World on
Fire
Charles Scottie
Copyright © 2016 Charles Scottie
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1533559643
ISBN-13: 978-1533559647
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to my parents, Glen and Rosemarie Garms. Without their patience, and their love, I would not have come this far.
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
i
1
The Hero
Pg. 3
2
The Journal
Pg. 14
3
The Gang
Pg. 35
4
The Gas Station
Pg. 42
5
The Commander
Pg. 77
6
The Distraction
Pg. 82
7
The Hunter
Pg. 112
8
The Map
Pg. 117
9
The Performer
Pg. 162
10
The Tools
Pg. 171
11
The New Normal
Pg. 200
12
The Fingers
Pg. 206
13
The Determined
Pg. 244
14
The Sewers
Pg. 250
15
The Illuminati (?)
Pg. 262
16
The Pit
Pg. 268
17
The Monster
Pg. 282
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank all of my friends and family who have banded together with me to help make this book a reality:
Adam Garms, my brother and the only man I’d trust to illustrate my dream. Adam Martel, who was always the first to read my story and who supported me from the beginning.
Alec George, who was kind enough to educate me on many things, in spite of my constant teasing in high school.
Burl Pettibon, who read way too much as a child, and inadvertently became my most valuable critic.
Nicole Krizek, a fellow writer, and an invaluable resource in trying to figure out what in God’s name I’m getting into with this writing business.
Sarah Dory, my dear friend, who helped me to become the person that I am today, and who gave me the idea that started it all.
Without your presence in my life, none of this would have been possible. Saying “thanks” and calling it a day seems too simple for something that honestly means so much, but for now, it’s the best that I can do. I owe you guys.
Somebody told me once that if you're really scared, you just have to focus on something else. Anything else at all, just focus as hard as you can, and you can calm yourself down.
I don't like doing that, it sounds like avoiding the problem, but right now I don't know what else to do. I need my hands to stop shaking. Christ, it's taking everything I have to keep my mind off of them clawing their way in. They're going to do it eventually, they always do, and then it's going to be me against them.
But that's okay. That's okay because I'm not scared. I'm writing a story. In fact, I'm writing my story. I'm going to write down everything, and when I'm done I won't be nervous anymore. All I have to do is start. Just start writing about something, anything, and I'll be fine.
Have you ever read about one of those face recognition experiments? It's like, you take a picture of somebody famous and then you walk around asking people if they recognize the person in the picture. They've done it with presidents and company mascots and all kinds of people, just to see how popular they are. It's kind of a weird idea, but it shows a lot about the way the world works today.
Sometimes, when I've got some time to think, that's where my brain wanders to. Do you think they've ever done it with a concept, not just a person? Show people a cross and see if they recognize a religion. Show people a myth or a monster, like a zombie, and see if they've heard about them before.
Zombies would have been a good choice. Everybody around the world would have known, and they would have laughed. I think about these people making faces and pretending to shamble around, and then I get angry. I get really angry, and I know I shouldn't be. It isn't rational, but I can't help myself.
Everybody knows about the idea of the “walking dead.” They're a pop culture phenomenon that've been around for decades. How many stories have you seen about the zombie apocalypse? How many of your friends have talked about it, have made mock plans to prepare for it, all while trying to hide their smiles? It's like it's this great big joke for everybody, and I get it. I know there was never a good reason to take it seriously, but that isn't exactly a great consolation prize now.
I mean, sure. Zombies take over in the movies, but the movies never really explain what happened, or why, or how, or anything. They start the story after everything's gone to Hell, and we all go along with it. There's a lot of running, people die, something explodes, and then just before the credits roll there's a scene that shows the threat isn't over and then you don't even know how the story is supposed to end.
It's stupid.
The reality was a lot worse. I don't know that we had any actual answers, but there was never any question as to what was killing so many people. We knew what we were dealing with pretty much right away, it just didn't matter. It wasn't even like it happened all at once. We had plenty of time to prepare, to gather supplies, make plans, meet with loved ones... in hindsight, I'm not sure that made it any better.
I hate thinking about this. If it doesn't make me feel like screaming, it makes me want to give up. But, I need to get it out of my system. Talking about it might help me process everything, I don't know. At this point, anything would be an improvement, and it isn't like I have something to lose.
