by Mark Tufo
“Some, we’ve got a few attack choppers and a few jets with more pilots to fly them than machines to be manned. What we’re running low on is mechanics to keep them serviced. However, this war is not going to be won with bombs and bullets, it’s going to be won with these.” The captain pulled out a vial. “Or something like it. Come on.” He led him across the room and through another corridor.
“What is this place? It certainly isn’t a sewer.”
“Back in the 60s, when the Cold War was in full swing and we thought the Ruskies were going to send nukes at any moment, the US built these havens all across the States in case the president was visiting somewhere and couldn’t get back to a safer place. Supposedly this can withstand a direct nuclear strike.”
The doc was looking around. “I’d just be happy if it would keep zombies out.”
“In that, we are in agreement,” the captain said to him. “Welcome to the hospital wing.” Captain Najarian swept his hand for the Doc to enter before him.
“What kind of equipment do you have here?” Doc asked in wonder. The room was easily fifty-by-fifty and had thirty hospital beds, each with heart monitors. Most of the beds were unoccupied.
“Just about everything a major metropolitan hospital would have. X-ray, MRI, diagnostic machines up the wazoo. I’ll be honest, I don’t know what most of the stuff is, but I’m told it’s top notch.”
“Medicine?”
“Everything from Aspirin to Zinc.”
“This is incredible.”
“I thought you’d think that.”
“You have doctors on staff?”
“We have more mechanics than docs. Hospitals were hit the hardest when the outbreak occurred. We have Doc MacAvie, but I think he’s like a hundred and eight and retired before this place was built. There are some technicians, a few nurses, a coroner and then the head of staff, Doctor Fenling. She’s about as prickly as a dried out cactus, but she’s proficient at what she does. She’s a top-notch surgeon, has a harder time with the smaller cases like broken bones and such. She also has the bedside manner of a pissed off chimpanzee.”
“Sounds charming.”
“Oh, you have no idea.”
“What do you have the techs working on?” Doc asked.
“A cure.”
Doc paused. “And?”
“Most of these guys were drug analysts. You know, making sure Joe Job-Seeker wasn’t puffing a few magic dragons before he started stocking shelves. I think we have everything they need. A pressurized, sealed lab, culture growing ability, all the machinery they could ever dream of, but it’s still like first graders trying to comprehend advanced physics. They’re fumbling in the dark here.”
Doc clutched his suitcase to his chest. This place was the key, he knew it, but that didn’t diminish his personal vendetta. There was most likely no safer place in the nation for Porkchop. Could he leave him, though, and strike out on a fool’s quest? Tommy needed to pay for what he had done to him and his family. It mattered little that Tommy had been forced to partake in the destruction. He was the only semi-living thing still out there that could slake the hatred that burned in Doc Baker.
“I might be able to help, Captain, but I’m going to need a couple of things in return.”
“Name it. If I can get it authorized, I’ll do it.”
Doc nodded and then licked his lips nervously. “I want Porkchop to be allowed to stay here.”
“That’s an easy one, Doc. I’ve got a feeling the next request is going to be a lot bigger.”
“Eliza had a brother.”
“Tomas?” the captain asked, surprising him.
The Doc had a hard time swallowing as acid from his stomach shot up through his esophagus at the mere mention of the name. “Yes…him. I want him destroyed and I want to be the one that does it.”
The captain rubbed his face. “Well, I was right. That one is a doozy. If this Tomas exists…”
“I can assure you he does. The blood of my family runs strong through his veins.”
“Okay, so he does exist. And if I am to believe that his sister was indeed a vampire that controlled the zombies, then almost by implied relation, Tomas’ blood might have the same effect on them as his sister’s. I can’t destroy what could potentially be a remedy for what ails us. I am truly sorry for your losses, Doc, I am. But you’ve got to see this on a broader scale.”
