Nicki Jacobs

by Zombie Hunting Bites 01

  Zombie Hunting Bites

  Death from the Outside In

  By: Nicki Jacobs

  A Killer Series

  The Huntress:

  It was an ancient skill, a skill for which she had natural ability. Hunting deer and hunting zombies were much the same. The difference was when you looked down the scope at an approaching deer your heart skipped a beat. The huntress would take in a deep breath and wonder at the majesty of the beauty of God's creatures. Zombies were a different story. The huntress took no breath and aimed to kill without mercy.

  Blake was a contractor for the Reformed CDC. The desolate wastelands which were once thriving with people and the details of their lives were no more. The CDC and the surviving officials had contracted the best of the best to kill at will and fight the DEAD PLAGUE. No scientist had devised a plan. No Doctor had voiced a cure. Bows and bullets were the preferred method and the only method that seemed to work. However it was a slow moving action plan to say the least. With more becoming infected daily, Blake had what one could call job security. Having job security didn't make the job any easier. Blake enjoyed the fact that she was helping humanity in her own deadly way. If she became infected she hoped that someone would have the guts to put her out of her misery. It was only right.

  What exactly is a Zombie?

  The Dead Plague had developed two years before. It spread like a wild fire in the forest. A decade before the outbreak everyone had their own ideas about a possible zombie outbreak. Images of flesh eating monsters and bloody faces splattered Hollywood movies. This outbreak only resembled art in certain ways. Bleeding from eyes and ears were common but strength and speed were not. These dead were only dead to themselves. They stared into space and wondered without destination. The infected were immune to emotion and appeared to be brain-dead. Many were not violent. They killed silently by passing the virus from person to person and contact with their blood. Yes they could bite, if they could catch you. This was unlikely though. The bastards are so slow you could beat them running on one leg.

  The population had been ravished. Illness spread quickly. This was their tactic. The living refused to come out of their homes and businesses shut down. Soon there were not enough workers to operate even the smallest of companies. Therefore, food became scarce and commodes ceased to exist. It was a global threat and the threat was real and won in the end.

  Who exactly is a Hunter?

  The hunter’s, which is what the teams of zombie killer contractors were called, spread in groups around the globe. The officials sent out gathers to collect ammo and arrows. They had soon realized that this was a limited and hard to find supply. What was left of the national guard, stayed in each zone to protect its’ citizens. Six months after the infection had spread zones were formed. Most were apartment buildings clumped closely together. The residents could stay inside the buildings and its grounds but never leave. The risk of infection was too great. Hunters weren't allowed in the zones. Hunter's had a high risk of infection. I had seen this first hand. My close friend Ryan was infected just last week. I shot him between the eyes before the virus took over his brain. He asked me to. Not that I would have made any other choice. We were given food, ammunition and other niceties, which were usually left in the same location of each zone. How nice of them, not that I didn't understand their point of view.

  Who exactly is Blake?

  I had always been a strong willed person, even before the outbreak. When I was little, the word “NO” always made me strive even harder. My father and mother had survived the Great Economic Collapse of 2018 and had come out smelling like roses. They were hard working, driven people. My siblings and I were raised with a work ethic of steel and no nonsense attitudes. My father used to say, "We must work hard in order to keep what we have, this will help us help others." Before meeting my mother, he went through a long period of time without food. He said there was nothing worse than seeing people starve to death. Deep down inside I was glad he died before the Dead Plague. No one needs to survive two tragic events in one life time.

  My siblings, four of them, survived the initial outbreak. Then one by one they slowly died like the rest of the world. I tried to keep them safe, but stubbornness did run in the family. Jack I miss the most. He was my younger brother. We had always gotten along well. We had the same interests and sense of humor. He could always make me laugh with his dry jokes and his to the point perspectives. I miss a lot of people. It doesn't seem there is too much I can do about it other than honor their memories. Their bodies were burned like many others. There is not even a grave to visit. I can still see their faces in my mind, which will have to be good enough for now.

  THE LAB, What not to feed it:

  Ian had been working non-stop from the time the virus started to spread. He had been working on Cancer research, his specialty, before the outbreak. All the scientists that were left were provided labs and expected to try and find a cure.

  "Funny, a cure for death." Ian thought to himself. This seemed absurd. The entire world was absurd. Ethically he knew it was his duty. Studying the virus under a microscope, it looked harmless enough. Even under glass though, it was scary. One slip up and he'd have a fried egg for a brain too.

  Last week Ian had a break through or so he thought. The virus reacted slightly to a genome, Trypanosoma. This was used two decades ago, without much success, to cure sleeping sickness. Sleeping sickness patients, Ian knew, had always resembled zombies to some degree. Victims would stop eating and slur their speech. Many could no longer control their muscle movements. Sleeping sickness was caused by a parasite, just like the Dead Plague. However, the Dead Plague parasite, even though similar, was a super resistant parasite of unknown origins. Combined with the obvious necrosis from flesh eating bacteria, the outcome was worse than your worst nightmares. The two diseases seemed to marry each other and kill their victims at will. After Trypanosoma was used, the parasite seemed to stop in its’ tracks and shrivel. Not a few seconds later, right before Ian's eyes, it came back to life bigger and stronger than ever. Now he knew what not to "feed" it.

