Dead America The First Week (Book 1): Carolina Front

by Slaton, Derek

  DEAD AMERICA

  CAROLINA FRONT BOOK ONE

  BY DEREK SLATON

  © 2018

  CHAPTER ONE

  Day Zero +1, 4:00am EST

  “Yo, Kyle, you gotta get up, man,” Captain Terrell Graham demanded as he entered Captain Frank Kyle’s room in the Fort Bragg bunk house. His muscular, dark-skinned frame blotting out the hallway light like a solar eclipse.

  Frank slitted an eye enough to look at his watch and then groaned, flopping back into his bed. “Dude, how in the hell are you still functioning? We literally just landed four hours ago.”

  His bald friend shrugged. “Better question is how the hell have you still not learned you’re allowed to sleep on planes?” he teased.

  The horizontal dark-haired man threw an arm over his eyes. “Not everyone can be narcoleptic like you. I swear you could fall asleep during a death march.”

  “Come on Kyle,” Terrell smacked his friend’s feet, hard. “Sarge is waiting for us.”

  Frank groaned and dragged himself up, sitting on the edge of the bed and screwing his fists into his eyes. “I swear to god this had better be some end of the world shit.”

  “There’s that robust optimism we know and love,” the taller man declared with a grin and clapped his friend on the back as they left the room.

  Master Sergeant Charles Long was short and stout, but solid. He was known around the upper circles as fierce, strutting around with his crew cut and square shoulders. As the two Captains approached him that morning, however, he was not wearing his usual hard gaze.

  “Hey Sarge,” Terrell greeted, brow furrowing at the docile expression on his superior’s face. “You alright, man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Graham, Kyle, I know it’s early as hell, but you got a call,” Long replied.

  The bald man rolled his eyes. “The perils of being popular.”

  “So who did we impress this time?” Frank crossed his arms.

  “General Adams,” the Sergeant said.

  The Captains’ eyes nearly bugged out of their heads.

  “General Adams?” Frank gushed. “As in head of the Joint Chiefs General Adams?”

  Long nodded. “Yeah, that General Adams. So you may want to tuck your shirt in there, Kyle.”

  The younger man hastily tucked in his shirt, and ran his hand through his bedhead to attempt to smooth it down.

  “What’s he want with us?” Terrell demanded. “You’re our C.O.”

  Long shook his head. “Not anymore. I was just relieved of duty.”

  “What?!” the bald man scoffed. “Why in the hell would he do that? You’re the finest warrior in this entire damn outfit!”

  The Sergeant put his hands up. “I’ll let the General explain.”

  “We’re gonna fight for you, Sarge,” his subordinate promised.

  Long smiled sadly. “Terrell, it’s okay.” He clapped the stunned man on the back. “You guys better get in there. Time is a bit of a factor. I’ll be out here when you’re done.”

  Terrell nodded. “Alright, Sarge.”

  The two Captains entered the com room, and took a seat in front of the monitor, where there was a young female soldier on the screen.

  “Captain Graham and Captain Kyle?” she asked.

  Frank nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Please hold for the General,” she replied, and then the screen went blue, proudly displaying the defense logo.

  “What the hell is going on?” Terrell threw his hands up. “Why would they let Sarge go like that?”

  Frank shook his head. “No clue. Although I’m starting to think I jinxed us with my end of the world quip.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve done that,” his bald friend replied.

  The dark haired man rolled his eyes. “Man, how many times are you gonna make me apologize for that? How was I supposed to know that stripper was an assassin?”

  “I tell you what,” Terrell said and pointed to his shoulder, “you can stop apologizing when my scar heals.”

  The screen flickered and the broad-shouldered General Adams stood behind a much leaner and older man with graying hair.

  “Captains, thank you for the rapid response,” the General greeted, and the two younger soldiers stood and saluted him. “Please be seated.”

  “What can we do for you, General?” Frank asked.

  “Gentlemen, let me introduce John Teeter.” Adams put a hand on the seated man’s shoulder. “He’s a former analyst for us and he’s been brought back into the fold to help us deal with the current crisis. He’s going to be relaying a lot of the information since it’s his plan you are going to be implementing.”

  The older man in front gave a little wave. “Captains, it’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

  “Likewise, sir,” Terrell replied.

  “So I’ll get right into it,” John began. “A few hours ago, we confirmed that there was a successful bioterrorism attack that took place in Austin, Texas this past Saturday. The virus that was released is airborne and is spreading rapidly throughout the country, infecting anyone with A-type blood. Shortly after exposure, the victim presents with flu-like symptoms, and within seventy-two hours will succumb to it.”

  Frank leaned forward. “So we’re looking at a mass casualty event?”

  “That’s an understatement, Captain,” John replied. “Once the victim passes on, they reanimate within a matter of minutes and attack anyone within reach.”

  There was a moment of stunned silence.

  “Sir,” Terrell said slowly, and seemed to chew over his words before speaking. “I don’t know if we have a bad connection or not, but I swear you just told us that there is a zombie virus spreading throughout the nation.”

  Teeter nodded. “While we don’t have an official designation yet, zombie outbreak is an apt description of our current situation.”

