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Plague Z: Outbreak [A Zombie Apocalypse Novel]

Page 22

by Max Danzig


  With the poker at the ready, Steve took slow steps out the back door, searching the area for any walkers. There was the body of a man with his back to Steve, staggering toward the parked cars. He heard a murmur of sound coming from the front of the building. Trying to be as quiet as possible, Steve quick-stepped up behind the zombie and smashed in the back of his head with the poker. The creature fell to the ground with a muted thud.

  Steve checked the Mustang’s door, it was unlocked, and he was pleased to see the interior lights come on. He hoped the battery still had enough power to start the car. He’d only have one chance. The sound of the starting car would attract immediate attention of the mob of zombies at the front of the building. If it didn’t start, he’d have to run for the back door and get it closed and secured before they got him.

  He set the poker down on the passenger seat, then placed his finger over the start button for a second—then pressed it. The powerful engine roared to life. Its sound was so loud in the quiet of this dead world, it made Steve jump, “Holy shit.”

  He put the car in drive. When he looked up, there was a horde of zombies coming around the corner from the front of the community center. He sped out of the parking space heading directly for the densest part of the horde making the engine roar. The monsters converged in his direction. Steve cut to the left where there were fewer zombies. He hit the gas to skirt around the crowd but still smashed into two of the creatures.

  Although most of the zombies were emaciated and insubstantial, they were still solid and caused a lot of damage to the right side of car’s thin sheet metal. The hood crumpled and something was rubbing on the right front tire as he spun out of the parking lot and sped up the street. With the rising sun and the dissipating fog, his view of the road was better. There was steam coming out from under the crumpled hood. He knew the radiator was damaged, and he only had minutes before the car overheated and the engine seized.

  He couldn’t head back to the highway as he’d be left stranded and exposed. Instead he headed back into town to look for some place secure to hide, or find another vehicle.

  Then he remembered the State Trooper’s barracks fifteen miles up the highway. He’d never make it there, but he could make it to the Derry Police station across town.

  With steam pouring from the rumbling engine, and something grinding into the right tire, Steve deftly maneuvered the damaged Mustang around wrecked cars and dead bodies. He did his best to avoid approaching zombies, but it wasn’t easy with the steam pouring from under the damaged hood obstructing his vision. He weaved his way down Crystal Avenue, but saw a large blockage of crashed vehicles at the intersection on Folsom Road, where he needed to turn. Cutting through the gas station on the corner wasn’t an option. It was blocked with the burned wreckage of the station and the rusting hulks of several burned out cars.

  Steve made a quick left onto Laconia Avenue to avoid the blocked intersection, and as he did so the right front tire burst with an explosive pop. The front of the car sank on its rim, and slewed to the right, but Steve regained control of the car and straighten it out. The engine then made a high keening noise. As the car slowed to a crawl, the engine emitted a new noise like someone had tossed broken metal parts into running clothes dryer. The noise was horrendously loud in the quiet town. Hundreds of walkers in the area turned and headed for the sound.

  Steve fought the wheel as the Mustang ground to a halt at the corner of Laconia and Folsom. Smoke poured out from under the hood. He grabbed the poker and jumped out of the ruined car. The police station was across the street a hundred yards away, and zombies were moving towards him from almost every direction. Steve ran for his life.

  Chapter 52

  Arms pumping, holding the poker in his right fist, Steve ran across a car wash parking lot and up a grass median. There was a single zombie headed towards him from the police station parking lot. Without breaking stride he swung the poker and smashed the ghoul in the face as he ran by as if in a joust.

  He heard the body of the creature fall to the pavement and sensed other forms closing in behind him. Steve ran into the police parking lot.

