush to free itself from the canvas confines of the tent, it knocked me completely to the ground. Black bears were unusual for this area, but not unheard of. They were also not considered dangerous, unlike their grizzly cousins, unless backed into a corner, as we had just unwittingly done. I was stunned, but unhurt and as I was attempting to rise to my feet again, I heard Jude take a shot and curse under his breath.

  Steve had been bringing up the rear about twenty yards behind us when we flushed the bear out of my tent, because of his injured ankle. Upon seeing the bear shoot out of the tent, he made the worst possible decision. He threw his gun down and began running away from the bear. This, of course, aroused the predator instinct in the animal, and it began a pursuit of Steve back towards the woods. He looked to be heading for a lone tree that stood out some distance from the tree line. With a healthy ankle he might have made it, but with his injury it was no contest.

  Jude, having already missed once, was trying for another clear shot, but it was impossible from our angle to take a safe shot at the bear without endangering Steve. Jude, Holland, and I all began to sprint after the bear, who was in pursuit of Steve. It must have made for an absurd scene with three men chasing a bear, instead of the other way around, but we were in real fear for Steve’s life from the now enraged bear.

  The beast was closing on Steve with every stride and finally it reached out one clawed paw and swept our friend completely off his feet. The bear was immediately on top of Steve and his screams chilled my blood, but fear was no longer an option. We were going to save Steve if it cost us our own lives. I realized that I was screaming at the top of m
y voice. No words, just a primitive battle cry, I suppose. I had always heard that armies never went into battle silently and maybe that was true.

  We were covering ground quickly, yet Steve’s wounded cries told us we may have already been too late. Steve’s body was barely visible underneath the beast and I had nearly decided to risk a shot to save my friend when a shot rang out. Before the echo receded another shot cracked across the meadow. I was momentarily confused and then realized that the shot must have come from Harley. The trauma of the last minute or so had caused me to forget that Harley even existed.

  The bear rose off of Steve’s fallen body and jerked spasmodically. There was little doubt that at least one of Harley’s shots had found its target. The bear took several tentative, and awkward looking steps away from Steve and then crashed to the ground.

  Looking to my right I saw Harley emerge from the woods bursting through brush rather than finding an easier path. Sometimes I wondered if the guy had a tank in his family tree. He’d been the shooter all right. There was no doubt in my mind that he had saved Steve’s life. We all rapidly converged upon Steve’s lifeless form, fearing the worst.

  Holland, with more sense than the rest of us, put two more slugs into the bear. Better safe than sorry.

  “He’s dead,” stated Holland, with more calmness than I would have given him credit for. “He won’t be hurting anyone else again.”

  Upon that announcement, we all grimly turned our attention to Steve, or at least what was left of him. Steve was moaning quietly on the ground. He had instinctively curled up in a ball when the bear had pounced on him and it seemed to me that most of the damage must be on his back. Steve seemed to be in shock and had rolled over onto his back. I was afraid he was grinding dirt into his wounds. We were so far from help, I was scared to death that any serious wounds might be fatal without immediate medical aid. As I surveyed the scene and tried to calmly assemble a plan in my head, Harley knelt beside Steve and gently grasped his shoulders as if to turn him over so as to inspect the damage done to his back. Steve seemed to awake at Harley’s touched and screamed in pain.