Z-Level 10: A Zombie Apocalypse Novel

by Cole, Michael

Reimer woke up from his snooze in a fury. The dreams were like lightning strikes in his brain. Once again, he had seen every man and woman he had lost. This time, the dreams focused heavily on Lowry. Even as he sat awake on the sofa, Reimer could see the young man’s terrified face as the chopper pitched. His screams still rang in his ears. Reimer found himself going over the normal routine to silence the imaginary sounds and images. He closed his eyes, which resulted in nothing but clearer mental images. He sat silently and faced the truth: there was no shutter for the mind’s eye.

  Looking out the window, he could see it was still daytime, though it looked like dusk. He pulled his sleeve back and checked his watch, realizing he had only slept for an hour. Across the room, Dunn way laying back on the other couch. Reimer recognized the subtle twitches in his face. He was having the same nightmares. Reimer looked around the room, unsure where Gordon was. Through the window, he could see McCartney and 57 moving through the pathway toward the forward bow.

  From the stairway which led to the sleeping quarters, the brunette woman approached. Her eyes were still red from her previous weeping. Otherwise, she looked like an entirely different person from who he saw when he arrived on the boat. She stood straight with her hair hanging out through a ballcap. Her shirt was buttoned down, tucked into cargo pants. A Sig Saur was holstered on her left hip.

  “Hi,” she said. “Sorry I didn’t take time to introduce myself before. I’m Michele.”

  Reimer reached out to shake her hand. “No need to apologize.”

  “I saw all you in the boat, I thought most of our people made it back. When I saw all your faces, I realized we lost more than we thought. I guess it hit me a little hard.”

  “If it didn’t, I would think less of you,” Reimer said. He glanced at her weapon. “How much ammo do you people have?”

  “Not a lot,” she said. “We’ve salvaged. I got this from my brother, who was a gun guy. He didn’t make it. When we go on supply runs, we try to focus on moving quietly and using knives and blunt weapons. The undead are attracted to the sound of gunshots anyway.”

  “Yeah, but you’re in the heart of undead territory,” Reimer said. “Getting around unseen is near impossible.”

  “It is,” Michele said. “Believe me. Our group was even bigger before. Seems like every time we go out, someone doesn’t come back.” She stared out the window into the fog, as though wondering when it would be her turn. There was an underlying anxiety that she clearly lived with day-to-day. Reimer couldn’t blame her. He’d only been here for a day. He couldn’t imagine living here for over a year. Michele turned from the window and looked back at him, her eyes filled with hope.

  “Are you gonna get us all out of here?”

  Even though he expected the question, he was still taken off guard. He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t planned on rescuing anyone other than the VIP. He gazed back at her. The attempt at a tough look didn’t hide the pain that was in her eyes.

  “Of course,” he said. “We just need to get in contact with Headquarters.” Michele’s face seemed to brighten. A small smile cracked over her lips.

  “Oh, thank God,” she whispered. She even let out a small laugh. “If you do, you’re my fucking hero.”

  Reimer smiled back. “It’s my job.”

  Now, his mind was focused on extraction. He had found the VIP and her cure, now he had to get her the hell out of this area. At that moment, his brain exploded into action as he tried to work out a plan. The burst of energy suddenly triggered the discomfort in his bladder.

  He stood up and went to the bathroom. While relieving his bladder, he noticed conversation coming from the master bedroom. There were two voices, one male, one female. Right off the bat, he could tell the conversation was not a pleasant one. His mind flashed to the gathering in the cabin, when Ford confronted Hill about going out on her own. At that moment, he recognized the voices as theirs.

  “No, don’t give me that shit about timing. I told you to wait until I got back. You didn’t listen. You got two people killed taking you out there, and we lost FOUR more trying to get you back. All for what?”

  “I’m sorry, Ford, but you don’t understand.”

  “I think I understand just fine.”

  “No. If you think you can get me out of here yourself, you clearly don’t understand. We have no vehicle. Even if we did, the roads are blocked. The only way out of here is through airlift.”

  “If you think I’m gonna put my faith in them, you’re mistaken. You’re lucky I even let them aboard this boat.”

