Way of the Undead

by Boggess, Michael

  “Before I tell you about your father, I want you to hear me out. The Statesman Society have been around since the early 1800’s, when the first order was created by then President Thomas Jefferson. The President first granted the Statesmen the power to carry out underground provocation on any land owner that stood in the way of America’s industrial, agricultural, or even architectural development. Intern the big clearing out of the Indians. The Statesman Society supposedly provided weapons and goaded the Native American population into becoming enemies of the state.”

  Mark listened in bewilderment and agony, waiting to find out the truth about his father’s disappearance. “Continue!”

  “The Statesman Society over the course of history integrated their selves into all facets of the political world. Their terroristic way’s continued through America’s darkest days, when then General of the Union Forces, Ulysses S. Grant, right before his reign as the President, was the head of the newly reformed Statesmen. His brilliance was conveyed in the fact that the Statesmen had thousands of double agents working in the Confederate Camps. Some of the most crucial victories were won due to the Statesmen’s double agents shooting their own Confederate Troops right in their backs on the battlefield.”

  “That’s crazy,” Mark said, listening closely.

  “The Statesman Society have been continually responsible for the shaping of all that we know about America from their inception,” Frank told.

  “What do they now have to gain? Why destroy the world by spreading the virus?” Mark asked, trying to fathom the reasoning behind such an act.

  “The Statesman Society have generally continued to corrupt over the years. Their personal desires and aspirations have become prominent in how they run things. In 1963 President John F. Kennedy met his demise due to his attempt to disband the still intact political, one-hundred-year-old mandate that had by then become a near secret society. The whole assassination was staged and the gunmen was drugged and placed at the scene of the crime. The real shooter, a high-ranking Statesmen General was nowhere to be implemented. The first order of the Statesmen to do any and everything in their power to protect all aspects of America had been corrupted, and at that point changed to protect their own political sovereignty and welfare.”

  Mark thought it all over. “This is deep.”

  “The Statesman Society continue to grow in numbers behind their leader, Senator Paul Cooper of Arkansas. The Senator, like all Statesmen, dream of taking over the presidency someday. And for everything good that the Statesmen and their sect do: they do ten-corrupt things to offset that balance. Now their most recent act of bioterrorism, was acting concurrent with a near one-hundred-year-old protocol on what could happen in the event of a localized plague sweeping America.”

  Frank paused for a moment, watching the monitor on his security cameras before going on to further explain the protocol. “In the 1940’s when the first atomic bomb was created, the Statesman Society were a part of the Nuclear Warfare and Contingent Strategy Plan. It was their idea to deter the deployment of nuclear bombs by coming to an understanding with other countries that in the event of a nuclear strike, a system of guidelines were in place—stating for the preemptive and immediate retaliatory strike of their own.”

  “Wait a minute,” Mark interrupted, “How can our government be so blind… do they not realize that the Statesmen are terrorists?”

  “The leader of the Statesmen ordered his men to spread the plague as a precaution, feeling that if news got out on such a mysterious and lethal new illness being localized to only America, other countries might try to incinerate us with a nuclear strike, attempting to strike the plague at its origin. This has always been a fear of living in the nuclear age.

  Frank added, “At one point they tried to prevent chaos. But, one corrupt leader after corrupt leader now turned the disbanded sect of CIA operatives into soldiers for their own political upheaval.”

  As Frank watched the monitor for any strange activity, he gathered the strength to carry on. “Mark, the man responsible for your father’s death is Major Tom Bradford of the United States Army. He’s the Statesmen’s second in command… I was there when it happened. Myself and a group of my men were to meet with your dad after one of our informants had found out that the local Sheriff and local Police Chief were missing. We were going to take him and your entire family into protective custody. As we arrived outside of the Ranger Station, we assumed it was his body being dragged to the back of a large all black SUV. Upon trying to retrieve the body—a gunfight ensued that resulted in the death of three of my men. Me and a few of my remaining men fled as another group of their agents arrived on the scene.”

  Mark thought it all over, realizing that perhaps his dad could still be alive. “So, you don’t know for sure that he was killed. Could he have just been unconscious? Could he have been kidnapped?”

  “I’ve dealt with their agents before, Mark, they don’t leave any one alive. Most likely they would have killed him to cut the chance of an escape or someone interfering with their plans. They’re ruthless.”

  Mark listened, but refused to believe that his dad was dead.

  “Mark, me and my people are flying out of here tomorrow. Why don’t you and your brother come with us?”

  “I would but… it’s not just me and my brother. We’re a group of around fifteen now,” Mark explained, hoping to relay good news back to everyone upon his return.

  “Mark, we’re just one chopper. They’re going to be here first thing in the morning. I hope you decide to come with us.”

  “I’m sorry… I can’t go. I have too many people here counting on me for help. My brother and girlfriend included.”

  Frank stood up before sadly going on to state the facts. “I would get you all out of this if I could. There just aren’t many safe places to turn anymore since the virus has begun to spread. The place we’re headed is slowly starting to feel the effects of the outbreak as well. Mark… I had a friend in the Soldiers of Truth who owned one of the largest and most luxurious hotel’s in all the area.”