About eight months ago, it actually happened. Zombies. Real zombies, not some hoax or strain of rabies or something. We're talking human beings who die started coming back hungry and angry. All the right rules apply, for the most part, though they don't shamble. They sprint, and they're strong. Stronger than they should be, definitely than they were when they were alive. You don't always have to hit the head to stop them, but they won't "die" again until you do. If you get killed, doesn't matter how, there's a pretty good chance you'll come back as one of them. You get bit, you're dead, and we're right back to the part where you're zombified.
It was figured out pretty quickly that we're all infected, or at least the vast majority of us are. The news said it was some kind of terrorist plot, that they'd been infecting water supplies and getting into foods, but a lot of us weren't convinced. Some people said it was God, others said it was the military, aliens, private corporations, big pharma... you name it and somebody probably thought it was the real culprit. Everybody was getting blamed and everybody was sick with it, so you can imagine how well people were getting along with each other.
I suppose if you had your own water supply and grew your own food, you wouldn't be afflicted, but I'm not convinced that'd really matter now. The virus (or disease? I don't know what to call it) didn't really change you. I heard somebody explain it like, it sits inside you, and it just stays in check, never going away but never taking over, either. Provided you had a healthy immune system, anyway. People who were sick didn't last very long. Neither did the elderly, or the kids.
I really want to say that was the worst part, seeing all the little kids get sick, get "dealt with," but I'd be lying. Honestly, sometimes I think they're better off, but that's... that's a d
ark place I try to stay out of. Can't dwell on it, need to keep talking it through and moving on. Moving on. Just state the facts.
An injury won't always do you in, but a bite definitely will. When your system shuts down, and the... the virus or whatever, when it brings you back it grows pretty rapidly. With nothing to keep it in check, it gets stronger. Getting bit transfers that new strain. I don't think there's anybody who's been able to survive a bite, but I guess it should be possible.
From what I've seen, nobody's willing to wait. We learned pretty quickly that you'd get yourself killed if you did. Like I said, we all know what zombies are, and what getting infected means. Most people agreed, it was better not to risk it. Fear will do that, make you do some harsh things. Better safe than sorry, but I doubt anybody felt okay with it.
I should probably say that any kind of fluid will spread the infection. Bites do it because of the saliva and that weird, mucus crap that comes off of them, but blood would do it, too. And their bodily waste, that'd do it, but I don't... that's just sick to think about getting inside somebody somehow, you know? Everything is sick about this, but that seems worse.
Though now that I've said it, there is one difference between the zombies we know and the ones we're dealing with now. You know how in the stories there's always that scene where somebody goes to check on their infected friend, and everybody watching is all tense because there's that moment like “what if they're already gone?” That doesn't happen here. You'll know. You always know.
They get this weird scummy layer on them before they come back all the way. It's like organic preservatives or something, it just oozes out of their skin like sweat. They don't fall apart in the elements or over time. You can't slow them down in the snow or turn them to dust in the desert, and far as I know, you can't just wait them out. They won't die unless you kill them.
They won't die, and they won't stop. Want a fun example? Right here, right now, I can hear them outside, trying to get through a blockade in the building across the street, just hammering away. The guy who was inside, he's been dead for two days. I heard the gunshot when he blew his brains out.
They heard it too, that's why they're there, but they haven't stopped since. They stay out there, slamming on the door until their arms are just bone and wet meat, hunting for the source of one sound that happened days ago. If they're after something, they'll never stop. More often than not, all you can do is pray they get distracted by something else before they find you.
I need to change subjects. I can't keep talking about them, I'm getting paranoid. Gotta focus on something else, gotta calm down. Just stick to the information you know. Who/What/Where/When/Why/How, right?
Facts. Facts are safe.
I covered “what,” so let's do “how” next. I mean, we're not the people you see in the movies. This is America, the good ol' fashioned ‘Merica we all know. Guns are everywhere, our military is gigantic, and everybody knows how to handle a zombie. You'd think we'd have been fine... so how did everything fall apart?
I don't actually have an answer for that. It's still something I ask myself, “how the fuck did this happen.” Best to start with the beginning. Or at least, what we think was the beginning.
I already said it was eight months ago, but I didn't tell you how things changed. The zombies now, they're fast, but that's actually new. When they first showed up, they were the rambling walkers that we'd all come to know and love. They did a little bit of damage, killed a few people, and then they were put down about as easily as you'd expect. Neighbors grabbed rifles, banded together, and wiped them out. The military had a bigger problem dealing with civilians who held the government responsible rather than the undead themselves.
