The young man grabbed the bags and hurried outside to where Mandy was already waiting for him. Craig walked to the door and turned off the lights as he exited the apartment. He jogged quickly to the waiting SUV. Theo had pulled the vehicle out of the covered parking area and drove the vehicle to the grassy area next to his rental car. Mandy sat in the rear seat on the driver’s side. The gold SUV rolled slowly towards Craig; Mandy reached across the backseat and opened the passenger side door. Craig slid in and sat in silence as the SUV slowly exited the parking lot and merged onto the almost empty highway, travelling in the opposite direction of the production facility.
The frightened residents of the Fountain Crest Apartments looked out cautiously from behind partially opened doors. The scene of destruction that had visited them so early this Saturday morning would be forever etched in the minds of those that had witnessed it firsthand. Multiple nine-one-one calls had already been made as sirens wailed in the distance.
The sun had not made itself completely visible in the light gray sky above, but it peeked out ever so cleverly from behind the pre-dawn clouds as if inspecting the carnage below. As if it had decided the time was now right, the magnificent yellow orb ascended into its rightful place in the sky; its bright rays of light illuminated the horrific scene below for the first police and medical professionals that arrived on the scene.
Interlude
April 11, 2013: Thursday, 5:48 AM – South of Labboune, Lebanon – A small outpost on the Israeli side of the border…
During the first two weeks of April, multiple unconfirmed reports circulated amongst Israeli intelligence groups that a number of “infected” Lebanese civilians had been spotted crossing the border. Additional intel from Israeli spies located in Lebanon, indicated that a plague of some sort had inundated random villages on the southern tip of Lebanon causing madness and violence in its victims.
With other countries reporting similar sporadic infectious outbreaks, the Israeli government felt compelled to act. They sent a company of soldiers to secure the area to ensure that no one illegally entered their country, especially those posing considerable health risks to the Israeli people. Approximately two kilometers from the main Israeli base camp, Corporal Maya Ferber and Private Joseph Cohen had been tasked by their Captain with patrolling a small patch of land just south of Labboune on the Israeli side of the border.
“It looks like we have movement,” Joseph said in broken English. While Joseph preferred to speak his native tongue of Hebrew, he had been practicing his English while on patrol.
“I see something,” Maya responded.
The two soldiers promptly crouched behind a small stone wall that bared the craterous scars of bullets and explosions from past encounters between the two countries. Maya peered over the wall and readied her weapon. Both soldiers had been instructed prior to the beginning of their patrol to “observe and report” suspicious activity back to the base camp. Joseph tugged at Maya’s fatigues and motioned for her to lower her weapon. She sat back against the wall; her face had turned anemic – void of most of its usual color.
“There are so many of them,” Maya shakily said in Hebrew.
Joseph had never seen Maya so spooked. She was his superior officer and had years of training with the Mossad prior to joining the military unit that they now both served in. She had been involved in many “unsubstantiated” incursions into Lebanon on fact finding missions – that was the main reason she was reassigned to this base camp. Her knowledge of the areas close to the Lebanese border had provided valuable information to her superiors.
Joseph gathered his wits and stood up slightly as he peered over the remnants of a once proud stone edifice. The early morning sun began to crest in the eastern sky; its powerful rays not yet fully realized, minimally highlighted the field in front of the young man. He could see what had frightened his experienced partner. In the distance, maybe two hundred yards from his current position, a surging billowy mass of the infected wandered with no particular destination. A mass of human flesh of untold numbers had entered into Israel.
“Recon Unit to base camp, come in please,” Joseph said into his shoulder-mounted radio. “We have visual confirmation of the infirmed intruders.” Joseph wanted to call the uninvited guests by the name the internet had labeled them as – “Zombies” but he thought better of it.
“We have your location noted by the GPS receiver that you are wearing,” a dry, monotone voice replied. “How many are there?”
Joseph glanced over to Maya who only shrugged in response. Neither of them had any way to know the exact numbers. Joseph pressed the talk button on his radio and responded: “Too many to count, I would say well over three hundred.”
“Do not engage the hostiles. Track their movements - reinforcements are heading towards your location.”
Maya and Joseph tracked the “invaders” for nearly twenty minutes when the roaring engines of three dark green and light tan military vehicles arrived on scene. Ten shock troops exited the vehicles outfitted in silvery flame resistant suits. On their backs they supported a backpack comprised of three cylindrical tubes – two tubes of fuel and one tube filled with high-pressured propellant. For balanced support of the heavy gear, a leather strap ran across their waists to securely fasten the backpack in place. From a main valve on the bottom edge of the backpack, the fuel source was connected via a thick rubber hose to a large metal tube with a handle and trigger. Each soldier lowered their silver colored helmet to protect their heads; their faces now covered with a thick black visor. In eerie unison, the fire squad clicked their flamethrowers to life; a small yellow-blue flame danced at the end of each of their barrels.
