Z Towers: An Apocalyptic Plague (Made in the U.S.A.)

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Z Towers: An Apocalyptic Plague (Made in the U.S.A.) Page 16

by Jay Zano


  “I’m in,” Zoe says.

  “I’m in, too,” says Fick. “I’d rather die trying to live than just waiting to die.”

  “Come on, Vegas. We’ve come so far, let’s finish this!”

  “Okay, Tyson, what’s your plan?”

  “Great, time to step it up! Fick, you still have juice for your phone?”

  “I don’t know, Tyson. Maybe a few seconds left.”

  “Worth a shot! Okay, turn it on and face me.”

  Fickle hits the power button and waits for the boot sequence to complete. Once it has, he starts his video recorder. He points to me as if to say ‘action’.

  “Hello, America! Well, someone tried to kill us, again. I’m assuming it’s the military, controlled by Zook to hide his dirty little secret. Well, he missed some of us, but he got the rest and killed an NYPD officer, in the process. Is this the new America? Where we kill each other to protect secrets? Well, I have news for you; we are New Yorkers! We don’t die easily, and we never give up. To my fellow citizens: Zook and his friends built a bio-agent in your backyard, and now they’re trying to hide it. Rise up! We’ll be out of here in a few, and I know you have our backs. To our military friends watching, we’re getting out of this building, and we’re coming for you. See you soon!”

  The phone goes dark.

  “That’s it, battery dead,” Fickle says, pulling the phone off the front of his shirt.

  “Well, I think I got my point across.”

  “I’ll say you did,” Vegas agrees. “Now, do you mind sharing how the hell we get out of here?”

  “First thing’s first,” I say as I turn to Fickle. “Fick, I know I’ve been hard on you, and if we’re being honest, you could’ve gotten us killed countless times. That said, you stepped up and saved all of our lives by not letting us step on that balcony. You did it, man. You saved our lives!”

  I can see the pride bloom in Fickle as he takes in what I’m saying. He knows it took him a while to comprehend the magnitude of our situation, but he’s earned the rank of hero, and he’s beaming. He smiles for a few more moments before looking over to me.

  “Thanks, Tyson. But now what?”

  A coy smile creeps across my face, and I say, “Follow me!”

  With everyone in close pursuit, I dart from Zook’s penthouse to his boardwalk, which is connected to tower two. As we run across the boardwalk, I notice the huge crowd amassed below. I slow down to a snail’s pace to take in the view, and the others quickly follow suit.

  “Holy shit!” Vegas exclaims. “There have to be twenty thousand people down there.”

  He’s right; it’s quite the scene. Not since New Year’s Eve in Times Square have I seen a crowd this big. The people have come out in droves to view the spectacle of Zook Towers. I hope they’re all here rooting for us, united against Fredrick J. Zook. Hey, maybe we can use this to our advantage.

  “Hey, guys, let’s get their attention,” I yell to the group.

  “We’re one hundred stories up. No way they’re going to see us,” Fickle responds.

  “Come on, that sounds like a challenge to me,” I say with a smile. We all look at each other for a second and then start jumping and screaming like maniacs, barely visible on top of the Zook Towers ‘Z’.

  “Up here!”

  “Look at me, you assholes!”

  “Woohoo!”

  Down below, in the reporters’ section, Mark Fields stands with fifty other reporters. He’s on the phone, talking to his producer, when he glances up to see movement.

  “I don’t believe it. Put me on in thirty seconds! Just do it!” As he closes his phone, he runs over to his cameraman. “Zoom in on the top of the ‘Z’ and tell me what you see.”

  “Holy shit, I see four people jumping up and down like crazy!”

  “Yes! On me, we’re going live. Get ready to pan up there on my cue!”

  Mark quickly fixes his hair and turns to the camera, receiving the signal that he’s live.

