George Washington Zombie Slayer

by Wiles, David

  Chapter 63

  A Beacon To Light The Way Home

  George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin had earned a great victory in the destruction of the British Zombie Camp, and some nearby farmers, pleased to be rid of the British interlopers, volunteered to assist the three in the burning of the rotting, stinking zombie and human corpses that were spread across the remnants of the facility.

  The Founding Fathers swore them all to secrecy so that there would be no written or verbal account of the event. To prevent panic amongst the American people and promote societal stability, the existence and destruction of the zombie camp was concealed. History would record Franklin as an inventor and diplomat, Jefferson as a scholar and statesman, and Washington as soldier and President. The three would never be known as zombie slayers and that fact would become lost to history.

  For several days, the bodies of the deceased redcoats and zombies were gathered up and placed in a huge pile near the center of the camp. When all the corpses were piled together, a literal mountain of decaying flesh rose imposingly over the site. They were making preparations for their departure, knowing they would leave immediately upon setting the bodies ablaze now that all the corpses were piled together.

  “Where are you off to? Washington asked his two friends.

  “Monticello,” Jefferson replied. “And then some congressional duties.”

  “I’m heading back to Philadelphia, and then back to my diplomatic duties,” Franklin answered. “And you, General?”

  “I’m heading back to Mount Vernon,” Washington said. “And then I shall rejoin the army. All reports thus far are encouraging and I have ordered the Continental Army to advance upon the British position near a place called…Yorktown. After their defeats in the Carolinas, the British are in a state of retreat.”

  “That seems most promising,” Jefferson stated. “It will be such a relief to shed our continent of these British cocksuckers.”

  “Here, here!” Franklin said in agreement.

  “And we now have the timely assistance of the French,” Washington added. “After a quick stop at Mount Vernon, I shall eagerly rejoin the army.”

  “Shall we set these corpses aflame?” Franklin asked as the three men stood beside the putrid, mountainous pile of zombie carcasses that towered over the landscape.

  “You do the honors, G, and light them up,” Jefferson said, handing his torch to Washington. “This was your plan, after all.”

  “A plan that would have failed but for the two of you,” George Washington admitted. “It’s good to have such friends.” He leaned forward and touched the tip of the torch to the giant zombie mountain.

  The flames started slowly but eventually spread across the circular base of the zombie flesh-mound, and soon the entire base was aflame, with the flames slowly rising upward. The three founding fathers hugged once again and mounted their horses for their respective journeys home, bidding each other an affectionate farewell.

  “This is for you, General,” Benjamin Franklin said, handing Washington a brown leather backpack. “Another of my inventions,” he added. “It may be of some eventual use to you. The instructions are inside.” Washington smiled and thanked Franklin.

  “I never asked you,” Washington said to Franklin. “Where did you learn to fight so well? Jefferson and I are ninjas. But …where were you trained?”

  “Me?” Franklin replied simply. “I’m from Philadelphia. ‘Nuff said.” The three men laughed.

  “That pile of zombies is already burning bright, even at noon,” Jefferson said as the three began to ride off. “I imagine it may burn for several days, with the amount of bodies in there.”

  “It shall be a beacon,” Benjamin Franklin said, “to light our way home.”

  With that, the three departed by separate roads. It turned out Franklin was correct. For as evening came on, the distant light of the burning mass of dead zombies created a dull orange glow, like that of a rising sun, which allowed Washington to ride on towards Mount Vernon, even through the dark of night.

  Chapter 64

  A Kidnapping at Mount Vernon

  George Washington’s slaves Denzel and LL Cool J walked into the main house at Mount Vernon at sunrise and saw the parlor of the home was in complete disarray. Furniture was upended and pieces of broken glass, porcelain and pottery littered the floor. The door to the room had been kicked in, and several wall sconces had been knocked from their mountings. In the center of the floor lay two of the senior Mount Vernon house slaves, Oprah and Beyonce, bruised, bloodied and unconscious.

  “Get some water, quickly!” Denzel said, kneeling beside his fellow slaves. LL Cool J brought a small pail of well water, into which Denzel soaked a clean cloth and applied it to both ladies faces, bringing them both back to consciousness. He carefully wiped small amounts of blood from their heads, but they did not appear to be very seriously injured.

  “What happened here?” Denzel asked.

  “A blue-hooded man came, in the night,” Beyonce replied, still somewhat stunned. “I didn’t see his face.”

  “He came and took Mrs. Washington!” Oprah explained. “Kidnapped her!”

  Denzel pointed to LL Cool J and said, “Search the house for Mrs. Washington!” LL Cool J ran out and began searching from room to room while Denzel tended to his wounded friends.

  “Do you know who he was?” Denzel asked.

  “With the hood on, we never saw him, and his identity was entirely concealed,” Oprah said sadly. Both women were crying.

  “Well, you must have given him one hell of a fight,” Denzel said to Orprah. “You both have some serious contusions and abrasions, and some minor lacerations,” Denzel said, “and possibly concussions.”