  “My research isn’t doing any good here on this boat, Ford. What happened to you is tragic, but believe me, it’s not gonna happen with them. I won’t let it.”

  Reimer stepped away, not caring to listen to any more. It was more evidence he would have to deal with Ford at some point. He stepped out of the bathroom, surprised to see Dunn standing there.

  “Jesus, Dunn,” Reimer said, keeping his voice down. “If I hadn’t just went, you’d have made me piss myself.” Dunn didn’t smile at his joke.

  “Are you hearing this?” He pointed at the door. Reimer glanced back, making sure nobody else was around. Michele had stepped outside and he could see Han and Jones through one of the windows.

  “Not now,” he said.

  “If not now, when?” Dunn whispered, his face mad with anticipation. They walked away from the door toward the helm. “If we manage to get a pickup over here, this guy might initiate a mutiny against us. I’m telling you, he’s paranoid.”

  “He’s paranoid,” Riemer said, failing to conceal a small laugh.

  “All I can say is that he’s not gonna let you bring someone in,” Dunn said. “He’s gonna compromise the mission. I don’t know about you, man, but I just wanna get back home.”

  “Wait…you want to go back? Weren’t you the one suggesting we desert and go north?”

  “Look, after everything I’ve seen, I have to assume that the doc is right. The environment is changing. If it happens everywhere, there won’t be anywhere to hide. I hate to say it, but I’m better off behind the Border.”

  “What would you suggest then?” Reimer said. Dunn glanced around again, double checking for anyone in listening distance, then leaned in close.

  “We can’t trust them. They’re loyal to that Ford guy. I say, let’s just take them all out now. We have superior weapons and the advantage of surprise.”

  “Dunn, I actually thought you were turning sane for a moment,” Reimer muttered. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m dead serious, Reimer.”

  “Motherfucker, I thought I knew you!”

  “Reimer, we need to think of the facts here—”

  “The fact is, you need to get a damn grip!” Reimer muttered harshly. “I have a plan, and these guys are a part of it. We’re rescuing them all. They’ve taken us in. They kept the doctor alive up till now. Have some faith, for the love of God. Hell, have some humanity. We’re marines, not murderers.”

  “Is it humanity you have? Or are you just unwilling to make the tough decisions?” Dunn said. Reimer glared at him in complete disbelief. He had served with this man for years. And for years, he watched him degrade, though the downward spiral really accelerated with the fall of mankind. But never did Reimer think he’d hear these suggestions coming from his friend’s mouth.

  “Whoa! There he is! Get ‘em!” 57 shouted from outside. Next was the sound of a loud grunt followed by a splash. Dunn and Reimer grabbed their rifles and dashed outside. They saw the water rippling from the aft deck. 57 and McCartney stood at the starboard railing, the former holding a sharp metal pipe.

  “What’s going on?”

  “A swimmer,” 57 said.

  “A swimmer?” Dunn asked.

  “Yeah. Remember how the doc mentioned their evolving? Well, some are adapting to water,” McCartney said, brushing the moisture from his beard.

  “Well shit,” Dunn said. “Why the hell are we anchored in the shallows?”r />
  “The weeds are thicker here,” 57 said. “They usually get stuck in them or avoid them in general. They’re more prone to attacking in the deeper waters.”

  “Perhaps they’re getting more of an appetite,” McCartney said. He moved across the deck to the port side. The marines followed, seeing another swimmer reaching up from the water. The stench radiated from its flesh as it fought against the weed bed. Whatever humanity was in its face had disappeared under its soggy looking skin. Its eyes were glassy and black, the skin having taken the murky green color of the water. Its skin peeled back, revealing purple veins. Its hand slapped the side of the deck, webbed fingers clawing at the helm.

  57 reached up with his pipe and thrust it through the swimmer’s eye. It twitched and spasmed before falling back into the weeds. 57 dabbed the tip of the pipe into the water to rid it of the syrupy goo that accumulated, then stepped away from the railing.