  There was a sturdy eight-foot high, razor topped chain-link fence along the side of the building. It enclosed the area where the police cars were parked and a large maintenance building. If he could scale that fence without opening an artery, he knew he’d be safe. Steve yanked on the entrance gate, but it was locked. He looked behind him and saw hundreds of corpses heading right for him. There were only seconds left. He couldn’t carry the poker and climb at the same time. Steve threw the poker over the fence and started to scale the fence when a form appeared from around the rear corner of the police station.

  This one wasn’t ragged and rotting. This form was running, dressed in a police uniform. She had brown hair tied in a ponytail and was carrying a pistol in her right hand. She lifted the gun in Steve’s direction, and he raised his hands.

  “Please don’t…” he shouted.

  “Get down!” she commanded.

  Steve dropped to his stomach. There were three explosions as she fired her weapon at the approaching zombies. He looked up to see her keying the lock on the fence. It opened, and she yanked the gate open a little more than a foot.

  “Get in now!” she yelled.

  Steve didn’t need to be told twice, he jumped through the opening, heard the gate clank close and heard her lock it.

  “Come with me. Run.” She commanded again.

  He followed her, running towards the back of the building as he heard dozens of bodies rattling the fence as they slammed against it.

  She stopped at a back door, slid a thick key in the lock, opened the door, and ushered Steve in with a wave of her hand. The heavy steel door closed behind her. She guided him through another secure door and up a short flight of stairs to the main station area.

  “Thanks,” Steve said breathing hard. “I didn’t know anyone else was still alive in town.”

  “Same here. My name’s Kendra Lawless.” She said holding out her hand.

  “I am very glad to meet you. My name is Steve Marshall.” He said giving her hand a firm shake.

  Despite what they just experienced, they both smiled at the irony of their last names.

  “Where the hell did you come from?” Kendra asked.

  Chapter 53

  When Peter woke up, Rachel wasn't there. The morning was cold and gray and the house silent but for the sound of Rachel doing something in the kitchen. He got up, grabbed a sweatshirt and pulled it over his head before shuffling across the living room. He lumbered into the kitchen where he pulled a chair away from the table and sat down.

  “Good morning,” she whispered. “Did you sleep well?”

  He nodded but said nothing. He slept well, but he was still too groggy for any conversation.

  “I've been up for a while,” Rachel continued. “I was going through the stuff we picked up yesterday.”

  Yesterday’s priority had been to get Steve on his way back to Derry. Afterwards, they sat around soul-searching, and got nothing else done. The supplies they collected from their run into town were left in a hasty pile on the kitchen floor. Since waking up, Rachel had put most of it away. Peter cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes.

  “So how are you doing today?” he asked, his voice quiet, flat and subdued.

  She stopped what she was doing and looked up and smiled. “I'm okay,” she replied. “What about you?”

  “I'm good.”

  They were both preoccupied with thoughts of Steve, but neither wanted to talk about it. Rachel wondered what Steve had found in Derry while Peter was wondering if Steve made it there alive at all.

  “So what are we going to do today?” Rachel asked.

  “I don’t know,” he answered. “Why, what do you want to do?”

  She shrugged her shoulders and returned to her work, wondering why she asked in the first place. Having no answer for the question was depressing. A lack of purpose or direction coup
led with constant fear was grinding down her spirit. The unyielding boredom, fear, and frustration hung over her like a leaden shroud.

  “Maybe… we can make something,” Peter suggested, picking up on Rachel's melancholy. “Or do something else.”

  “Like what?” She asked.

  Peter grasped for an answer. “Um, maybe we can clean up and organize, re-decorate a room, move furniture around, work on a puzzle. I don't know. There must be something we can do.”

  “I have an idea. We could sit here and watch the shadows change as the sun travels across the horizon. Then we can go to sleep and get up the next morning and do it all again tomorrow.” Rachel replied cynically.

  Peter knew how she was feeling, but he still found her attitude depressing and wondered if this was how it was always going to be.

  Chapter 54

  “With all the noise we made out there, those things will be piled up against the fence like a hive of angry hornets,” Kendra said. “The fence should hold though. They haven’t been able to get through it yet, and they can’t get into the building.”