  “Hello again. Mark Fields here, now reporting from ground zero of Zook Towers. As you and the rest of the world saw just moments ago, there was a huge explosion on top of tower one which can only be described as a military mission to stop people from escaping the towers. Well, in breaking news that you will only see on this channel, it appears that the military missed its mark. As my cameraman zooms in, you can clearly see four survivors waving frantically to us below.” The camera tightens on our jumping figures. “This is an obvious attempt by those still in the building to make contact with us, likely to let us know they are safe and still in desperate need of rescue.”

  Back up on the boardwalk, we continue to jump around.

  “Hey!”

  “Can you hear us?”

  “Guys, I don’t think they can hear us, or even see us,” I say dejectedly. Just as we lose our enthusiasm, we hear a huge roar from the crowd below.

  “Holy shit, they can see us!”

  This gives us all a rush of adrenaline, and we start hugging and screaming down to the crowd.

  “Alright, guys, time to give them something to show we aren’t ready to give up,” I say with a smile.

  Back down on the ground, the camera remains trained on us.

  “They appear to be in good spirits, despite the colossal odds against them,” says Mark Fields. “As you can see, they’re jumping and hugging as if they have… They appear to be gesturing to the crowd here. Oh wait, they’re doing something. Let’s zoom in a little closer.”

  It’s then that we drop our pants and place our asses on the window of the boardwalk.

  “Well, it looks like they’re mooning us, right now! Interpret that how you will. This is Mark Fields for Channel Two News.”

  “And you’re off!” laughs the cameraman.

  “Not quite Pulitzer material, Tyson,” Mark says, dropping his microphone to his side. “Thanks a lot.”

  We all have our asses to the window. To me, this is the biggest middle finger we could possibly give to those trying to kill us. I’ve never felt more alive. We have zombies that are trying to eat us and the strongest military in the world trying to silence us, yet here we are, with our asses to the window in the ultimate act of defiance. Honestly, I can think of nothing more American, right now. As we all look at each other in our ridiculousness, we hear something familiar from outside the window. We look back to see a military chopper rising up into view. We quickly pull up our pants and start running down the boardwalk. As we clear to tower two, I give the chopper one last middle-finger salute. He gives it back, and then an actual salute and a smile. Perhaps they are on our side, after all. Either that or the pilot is a New Yorker. I look down one more time to the massive crowd below. As I do, I notice some movement in the skyway below. I focus to take a closer look. Shit, it’s full of zombies! Tower two is not the safe zone we think it is. I look back up at the helicopter hovering outside. He too notices the zombies flooding the skyway. There’s no time to spare; I need to warn the others.

  In the barracks, Sergeant Major Braxton is on the radio.

  “Take the shot.”

  “Negative,” responds the pilot. “There’s no clear shot, and the lower skyway is flooded with zombies. Taking a shot could cause a containment issue.”

  “Dammit!” Braxton responds, throwing the radio against the wall. “Bring me Chief Franklin, right now!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Moments later, Chief Franklin is escorted in by two MPs.

  “Well, Chief, it looks like your friends have made their way to tower two. Anything I should know about that?” Braxton asks.

  “You killed my pilot,” growls Franklin. “You can go to hell!”

  “I’m sorry I had to do that; it’s not something I take lightly, but I told you exactly what would happen if you didn’t help me. Let’s be fair, your pilot would be alive right now if you’d cooperated fully with me from the beginning.”

  “And there’d be a lot more people alive right now if we worked together
. This is not a hot military zone, this is New York City! We help people, we don’t trap the innocent or kill them if they disobey us. This isn’t Iraq or Afghanistan, but you didn’t want to listen, you wanted to come in here and put your thumb on the situation. Your ego killed Americans, today! Don’t you try to turn this around on me.”

  “Well, what now?” asks the sergeant major, shaking his head. “Where do we go from here? I’ve never had anything but the best intentions for all Americans. I needed to contain the situation to protect everyone. I hope you understand that.”

  “I understand that rules of engagement are easy for you. They’re black and white. Well, nothing is black and white here. It’s adapting to the climate, the crowd, the situation. Something you’re terrible at!”

  “Let’s work together, then. I don’t want to kill anyone else. Do you know what their plan is in tower two?”