  “Please tell me they are at least the Romero shamblers,” Frank piped up.

  Adams leaned over to the keyboard. “If this viral video is any indication, they are anything but.” He hit a few keys and a video feed popped up in the corner of the screen. It showed a cafeteria with a couple dozen students eating lunch, minding their own business.

  The doors burst open and a couple of zombies rushed inside, tackling screaming students to the ground and tearing at their flesh with their teeth and nails. A security guard opened fire to try to hit some of the attackers, but they wouldn’t fall, and quickly overwhelmed him. A heavily armed SWAT officer darted into frame and took down a few of the creatures with well-aimed headshots.

  “This was uploaded yesterday to social media,” Adams said. “It was captured at the University of Texas campus which is ground zero for the attack. As you can tell, nothing good is going on. These things are fast, vicious and durable.”

  “Those center mass hits from the security guard didn’t even slow them down.” Frank gaped.

  “Yeah, but rewind real quick,” Terrell said, and the General did so. “Little more, little more,” the bald man instructed. “There! That SWAT guy, watch his shots.”

  They paid close attention as the zombies hit in the head didn’t get back up.

  Frank pursed his lips. “Looks like headshots are the way to go.”

  “Headshots on a sprinting target,” Terrell said, “nothing like a challenge, huh?”

  “Sir, if you don’t mind me asking,” the dark haired Captain said, “how is this not national news yet? We landed just after midnight and there was nothing.”

  “In what may be the only break we’ve gotten today, the video went viral but was misidentified as leaks
from a new Hollywood blockbuster,” Adams explained. “Of course that story isn’t going to last too much longer.”

  Terrell nodded. “So how much time we go before this goes national?”

  “We are anticipating isolated cases in major cities throughout the night,” John piped up. “Our assumption is that infected people boarded flights on Saturday, which did a damn good job of spreading it around. Here on the east coast, most of the flights would have landed later in the evening, which limited their ability to infect many people. Of course, with church and football on Sunday those numbers grew exponentially.”

  “It’s four-thirty now, so realistically we have, what?” Frank asked. “Four, maybe five hours before the major cities become a war zone?”

  “That’s our most optimistic assessment as well,” Adams agreed. “Although to be perfectly honest, we have no idea what the situation on the ground will be when you land.”

  John swallowed hard. “I’m not familiar with what the Charlotte nightlife is like, but all it would take is a single person from that flight to go have a beer downtown to trigger a horde that is now roaming the streets.”

  “So you’re sending us to Charlotte?” Frank raised an eyebrow. “Ain’t that a bit risky given the population there?”

  “You’re absolutely correct, Captain Kyle,” Adams said. “But fate kind of forced our hand here.”

  “We’re game General,” Terrell declared. “What’s the plan?”

  “I’m assuming you boys have been in enough conflicts to know that the success of your mission hinges not only on your ability, but also the quality of the brainpower behind you,” John said. “I mean, not just having intelligent people crafting your intel, but the people who designed your guns, body armor, and so forth. You get a weak link in that chain and it’s bad news.”

  Frank nodded. “Truer words have never been spoken.”

  “This is a different type of war that nobody has ever planned for,” Teeter continued. “Our primary goal over the next forty-eight hours is to secure the brainpower that will be required to emerge victorious in this conflict. Which is why you are headed to Charlotte.

  “The National Engineering conference is in Charlotte this year, which plays host to some of the brightest minds in a number of engineering disciplines. Literally everything from computers to electrical to biomedical. If there’s an engineering field, one of the top minds is going to be there.”

  “Losing them would be a major setback to our war effort,” Adams added.

  Frank nodded. “How many people are we extracting?”

  “Not only that, but where exactly are we extracting them to?” Terrell cut in. “If we’re coming up against a full blown zombie outbreak, do we even have a fortified base strong enough to hold up?”

  “Well gentlemen, hope you like pro football, because their stadium is going to be your new home,” John replied, and the Captains shared a very concerned look. “You know this is a video conference, right? I can see your disapproving stares.”

  “Sorry, sir,” the two soldiers replied in unison.

  “Don’t be,” Teeter said, waving them off. “If I were in your shoes, I would have done the same damn thing. But allow me to alleviate your concerns. See, after nine-eleven, pretty much every building that had a capacity of more than twelve people got significant upgrades to their security. The barricades are state of the art and have the same standards as our embassies do. Nothing is getting through them. Plus, there is plenty of open space so that you can set up greenhouses.”

  “Greenhouses?” Terrell gaped. “How long are we going to be there?”

  “Gentlemen, I’m sorry, but I don’t have an answer for you.” John shook his head. “Could be three weeks, three months, or even three years. Right now our only goal is to preserve the manpower and brainpower we’re going to need to win this war. And in doing so, we are preparing for the worst case scenario, hence the greenhouses.”

  Adams leaned forward. “Captains, within the next hour, the order is going to be given for all non-infected troops nationwide to be evacuated. Your base is currently being notified of their new mission orders. Those close to ports are going to be moved out to sea, and those inland are being moved to sparsely populated heartland. This is a painful, albeit necessary move. If we mobilize our troops now, they will be overwhelmed and any chance of surviving this goes out the window.”