  “This is what we call “swimmer patrol,”” McCartney said. “Like we said, normally, we don’t get many over here.” Another splash echoed from near the forward deck. The two survivors moved toward the port walkway.

  “Han! Jones! What’s up?”

  “Another one,” Jones called back.

  “He speaks English okay,” Reimer said.

  “Maybe it’s just their names that’s hard to pronounce,” McCartney joked. “But those guys are good at supply runs. You can rely on them for anything.”

  “Because we’re short and quick. Not big and clumsy like you, white boy,” Hans called from the forward deck.

  “Charming,” Reimer said. “What were they studying?” 57 chuckled and glanced at him.

  “International Political Science,” he said. “They wanted to be ambassadors.”

  “Sounds like they would’ve been great at it.” Reimer moved around to the steps, seeing Gordon standing on the sundeck. He was sitting on one of the chairs, clearly distraught. Even from the deck, Reimer could see the defeat in his eyes. After hearing Ford’s story, his world view had been shattered. He always took refuge in believing they were making a difference with their missions. Now, he was questioning every operation he had ever been a part of since the outbreak. He was never so naïve to think that his government was without sin. However, he didn’t think they were so far gone. Each thought was plain on his face.

  Reimer stepped up to accompany him.

  “How are you doing, Private?” he asked. Gordon let out a sigh and crossed his arms.

  “World’s changed I guess, sir,” he said.

  “It isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last,” Reimer said. He glanced back, making sure to keep an eye on Dunn. He was standing halfway on the steps, his face maintaining the same grimacing stare. Reimer looked back to Gordon. “But you’re still the same guy.”

  “What’s that worth, sir?” Gordon said.

  “It’s worth everything,” Reimer said. “These people are counting on us to help them. And that’s what we’re gonna do.” He spoke loud enough to make sure he could be heard from everyone on the ship. The ploy worked, as he heard the sliding doors open up. Ford marched around the walkway and came around the steps to the sundeck. Reimer watched him in his peripheral vision, while keeping his main focus on the Private. “Most importantly, we’re gonna get the VIP and the data back. Even if your leaders failed you, at least you’re playing a big part in saving mankind. If we get her back and get everyone inoculated against this virus, then everything we’ve been through wasn’t for nothing.”

  “What’s the plan, then?” Dunn said.

  “We use this boat and get to the radio tower,” Reimer said. “There’s gotta be functioning equipment there. We can get a signal out to Headquarters and get evac sent over. They can pick us up right from this boat. We won’t even have to be fighting off the undead during the meantime.”

  “What about the birds?” Gordon asked.

  Dr. Hill stepped up the stairway. “We haven’t seen any birds in this area. I think they avoid the mist. They seem to keep beyond the black forest.”

  “That sounds about right. That’s where we were attacked,” Reimer said.

  “How high were you at the time?”

  “Our altitude was low. We were looking for a place to set down,” Reimer said.

  “The birds seem to keep to the trees. I would advise any aircraft to travel at as high an altitude as possible until arriving at the lake. Once they’re here, they should be okay.”

  “Too bad we didn’t know this before,” Dunn muttered.

  “I…I lost contact before I could give specific instructions,” Hill said.

  “Never mind that,” Ford said. “Corporal, say you succeed; what’s gonna happen to the rest of us once you get Stacy out of here?”

  “Ford, I’m planning on getting you all out of here,” Reimer said. Ford’s expression was blank. Reimer saw his head slowly shaking back and forth.

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  Reimer noticed Dunn glaring at him, mouthing the words “We can take ‘em.” The Corporal tensed as he started growing nervous. He shook his head slightly, hoping nobody was catching on to their silent conversation.

  “I will tell Border Command about the whole group,” Reimer said. “You all will come back with us.” The whole group of survivors were now assembling on the aft deck behind Ford.

  “Ford, listen to him,” Michele said. “He’s our only ticket out of here.”

  “I get you have trust issues man, but she’s right,” 57 said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of living like this.”

  “I for one, never thought I’d be sick of a vacation boat,” McCartney quipped.

  “That’s because you’re supposed to be fishing for FISH off this thing,” 57 said. “Not swimming corpses!” Ford turned around, his face red with anger.