  LL Cool J ran back into the parlor saying, “There’s no sign of Mrs. Washington in any of the upstairs room, or downstairs. It looks like she was…taken.”

  It was at just this moment, after several days riding, that George Washington arrived at Mount Vernon. He rushed inside to find the four slaves in the ransacked parlor.

  “My God, what has happened?” Washington asked after seeing the breakage and overturned furniture inside. The slaves were both surprised and relieved to see him, and Beyonce ran over and hugged Washington.

  “Massah Wash-ton! Beyonce said. “A tall man broked into da house an kidnapp’d Missus Wash-ton las night!” Beyonce cried, tears still streaming down her face. “He done took her to god knows where! Me an Oprah, we tried to fights him off, but he done kicked Oprah in the head like a mule, and den he punched me in da face like Muhamud Ali!”

  “Lordy me, but dats the gods honest truth,” Oprah said. “So help me Jeezus!”

  “Do you know who he was?” Washington asked excitedly.

  “Nossir, Nossir!” Beyonce replied. “He wuz wearin a dark blue hood, so his face was hid. We never did sees what he look’d like.”

  Just then they heard a horse and rider come up to the house and they could see through the parlor window that it was a messenger. Washington rushed outside to meet him and was followed by all his slaves.

  “I have a message for General Washington,” the young messenger boy atop the horse said.

  “I am he,” George Washington replied, after which the young man handed him a small white envelope. Washington opened the letter and found this simple message:

  Should you wish Mrs. Washington returned, alive, you shall accompany this messenger to a location of our choosing, where you shall be given instructions by which she may be returned to you. You shall come entirely unarmed. Failure to comply will result in the immediate execution of Mrs. Washington as a traitor under British Law.

  “I’m leaving immediately,” Washington said to his slaves. “See to the operation of the estate until my return.” Washington threw his sword and pistol upon the ground.

  “Of course, Sir,” Oprah replied.

  The young boy spurred his horse forward and Washington rode right beside him. The boy told Washingt
on that he, too, was a patriot, but the British had threatened his family with death unless he served as a British messenger.

  Washington was not angry with the young man, whose name was Fedex, but instead was focused on using all his military and martial arts skills in the task of recovering his wife. They had ridden for only a few miles before Washington asked, “Are you going to tell me where were going?”

  “We’re going to the Natural Bridge,” the boy replied, much to Washington’s surprise.

  The Natural Bridge was a gigantic, limestone arch carved out over tens of thousands of years by the flowing waters of Cedar Creek in Virginia. It stood over 200 feet high and over 90 feet wide. It was a most impressive formation, sacred to local Indians and a natural American wonder on par with Niagara Falls.

  As a young man, Washington had surveyed the entire countryside around the Natural Bridge and had seen it many times. He had even climbed up the side of the arch and carved his initials into the stone. His friend Jefferson had later purchased the property and had built a small cabin there, usually unoccupied, as a place of reflection and relaxation.

  It was a journey of about 150 miles which was made in a few short days. Washington and the messenger arrived at the isolated, creek side spot just after sunset, finding a single torch lit on the ground near the center of the arch. The messenger boy remained in place as Washington rode up to the torch. He dismounted his horse when he saw something on the ground reflecting in the torchlight.

  Bending over and picking it up, Washington saw that it was one of his wife’s bracelets, intended as proof the kidnappers still held her. In the distance, beyond the arch, Washington could see a single man several yards away sitting upon a horse. The man was wearing a dark blue coat and wore a blue hood with the lower half of his face wrapped as well, concealing his identity.

  “I trust you now believe we have taken Mrs. Washington?” the hooded man asked.

  “I do,” Washington replied. “Now, I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what you want. But I do know I have a very special set of skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. “

  The man in the blue hood remained silent.

  “If you give me back Mrs. Washington now, that will be the end of it,” George Washington said as he felt his anger rising. “I will not look for you and I will not pursue you. But if you don’t, I will look for you, I will find you…and I will fuck you up!”

  There was a long pause before the man replied: “Good luck.”

  In that moment, George Washington resolved that, if it took the rest of his life, this man would die.

  “As for what we want,” the hooded man explained, “we propose a simple surrender and prisoner exchange. You will proceed to Yorktown and order your Continental Army to lay down its arms and surrender. Then you shall present yourself as prisoner to General Cornwallis by our appointed day and hour. After which, your wife shall be released, and you will be tried as a traitor, found guilty, and executed.”

  “I’m supposed to just surrender the entire Continental Army?” Washington asked. “You want me to betray my own country, my soldiers, and my oath?”

  “Surrendering your army is no betrayal!” the hooded man shot back angrily. “The true betrayal was in opposing the British and in violating your oath of loyalty to the king!”

  “I do not agree,” Washington replied.

  “And you don’t have to agree,” the hooded man replied. “You will simply surrender, or your wife will die. That is certain, unless you comply. My only question to you is…do we have an agreement?”

  “I shall return to the Continental Army,” Washington stated. “And then I shall present myself to General Cornwallis, personally.”