  This week he began a new tactic. He wanted to create a virus that would kill the Dead Plague without killing the living population. If he could devise such a virus it could be released and the zombies would die off and the living could start fresh. He knew The Hunters were running out of ammo and becoming infected themselves. There had to be a better way.

  The Blood:

  Blake picked up her back pack and loaded her rifle. Zone 5 was in Ohio, where she grew up. They left restocked bins outside their buildings. The supply seemed low, but that's because it was low. Boise, whom she had teamed up with this morning no less, grabbed a bin and shook his head. "We are doomed you know. They won't let us in any zone now and the ammo is getting low." He said while racking his slide.

  She knew it was true. There was nothing to do now but stay alive and hope a break though came swiftly. Otherwise the population would be a big fat zero. The Dead Plague zombies didn't run, didn't drink and didn't eat. They died off when they were starved and dehydrated. The problem was for each that died a new infected was born.

  Walking away from the Zone 5 buildings, Blake looked back. She had an eerie feeling. A feeling she couldn't put her finger on. Turning she held her rifle that much closer. Boise shot a few zombie passersby’s before they reached the highway. The highway seemed to be a sea of walking brain-dead monsters. "This looks like a good place to start the day." Blake said releasing a shell.

  Before they reached the overpass, a band of non-zoners, which were people who missed the deadlines and were no longer allowed in a safe space zone, approached Blake and

  Boise. Some people hadn't made it in time before the doors closed and the w
atchmen loaded their guns. They were to fend for themselves, no matter what the reason. Many of them were hungry, tired and sick with other illnesses like TB. Most were desperate and hunter's having weapons and rations were a usual target. This was yet another risk hunters took on a daily basis. Blake found it hard to kill anyone that was living just because they were desperate. The world needed as much of a living population as possible. “Let's run this way." Blake told Boise, pointing her finger east. "Why, they will just come after us, and we need to stay on task." Bosie knew this might be a bad idea. "I can't bring myself to kill the living, shut-up and let's go. They probably won't have the energy to keep up with us." She said starting to run. Boise followed her even though he wasn’t too happy about it but not before letting out a large pissed off breath. As they ran, trying to save the non-zoners lives’, Blake realized they were keeping up and following close behind. "Faster!" She yelled. Looking back behind her shoulder to see if Boise was keeping up, she felt herself fall hard onto the concrete. She would feel that in the morning. Rolling over onto her back something didn't seem quite right. Lifting her hand towards the sky, she almost felt the need to vomit. Blood layered her fingers and upon further inspection, her arm. With as much gusto as she could muster, she slowly turned her head to the right. A Dead Plague victim lay next to her. His brown hair clumped with blood. It was his blood that was on her. Blake lay there for what seemed like eternity until Boise appeared, standing over her soon to be lifeless body.

  "It's on you." he said solemnly, shaking his head. "Want me to put you down?" he asked. Blake knew it was best. The amount of blood on her was enough to infect twenty people. She also had an open cut on her finger from last week, when she hooked it jumping over a fence. "Yes, I would never want to be one of them. Kill me fast and it was nice to meet you." “You too." Sorry this happened! Blake right?" He asked. "Yes, Blake." She said laying her head back down onto the concrete. "I will remember your name." Boise said, knowing he would. All of his emotion wasn't gone just yet. With as many zombies and people he had killed, one would think it would have been gone a long time ago. "Ready." Blake said trying to keep any emotion from her voice. His hands were slightly shaking. He knew he had to get this over with.

  Go Figure:

  The crack of the rifle never came. Nothing came. Blake only saw Boise next to her on the ground dead, really dead and his guns gone. Rolling her head to her left, she made out a small group running away into the distance. Boise’s guns strapped to their backs. Then things got fuzzy and she felt lightheaded, unable to focus. What was happening? Why hadn't she heard the commotion? Was she dead? Had they killed her and Boise? What...what...was...going…on?

  Her eyes rolled back and The Dead Plague claimed one more victim.

  The Huntress is no victim:

  Her eyes flew open. She needed to eat. Blake knew that much. Could she walk? Her senses were dull. Her skin was on fire. She knew she was dead, well kind of dead. She wouldn't let that stop her. Everything was hazy through her eyes. She noticed a few zombies sitting mindlessly in the road. What had she been doing? "THINK, THINK, THINK!" She willed herself. She didn't know where she was or where she was going. She started to walk but her legs were heavy. She had to tell her body what to do multiple times before her brain responded. Picking up her feet one at a time she headed west, though she didn't know it.

