The next screen displayed thumbnail images of photos. The recent ones were of his nine compatriots in their uniforms. Those gave way to Halloween party pictures of him kissing a woman. Paula most likely. Cale couldn’t be sure. The Paula whose body they moved no longer resembled the once beautiful woman in her early thirties that appeared in these pictures. They looked so happy back then. As Cale looked at a happily living Jason who looked healthy and carefree, he thought about the pills. Cale didn’t know him but Jason didn’t seem like an addict. He felt bad for even thinking it.
Cale hit the arrow button and arrived at the videos tab. The screen was filled with folder icons with titles below them.
“Birthdays. Miscellaneous—” he whispered.
But the next one he kept to himself. Cale highlighted the one that read Prepper’s Diary and opened it. A list of video clips were displayed. The first was dated for March of 2005. Cale hit the button to play the video. Jason was sitting in an office. Behind him on the walls were his various certificates. He began to speak.
“How do I start this?” he started awkwardly. “Well…my name is Jason. Uh-Jason Hewitt. This all started back on September eleventh, 2001.”
He paused and his eyes shifted back and forth as if he were trying to decide how to organize his thoughts. He took a deep breath after he’d come to a decision.
“After the terrorists attacked, me and my colleges-friends. I should introduce them,” he laughed. “Vanessa. She’s a doctor. We met after my accident. Her and my wife, Paula, they discovered during one of my follow ups that they graduated in the same class from the same school. Her husband Peter Sharp was a college professor. He holds multiple degrees in a lot of different fields but he shines best in biology. There’s Brad Everett who served in the air force but is now a flight instructor and his girlfriend Heather Townsend. She’s a botanist. My wife Paula Hewitt, she’s a psychologist, and myself. I’m an engineer. But anyway, we sat down and had a conversation. It had become blatantly obvious that our government, no matter how great and powerful, could no longer protect us. Protect us from the threats of the world. Protect us from those who want what we have. Both foreign and domestic. That’s…that’s when we decided to defend ourselves. For starters,” he began as he began to hold up a piece of paper. “We pooled our resources and found a contractor who specializes in bunkers. This is just the first draft, but we keep adding to it everyday.”
The bunker on the piece of paper was considerably smaller than the one Cale currently sat in. Jason signed off and the next one was dated a month later.
“It’s April fifth, 2005. I have some news. Our little group of six has grown by four. Brad and I were doing some research on firearms. Trying to figure out what exactly was illegal to own and which ones were okay. But that’s when we came across Dick and Janet Welling. They were able to answer all of our questions for us in some personal emails. But as we spoke more we discovered we shared a lot of the same concerns. Richard and Janet had a skill set that we lacked. She was a big shot lawyer and he had lots of money invested all over the place. But he specialized in militia tactics and survival. He’s also an avid hunter,” Jason chuckled. “He’s taken the rest of us under his wing and has attempted to teach us all he knows. After a unanimous vote we brought them into the group.”
The video ended abruptly but the following video was dated the same day and shortly after.
“Sorry,” he laughed. “That was just a phone call from Paula. But where was I? Oh yeah. New additions. I talked about the Wellings. So that just leaves Allison and Steve Rosenbaum. Steve was my physical therapist after my accident. We’d become drinking buddies and discovered we had a lot in common. His wife Allison is a jack of all trades. Personal trainer, beautician, she’s proficient in multiple languages, she even worked as a nurse for some time. It’s funny. She’s one of those people who just can’t decide what she wants to do in life.”
A knock at the door distracted him for a moment.
“Yeah. I’ll be right out,” he responded to an unseen person’s presence. “Just finishing up.”
“Okay,” a woman’s voice answered back.
“That was Paula. We’re having a get together with some friends. Talk to you later.” Jason ended his log entry.
Cale scrolled past the next few clips before deciding to click on another.
“Hey again,” Jason started. “It’s September second, 2005 and we finally selected a site for the bunker. The issue was finding a secluded spot, but Peter knows a guy who knows a guy. The wildlife preserve is thought to be all government property but this guy owns a few acres within it. His family never took the money they were offered. We’re going out there with the contractor next week. Just wanted to add an update was all. Gotta go!”
“What are you looking at?” Staff Sergeant Curtis asked as he walked in.
“Grabbed the phone off of the guy we pulled out of the stock room. Just sorting through his pictures and videos now,” answered Cale.
“Anything good?” he followed up.
“This guy and his friends called themselves preppers. They were preparing for a World War Three or something,” Cale replied. “He’d been making a video diary with his phone. Here look.”
Cale scrolled to the next clip and hit “play.” Jason’s face appeared on the small screen. This time he was outside somewhere. A forest and some machinery sat behind him.
“Here we are,” he stated with a smile. “It’s the ninth of September, 2005. The gang is all here to officially break ground on our project. Six months worth of planning and this is the final product.”
Jason flipped the camera around were the other nine and an construction crew were all gathered. Further back a semi and trailer had a large metal structure with “OVERSIZED LOAD” signs all over it.
“Jason. Really?” a woman said annoyed.