“I’ll look at it on any damn scale I want to!” the doc said, nearly yelling. “You and your fancy little get up weren’t there while Eliza was ripping up my family, while her little lap dog Tomas drained them dry. I was! They begged me to help them, they were screaming for me at the end. And I couldn’t do anything.” He was sobbing. “She made me watch, she was even laughing at my torment. I have to…I have to kill him. It’s the only thing that will bring me peace.”
The captain put his arm around the doctor. “I’ve been through some difficult losses myself,” he said, his eyes getting a momentary distant glaze to them. “I can assure you that killing him will not bring you any solace. In fact, it will only make matters worse.”
The doc wanted to shrug the man off, but the racking sobs were making that impossible.
“If we can catch him and we can get what we need from him then I promise, Doc, I’ll let you do whatever you feel like you need to. Fair enough?”
Doc finally got himself down to some sniffling. “I have some paper work, vaccines and some other samples I was working on. I’d like to get them replicated.”
The captain stepped back. “Vaccines, Doc? Vaccines for what?”
“The start of what you’re looking for.”
The captain’s entire body fleshed out in goose pimples. Hope, which had seemed such a small elusive bastard, had just doubled in size for the captain.
He made sure Doc’s suitcase was treated like the gold it was and had personally made sure that the contents in its entirety were safe. The doc rested for a few hours before he came looking for the captain.
“You ready for the rest of the tour?” the captain asked.
“There’s more?”
The captain led the way. The corridor was dark and narrow as they stepped in. The captain hit a light switch, illuminating the hallway. It was not more than a couple of feet across. On the left was smooth concrete, and on the right were large glass panes that went nearly floor to ceiling.
The doc gasped when he saw what was in the first room.
“We’re safe,” the captain said, indicating to the housed zombie.
“Are you sure? I’ve yet to see a horror movie where holding the monster was ever a good idea.”
“We’ve got to know our enemy to better destroy them.”
“Sounds very Art of War-ish.”
“In a manner of speaking, it is. We’ve been doing tests on them to discover ways to stop the viral takeover. Also, we’ve been doing extensive testing on their abilities to learn and adapt. They’re not exactly the mindless brain eaters we thought they were. In fact, just recently they’ve begun to exhibit intelligence of a sort we didn’t think they were capable of.”
“How so?” the doc asked, not willing to step too close to the glass.
“They can’t see you, and that glass would stop a bullet.”
“How big a bullet?” The doc took a halting step further in.
The captain laughed. “Big enough. When we brought in Zippo here, he couldn’t so much as open a door, no matter what kind of handle it had on it.”
“Zippo?”
“Yeah we give all of our zombies names that start with ‘Z’. Zippo, Zedrick, Zeus…”
“You named a zombie after a god of old? I’m not so sure I agree with that. How many of them do you have?”
“Fifteen.”
“Fifteen? That I definitely don’t agree with.”
“You’re not the only one, I can assure you, but the research it could provide would be invaluable.”
“Alright, I am attempting to move past the fact that a zombie is no more than
a few feet from me. What advances are they exhibiting?”
“Well, for instance, our buddy here has figured out doors. I’m talking regular doorknobs, handles, push-bars, everything…even being able to pull them open, which before recently was something completely out of their skill set. It’s almost a geometric progression. In a few more months, they’ll probably be able to do their own research on how to stop us,” the captain quipped.
“That’s not really amusing.”
“I didn’t really mean it that way. They’re beginning to scare the hell out of me.”
“You mean they weren’t beforehand?”
“I had gotten used to the enemy. Now they’re rewriting the rules and I’m not a fan. Doc, I want to tell you something, and I hope you don’t get mad.”
“I’m listening.”
“We weren’t out on some routine patrol when we came across you. We were looking for you. We had drones in the sky for just that purpose.”
“Looking for me? How could you possibly know I was out there?” He paused. “The truckers you captured. That makes sense. So then this wasn’t really a choice coming here?”