  “I honestly do not, and if I did, I’m not entirely sure I could trust you, at this point.”

  “Well, I’m all out of moves that save people, Chief. My next one is to risk my troops’ lives by sending them into tower two to eliminate the threat.”

  “You do what you have to.”

  “I’m doing my job, Chief! I’d expect someone in your position to understand that!”

  “I understand just fine. You took your military playbook and applied it to Americans. When you do that, nobody wins. We all lose!”

  Braxton takes in Franklin’s last comment, now standing toe-to-toe with the chief. He looks him up and down one more time before spinning one hundred and eighty degrees and walking away.

  CHAPTER 31

  BREAKING THE LINE

  I CATCH UP TO the others waiting at the elevator.

  “Guys, it looks like we’re not out of the woods just yet. Zombies are flooding over here on the skywalk. We need to be careful.”

  “Damn, man. Can’t we ever catch a break?” Vegas chimes in.

  “We should be fine, just as long as the crosswalk we’re going to is clear, it’s a straight shot.”

  We make our way down in the elevator and cross the crosswalk of the dark building. So far, all looks clear. As I start to reflect, I’m thankful for my time with Sid, for meeting Matt, Dylan, Frank and Derek. I’m thankful for me and Zoe, that Fick is suddenly beaming with confidence and that my friend Vegas is still with me. We press on and make our way to the final hallway that leads to our way out. It’s funny; when Matt was telling me about Zook’s paranoia and his secret escape route to the newsstand across the street, I expected a much more sophisticated path. It’s actually pretty plain. Even the door itself is nothing more than a bar-push. Pretty low-key for a man that poops in gold-plated toilet bowls. Matt, being as crazy as he was, ultimately had the plan that would save us. I’m so lucky we met. As we close in on the door, we hear a noise coming from the darkness of the hall behind us. We pause for a moment to look back into the darkness, hearing another noise that’s slightly louder. Our hearts are beating out of our chests; the room reeks with the smell of our fear. We shuffle backwards, making our way to freedom without taking our focus from the sounds coming from the end of the hall. As we step back, our biggest fear is realized. A small group of zombies make their way into the light. Smelling our fear, they scamper in our direction. We turn and sprint as fast as we can down the long, narrow hallway. As we run, I can’t help but wonder if this is the end for us. Have we come all this way, just to be devoured mere feet from our freedom? The door’s in sight, but the zombies are closing in!

  We can hear the commotion of the crowd outside; we’re literally steps away from freedom, or at least a moment of freedom. We know we’re risking gunfire as soon as we step outside, but we can’t worry about that now. I don’t know about the rest of the group, but a bullet in the head sounds like a much better way to go than being eaten alive.

  “Okay, guys,” I shout, seeing that we’re nearly there, “this is it. On the other side of this door is freedom. We surrender from here.”

  They lower their weapons and I barge through the door. We tumble out of a fake newspaper stand and onto the sidewalk, across from Zook Towers. I leap up, tripping over my own feet, and reach for the door, managing to slam it shut right as sunlight falls across a slobbering face. The door seems secure enough to hold them, but we can’t be too sure. As we step back from the door and out into the crowd, it all seems so surreal. We gaze up at the enormous towers surrounded by helicopters and military personnel, taking in the crowd that’s still fixated on the building in front of us. In this moment, I feel like I could just slide into anonymity and disappear. I look over at Zoe and smile, as we share a moment that seems to last forever.

  We hear a voice in the crowd cry, “It’s them!”

  Suddenly, we’re mobbed by New Yorkers! You would think they’d be apprehensive of getting this close to us after what we’ve been through, but it doesn’t seem to matter to them. Instead, there’s a deluge of hugs and high-fives. Funny; I started my day feeling like a celebrity because someone wanted to take my picture as I went into Z Towers, and I’m ending my day a celebrity for having managed to get out.

  Unfortunately, the celebration is cut short by several soldiers in hazmat suits. They appear from nowhere, armed with M16s, and circle around us. They quickly have us surrounded, and then we’re on our stomachs. As the soldiers lock us down, a figure appears through the tight circle.

