Z Force 1: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Infection Chronicles Book 2)

by Tripp Ellis

  “He always tried to cheat anyway,” McKay said.

  “How far away did he live?” Steele asked.

  “About a mile up the road.”

  “How far is the closest town?”

  “It’s 25 miles into the Walmart. I only got maybe a half dozen neighbors.”

  “Less than that now,” Delroy said.

  Steele knelt down and scooped up Duke’s body. He cradled his lifeless corpse in his arms.“Let’s move out.”

  They climbed their way up the stairwell and exited the facility. The sun was already blistering in the midmorning sky. Steele led them through the fields, avoiding the proximity mines. They scaled the barb wire fence at the property line and marched back to the CAV.

  Parker, Susan, Chloe, and Brandi were waiting for them—their faces bathed in worry. The back ramp was down and they were trying to stay cool.

  Brandi still didn’t show a trace of infection. Her eyes widened and slicked over when she saw Steele carrying Duke’s body. She ran down the back ramp, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was a basket case.

  Earl tried to comfort her. “He saved the president’s life.”

  Steele set Duke’s body on the ground.

  “Since when did he get brave?” Brandi sobbed. “Dumb son-of-a-bitch never did anything for anybody but himself.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss, ma’am.” Johnson said. He meant it too. It wasn’t some empty platitude.

  “He was a bastard. But he was my bastard.” She wiped her eyes and sniffled.

  “We need to give him a proper burial,” Earl said.

  “There’s no time,” Steele said. “Delroy, get a body bag from the CAV. We’ll take him with us, and give him a proper send off later.”

  Susan rushed to greet the president. Her eyes bulged at the sight of his bruises. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine.”

  “It looks worse than it feels.”

  “Liar,” Susan said.

  “Have you ever known me to lie?”

  “On, or off, the campaign trail?”

  Chloe ran down the ramp and leapt into Steele’s arms. “I’m glad you’re back, Major.”

  “I’m glad to be back.”

  “I think she was getting a little worried about you,” Parker said.

  “Was not,” Chloe said. “Steele can handle himself.”

  “She was wanting to start a rescue mission,” Parker said.

  Steele raised an eyebrow at Chloe.

  She shrugged. “I didn’t want to have to come and save you, but if I had too…”

  Parker and Steele chuckled.

  “Next time, you should bring me with you. Babysitting wasn’t my MOS.” It was short for Military Occupational Specialty.

  “Oh, so you were babysitting us?” Parker asked.

  Chloe nodded.

  “And what exactly was your MOS?” Steele asked.

  “Well, I was in Princess training, obviously.” She gave him a sassy look. “But now, I’ll just have to settle for bad ass.”

  Steele smiled at her. The kid had spunk, even when things were at their worst. She didn’t seem to let anything bother her. Ever.

  “Load up, people,” Steele commanded. “We’ve got places to be.”

  “Major,” McKay said. “It’s been an honor to serve with you, sir.” He gave Steele a sharp salute.

  “You’re more than welcome to come with us.”

  “This is where I belong. Don’t you worry. Me and Buddy will be just fine.”

  Buddy barked in agreement.

  “I’ll take care of Duke’s burial, if that’s alright with you folks?”

  Steele glanced to Earl and Brandi. They nodded in agreement.

  “You know what might be coming, right?” Steele asked.

  “This is my home. I ain’t leaving.” McKay shrugged. “I look at every day like a gift. And I’ve already been given more than my share. If the world is coming to an end, I want to be right here.”

  Steele nodded. Then he snapped to attention and saluted. “The honor was mine, Gunny.”

  Steele climbed up the ramp and marched into the cockpit. Brandi and Earl paid their final respects to Duke, then filed into the CAV. The ramp closed, and a few moments later, Steele lifted the CAV off the ground.

  Gunnery Sergeant Boyd McKay, and his dog Buddy, soon became a dot on the tortured landscape. The mesquite trees and prickly pears shrank as the CAV roared toward Black Rock.