  Steve just stared at the young officer with her smooth, clear face, striking green eyes, and athletic build.

  “Where did you come from?” Kendra asked again.

  “I was at the community center on Broadway,” Steve said staring off at nothing. “Everyone was gone, dead.”

  “You were at the community center all this time?” Kendra asked.

  “No, it’s where we all first gathered. When the corpses got up and started walking around, a few of us no longer felt safe and decided to find somewhere better to go.” Steve said.

  “How many survivors were at the community center? How many of you left?”

  “I think there were twenty or twenty-two. Me, Rachel and Peter left. No one else wanted to leave. They were all too scared and thought help would come. Now they’re all gone.” Steve said.

  He saw Kendra lick her lips and swallow. “Where is Rachel and Peter?” She asked.

  “They stayed at the farm we found. It’s up near Goshen.” Steve said.

  “That’s rural country up that way,” Kendra said.

  “It is, but it didn’t matter, the walkers found us there too,” Steve said. “So you’ve been here at the police station since it all started?”

  "No, I was between shifts when it happened. I was at my parents’ house…" Kendra said, her voice softening.

  “You lost everyone too?” Steve said trying not to show any emotion.

  “My mom and dad are…. It was rough. I don’t want to go into it. My older brother is in the Marines, deployed to the Middle East. I haven’t heard from him and have no idea how he is. My little brother, who’s about your age, is at school in Tennessee, in the Safe Zone.”

  “Safe zone?” Steve asked with eyebrows raised.

  "Yeah, it's an area that’s not been affected by the outbreak," Kendra said.

  “Wait a minute, you mean to tell me this didn’t affect the whole world? There are places not affected by the plague?” Steve said as his fingers laced into his hair, elbows sticking out. “And nobody’s come to help? What the fuck?”

  “Hold up a minute Steve, let’s keep our heads. When the outbreak started, it happened simultaneously at several places around the world, and the northeastern United States was one of them. The mortality rate in the Quarantine Zones, where we are, is said to be over 95%. For reasons nobody knows yet, a few of us are immune to the infection.” Kendra said.

  “How big of an area is the quarantine zone? And why hasn’t anyone been sent in to help yet?” Steve said.

  “The Dead Zone, as others are calling it, encompasses eastern Canada, all of New England, New York, northern New Jersey and Pennsylvania all the way to Toronto. The reason they don’t send anyone in is because they're not sure how long the airborne phase of the virus remains lethal. When the outbreak happened, all the aircraft fell from the sky when the crews and passengers became ill and died.” Kendra explained.

  “Then we’ve gotta find a solid vehicle and go to the Safe Zone and save ourselves. And how the hell do you know about all this anyhow?” Steve asked his face flushed with anger.

  “I turn the generator on every couple of days, to ration the fuel, and I’m able to fire up the satellite communications console. I was in contact with people in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, but that has since moved to Richmond, Virginia. We can’t go to the Safe Zone. When the outbreak happened, and they knew it for what it was, the Department of Defense initiated the CONOP protocol.”

  “The con-what protocol?” Steve said.

  “CONOP 8888 is the government’s Counter Zombie Dominance protocol. It’s a handbook outlining different zombie outbreaks and how to handle them.” Kendra said.

  “What the fuck are you saying? The government, our government knew something like this could happen and they have a fucking playbook for it?” Steve said. His mouth hung open as he sat heavily on an office swivel chair, looking up at Kendra.

  “Yes,” Kendra said matter of fact. “And the faster you accept it, the faster you can move past it because there’s more. The brass I’ve been talking too said this strain is alien in nature. It came in from the sky during a series of what we thought were meteor showers. It’s very virulent and deadly, and it’s still spreading. They still aren’t sure all the ways this virus is spreading. Anyone in a Dead Zone has to remain there. If we try to go to a Safe Zone, we will be killed on sight.”

