The Zombie Uprising Series: Books One Through Five

by M. A. Robbins

  Jen's head swam. Her father was a zombie, and she would become one someday unless the CDC could find a cure. What a damn nightmare.

  A beeping sound came from the cluttered desk. Doc logged onto the computer and clicked an icon. A blue light blinked above the monitor and the screen filled with the video image of a thin gray-haired woman with intense dark eyes. "Status report."

  Doc rolled his chair back and looked up at the screen. "We have the infected survivors of Point Wallace. The father, Devin Reed, has transformed and is secured." He hitched a thumb over his shoulder. "This is Jen Reed, his daughter."

  The gray-haired woman gave Jen a smile that didn't quite reach the corners of her eyes. "Miss Reed, I'm Dr. Cartwright, Director of Operations for the Center for Disease Control. I hope we can secure your cooperation."

  Jen stepped closer. Even over video the lady reeked of bureaucracy. "I guess it depends on what cooperation you're looking for."

  Dr. Cartwright's lips pressed together to form a thin line. Doc cut in. "I haven't had a chance to brief her yet."

  "See that you do." Dr. Cartwright's face disappeared from the screen and the time and weather displayed.

  Jen crossed her arms. "She isn't by chance searching for ruby slippers, is she?"

  A grin crossed Mark's face.

  Doc chuckled. "I heard you were a bit of a spitfire."

  Jen wanted to like Doc. His laid-back attitude put her at ease. But first she had to get the full picture. "How about that briefing you mentioned?"

  Doc fidgeted with a pen on the desk. "I need your blood, too."

  "Mine? Why?"

  "We suspect there are different properties of the virus when it's dormant, like it is with you, and active, like your father's. They need to study the differences to attempt a cure."

  Jen rolled up her sleeve. "Then take my blood."

  Doc opened a cabinet and pulled out a box of syringes. He selected one and placed it on the desk.

  "What are the chances of finding the answer?" Jen asked.

  Doc tied off her upper arm with a rubber tourniquet. "The virus isn't that sophisticated, it's just very efficient and arrived without warning. There are no guarantees, but they've already made good progress. With your blood, I expect they'll be able to do animal tests by next week."

  Jen's eyes widened. "That's amazing."

  Doc jabbed the needle in Jen's arm and untied the tourniquet. Blood flowed into the cylinder. "There's a lot of motivation," he said. "Normally, this process would be off like a herd of turtles, but all the FDA rules have been suspended."

  He removed the needle from her arm and placed a small bandage on the wound. "You should go back to your room and rest. This will go out to the CDC immediately. It might be the last package out to Joint Base Elmendorf Richardson for transport. Things are getting mighty dicey out there."

  Jen wasn't going to argue. The shock of seeing her father had taken a lot out of her. She stood, and Mark moved to her side. "I'll take you back," he said.

  Doc filled a vial with the blood. "When you're rested, I'd like to talk to you about your experience in Point Wallace, if you've a mind to."

  Jen nodded. "Sure, Doc."

  Mark led her into the hallway. When they arrived at her room, Jen sat on the bed and Mark turned to leave, but Jen reached out and touched his arm. "Could you stay for a few minutes?"

  Mark turned back. He towered over her, considering her with his soft brown eyes. "Sure."

  Jen struggled with a question she had for him. She didn't want to piss him off, but she had to know. She looked him straight in the eye. "Why are you here? Why are you involved in this?"

  Mark rubbed his chin. After a few seconds, he gave a slight nod as if he'd made a decision. "This was supposed to be an easy assignment. Doc and his team were setting up to perform winter experiments on human survival in the cold. They didn't need much for security, so I planned on being here for only a few days, then I could monitor the systems remotely from home."

  "Where's that? Home, I mean."

  "Biloxi, Mississippi."

  Jen sighed. "So then Point Wallace happened."

  "Yeah," Mark said. "Doc got a call and he brought his staff into his lab. Hatcher showed up and was assigned as second-in-command after Doc. My orders were to secure the building and follow Hatcher's directions. I had no idea what the hell was going on, but I did as I was told." He gestured toward her. "You came in the next day."