  The greater Houston area was comprised of nine Counties, including the Woodlands, and Sugar Land. As of the 2030 census, the total population was 9.25 million people.

  9.25 million possibly infected.

  Steele flew over the city. Hordes of infected swarmed the streets. He hadn’t seen anything like it since the early days of the quarantine zone. Rivers of staggering lurkers, flowing over the roadways like ants.

  The Black Rock facility was located in the warehouse district. It was underneath a dilapidated building. The windows were shattered, the brick was crumbling. It was covered in graffiti and littered with garbage. It was all part of the subterfuge. No one would expect a derelict building like that to house one of the most advanced emergency operations centers in the country.

  The streets and alleyways surrounding the building were full of infected. Steele made several strafing runs, lighting them up with X-27 rockets.

  Mangled body parts scattered with each blast. The explosions pocked and cratered the roadway. Blood painted the streets, the brick walls of warehouses, and the loading docks. Hundreds of lurkers were reduced to scorched chunks of flesh and ash.

  After he had thinned the herd, Steele looked for a good place to set the CAV down. The Metro bus depot was a perfect landing field. Wide-open tarmac. It was full of hundreds of buses that would never again see service.

  The area was surrounded by a chain-link fence. There were maybe a handful of stragglers within the perimeter—nothing that couldn’t be handled with ease.

  Steele landed the CAV in the lot. He climbed out of the cockpit and lowered the back ramp. The team filed out. Parker blasted every lurker within the compound in a matter of seconds.

  Steele looked at her, a little surprised.

  “Hey, you guys been having all the fun,” Parker said. “A girl’s got to get a little action too.” She winked.

  A lascivious grin curled up on Delroy’s face. “If it’s action you need, Parker…”

  “Not in this lifetime, Delroy.” Parker gave a thin smile back.

  The bus depot wasn’t going to be the problem. But on the other side of the fence, lurkers were already starting to regroup. Smoke was still wafting through the air from the X-27 missiles. Yet more lurkers were filling the streets. The explosions only served to draw the attention of more infected.

  A crowd pressed up against the chain-link fence, snarling and growling. Hands and fingers groped through the holes in the links.

  The depot wasn’t far from the Black Rock facility. Hop the fence, and it was maybe a 20 yard dash. But climbing over the fence would be problematic. It looked like they were going to have to go around to the main exit. That would force them to march three blocks through an ever growing number of ghouls. But the longer they waited, the more there would be.

  Steele preferred a more direct method. “We’re going to clear a straight path with thermal grenades. Our destination is that access door on the loading dock.” Steele pointed at a rusty door with peeling paint. Crooked metal steps led up to the loading dock. “We’ll start in a wedge formation, with Chloe, Susan, Brandi, and the president taking cover behind. Once we’re through the fence Earl will circle around and cover the rear. Understood?”

  They all nodded.

  Steele grabbed a thermal grenade from his tactical vest. Parker and Delroy followed suit. Steele activated the device and tossed it to the fence. Parker threw hers several feet behind Steele’s. Delroy threw his closer to the loading dock. Then the team duck
ed for cover behind the CAV.

  A few seconds later, a succession of blasts rocked the area. A section of the chain-link fence was incinerated. Bodies were scattered about. Shrapnel tore through flesh. S9 gel seared flesh and bone. The sea of lurkers parted.

  Steele and the squad raced toward the newly made pathway. The air filled with the rattle of gunfire and the acrid smell of charred flesh. Bullets peppered lurkers, keeping the pathway clear. The team sprinted through the fence, toward the loading dock. Despite their best efforts, the path between the lurkers narrowed as more of them flooded in. Snarling ghouls closed in on them from all angles.

  It was amazing how fast you could go through a 30 round magazine. Steele pressed the mag release button, dropped the magazine, and clicked in another one. His finger squeezed the trigger, unleashing another flurry of bullets. Ghoulish heads burst. Blood splattered everywhere.

  Steele reached down and picked up Chloe, cradling her under his arm like a football. He fired the RK 709 one-handed as he launched up the metal steps.