The thing is, the creeps had popped up all over the place across every country. Never in huge numbers, but who cared? The dead were walking again. The fact that it had happened at all set the whole world on fire. Everybody was pointing fingers, and then they were buying up supplies and making plans and preparing for the end of the world.
Scientists and doctors were trying to figure out what was responsible, politicians were blaming it all on the opposing party, and in the middle of everything the police and military were trying to maintain a decent sense of order.
They failed, they failed bad, but considering how poorly they were treated... it was more than most people expected them to do.
And that was it, for six months. Six months of people preparing, of tests and drills and a thousand different attempts to keep things calm, and all that time nobody was getting any answers. Everybody started getting more and more paranoid about who was behind it all.
Nobody was laughing anymore. All the joke survival courses suddenly had full rooms, all the talk about gun control got drowned out in a show of supply and demand for more weapons. Everybody was getting ready for the absolute worst.
I want to say that people let their guard down eventually, and that that's how we ultimately lost control, but I don't know. Time went on and people just got worse. It makes me sick, but I think that might have been what did it. It wasn't the zombies that beat us. By the time they were a real threat, we'd already done it for them.
I remember hoping for the best, that maybe we'd pull through together, but any chance that things would improve went out the window when it was announced that all of us were infected. All of a sudden we had to be cautious of everyone. You could protect your family, but were your neighbors secure? What about strangers on the street? Just like that, everybody was a liability, a threat to your home and life.
It got dirty.
I don't get what they were thinking, making it public like that. Of course everyone would panic. Maybe they thought the people needed to know what was happening, to help stop an epidemic or something. All I know is that they put trust in us, but we were afraid. Really afraid. Like I said, fear makes people act rashly, makes them do things they aren't proud of. We turned on each other, and before it could get back under control, the virus changed.
Just like that, on the six-month anniversary of the very first outbreak, the virus got even worse. It started killing people who were still in decent health, they got up faster after dying, and they weren't slow or easy to handle when they came back. For all of our preparations, nobody was really ready. Not for something that severe. A lot of people died, which meant a lot of zombies happened, and the problem kind of escalated from there.
I don't want to pitch this like the whole world is dead. It isn't. There are strongholds out there, more than a few, communities that are well fortified and prepared. The rotters might be fast and strong, but they're not superhuman. They're only bones and flesh. You put up a metal door, they stay out.
In fact, and I'm doing my best to keep my hope in check here, the reality is we'll probably have a cure before too long. The labs are supposed to be under heavy security, and the guys inside are pretty well-motivated to end this. You just have to be able to keep your head down and stay safe until it all blows over.
The problem is getting to any of these places. People were paranoid, and again, we all knew how things happened in the movies. "Get out of the city, the city is the worst place to be!" So that's what everybody did. They crammed everything into their cars, all tried to leave at the same time, fucked every road around every city, and then wound up hearing that the safest place to be was the one they just left behind.
As it turns out, the military had responded to the whole outbreak pretty quickly, establishing huge outposts in a lot of major cities, and they were generally doing a pretty good job of keeping people inside safe.
I guess despite the usual story stereotype, the military wasn't all that incompetent after all. Figures.
The end result was a lot of people were caught outside these militarized safe zones with no fast or safe way to get back in, myself included. They weren't just going to leave the gates open for people (or zombies) to walk in at their leisure, and supposedly they didn't have the extra hands to keep the surrounding areas
cleared. Every resource was dedicated to keeping the camps and hospital areas safe, and that meant a lot of other places were left dangerous.
Thinking about it now, that might be why the military has gotten such a bad rap through all of this. They should have had enough people, right? I mean, they had all these safe zones, but we all know how large they are, how much money is spent on them, all of that. How did they run out of hands? How did so many people get killed under their watch? It doesn't make any sense, but it doesn't really make a difference either, I guess. It happened how it happened. Can't change that.
At any rate, the closer you get to an outpost, the more danger you're in, all thanks to the number of people trying to make it inside. More bodies means more noise, and noise means zombies. It's like a feeding frenzy just waiting to happen, and I don't want any part of it. I'm not exactly a specialist when it comes to surviving, but I'm smart enough that I can hold my own.
The Phoenix Trilogy (Book 1): World On Fire Page 1