  "And my dad."

  "I didn't know about him until yesterday, the first time I saw him. And like I said, I had no idea he was your father until you said it."

  Jen lay back in bed. Mark seemed sincere, but he was part of the whole government deal that was keeping her prisoner. And keeping her safe, it seemed.

  Mark walked to the door. "You better get some rest. I'll be right outside."

  He closed the door. Jen waited for the clunk of the lock's tumblers. It didn't come. A minute later soft whistling came from the other side of the door. The tune was slightly familiar. Something classical.

  She laid her head on her arms and stared at the ceiling. Even if Doc comes up with a cure, he can't help Dad. He has no future.

  His words from Point Wallace ran through her mind.

  I would rather someone kill me than live as a monster. Would you do that for me if the time comes?

  After an hour of rest, she got up and tried the TV again. Nothing on the airwaves. She walked to the door and opened it just as the lights went out again. The dim emergency lighting in the hall let her see a shadowed figure to the right of the door.

  "You OK?" Mark asked.

  "I'm good."

  They stood there in the dark and said nothing. A few minutes later the lights came back on.

  "That took a while," Jen said.

  Mark looked up at the fluorescent overheads. "The Anchorage power grid is out."

  "Then why do we have lights?"

  "We have arrays of batteries in the basement. They've taken over."

  Jen frowned. "It's got to be a real mess out there if the power's out. How long will the batteries last?"

  "We've got solar panels on the roof. They'll keep the batteries charged until we hit the short days in winter."

  I'll be damned if I'm staying that long. I'll help Doc and take care of Dad, then I'm out of here. "I'd like to see my dad."

  Mark searched her eyes. "You sure?"

  She nodded. "The first time was a shock. I'm ready this time."

  He shrugged. "OK." He led her upstairs to the window with the blinds. "Want me to open them?"

  "No." She lifted a blind and peeked through. Her father was still strapped upright to the table as she'd first seen him, his head down.

  Again, the memory of her promise flooded in. She pressed her lips tightly together and tears burned her eyes. I'll keep my promise, Dad.

  6

  Jen stood in the hallway the next day, peeking through a blind at her father again. He had his head raised and sniffed the air as if he knew someone was nearby. Low, rumbling growls came from his lips. Jen squelched the urge to lift the blind higher and make it easier to watch him. No doubt he'd see her and go apeshit.

  It was getting harder and harder for her to see her father in the face of the undead monster before her. Her resolve to kill the creature and release her father continued to grow. Is he trapped in there, or is he already gone? No matter, she'd make sure he had the chance to rest in peace.

  She glanced behind her. Mark leaned against the wall, studying his cell phone and whistling that tune again. It was beginning to play in her head when he wasn't around.

  Thanks, Mark.

  She lowered the blind and turned. "Have you been able to talk to your family?"

  Mark shrugged without looking up. "Not yet. But I'm sure they're OK."

  Clipped footsteps echoed down the hallway from the direction of the elevator. Hatcher.

  "What are you doing out of your room?" he said.

  I've had enough of this
asshole. "None of your damn business."

  Mark moved to her side and faced Hatcher. "Doc said it was OK."

  Doc sauntered down the hallway behind Hatcher. "Is there a problem here?"

  Hatcher pointed at Jen. "She's a security risk. She shouldn't be anywhere near the dead subject."

  "Dead subject?" Jen said. "That's my father."

  "Oh, no." Hatcher crossed his arms. "He was no longer your father the minute he turned. He's now government property."

  Jen balled her hands into fists and took a step toward Hatcher. "Like hell."

  Mark grabbed her arm and held her back. "This isn't the time," he whispered into her ear.

  Doc stopped beside Hatcher. "We have no need for the zombie. His blood's been collected and shipped to the CDC." He nodded at Jen. "She's next of kin and should be allowed to determine what happens to him."

  "And I'm going to give him peace," she said.