The Israeli troops surrounded the mass of infected Lebanese rounding them up like cowboys in the old west herding horses to stable. Maya and Joseph watched as streaming flames of liquid engulfed the mindless infected. Thick black smoke covered the area, the smell of burning flesh wafted downwind to the two soldier’s current position. They watched in horror as the shock troops did their job; both soldiers knew it was the right thing to do to keep the plague or whatever it was from spreading into Israel.
“News” of the Israeli massacre of hundreds of unarmed Lebanese people quickly spread throughout the Arab dominated Middle East. Lebanon cried out for help from her Middle Eastern neighbors to thwart the aggression of the Jews. The state sponsored news outlets failed to mention even the slightest bit of information regarding the “condition” of those citizens that were “cleansed”. The propaganda machines maliciously spun and twisted the reports to such a degree that by the time the average Arab citizen had heard the news – Israel was guilty of passing into Lebanese territory and slaughtering close to five hundred innocent civilians including over one hundred school children.
Iran stoked the fires of hatred throughout the region to unite support for their proposed retribution. For years Iran had held mock tests of its rocket capabilities. Western countries had imposed strict sanctions on Iran to force them to cease and desist from their nuclear operations. However, Iran refused to stop developing their technology. What gave the West the right to tell them how to run their country? The leaders of Iran used the massacre of the Lebanese citizens at the hands of the Jewish oppressors to justify the use of their recently acquired nuclear capabilities.
Iran responded in anger by launching three tactical nukes at their hated foe during the last week of April. This action was not endorsed by the other Arab nations. Even though the whole region was infuriated by the recent actions of Israel, the Arab nations understood that any use of nuclear weapons would be detrimental to the entire area; they also fully recognized the fact that Israel would vehemently defend herself from any aggressive action. Iran acted alone in its final decision to launch its weapons of mass destruction; a proverbial spark was tossed into the powder keg of cultural hate and regional instability that had been building for centuries...
The first pair of Iranian missiles was launched obliterating two diff
erent cities in Israel killing untold thousands of people instantly. Unfortunately for Iran, their third and final missile malfunctioned; the weapon prematurely detonated above their capital city of Tehran mere seconds after launch. The debacle killed upwards of eighty thousand people during the initial blast. Israel retaliated with extreme prejudice targeting a plethora of “first strike” targets throughout the Arab world; the Middle East became hell on Earth.
From the safety of their distant homelands, the rest of the world watched in abject horror as the tragic conclusion to the centuries old hatred of the Jews unfolded before their very eyes. The blackened landscape lay mortally wounded; the Holy Land cried out for forgiveness, but their prayers fell on deaf ears…
During the months following the nuclear attacks in the Middle East, life progressively worsened as other countries were exposed to the “plague” of the twenty-first century. As scientist futilely raced to uncover the root cause, governments strived to control the pandemic. Extreme militant measures were used once the general public was able to accept what was happening, but by that time it was far too late – the pandemic had taken an undeniable foothold in almost every country. At first the plague was referred to in hushed silence as the “zombie pandemic” but the mainstream populations vehemently refused to accept this nomenclature.
Sure, many people had seen movies or read books about the undead or zombies taking over the world, but these same folks – once presented with the very real face-to-face evidence of such a debacle occurring, refused to piece it all together. In the early months, the denial of such a condition allowed the infected to roam freely and contaminate others. Tens of thousands of people became infected each week. What started as small pockets of infected soon turned into full cities being quarantined by the military to control egress and entrance into those dying cities.
It is now early winter 2013 - almost nine months have passed since the initial zombie attacks that began in Colombia, South America. The world is a horrifyingly different place now. The zombie plague has raced across six of the seven continents like the bubonic plague that paralyzed Europe more than five centuries past. Nothing could have prepared the nations of the world for the speed at which the infection spread throughout the population.
Government containment policies failed to control the zombie pandemic. Contingency plans were never conceived to deal with such a dynamic threat. Martial law and curfews were declared throughout the world. Most citizens did as instructed but the disease followed its own orders. The zombies roamed freely; the laws of man were meaningless to the undead.
Many once powerful governments evacuated their seats of power and moved underground with only minimal support staff. The consensus of the high-ranking political figures and their scientists was that the undead plague would burn itself out eventually. These “experts” felt that within six months, the plague would be over and then governments could return to clean up the aftermath and rebuild their nations.
The vestigial governments that did not go underground failed their people miserably. Court systems, organized military, law enforcement and hospitals became almost completely useless without the professionals that once staffed them. Military regiments continued to exist in small pockets, some remaining loyal to their native government, while some went rogue - operating for their own personal self-interests.
Now the vast majority of the world hides in the shadows as chaos reigns around the globe. Industrialized nations have been brought to their knees, now eye-to-eye with third-world countries. These once rich nations no longer protect nor provide for their surviving citizens. Economic epicenters are bankrupt; money has no value; food, medicine and weapons are now the currency of choice.