“If we’re the only survivors, we need to document everything we’ve done. So they know the trials and tribulations we had to endure,” he explained.
The group laughed.
“He’s our personal historian,” a man stated.
The laughter continued.
“Whose going to do the honors?” asked Jason.
Everyone looked at one another not wanting to be the first to volunteer. No one person was more worthy than the next.
“Can’t we all do it?” a woman asked.
“How can ten people use one shovel?” another laughed.
A few chuckles broke out.
“That could work,” a man stated.
“Could you? Could you hold my phone?” Jason asked a bystander.
“Sure,” someone answered. “How’s it work?”
“It’s already on,” Jason explained. “And the camera is here,” his finger blocked the view for a moment. “Just hold it like this and you’re all set.”
The man took the phone and held it up. The group was pixelated due to their distance from the camera. They all crowded around a shovel and together they pushed it into the dirt. Shouts and applause followed. The ten of them began hugging and congratulating one another. Jason left the group and approached the camera.
“Thanks,” he said before the recording cut out.
“Play another,” Curtis demanded.
“Let me find a more recent one,” requested Cale.
Curtis nodded as Cale searched. The button clicked as he pressed it. Finally he found one. It was dated a little over two years after the previous video. He was in a car. Trees whipped past the window.
“November ninth, 2007. Everything we’ve been preparing for. The drills, the stay overs, the training. All of it is going to pay off. We’ve been watching as this epidemic in Africa has spread. What most people haven’t realized is that it started in South America almost simultaneously. No one is reporting about how millions are dying in Mexico right now, right across our border,” he explained.
“Honey, we’ll be there in a second,” Paula informed him.
“Okay,” he said to
her. “We’re on our way to our rally point now. Too many vehicles right next to our bunker will draw entirely way too much attention. Peter and Vanessa are there already. As the others show up we’ll shuttle our gear back and forth with the pickup.”
A voice on the radio crackled. What they were saying couldn’t be made out because of the recording. Jason looked up at the road.
“What the fuck is that?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Paula answered.
“Is he hurt?” Jason asked again.
Frustrated she shouted back at him. “I don’t fucking know!”
The recording ended and Cale switched to the next one right away. Both men’s curiosity was at its peak. A tired looking Jason was sitting in the bunker’s dining area. He was wearing his blue jump suit.
“November fifteenth. It’s been a hectic few days. We all got here safely. Brad and Heather however were attacked when they stopped for fuel. They barely made it out. Vanessa and Peter immediately quarantined them in the med bay. Peter is confident with some antibiotics they’ll be fine. So far nothing is going on topside. The news said something about the military locking down our bases and our borders. They’re setting up quarantine zones all over the country. Right now everyone out there is running around, scrambling to survive. And we…” he chuckled. “We’re doing just fine. We knew this kind of thing would happen. Ya know, people called us nutjobs. And laughed at us. Whose laughing now? Huh? We’re safe in sound and you’re in trouble. History will be written by us. We will rebuild atop the ruins of the old world.”
He appeared to be inebriated.
“Everyone out there can just suck a fat dick,” he laughed.
“Holy fuck,” Curtis spoke over the video. “He’s drunk as hell.”
“Yeah he is,” Cale agreed.
Jason slurred the rest of his monologue before signing off. Cale again went to the next clip.
“It’s November seventeenth, 2007. Heather and Brad have gotten worse. Vanessa isn’t sure there will be anything they can do to help them. But Peter thinks he might be able to create a vaccine for the rest of us. Like an inoculation or something. We’ve started seeing some activity on the cameras. So far it was just a couple of people poking around the truck, but they didn’t stay for long. They continued off into the woods. They came no where near the bunker entrance. Dick and Janet have been watching the cameras with their guns all week. Even though we’re sealed in and there is no way anyone could get through, they’re concerned about security,” he added.
Something unseen caught his eye.
“We need everyone in here,” a voice said.
Jason looked concerned. “Okay.”
“There are only three of them left,” Cale notified Curtis.
“Let’s finish them,” he replied.
Cale agreed without argument and played the next video. It was time stamped shortly after the last video. Jason’s face appeared. He looked like he was upset.
“Brad is dead. And Heather has slipped into a coma. It doesn’t make sense. They were just bites. Peter and Vanessa are at a loss. All we can do is keep them in the same room until we can take Brad up to bury him. Some more people have wandered around the entrance. They don’t seem to be leaving but they don’t seem to be interested in getting in right now either. We took a vote on going up and chasing them off but Vanessa said the vaccine wasn’t ready yet. Her and Peter are wanting another day to try and test it. Unfortunately they don’t have any animals to do so. Someone will have to volunteer.”
He paused and thought for a moment. Jason licked his lips and wiped his eyes. Then prepared to speak again.
“I think I’m going to volunteer. If it works, then great, but if not…” he trailed off.
The video ended and Cale immediately hit play. Jason was sitting in the storage room. Blood was smeared on his face and he was breathing rapidly.