  “Where’s this place?” Mark asked.

  “It’s safe, and well hidden up in the mountains. It would be the idea place to set up camp. And the perfect place to take a small community of survivors safe out of harm’s way. I suggest that you all go there and get as far away from town as possible. I have a feeling that in a few weeks the Army’s going to come back through—this time destroying everything in an attempt to rid the place of infection.

  Once everything gets somewhat back to normal, I’ll know right where to find you,” Frank said as he began to scribble down the directions on a notepad.

  “Great.”

  “Before I go, who is this Major Bradford?” Mark asked vengefully as his muscles began to tense up.

  “Like I said… he’s the Statesmen’s second in command. And from what I’ve heard, he’s lobbying to take over. He continuously causes internal strife in their ranks—but has amassed just as much of a following as their own leader that the Senator can’t touch him.”

  Mark listened, getting angrier by the second. “Where do I find him?”

  “We’ve worked for years on bringing down Senator Cooper and the Statesmen, but we are just now realizing how much of a problem the Major actually is. We know that he’s planning on assassinating the Senator at a later date. We just don’t know when. And as far as taking out the Major, it’s just not happening anytime soon. He is well protected by the Army.”

  “I’m going to find him,” Mark vowed, clinching his fist.

  “Now Mark, this is only speculation, but my intelligence operatives said that Major Bradford is the most power-hungry Statesmen to date. I was told that with his position in the military, he is responsible for a lot of the chaos going on in the world, perhaps even shaping it.”

  “Why is he so power hungry?” Mark asked.

  “Hear me out. Along with wanting to take over as leader of the Statesman Society, he plans on somehow
taking over as the new President of the United States of America. Even though being only a Major in the military doesn’t put him in line for it just yet, he plans on somehow offsetting everything from what I was told. My Soldiers of Truth don’t know exactly how Major Bradford plans on accomplishing this, but we are keeping a diligent eye on him. So, answering your question: I don’t think that there will ever be a good time or place to find him—he’s too well protected.”

  “He’s not going to be that hard to find. Wherever the Army is, that’s where I’ll eventually find him.”

  “Mark, you need to be careful messing with them. You need to just leave it to us,” Frank warned.

  “I’ll be fine,” Mark replied.

  Frank went on to further clarify his fears of the Statesman Society. “I just truly don’t think you understand how dangerous they are. I just want you to know that there is even rumored to be a Dark Sect of the Statesmen. The Dark Sect are considered perhaps even older then the Statesmen themselves.”

  “What’s the difference? Mark asked, “And how are they connected.”

  Frank looked around the room, making sure that his wife wasn’t listening before going on to warn: “The Dark Sect has been by far the most difficult faction of the Statesmen Society to infiltrate. From the intelligence we’ve gathered, we believe that the Dark Sect started out as a group from another secret society that joined the Statesmen at the very beginning…nearly two hundred years ago. From what we do know, the group use to dwell heavily in the occult. Their early beginnings aren’t that well know, but they joined the Statesman Society for some sort of mutual benefit. Their ideas we believe go hand and hand with one another.”

  “What kind of mutual benefits?”

  “From what I was told, the Dark Sect are hunters of the occult. They search out things beyond the range of ordinary knowledge and understanding. And how they coincide with the Statesman Society, they seek out these mysteries that might become a detriment or a National Security issue.”

  “Are they crazy?” Mark asked, trying to piece it all together.

  “Let’s step out here for a moment.”

  Having exited out of the small room, Frank waited a moment to explain about the rumored Dark Sect. “What’s been rumored about the Dark Sect’s early involvement with the Statesmen was that over the last five to six hundred years they sought out and destroyed vampires, witches, and even werewolves. Anything considered odd for their time. Over the years, they continue their search for such odd occurrences. Mark…all of those reports of UFO’s being covered up by the government, well that’s them.”

  “Are they real?” Mark asked.

  Frank looked over at his large collection of books. “I don’t know if Aliens are real, or what the Dark Sect feel the need to silence is. Like I said, they’re a group you don’t won’t to get involved with. Every attempt to gain knowledge within the Dark Sect comes to a deadly end for one my agents. The only thing we do know is that they have some of the best security backing every aspect of their interworking’s: whether it’s from computer or word of mouth—my agents have no info.”

  “So… you’re telling me that vampires are real and possibly even Aliens,” Mark said.

  “Mark, I’m telling you all of this because you’re one of us now, a Soldier of Truth. And one of these days if you get a chance to spread the word or help in the struggle—do so.”

  Having placed on his ninja hood, off into the night, Mark followed his same path, making his way back down that same dark stretch of unoccupied back road. While arriving at a clearing, off in the distance, a strange occurrence became visible. Just up the road a bit a bonfire could be seen out in the middle of a cornfield. Mark killed the bikes engine and turned off his headlight.

  From the woods, gunshots could be heard echoing. Once the shots stopped, Mark covered his bike with leaves and proceeded out into the dark cornfield. Working his way around the vast amounts of corn—with his revolvers drawn, he began to quietly proceed further through the field. In the darkness, hidden behind a large row of cornstalk, a clearing of land became visible.