“Not really,” the captain said, taking a particular interest in the flooring. “You weren’t safe out there, Doc. You’ve got to realize that, and there just aren’t many of you guys with your expertise around. It’s you and skilled people like you that are going to get this country…shit, the world…back on its feet. Anyone can shoot a damn gun.”
“Not me,” the doc said.
“Okay, maybe not you. But you shouldn’t be. I brought you here hoping that the innate curiosity I’ve seen in all doctors would take over and you’d want to stay.”
Doc turned to look directly at the captain. “And what if right now I told you I wasn’t interested in this place and I wanted to go on my own.”
“I won’t keep you. Although, I did see your eyes light up when I told you about the lab and patients that could use your help. You stay, Doc, and my word is my promise. I will do all I can to bring this Tomas to justice.”
“The only justice for that animal is a bullet in the brain.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do...eventually.”
“Ever broken your word?” Doc asked.
“Once,” He answered. “I was seven and I told my mom I would stop climbing the tree in our backyard. I climbed it anyway, fell out of it, and broke my arm in two places. I vowed there and then I’d never break another. Karma works entirely too fast in my case to go against it.”
“I’ll stay. I’ll see to your personnel and, God willing, I’ll find something to stop the zombies. I was wondering why in the hell you guys were walking with a perfectly good ride.”
“Actually, a couple of reasons on that. We figured you might hide if you heard a motor and secondly the sound of the engine bouncing off buildings really seems to get the zombies going. We left him sitting in a clearing so he wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention.”
“Now that we’ve cleared the air, when have the zombies begun to exhibit this steep learning curve?” Doc asked.
“It’s really been within the last week. The last few days, I suppose.”
“Roughly the same time Eliza was supposed to have died,” Doc was pondering.
“Coincidence.”
“Doubtful, I don’t believe in them and there’s too much history to disregard the correlation. Eliza had control over the zombies, possibly even suppressing their natural ability to adapt and to learn.”
“And now the yoke is off,” the captain finished.
“Quite.”
“Well…how far could they go?” Cap asked.
“They have the entire human brain at their disposal,” Doc said, letting those words sink in for a few moments for the both of them.
“Are you saying we have the potential for super-soldiers here?” the captain asked.
“If you mean a killing machine that can move indefinitely, kill indiscriminately, and not fear death…and even begin to avoid it, then I think we’re already there. As a virus, it is only concerned with one thing, the perpetuation and replication of itself.”
“Doc, the only advantage we hold against them is their single-mindedness, their oblivion to gun fire. If they start to develop tactics and can even begin to wield weapons then that makes your work here that much more important. We cannot survive Zombies 2.0 with the numbers stacked so greatly against us.”
“I think we’ve moved past 2.0,” Doc said. “Help me get set up and I’ll get to work.”
Neither noticed that the zombie was peering out in their direction, hands pressed up against the glass. Its tongue flicking in and out rapidly like a snake.
Chapter 15 – Mike Journal Entry 7
Our walk back to the DPW compound was slow and quiet. Zombies were afoot and pissed off. I hoped they’d stay at the apartment complex for a while, but I was pretty sure that eventually they’d realize we’d departed and then they’d be on the prowl. The sun was just beginning to rise when we got to the front gate. I know I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was when I saw Tracy waiting for us—for me, more specifically. Everyone was up and looked as if they had been most of the night. How could they not be? We’d rocked a major explosion and then had some ground warfare. As soon as she did her quick head count, she’d known the cause of it all.
I knew she was pissed, I could see it in her features, and she had a right to be. I’d snuck out in the middle of night to dance with another. That it was Death only made it worse. I’ll give her this, she showed restraint. She had to have seen something in the set of my jaw or the lilt in my eyes. I was not the same man as I had been the previous evening.
“Mike?” Tracy asked as she began to undo the chain.
I stuck my hand through the gap and grabbed hers, tears began to flow from my eyes.
“Mike, are you bit?” BT asked, coming up quickly. “Help him, Tommy!” BT said as he physically removed Tracy from her spot so he could undo the chain quicker.