  “Good,” the hooded man said. “I shall inform General Cornwallis. There will be a message sent to your army regarding the date and time of your surrender.”

  “And after that,” Washington said glaring at the masked man. “You and I will have a score to settle.”

  “I look forward to that, General,” the hooded man laughed, before riding off into the darkness.

  Chapter 65

  George Washington’s Final Plan to Win the War

  Now was the time of the true testing of George Washington as a General, and as a man. To save his wife, he was being forced to surrender the Continental Army to the British, which he knew he could not do. But if he did not betray his own army, he would be sacrificing his own wife to traitorous execution, which he also could not allow. Ever the tactician, George Washington had now devised his boldest plan of action. It would take skill and timing and a little luck, but it just might work.

  Taking a small lead pencil and a scrap of paper from his coat at the Natural Bridge after the hooded man had departed, Washington scribbled a note, folded it carefully and handed it to the messenger boy.

  “Fedex,” Washington asked sternly. “Can you take this back to Mount Vernon and give it to the slaves you saw me with when you arrived?”

  “I can, General,” the young lad said, smiling proudly.

  “You must make it there at any cost.” Washington implored. “The entire Revolution may hinge upon the plan of action contained herein.”

  “Fedex will make a timely delivery,” the lad replied. “You may count on it, Sir.”

  “Very well, then,” Washington said confidently. “Ride on!”

  The young lad spurred his horse forward with a great yell and rode quickly off into the moonlit night.

  Washington mounted his own horse again and headed in the direction of Yorktown, Virginia. It was a journey of several days, nearly 170 miles, a trip made slower by near constant rain. But the clouds broke just as he arrived at Yorktown, and Washington arrived to find his army in hot pursuit of the British.

  The English were in a state of excited retreat and were being pressured mightily by the Continental Army. They fled into Yorktown as a last resort. Washington directed all columns to close in upon the city, which was heavily fortified and ringed by a series of trenches, redoubts and defensive earthworks. The advance of the army was slow, and was finally impeded just outside of Yorktown, where Washington’s troops began to dig trenches of their own.

  The initial action of the Continental Army was going to be a siege of Yorktown. In military terms, the city would be surrounded and enclosed, allowing no supplies or persons to enter or leave. American troops outside the city would spend each day digging and clawing into the earth, expanding their trenches, inching forward every day, closer and closer to the enemy lines.

  Washington now commanded a total of nearly 20,000 troops in the field, nearly 10,000 regulars, 5,000 militia, and nearly 5,000 French soldiers as well. Though the French proved better at eating cheese than fighting in the field, they still brought bodies to the fight. In terms of fit-for-duty soldiers, Washington actually outnumbered the British, who were also noticing a distinct rise in the daily numbers of their own deserting soldiers. For the very first time, and at long last, things were finally looking bleak for the British.

  Washington summoned his aide and former slave Reebock from the field, along with several of his generals. To the Generals, Washington explained his upcoming plan of attack.

  The plan was to have the Continental troops dig closer and closer to the British lines and then have the Continental and French armies attack a single point together. It was a sound plan, and seemed to have a fair chance of success.

  Washington knew this attack would be one of the most difficult his army had ever attempted. Lacking an ample supply of zombies in the field, the British would primarily use living soldiers in this battle, heavily armed and fighting for their lives. Redcoats in such a state would be very difficult to defeat. But Washington had a plan for this also.

  After briefing his Generals on his main plan of attack, Washington stood in his headquarters alone with his friend and ex-slave, Reebock. Washington explained his secondary plan to Reebock, who was less than enthused.

  “So you have just insp
ected the THREE wagons that arrived here by your request from Mount Vernon?” Reebock asked.

  “That is correct,” Washington replied.

  “And you want ME to take those wagons out tonight …where?” Reebock asked.

  “Here,” Washington replied, pointing to the map on the table before them. “Down the Old Mill Road.”

  “But that’s right next to the British lines!” Reebock exclaimed.

  “Right,” Washington said.

  “We will almost certainly be captured!” Reebock exclaimed.

  “That’s the idea,” Washington stated. “I want you, and all the wagons, captured,” he added.

  “Oh, MON!” Reebok exclaimed in his deepest Jamaican accent, which still manifested itself when he grew excited. “I thought you were supposed to be some kinda great general? There GOTS to be some better plan than letting me and all the wagons get captured!”

  “If you have a better plan,” Washington said, “I would love to hear it.

  Reebock was silent.

  “Dis’ is bullshit!” Reebock said at last. “But if I’m ordered to go tomorrow, I guess I have to go.”

  “No,” Washington said. “No,” he repeated. “This is NOT an order. This request is far above and beyond the call of duty. And I shall not order you to do this.”

  “I see,” said Reebock.

  “I am asking you to do this,” George Washington said simply.

  There was a long, long pause.

  “Oh, fuck me!” Reebock replied finally. “I’ll do it. If I gotta die, it might as well be like this!”

  Washington shook Reebock’s hand and thanked him graciously.

  “And what about you, mon?” Reebock asked as he watched Washington change into his black ninja outfit once more. “Where are you going?”