  “Tyson, I presume? I’m Sergeant Major Braxton. The party is over.”

  CHAPTER 32

  WHERE ARE WE NOW?

  I BELIEVE IN OUR last communication, I left you with a bunch of soldiers with guns to our heads. Well, you’ll be happy to know that it didn’t end with us being brutally murdered on the street, nor did the zombies breach quarantine. We spent the next three weeks in military quarantine; better than death, but only slightly. They spent that time poking and prodding us in the worst ways imaginable. I’m guessing that I may have a similar experience if I’m ever abducted by aliens. After we were violated both physically and civilly, we were free to go, and all went on to cash in on our fame.

  Mark Fields

  Mark Fields never won the Pulitzer, but he did put himself on the map. He ended up starting his own TV show trying to uncover the hidden plots and agendas of dirty politicians. His show was nominated for an Emmy.

  Braxton

  Braxton was given a medal for his heroic actions at Zook Towers. He declined the medal and resigned from the military. He was never seen or heard from again.

  Chief Franklin

  Chief Franklin was never charged with obstruction and was given a medal for his and his team’s brave service. He gave the medal to the family of the NYPD pilot who lost his life trying to save others on the top of Zook Towers. He’s still the chief of police.

  Fickle

  Fickle opened up a very successful survival camp where he trains everyday people in how to survive a zombie apocalypse. He’s also a motivational speaker and life coach for those looking for confidence or a job promotion. He still lives in New York City, and has since married, with a kid on the way.

  Vegas

  Vegas ended up earning nine million dollars from people betting on our lives. He partnered with a friend to make an online video game called Escape Zook Towers. The cool part of the game is that no one has a chance to get out alive if the Tyson character dies. He moved to Las Vegas and gambles every day.

  Me and Zoe

  As for me and Zoe. Well, after interviewing all the witnesses, law enforcement and anyone else who had a different perspective on Zook Towers, I wrote a book about the entire incident which you are reading now. Zoe and I went on a short book-signing and talk-show tour. After a few months, our celebrity faded, and we tried to settle back down in New York. It just didn’t feel right. Paying homage to one of Z Towers’ victims, we decided to sell all of our belongings, and will spend the next six months hiking the entire Appalachian Trail. I guess this is our happily ever after.

  Almost Forgot />
  You’re probably wondering about Zook and Jacobs. Well, that story doesn’t end well. Shortly after the Zook Towers were contained and cleared of zombies, the investigation quickly shifted to Zook and Jacobs. Military personnel moved in on Zook’s estate. They broke into the house and found Zook in one of the rooms, completely zombied out (thanks to Jacobs, no doubt). Zook lunged at the soldiers and was shot and killed. A fitting end to his legacy. He was a figurative monster in life and a literal monster in death.

  After combing through the estate, there was no sign of Jacobs and, more disturbingly, no sign of the bio-agent that was stolen from Zook Towers. The only clue found was the phrase ‘The End Is Near, Genesis 6:13!’ carved into the wall of the room where they found Zook. For all the greatness that Zook thought would be his legacy, he won’t be remembered as the greatest American patriot, but as a weak, small man with stunted feet, who risked the lives of all Americans due to his greed for power and infamy. Thanks to his ego, hatred for others and lack of any actual intelligence, America and the rest of the world is, and will always be, on the brink of an apocalypse. No matter how warped Zook was, I believe that, in his sick mind, he thought he was helping the world. In the end, he was just a pawn in Jacobs’ master plan. That monster is still out there, and no one knows a thing about him: who he works for, why he did this or what he plans to do next. Jacobs was last seen walking away from Zook’s estate just hours before it was raided. In his hand, a briefcase.

  Turns out, evil isn’t just created, it’s manufactured in the good ol’ USA. God help us all!

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  How Did We Get Here?

  Chapter 2

  Welcome to Zook Towers

  Chapter 3

  The Genesis Project

  Chapter 4

  The Breach

  Chapter 5

 

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