Familiar cityscapes weep silently, shadows of their former glory. These once bustling metropolitan areas stand idly by - no longer able or willing to greet anyone with their burned out neon signs. Interstate systems that once connected all the major cities of the world are clogged with wrecked and abandoned vehicles, like plaque-hardened arteries from a dead heart.
The once bountiful breadbaskets of the world rot with no one to tend them. Easily accessible food is a luxury of the past. Survivors must move from town to town in search of canned goods and other nutrients to eke out a minimalistic existence. Fully functioning gardens are now guarded like Fort Knox of the past.
For the vast majority of the world, global communication systems no longer function. There are no fancy touch-screen cell phones, no GPS, no internet and no cable TV. Most of the world lives in darkness when the sun goes down – easily available electricity at the flick of a wall switch has almost become a thing of myth. A few government facilities located in only the once richest of industrialized nations still function but way below max capacity. Some forward thinking groups were minimally able to prepare for the collapse of their power and communications systems. This “preparedness” has allowed for limited electronic communication between small numbers of partially operational facilities.
The exact ratio of zombies to human survivors is unknown. The best estimate given by experts prior to the collapse of mainstream communication systems was that if the sickness continued to spread at its current rate – within six months, there would be two times as many undead as humans. Their mathematical calculations also stated that if the rate of infection continued unchecked, then within one year there would be no one left to give a damn about the math…
Chapter 18
December 2, 2013: Monday, 2:30 PM – the Greenwood farm just outside the city limits of Hot Springs, Arkansas - four days after the zombie attack at the barn…
The group stayed a few more days at the Greenwood farm. They buried Kevin in the backyard next to the gravesite of what they assumed was his old hunting dog based on a makeshift tombstone that read: “REX 1992: May he hunt forever in the pastures of Heaven”. The snow fell heavily and within hours the farmer’s new grave was almost completely covered.
During the preceding three days after the initial zombie attack at the barn, the men gathered up supplies from around the house and planned their trip to Maine; the rumored Mount Hope their final objective. Kara rested her foot and Nikki nursed both her baby and her head wound. James found some gas for the old four-door Impala. The car was definitely not “eco-friendly” but it was spacious and had a working heater and sure the hell beat walking. The trunk was filled with canned food and various toiletries such as toothpaste, toothbrushes, toilet paper and other necessities taken for granted prior to the zombie plague.
After double checking all the supplies, Corbin closed the trunk and entered the driver side of the car firing up the powerful V8 engine. Nikki gingerly placed Megan next to her in the back seat. Kara hopped around to the other side of the car. The vehicle’s interior began to warm up and soon all passengers in the cavernous backseat were asleep. James opened the passenger door and entered the car. Corbin backed the car out from under the carport and drove towards the little town for additional supplies. James watched the farm fade into the distance in the passenger side mirror. The sun shone brightly but the temperature hovered just below freezing.
The drive into the “big city” was uneventful. Corbin drove very slowly on the icy roads. They did not need this vehicle to break down; there was no way they could travel on foot in temperatures like this. Both Corbin and James scoured the landscape looking for any signs of human activity or for the undead. Neither presented themselves. Deer bounded to and fro on the sides of the road, blissfully unaware of the peril facing the world.
“What do we need to get?” Corbin inquired.
“I think we have food covered for now,” James answered. “We need to find warm clothes and more ammo. I’m sure this hick town was full of red-neck hunters so let’s see if we can find a pawn shop or something.”
Corbin pulled the car into and old Shell gas station; he spoke to James as he eased the shifter into park. “We’ll need to find a few items for Megan as well – maybe some soft canned fruit and linens
that can be used as diapers.”
James responded only with a heavy sigh. Corbin knew that the vet considered the baby a liability. Did the old marine think that he and Nikki knew the zombie apocalypse was coming but decided to have a child anyway?
James reached gingerly into the back seat and nudged Kara. “Hey, sis, we are stopping for a minute. We are going to see if we can find anything of use here from this old gas station.” Kara woke and looked around; her ankle was feeling much better but was not completely healed.
“OK,” she said. “I’ll wake Nikki and we’ll keep an eye out for trouble. Corbin – would you leave the car running? The heat feels great!”
“Not a problem,” he said turning up the heat a bit. “If you see anything, ANYTHING at all – just yell and James and I will come right back.”
Driver and passenger exited the car closing the heavy doors gently. They headed single file past the out-of-order gas pumps. Most of the windows at the station were shattered either from rioting or maybe from bad weather. This gas station appeared to be a mechanics shop as well with the garage on the left side of the building. The garage door was wedged open, an old Ford truck stuck underneath, like prey caught in a giant monster’s mouth.
James nodded towards the garage. “I don’t like the looks of that. Who knows what might have crawled in there.”
Corbin nodded and the two men cautiously approached the opening. Corbin stood on the left edge while James was on the right. Again, Corbin marveled at how well the older man moved. James obviously kept up with most of his training and exercises that the military drilled into him over the years. Too bad he was still a dick.
Z1N1: The Zombie Pandemic: 2012 Was Just the Beginning Page 18