  Atop the loading dock, the swarm of lurkers was thinner. But still more than enough. Steele blasted dozens of them, then sprinted toward the rusty metal door. Several more infected blocked his path. He aimed the rifle and squeezed the trigger. The last bullet in the magazine burst out, shattering a lurker’s skull. But another lurker was almost on top of him.

  He didn’t have time to set Chloe down and reload. The others were too busy with troubles of their own. Steele tossed the rifle to the ground. Then he swung his hand behind his head, reaching for his tactical sword.

  Vicious teeth plunged toward his flesh.

  Steele gripped the handle and unsheathed the blade. But before he could hack the creature to shreds, Chloe blasted its skull with a 9mm round.

  Steele looked down at her, impressed.

  “Where would you be without me, Major?”

  Steele grinned and set her down on the dock. He sliced through a few nearby lurkers, then kicked in the rusty metal door.

  Inside the warehouse, there were a few stragglers. But nothing like the horde that was outside. Steele pulled Chloe inside, and the others followed behind. They slammed the door behind them and tried to bolster it shut.

  Parker blasted the lurkers in the warehouse. Delroy and Earl tried to keep the door shut as the horde slammed against it.

  Steele led Chloe, Susan, Brandi, and the president to an elevator shaft in the center of the building. It was an old freight elevator, and didn’t look too safe. It looked like it hadn’t been used since the early 1900s. But that was all part of the disguise. It was just a platform with a metal gate that slid up, vertically. The elevator led down 60 feet to the EOC entrance. Steele lifted the access door and they stepped inside. Steele called out for Delroy and Earl.

  They were still trying to fend off the horde at the door. It took everything they had just to keep it shut. Once they let go, the infected would flood in like a dam bursting.

  “You ready?” Delroy asked.

  “You go,” Earl said. “I’ll hold them off till you get there.”

  “You can’t hold them off by yourself.”

  “Give me some credit. I’m stronger than I look.”

  “We go together, or we don’t go,” Delroy said. “Nobody get’s left behind.”

  Earl reluctantly agreed.

  “On three. Okay? One… two… three…”

  Delroy let go of the door and raced for the elevator. But he noticed Earl hadn’t followed. He was still at the door, doing his best to keep it shut.

  “Earl, come on,” Delroy yelled.

  “Go, I’m right behind you.”

  Suddenly the door flung open, knocking Earl to the ground.

  Lurkers piled in through the doorway. Their snarls echoed off the concrete walls. Craggy hands grasped at Earl. Vicious teeth gnashed at his flesh.

  Delroy blasted a few lurkers before they could sink their teeth into Earl’s skin.

  Earl scrambled to his feet and sprinted away. But one of the infected clasped his shirt.

  Delroy took aim and fired. The bullet ripped past Earl’s ear and shattered the lurker’s skull. Blood exploded, coating the back of Earl’s head. He took off running as fast as he could.

  Delroy kept firing, trying to hold off the swarm. He waited for Earl to reach him, then they raced to the elevator. They leapt inside, and Steele slammed the access door shut.

  Infected teeth gnashed at the gate as the elevator descended toward the EOC.

  33

  This was going to be the moment of truth for Brandi Leigh.

  The freight elevator squealed to a halt at the bottom of the shaft. Steele raised the access door and the team filed out.

  A massive blast door protected the compound. It was accessible through a biometric identification system similar to the nuclear football. Fingerprint pad, retinal scan, and voice print authorization.

  Johnson went through the procedure and the hefty door slid open. A slight gust of wind rushed out. The facility had positive pressure airflow to minimize the possibility of airborne contaminants entering.

  Sequential access chambers were standard protocol for all recently constructed EOCs. The first area was a decontamination chamber, complete with personal shower. It was extremely useful for washing off radioactive material, or other biologic or chemical agents.

  A second door sealed the airlock. It could only be opened after decontamination protocols were followed. And only after the main door was shut. The system monitored and filtered airborne contaminants. It cross-referenced a database of known threats.