  Frank took a deep breath. “General, you don’t need to explain it to us. We understand.”

  “While you are securing the high value targets,” John said, “a single battalion at Fort Bragg will be procuring the raw materials you will need from the city and airlifting them to the stadium. There will also be a battle company in Charlotte that will be recruiting the necessary civilians to transform your new home into a functioning habitat. Farmers, mechanics, plumbers, et cetera.”

  Terrell put up a hand. “Sir, I have a suggestion, if I may.”

  “Please proceed, Captain Graham.” Adams nodded.

  “Unless I’m mistaken,” the bald man continued, “new recruits came onto base early Sunday morning. When I came here for basic, I had to go through Charlotte. If that’s still the case, then we could be looking at our own major outbreak in the next few hours.”

  Adams motioned and a soldier popped in from out of frame. He hissed instructions and the soldier darted off. The General turned back to the screen. “Just to be on the safe side, Captain, I’m alerting the base commander to lock down the infirmary immediately.”

  “I appreciate that sir,” Terrell replied, “but that wasn’t my intention for bringing it up. With your permission, I’d like for my team to stay behind for a couple of days to help secure materials for the Charlotte fortress. If all we have is a battalion of five hundred men, most of them are going to have to be devoted to fortifying the base, because its defenses aren’t equipped to handle thousands of potential zombies.”

  “Not to mention the influx of locals looking for shelter,” Frank added.

  John covered the mic and turned, murmuring and nodding with the General. Finally they turned back to the screen.

  “We concur with your assessment, Captain Graham,” Adams agreed. “You have thirty-six hours, then I want you on the way to Charlotte. Coordinate with Lieutenant Colonel Wagner, as he will be running the show on base.”

  Terrell nodded. “Understood, sir.”

  “Captain Kyle,” John spoke up, “when you and your team arrive at the stadium, I’ll arrange for you to be met by the civilian administrator for the facility. His name is Bill Huff. He’s an old friend of mine that retired to the area and he is very good at what he does. While you will be running the show, Bill will be there to keep the day to day operations running smoothly. Keeping tabs on the residents, making sure there’s enough food so you all don’t starve, so on and so forth.”

  Frank nodded. “Understood, sir.”

  “Captains,” Adams said, “I had a talk with the Master Sergeant before you came in, and between his endorsement and your exemplary service record, I am giving you a promotion. As of this moment, you both have the rank of Master Sergeant. This should clear a lot of paths for you to do what needs to be done.”

  Both men immediately shot to their feet, saluting.

  “Thank you, sir,” they barked, in unison.

  “No, gentlemen,” Adams replied, jaw tight, “thank you. We have several of these fortresses that are being set up across the country, but they are all in much smaller cities. What I’m asking you and your teams to undertake is on par with a suicide mission, which is why I wanted to give you your mission personally. There’s not much else I can do from here, but at least I can give you my respect and gratitude.”

  Terrell nodded. “We’ll complete our mission, sir.”

  “Good luck, gentlemen,” Adams said.

  “Go get ‘em, boys,” John added, and then the feed ended.

  The two newly minted Sergeants turned to each other, letting out deep breaths as they stared in dis
belief.

  “Figures we’d get a massive promotion at the exact moment money and vacation days stopped being a thing,” Terrell broke the silence.

  Frank shrugged. “Yeah, but look at the bright side, at least you get to loot and pillage to your heart’s content.”

  “Man, I’ve been accused of stealing my shop owners since I was old enough to walk.” The dark-skinned man rolled his eyes. “Almost hate the thought of proving those assholes right, even if it is necessary.”

  “We can switch jobs if you want,” Frank teased.

  “And deprive you of the opportunity to rush headlong into a couple hundred thousand zombies?” Terrell scoffed. “Shit man, I couldn’t do that to you. Wouldn’t feel right.”

  Frank raised his chin. “Very noble, Graham. Very noble.”

  “What can I say?” His friend grinned. “I’m a giver.”

  “Alright, let’s get to work,” the shorter man said. “Staging room in ten sound good?” He held out his fist.

  Terrell bumped it with his own. “I’ll let the boys know.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Boys, we’ve been to hell and back more times than I can count,” Sergeant Long began, hands clasped behind his back. Two strike teams stood at attention before him, his new Sergeants at ease at his back. “For the most part, we’ve come through the other side intact. That…” He swallowed hard, and took a deep breath. “That just isn’t going to be the case this time around. You’ll get a full pre-mission briefing, but there was a successful bio-terror attack over the weekend. Anybody with A-type blood will be gone within seventy-two hours. Myself included.”

  The rigid stance broke, a round of gasps sounding in the small space. The men glanced at each other, eyes wide and worried.

  “If you’re in that group, please step forward,” Long instructed, and four of the twelve men did so. “I’m sorry men, but as of this moment, all four of you are officially relieved of duty.”

  “Now,” Terrell piped up. “While you are officially relieved of duty, the reality is, we can use your help. Our mission is a daunting one, and the time you have left can still be put to good use.”