“I’m not bit, BT,” I told him as he started turning me around, looking for a wound.
“Well, you’re not bit, your family is here, and you still have your rifle, I’m stumped. What could possibly make you cry?” he asked.
Tracy was standing next to me. “Mike?” She saw that BT’s efforts were going for naught.
“I saw Melanie,” I told her.
It didn’t take her long to put all the pieces together. If I’d seen Melanie and all was well, the girl would be here with us. “What are you going to tell Ron and Nancy?”
“The truth, I suppose.” I took in a sobbing breath and then exhaled just as loudly. “Although, I don’t know how I’m going to do it.”
“Should you?” BT asked. “What good will it do?”
“At least they’ll know…they’ll be able to move on,” I told him.
I know he didn’t mean his question; he was just trying to give me an out. I’d thought about lying, not that she was dead, but maybe rather in the manner in which she had died. Would it make the blow any easier if I said I came across her body in her car? No, there was no good way to deal with this.
I walked into the shop where Gary was busy at work.
“Man, did you hear all the fireworks last night?” he asked when he saw me come in.
“Front row seats,” I told him.
“That was you? Are you alright?” He stopped and actually looked at me.
“Not sure if I’ll ever be alright.” I decided to let him know now before he had to ask another ten questions. “I saw Melanie…she was a zombie,” I added quickly, making sure his hope meter wouldn’t rise too high before I smashed it against a rock.
He didn’t say anything. He turned and went back to work. He didn’t want to know the particulars, and who could blame him.
“Where’s the radio?”
He pointed with a wrench-laden hand. Tracy was at the doorway watching. She came over to me and grabbed my hand once I picked up the microphone.
<
br /> “Ron, you there?” I barely managed.
“Hey, little brother, everything alright?” my sister Lyndsey asked.
“Is Ron around?”
“What? No cracks about my cooking?” she quipped.
“Not this time.”
“Is Justin there? I’ve got someone here that would love to talk to him.”
“Sis, could you please just get Ron and Nancy?” There was a pause; I knew she had questions. They were going to have to wait. “Now, please,” was what I said. Before I lose my courage, was what I thought.
It was an indeterminable amount of time later when he finally picked up. “You fuck up another truck?” was the first thing he asked.
“If only. Is Nancy with you?”
He picked up on the tone even through the electronics.
“Yes,” I heard him dry gulp.
“I found Melanie.”
I could hear them both gasp, this wasn’t the ‘I FOUND MELANIE!’ let’s celebrate and pop tops off champagne, maybe dance wildly around a small fire sound.
“And?” Ron prodded cautiously.
I was sobbing. “Ron…Nancy…I’m so sorry…I…I…” I had to stop. I couldn’t collect myself for long moments. Tracy was alternating between squeezing my hand and stroking my head. “She was a zombie.”
Now I could hear their cries to match my own.
“NO, MIKE, NO!” Ron shouted through the mic, the power of his loss bleeding through.
“I killed her,” I said so softly I wasn’t sure I’d even made sound.
I must have, though, because Tracy brought both of her hands to her face.
“Damn you, Mike, just fucking damn you,” Ron said through his haze of tears.
“Too late,” I said, letting the mic swing free as I stood and walked away.
Chapter 16 – Stephanie and Trip
“Do you have any change?” Trip asked, taking his hands off the oversized steering wheel to check his pockets. The bus started to veer off the highway. “There’s a toll booth coming up.”
“I’ll find some!” Stephanie said, her nerves fairly frazzled.
Life with John was an adventure, something she’d always considered a positive. His free spirit and kind nature attracted some of the nicest people she’d ever had the pleasure to meet. However, in the midst of an extinction event, she found the constant monitoring of his erratic, eclectic, idiosyncratic behavior to be exhausting. It appeared to her that he looked for ways to get them into trouble only to somehow through divine intervention find his way out again.