“I don’t know what the fuck happened,” he confessed. “Paula and I were bedding down for the night and there was screaming. I grabbed a gun from the vault and…and…” Jason looked lost. “Vanessa must have tried out the vaccine on herself. Allison was screaming hysterically. Steve, Janet, and Dick… She infected them before anyone knew what was happening. Paula…oh my God, Paula.” he started to cry. “She hid in the bathroom stall and I just fucking left her there!”
Jason began to sob. The hum of the generator was drowned out by a banging which was followed by snarls.
“They’re out there right now,” he said in between tears. “I…I…I shot my friends. I shot them. But they just keep coming. I can hear Paula out there. I tried calling her phone, but it just rings. I called 911 but the line is busy. All I can do is sit and wait.”
He slammed his head back into the wall.
“Fuck!” he shouted at the ceiling.
The video ended. Cale looked around before playing the next clip. Tomes, Ballard, Bailey, and Grey were standing there listening.
“What are you waiting for?” asked Ballard wrapped in a bath towel. “Play the next one, sergeant!”
Cale started the last clip. Jason’s face was barely visible. It was dark in the storeroom now.
“It’s Thanksgiving 2007. I’ve been in here for a couple of days now. I shut off the generator last night when I realized the noise it made was why they were banging on the door. I’m just so tired.”
He looked defeated. His eyes were sunken and dark. His face was covered in stubble.
“I’ve lost signal on my phone. The battery is about dead now. I can hear them out there. There’s no one left. No one to help me. How could we have been so stupid? We didn’t dig a hole and make ourselves a bunker. We dug our own grave and made it a tomb. We thought we were better than everyone else. That we would rebuild the new world. I thought we would write history and that monuments would be erected in our honor. Pride. We smugly thought we’d be safe here. That was our Achilles’ heel.”
He sighed and looked down at something in his other hand.
“Funny,” he chuckled.
Soon he was laughing uncontrollably. As his laughter died out the moans grew louder outside the door.
“I only have one bullet left,” stated Jason. “Why is there always one bullet left? Always.”
Jason held up his gun. He tested it’s weight in his hand.
“Well…only one thing I can do now,” he said. “I’m Jason Hewitt. And if you’re watching this, learn from our mistakes. Paula, I love you,” he finished before placing the gun under his chin and pulling the trigger.
His body went limp and the camera now faced the door. It shook with every blow from the undead. They screamed and shrieked in the darkness. Unfortunately for them, they’d never lay hands on this meal.
Chapter 6
PLAN OF ACTION
Lauren sat behind the old wooden table listening to Jim argue his point.
“They attacked us first,” he stated. “We cannot look weak. We have to do something about it!”
Even though the attack had taken place about three and a half months ago, everyone was still on edge. After Lauren had returned with news of their numbers; construction of the barrier finished quickly.
“But they have women and children,” Lauren objected.
“So do we,” answered Jim who paced the floor. “And that didn’t stop them.”
“I think we can all agree that if we were desperate enough we’d do the same,” Doc made his point. “There has been no follow up attack. And everyone we send to see what they’re doing come back and say the same thing. They’re barely surviving over there. They nearly all died when that group of Zs walked through their camp. Sure they’ve got lots of guns but they don’t have the ammunition.”
“Because they used it on us!” Jim interrupted.
“I’m just suggesting that, because they don’t have the same defenses, maybe we could come to some agreement.” Doc ignored Jim’s outburst.
“It makes sense,” Kristie spoke out. “The real threat is the gang
s out east. They’ve come up and tested our wall a few times now. Luckily, the heavy machine guns scare them, but eventually they’ll realize we don’t have any ammunition for them.”
“Alright,” Charles raised his hand to stop the discussion. “We’ve heard both sides now, lets take a vote.”
He looked around at his fellow committee members. Even though Jim was officially their mayor, the committee ensured the checks and balances of democracy. Jim had only won because Doc hadn’t run. A fact Jim was well aware of.
“All in favor of attack?” Charles asked for a show of hands.
Jim’s hand shot up immediately, then he began to look around and count his votes. Since Charles was the moderator, he didn’t vote unless there was a tie.
“That’s it?” Jim said angrily. “Three out of twelve?”
Charles continued the vote. “And those in favor of a truce?”
Doc and Lauren’s hands shot up simultaneously. Quickly followed by Kristie’s and then the other six members. Lauren looked at them. She’d seen all of them around the village.
“That’s nine to three. Ms. Mills did you get that?” he asked the stenographer.
She nodded her head. “Yep. It’s all here.”
“Perfect,” added Charles. “We’ll take a lunch break and come back and decide how to go about extending the olive branch. Take your time getting back.”
* * *
Everyone began to stand up and move to the door. Lauren and Kristie gathered their things. Kristie moved her swollen belly around the table in an effort to stand up. She was around three months pregnant and no one knew who the father was. And she wasn’t sharing that information. Lauren had her suspicions though.
“Thank God,” stated Kristie. “I don’t know what my deal is but I’m fucking starving.”
Lauren laughed. “You’re growing a human. That’s what your deal is.”
Kristie laughed.
“What are you doing for lunch?” asked Lauren.
Z Plan (Book 3): Homecoming Page 6