  Through the stalks he watched from the shadow’s trying to figure out who started the large-scale, seemingly controlled blaze. Out of nowhere a feint rustling could be heard, and with the noise came a cool breeze sweeping across the many rows of corn—carrying a stench along with it.

  Through the stalks, a few shadowy figures came into view. Mark could barely make out the figures in the darkness, but he could tell that they weren’t zombies. Stepping into the light cast by the bonfire, their uniforms appeared that of National Guardsmen. Keenly, any injury that they might have were easily assessed, due to body language alone. The three soldiers were badly injured, limping around. One of the guardsmen managed to get around better than the rest, but was having to wear a bandage tightly around a wound on his head. The second guardsman was having to wear a sling on his arm; however, the last of the three was the worst off, having his leg bandaged up and using his M-16 as a crutch. Peering through, it was no surprise what was fueling the nearly seven-foot tall bonfire. Zombie corpses seemed to stoke up the flames like no other source.

  Chapter 25 way of the undead

  “These are my new friends, Private Samples, Private Green, and Private Ricketts,” Mark said, introducing his guests to the rest of the survivors.

  The group was pleased to see new faces—especially that of soldiers.

  “I’m Private Samples and this here Is Private Ricketts. That goofy looking fellow over there with the hurt leg is Private Green.”

  Mark, having reloaded his weapons, spun the chamber into place, casually putting them back into their holster. “This here is Sheriff Houser and my brother, Tyler. Yawl already know me, I’m Mark Smith. I’m a deputy around these parts.”

  “That was some mighty fine shooting back at the cornfield, deputy,” Private Ricketts said jokingly.

  Private Green hobbled over to the conversation. “Yeah, thanks.”

  Sheriff Houser stepped forward. “Why were you out in the middle of nowhere?”

  Private Samples looked around Luigi’s dim-lit restaurant. “We were kind of stranded out there. Our own men left us to die. None of us have been bitten, but if we had been, I can bet we would be too scared to take that Anti-virus give to us. A few of our men took it and almost immediately died.”

  “At least they didn’t turn into zombies,” Private Ricketts shouted from over at the cooler.

  “Yeah, I guess that was a good trade. Immediate death over dying then coming back a zombie and eating everybody else,” Private Samples said.

  “That same Anti-virus cured me.” Mark explained. “But, one of my friends had a different reaction to it… it killed him instantly.”

  “At least it worked for you,” Private Green said.

  “Where’d your men go?” Mark asked.

  Private Samples, holding his hand over his bandaged up head went on to explain as he fought through the pain. “We got these wounds when a fairly large group of zombies ran out in front of our platoon leaders jeep, forcing us off a small cliff to keep from hitting him. A few of us were knocked out, but Private Green heard a gunfight going on up above us. When we were able to climb back up the steep mountain slope, everyone was gone and out of contact range.”

  “I never got to ask you, what was up with your friend hanging up on that post like a scarecrow in the middle of that cornfield?” Mark asked.

  Private Samples thought back, tilting his head. “He was the only one left atop of the embankment when we were finally able to climb back up. He was all messed up. Once he changed…we weren’t sure if killing him would lead to a court martial or not. We just tied him up and left him up there.”

  Private Green then interrupted, saying, “Yeah, we couldn’t shoot him even if we wanted to. We’ve known him for years.”

  With little time to waste, Mark interrupted the conversation and the group of soldier’s brief introduction. “I talked to a former CIA official
last night. I was told that in only a matter of weeks, he feels that the Army’s going to sweep back through. This time destroying anywhere the virus or an infected zombie or carrier could hide. I don’t want to stick around and find out. But, most of all I don’t want to wait around and all of a sudden the building get blown up around me.”

  Jake gathered in closely listening. “I’d say it might be like when they blew up the stadium the other night; although it was overrun with zombies, somebody had to have called in that air-strike. There might have even been actual civilians hiding in the stadium… trapped inside when it got leveled. The Army probably didn’t even care if there was,” Jake went on to stress. “They were probably just following orders.”

  Mark pulled out the directions he was given, and began to explain. “I was given a map...and from what I was told, we just need to gather our things and head up to the mountains. I was told of a place—kind of a safe haven of some sort. My informant Frank said that there was a large hotel constructed many years ago on the side of Lookout Mountain, and that it overlooks the whole town of Gatlinburg.”

  “Wait,” Steven said. “I’ve lived here my whole life… how come I’ve never heard of this place?”

  Mark looked over the map, viewing it as a prized possession. “It’s up there. And from what I was told, this place was one of the area’s largest and most luxurious hotels of its time. It was built in the thirty’s and was forced to close down in the fifty’s once a large area of the mountain became part of the National Park. The whole area of land was taken over and anyone up there owning a house or cabin was given a lifetime lease on their own land. I was told that after only ten years from having issued the lifetime leases, the National Park service turned around and changed the leasing agreement into only a twenty-year lease. Sometime in the seventy’s everyone that owned land up there was forced to move on out.”