  The Window:

  Ian Looked out of the window contemplating re-reading his research log, thinking he had missed something? He figured he probably had. On the book shelf next to his desk he lazily grabbed a stack of documents. He sat with his back in his chair and thumbed through the notes. Graphs and drawings of the parasite and medications covered each page. Everything that had been tried so far was contained in the particular stack. Ian searched out another stack. This stack had similar diseases that had always been known to the world. He had gone over this repeatedly before trying the genome Paynosoma. Nothing new jumped off the pages. As he threw them on his desk in frustration a paper fell to the floor. Reaching to pick it up, his eyes scanned the black and white document. His mind was groomed to do so after all his technical education. It was a habit. Taking a second look, his heart skipped a beat, maybe two. Was this the answer?

  Old Habits Die Hard:

  Blake knew she had been changed, infected. She was fighting the haze that made it almost impossible to think. She tried to speak but nothing came out of her mouth. She wasn't hungry her but former self knew she must eat. "FOOD, FOOD, FOOD!" She willed herself to think. Roaming without a particular destination, Blake landed where ever her feet took her. She sat and stared into space for the entire night. Never eating, never sleeping, just sitting.

  Her skin was peeling. She clumsily tried to reach for a patch of the bloody mess that was now her arm. It took a better part of the day. Skin sticking to her fingers, she clawed her forearm, breaking the wound away and causing more bleeding. Her eyes were also bleeding, making it hard to see. "GET UP, GET UP, GET UP!", she repeated in what was left of her mind. While wandering through the evening with a foggy brain, she reached a building. It looked familiar, not that she would know why. She stood there, and stood there, and stood there.

  The Vaccination:

  Ian ran back into his lab. Labeled glass vials were lined on the tile counters. Machines were humming. Battery back-up had been implemented the night before. The smell of alcohol and bleach was fresh in the air. Putting on his protective lab suit, he ran over to the vial labeled "MAD COW" and readied himself for a long day of work. He already had a sleep deprivation headache. His assistant Pamela eyed him and then continued with her work. She had never been the talkative type.

  Spending an entire day looking through the microscope, Ian decided it was time to test his theory. This could possibility be the cure they needed. If it was it would be a wonderful start to a new life for him and the few living people left in the world. It may not help the infected but he had to work with what he had.

  He toyed with the samples. He felt like a witch doctor, adding a little of this and a little of that. Nothing was working and his frustration was showing on his face. He rubbed his temples. He sat for a long period of time, doing nothing but thinking. His brain was about to explode. He felt he was so close, yet paralyzed by a missing component.

  As the sun rose in the sky, Ian still sat at his microscope, his stomach rumbling. Grabbing a fresh tomato that was picked fresh in the morning from the roof top garden, Ian ate it like an apple. He re-checked his samples repeatedly. Nothing had happened to the Parasite on smears one through fifty. Maybe it was too early to tell. Sample fifty one was his last hope for the day. If this wasn't it, how many more days until something even workable was discovered?

  Mentally preparing himself he cast a sideways glance at smear fifty one. He said a little prayer to himself and reached for it. Under the microscope the words BINGO seemed to appear. His assistant ran into the lab, "What is the problem Ian? Have you lost your mind?" She looked him up and down. She noticed the tears springing into his eyes.

  "No Pamela, I just created a vaccine." He smiled and jumped up and down again like a little kid.

  The Lone Walker:

  Excited with his discovery, Ian set a plan into action, on paper of course. He would need to test the vaccine. Mr. Michaels, the official assigned to Zone 5 approved the volunteers. They would start first thing tomorrow morning.

  The volunteers consisted of an eighty year old women and a fifty year old man who had no apparent health problems but was the first to sign up when officials went around explaining the case. Linda, the women, said "I have lived long enough and I want my granddaughter to have a shot at any life different than this one."

  The man, Kevin, stated his case, saying "I want to help in some way, this could be the way.” They would complete the research in the containment room located in the back of the lab. This could be thoroughly sterilized by the push of a button. Critical thinking before the virus spread out of control had paid off. Ian was ha
ppy that his zone had critical thinkers from day one. So many others had not fared so nicely.

  He changed his clothing and sipped water from his blue cup. He was so tired. Rest was a mandatory at this point. He took one last glance out of his one room allotted apartment and tilted his head to the side, obviously perplexed.

  A woman in her late twenties sat on the ground in the large parking lot behind the gates of Zone 5. She was dressed like a Hunter. They were easy to spot because their zone provided much of what they wore. He noticed that this used-to-be-hunter-now-zombie was infected with gaping sores on her skin. Her muscle control was lacking. "Is she eating?" Ian wondered to himself, amazed. He knew she had the virus but could not believe what he was seeing. "An eating infected?" hmmm, this was different and completely unexpected. He continued to watch her and noticed that every now and then she actually looked coherent. Then she would slip away. They never looked coherent at any time. They never ate anything but flesh. He almost thought she was trying to speak. In between small awkward bites her lips moved almost in a talking motion. Thinking he was sleep deprived and probably seeing things he drifted off to sleep.

  THE TERORY:

  After setting up for vaccination, Ian explained the possible outcomes to the volunteers. "We know Doc!" Kevin rolled his eyes. "Just get it over with." Linda whispered. He had to admire their bravery. Would he do the same? He would make sure that these people were never forgotten, at least within his own zone.