  Hatcher's face grew red. He faced Doc. "I understand you're in charge here, but you have to answer to your superiors, too. I'm not trying to be the bad guy here, but the country's in a deadly situation and if it isn't handled properly, it could mean the end of everything."

  Doc's voice softened, and he put a hand on Hatcher's shoulder. "I know you're doing your best under sorry circumstances, but being a hard-ass with Jen won't accomplish anything. The loss of one zombie won't hurt the cause." He peered over his glasses. "Let her give her father peace."

  Hatcher looked at Jen, then back at Doc. "I can't stop you, but I will make a full report once we're evacuated. I would be derelict in my duties if I didn't."

  Doc nodded. "Yes, you would. I understand your position, but Jen gets to determine what happens to her father, and she gets the freedom to move around. So I suggest y'all chill."

  Hatcher glared, then strode off down the hallway.

  Doc smiled at Jen. "Well, now that that's over, would you mind coming to my office and assisting me?"

  "Sure," Jen said.

  She and Mark followed Doc to his lab. He pointed to a faux leather swivel chair. "Please have a seat."

  Jen sat, and Doc pulled up a chair. Mark leaned on the counter behind her. Doc reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small capped plastic vial half filled with brown powder.

  "The spores," Jen said. "Where'd you get them?"

  Doc placed the vial on the desk. "Your pants pocket, when they brought you in. So you know about the spores. What about the mycovirus?"

  Jen tilted her head. "Mycovirus? What? On those spores?"

  Doc nodded.

  "We didn't have the equipment to magnify them enough to see the virus," she said.

  "What's a mycovirus?" Mark asked.

  Jen turned in her chair. "It's a virus that infects fungi." She swung back to Doc. "What do they have to do with anything?"

  "Where'd you find the spores?" Doc asked.

  "Inside the coat of one of the sailors. Why?"

  Doc waved his hand dismissively. "I'll get to that. Please just answer my questions for now."

  Jen shrugged. "OK."

  "How much did you find in the coat?" Doc asked.

  "It was full of spores. There had to be billions of them."

  Doc sighed, removed his glasses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Did the other sailors have the spores as well?"

  Jen thought back. She'd run into plenty of the sailors and had killed more than a few, but none of their coats had been open. "I don't know. The only reason we discovered them was we examined that one seamen before he thawed."

  Doc stood and paced. "And there was severe weather when the sailors rose. Wind gusts to seventy miles an hour according to the weather reports."

  Jen nodded.

  "What do you think that did to the spores?" Doc asked.

  Jen squinted. What the hell was Doc getting at? A mycovirus and the spores being blown into the air and carried away? "Oh, shit."

  "Are you saying the zombie virus is a mycovirus?" Jen asked. "But they only infect fungi."

  "True," Doc said. "Normally. But what we're dealing with here has been far from normal."

  "So that's how the virus has spread," Mark said.

  Doc placed a hand on Mark's shoulder. "I believe so." He turned back to the desk and opened a drawer, retrieving a thumb drive. "I've done as much research and analysis on it as I can here. Our data link with the CDC went down this morning and I've had only limited satellite communications with them. When we leave, I'll take this data with me so it can be studied further with their state-of-the-art equipment."

  He put the drive and vial in the drawer. "But there's something else I need your help with, Jen." Doc pulled the computer keyboard toward him. "We've been running drones, both from here and Joint Base Elmendorf Richardson."

  "We just call it JBER," Jen said. "It's easier."

  "Jay Bear?"

  "Yeah. J-B-E-R. JBER."

  Doc shrugged. "OK. So we've been running a couple of drones from here, and the Air Force has been running a dozen or so from JBER. I've merged all the footage and have been analyzing it."

  "For what?" Jen asked.

  Doc smiled. "I'm a behavioral scientist. Even if we had a cure in place right now, we'd still need to figure out how to deal with the zombies we already have."

  Jen glanced at Mark. He raised an eyebrow, but remained silent. "OK, Doc," Jen said. "Let's see what you have."

  Doc hit a key on the keyboard and the video began. It was a shot from the sky looking straight down. Buildings, roads, and trees zipped by before it seemed to slow.