  Once the air was clean, each occupant had to pass a three step diagnostic evaluation—retinal scan, breath analysis, and blood screening. A personal diagnostic station handled this procedure with surprising efficiency. Only after every occupant of the airlock was cleared would access be granted to the facility.

  Steele was already anticipating that he might have to force Brandi out of the airlock. But she hadn’t turned yet, nor did she show any signs of infection. But still, it was likely that she was somehow infected. If it came down to it, Steele figured she would be safe enough outside the main door by the freight elevator. The only way infected could get down this far was if they figured out how to open the access gate to the stairwell. And then it would be a very long plunge to the bottom.

  “Brandi, go first,” Steele said.

  “Why me?”

  “Because once the main door opens, we’ve got to start the decontamination process all over again.”

  “So, I fail the test, you’re gonna shove me outside with those things?”

  “No choice.”

  “This is bullshit.” She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said, acquiescing. Then she stepped to the diagnostic machine. The device recognized her presence and began the process.

  Please stand still while I initiate a retinal scan, the device said in a soothing female voice.

  Steele watched with rapt attention.

  Retinal scan complete.

  A mouthpiece emerged from a slot on the machine. It was connected to a corrugated oxygen tube. The machine sterilized the mouth port between each usage.

  Please blow into the mouthpiece for five seconds, until you hear the beep.

  “Try not to get too excited boys.” Brandi grabbed the tube and wrapped her luscious lips around the mouthpiece. She arched her ass out and took a deep breath. Every guy in the airlock felt their pulse rise—their eyes glued to Brandi’s lips as she blew.

  Earl gulped.

  Parker and Susan looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

  Please place your hand on the palm pad. A microscopic needle punctured the skin and took a blood sample. It was completely painless.

  Thank you, the device said. Please wait while I analyze your data.

  “Is that it?” Brandy asked.

  Steele nodded.

  She stepped back from the device. Her worried eyes stared at the display screen, waiting for the
results. The diagnostic station was linked to the network. It was able to match DNA to the national database and identify the subject. From birth to death, every citizen was meticulously tracked, and their information was permanently stored in the central database.

  It only took a few seconds, but it seemed like hours for the device to return an evaluation. Subject, Brandy Leigh Vaughan. Clear.

  Brandi exhaled deeply. A beauty queen smile beamed across her face. Her brilliant white teeth gleamed. Her eyes sparkled. “Told y’all mother fuckers. I’m not infected.”

  She looked at the display screen. It gave a readout of other vital statistics. Heart rate, blood pressure, HDL and LDL cholesterol, blood sugar, and a slew of other blood markers. Her eyes went wide as she looked it over. “Holy shit, y’all. I’m pregnant. How the hell did that happen?”

  “Do you need me to give you a lesson about the birds and the bees?” Delroy said.

  “I know how it happens. I ain’t that stupid.”

  “Were on a time schedule, people,” Steele barked. “Next.”

  By all rights, Brandi should have been infected. Steele had never met anyone who had survived a bite. There could have been any number of reasons why she was immune to infection. Steele wasn’t a scientist. He wasn’t going to pretend to speculate. But he knew this girl was special. That something, either in her blood, or in her DNA, gave her immunity. If human kind was going to survive, this southern beauty queen might very well be the key.

  One by one, they all went through the process. Everyone turned up clear of infection. Everyone except Susan.

  It was a shock to everyone. Jaws dropped, and faces went pale.

  “Run the test again,” Johnson said.

  She ran the test two more times, but the results didn’t change.

  “I don’t understand, how is this possible?” Johnson asked. “There must be something wrong with the system.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the system,” Susan said. Her expression was bleak. “I’m infected. I haven’t felt right since Fort Ramsey.” A wave of regret washed over her face. “I was trying to attribute it to stress and exhaustion. I put all of you in danger. For that, I apologize.”

  Steele was crestfallen. He had started to like Susan. And there was a palpable spark between them.