  “What? Zombie protocols, alien viruses, the government killing their own people? This is too fucking much, you’ve been alone too long and you’ve fucking lost it. You hear me? You’re fucking crazy! This is unbelievable.” Steve said walking in circles shaking his head.

  “Take a fucking look around Steve,” Kendra said now herself hyped up. “What has been believable since this whole fucking mess started? Was it believable when everyone we knew and loved suddenly choked on their own blood and vomit and died? Or was it believable when they all got up and started walking around again? Or is believable that they are now going after the living to eat us, or to turn us into one of them? Tell me, Steve, what has been so fucking believable over the past two weeks?”

  “Holy shit, you're serious,” Steve said with dawning surprise.

  “Like a fucking heart attack,” Kendra replied.

  Steve leaned forward, holding his head in his hands and looking at the floor.

  “It’s spreading,” Kendra said.

  “What, the virus?”

  “Yes. The Safe Zones are shrinking and the Dead Zones are growing at each site around the world. You remember when the corpses started walking around? It was like they were unaware of their surroundings.”

  Steve, still with his head in his hands looking at the floor, nodded without saying a word.

  “Then they began to notice us, especially if there was an injury involving blood. They’re like sharks; they can smell blood from a distance. It’s like a switch being flipped and they become aggressive.”

  Steve looked up, his mouth open. “That happened in the community center. One of those things bit a guy.”

  Kendra nodded, “Then he died right, and a couple hours later, he became one of them—right?”

  “Oh my god, that’s what must have happened,” Steve said. “We left after the guy got bit. He was angry, but didn’t look sick.”

  “Yeah, once you're bitten you’re infected, and its game over. Depending on the severity of the wound you die within a couple of hours, and an hour or two later, you come back, but these dead guys are really aggressive. They attack the living right away. Once blood is in the air, it acts like a beacon and draws the others from around the area. I think those fucking moans they make are calling other zombies in the area. From what I’ve seen and reports I’ve heard it’s like they know we’re alive like they can see our body heat or something. They come right after us now. It’s a damn good thing they can’t run… yet.”

  “Yet?” Steve said as he stood.


  “They keep mutating right? They went from dead, to harmless stumbling walking corpses, to full-on zombies looking to kill us. When they attack, they often just mutilate a living person enough to kill them, so they can turn and join their ranks. Other times, they’ll devour a whole human being down to the bone. No one understands why some of the victims are eaten.” Kendra said.

  “This is all so fucking unbelievable,” Steve said his mouth hanging open and his eyes large and dark.

  “The good thing is, they can’t run, they can’t open doors, drive cars or use any weapons. But they are multiplying and they are pushing back the boundaries of the Safe Zone.”

  “But how? They’re so slow, and not very strong.” Steve said.

  "You have to remember Boston and New York were affected. This created millions of zombies, and all of them are looking for fresh meat. They’re slow and not strong, but they are hard to kill. In case you haven’t figured it out, the only way to stop them is with a lethal impact to the head that destroys the brain." Kendra said.

  “Just like the fucking movies and TV shows,” Steve said.

  “Exactly, but unlike the TV shows, shooting a moving target in the head is not easy. You can damage the fuck out of the body but they just keep coming. When there's millions of zombies and only thousands of cops, soldiers, and armed civilians, the numbers always win out. It’s been that way throughout the history of warfare. The lines get overrun, and they have to retreat, losing hundreds of people in the process. Those that are killed turn to zombies, and now we have to fight them too. The ranks of the zombies are growing at the same rate the living are being killed. It’s an all-out war for the survival of humanity.” Kendra finished, and there was silence.

  “Rachel… Peter and Rachel, they’re on that farm and they don’t know any of this.” Steve said gesturing with his hands. “That flimsy barrier we built won’t hold. They’ll be overrun. I’ve gotta go get them and bring them back here. I need to take one of those police SUV’s.”

 

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