  "Watch for it," Doc said.

  The drone hovered over a group of three humans. They picked their way through a parking lot of abandoned cars.

  The picture widened, and Jen recognized a midtown bookstore. The lot was half full of abandoned cars and the survivors ducked down and weaved their way between them.

  The picture widened further. Jen wasn't sure if it was the camera widening its angle or the drone climbing higher.

  When it showed the whole parking lot and building, a half dozen figures shambled at the top of the screen. Jen's muscles tensed as the group of humans slowly made their way toward the zombies.

  "Watch the zombies," Doc said.

  First one, then all of the zombies sniffed the air and turned toward the humans. When one of the humans stood to look over a car, the zombies all tilted their heads back and opened their mouths. Seconds later, they streaked for the humans.

  The picture switched to another view. It took Jen a second to realize it was of a department store parking lot across the street from the bookstore.

  There had to be thirty zombies spread across it, and they all raised their heads and opened their mouths, before sprinting in the direction of the humans.

  "Wait for it," Doc said.

  When the zombies disappeared from the shot, movement at the side of a car caught Jen's attention. A zombie milled around the lot as if it hadn't heard the call.

  Doc paused the video. "We know the zombies shriek when they spot prey, and that other zombies who hear the shriek respond with shrieks of their own."

  "Other than the sound being different, it reminds me of wolves howling," Jen said.

  "That's a great observation," Doc said. "A zombie howl."

  Mark grunted. "That's a good term for it."

  Doc nodded. "So at least one zombie spots a human and calls the others. They respond with howls of their own and run off to the chase."

  "Sure," Jen said. "Same as Point Wallace. Like swarming wasps."

  "Y'all are just great at naming things," Doc said. "A zombie howl and a zombie swarm. I'll be sure to attribute you in my notes." He rubbed his chin. "But what about that one that didn't howl, and didn't chase after the humans?" He cleared his throat. "I mean, didn't join the swarm?"

  Jen studied the picture on the screen. "That happened in Point Wallace, too. Almost like the zombies that didn't run off were deaf."

  "Or left behind in case any humans made a break f
or it," Mark said.

  Doc pointed at Mark. "That's what I think. While it could be because they don't hear, I'd have to assume that the rate of zombie deafness is roughly equivalent to the rate of human deafness."

  "Makes sense," Jen said.

  Doc put a forefinger in the air. "But, the rate of human deafness is less than one half of one percent. And yet, we see it in this video, and Jen reported the same at Point Wallace. That would be a far higher rate than humans."

  Jen's heart skipped a beat. "So you're saying these things are smarter than we've thought."

  "They are," Doc said. "But I think it's more of an instinctual intelligence than any real smarts. Problem is, I can't be sure without more data because we need to eliminate the possibility that the virus itself is mutating and making them smarter."

  "Holy shit," Mark said. "Bad enough these things have overwhelming numbers and are hard to take down, but if they're getting smarter, too..."

  Jen took a deep breath. "You're just full of sunshine, Doc. Any other good news?"

  He turned to the screen. "Watch this."

  He unpaused the video, and it switched to an overhead view of an area Jen couldn't identify. The drone flew over industrial buildings backed up to a green belt of fir trees.

  Two people ran full tilt from the trees and toward a building. Seconds later, four smaller dark figures burst from the trees in pursuit.

  "What the hell are those?" Jen asked.

  Doc said nothing.

  The camera zoomed in on the small figures, then brought them into focus.

  "Dogs?" Jen said.

  Mark leaned closer to the screen, squinting. "They look like huskies to me."

  Doc froze the picture and zoomed in. One of the dogs must've sensed the drone because it looked up in mid-stride.

  Its eyes were yellow.

  7

  A week later Jen sat back in her chair and rubbed her eyes while Doc loaded another video. "So once the zombie swarm has attacked the victim, it slowly disperses, but not all of them. Other than that, I don't think I know much more today than a week ago after we watched the first drone videos."

  "You're as right as rain," Doc said. "But here's the latest footage we have. You'll find it interesting."