  “You idiots don’t get it,” he said. “Even if the Corporal’s intentions are pure, those commanding him do not see this the same way. They will see that we don’t make it over the Border alive. We’ve all been left behind already. They don’t see us fit to be a part of their new ‘civilization’.”

  Reimer watched Dunn’s facial tics. The marine was growing increasingly unhinged hearing Ford speaking. His hand was tightening around the grip of his M4. With the survivors all assembled, it would be a clean shoot. Reimer stepped toward them, inconspicuously putting himself between Dunn and the group.

  “It doesn’t make sense,” 57 said. “I think you’re wrong, man.”

  “I’m not,” Ford said. “I’ve already seen it happen. I barely survived the first time. I’m not going through it again, nor am I gonna let you all stumble into this trap.”

  “It’s not a trap!” Reimer yelled.

  “We can do this,” Dunn muttered.

  “Shut up, man,” Reimer snapped at him. “Ford, listen! I’m the commanding officer of this mission! The evac team will have to do as I say. I will inform them that you are all part of Dr. Hill’s security team and staff.”

  “Bullshit,” Ford said. “Even if you’re telling the truth, your superiors will see right through that lie.”

  “Not quite,” Reimer said. “A lot of the CDC’s records were lost when the outbreaks went widespread. It’s possible that many of the staff profiles were lost. Dr. Hill, what do you say?”

  “It’s a strong possibility,” she said. Ford glanced at her, then at each of the survivors behind him. It was clear they wanted to put their faith in the marines. Ford’s hand moved away from his revolver.

  “Why should I trust you, Corporal?”

  A few moments of silence passed between them. Reimer felt the presence of all the people he had failed to save. He pictured Lowry’s face on the Super Stallion.

  “I give you my word,” he said. “I have your back.” He pictured the poor boy falling to his death, then shook his head to rid the image from his mind. He was going to succeed this time.

  Ford slowly ascended the steps until he stood in front of Reimer. His ha
nds were clenched into fists, the doubt in his heart overwhelming. The inner conflict was overwhelming, the doubt evident in his eyes.

  His right fist opened up as he extended his hand. A rush of relief swept through the Corporal as they shook hands.

  “I’m holding you to it, Marine,” Ford said.

  “I expect nothing less,” Reimer said. The tension subsided, allowing everyone to rest at ease. Dunn stepped back, his finger now away from the trigger. He was still apprehensive, but at the moment, he was outvoted.

  Reimer walked with Ford down the steps and around to the cabin. “We need to get cracking. The longer we wait, the worse it’ll get. By the looks of it, these swimmers are getting hungrier.”

  “If they’re coming into the shallows, they are,” Ford said. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Get everyone geared up with whatever you got,” Reimer said. “We need to take this boat across the lake and find the shore nearest to that radio tower. Any idea how far it is from the lake?”

  “Just under a mile,” Ford said. “If we move fast, it won’t take long to get there by foot.”

  “That’s assuming you don’t meet any of the infected,” Dr. Hill said.

  “That’s why we need to take almost everybody,” Ford said. “We need to get these marines safely to that station for the plan to work. None of us know the frequency.” Ford nudged the Corporal. “Congratulations. You get to be the VIP this time.”

  Reimer smiled. “Feels good to be special.” He glanced back to the doctor, who was standing in the doorway. “Dr. Hill, you’ll be waiting here on the boat. We didn’t come all this way for you to be torn apart out there. Ford, I suggest at least one person stay with her in case the swimmers show up.”

  “McCartney will stay. He’s big and strong, but he’s not a fast runner. I’d feel better he wait with Hill.”

  “Then we have a plan,” Reimer declared, knocking on a wood plank.

  “Excuse me, Doctor,” Ford said as he moved through the doorway. “Han! Jones! Clear up the propellers! We’re moving out in three!”

  The interns grabbed up some paddles and poles from the forward deck and sprinted to action. They gathered on the deck edge and stirred the water, pulling the weeds away from the rear of the boat. As they worked, 57 and Michele patrolled the walkways for swimmers.